by Ranay James
Chapter 49
“Women,” Nic mumbled as he went down the stairs in search of Aaron, his master guardsman. Cullen was with Aaron, and Nic drew his brother to the side and out of ear shot of the others.
“Trouble in paradise, Brother,” Cullen asked, sensing Nic was not happy, and his guess was a tall, beautiful, dark-haired woman was involved because the servants were gossiping about how Nic had spent the night with Morgan.
“Cullen, don’t screw with me this morning. I still might drowned you for it." He ran his fingers through his hair, a sure sign to Cullen that his brother was frustrated. "Listen, there has been a change in the plans. I need you to gather our most trusted and loyal men. Form an escort for Lady Morgan. I am placing her life in your hands. I don't trust anyone else except you for this task. Do you understand?”
“Actually, no, I don’t.” Cullen was trying to go through the reasons why Nic had made this request. There was not a single one that made sense.
“She has refused to allow me to take her to London.” Nic lowered his voice. He did not want the men to know his woman had refused his protection. He would never live the insult down.
Cullen began to protest. “How can she refuse? You’re the best person for the job and--”
“I know! I know!" Nic interrupted. "Nevertheless, it must be done as she wants it. I'm afraid she will make the slip if she feels she is not in complete control of these particular circumstances.”
“Why won’t she allow you to escort her, Nic,” Cullen asked.
“She does not trust me.” Nic’s simple reply was unexpected.
“Why on earth would she not trust you? Did you tell her, and that's the reason?” Cullen was searching to understand why Morgan was so mistrustful of the one man Cullen knew to be the most trustworthy.
Nic was beginning to be uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was heading. “Ah, no, it never came up.”
“What do you mean, ‘it never came up’? I thought you went upstairs with the purpose of telling her.”
Nic was beginning to feel ashamed. He had let the passion between them detour him from his original purpose.
“I had not planned on staying the night, Cullen. I was going to tell her and leave or at least let her make the choice. I just ended up with more pleasant things to occupy our time, and this morning she came at me first thing with talons flared.”
“You are a bad liar, Nic. So fool yourself if you want, but don’t try to bullshit me," Cullen said as he pointed at his older brother's chest. "You had every intention of making love to Morgan when you shut and bolted the door to her chamber last night." He did not even wait for Nic to try and deny what they both knew was the truth. "You married her and she has a right to know. You have failed her and you know it."
"On several levels," Nic admitted.
"You know the Code of the Knight. ‘To do an action is to own that action.’ It is your action to own, Nic."
"But--"
"I have never said this to you before, but you are dead wrong on this one, my brother. You're wrong to keep her in the dark as long as you have. She deserves better than this and you know it.”
Nic knew Cullen was angry and this made him feel worse. “Just get her safely to London. If I am still at court when she arrives, I will tell her then.”
“Well be warned, Brother, and if you're gone when we arrive, I will tell her. We cannot leave her in the dark and certainly not at Henry’s Court. She would feel like the laughingstock of the realm if she finds out by other means. She has pride, Nic. It would crush her, and if you think she doesn’t trust you now….”
Nic bristled. “Well…haven’t you just become the expert on my wife’s feelings?”
“Now you’re being a prick. You’re her husband for Christ’s sake. It should come from you, but if not from your lips then at least it needs to come from family.” Cullen retorted, feeling beyond irritated with his older sibling. The man had certainly gone soft in the head on this one.
“Very well, you tell her if I have already left to join my troops.”
“Nic, are you sure you really want to do this?” Cullen gave him an inquisitive look and a final chance to back out of leaving Morgan in his care.
“Am I sure? No, I’m not sure about anything when it comes to my woman except that she means a great deal to me. Keep her safe at all costs, Cullen. You will have to watch her like a hawk, too. She can be slippery, and there is still danger lurking out there for her. I have no idea how Brentwood will act once he knows she has slipped from his grasp.” Nic placed his pack on the back of Trojan.
“I will defend her with my life, Nic,” Cullen vowed. “She is worth it.”
Nic was looking at his younger brother. Was he wise or just a bit in love with Morgan? Who would blame him if he were?
“No one, and I mean no one, is to touch her, understand me? And should she ever doubt I care for her just tell her I love her more than my horse. She will understand.”
With those parting instructions, Nic mounted Trojan and heading east to London, to his duty, to his King.
Morgan stayed in her room during all the preparation for departure. She would have just been in the way had she tried to help. Standing at the window she watched the love of her life ride away from her.
It was best this way, she kept telling herself. This will make it easier, she thought. It had to make things easier because she was dying inside. He had gone and she had driven him away.
Yes, it was best this way, she repeated, as she shed tears for herself, for him, and for the life they would never share.
Stewart watched as the party made ready to go. He watched Nic ride out ahead with too many men for him to waylay him. He turned his attention to the Lady. He knew after last night things had changed.
Undoubtedly, so did the rest of the castle. Her husband had staked his claim, and the Lady had not objected. Brentwood’s chances of securing Seabridge were growing slimmer by the day, and there might well be an heir already on the way. However there always was a way around most any problem. The key was to know just how far a man was willing to go to solve that problem.
He chuckled. He was the kind of man who usually had no boundaries, and this time was no exception. He smiled bitterly as he watched the Duchess of Seabridge mount up to ride. If he had his way, she would soon be back in the tower room just where the little bitch belonged.
Chapter 50
London
The Royal Court
Nic was true to his word. Riding ahead he gave notice to Henry and the Queen of Morgan's pending arrival. The apartments Morgan found herself in were opulent beyond her wildest expectations. She had never expected the King to place her in such lavish surroundings as she currently found herself in. It never dawned on her that the rooms and accommodations were simply customary and befitting a duchess.
The outer chamber was large and spacious. The stone fireplace, set into the corner, blazed with a welcoming fire even thought the days were getting warmer. The dining table was graced with silver candlesticks holding expensive scented bees wax candles, and a writing desk, complete with ink and parchment. There were also several chairs with cushioned pillows embroidered with thread worth a fortune. The hunt scenes were mini-masterpieces with stitching so fine Morgan had to look closely to even see them. The fur rug in front of the hearth was sable, soft and luxurious to the touch. The lovely purple cloth covering the window slits was heavy velvet, trimmed with gold brocade. The tassels had fine beading of pearls, gold, and silver. A serving set consisting of a jewel-encrusted wine decanter and two matching goblets sat on the table between the two chairs in front of the fireplace. The small parchment announced the serving set was a gift from the King.
Her bedroom was not as large, but instead had a feeling of intimacy. The floor covered with soft rugs throughout the room padded her feet no matter where she walked. The fireplace had a set of chairs strategically placed, and they begged for intimate and romantic conversation.
However it was the bed that dominated the room. Set at an angle in the far corner, the linen canopy draping it was the most beautiful material Morgan had ever seen. The sheerest white fabric gave the illusion the bed was floating. It captured the firelight, reflecting the light-back. The bedcover and pillows matched, and Morgan found she keep wanting to burrow into the lush linens, letting the feel of them take her mind away from Nic and how much she missed him. It was a bed made for love. She would not have recognized it for what it was a fortnight ago, however, after spending that one amazing night with Nic, her eyes were opening to a new and amazing world. Her nights in this beautiful room filled her with deep and desperate longings. The bed felt like it was crying out for two.
She had barely left the chamber since arriving, and she had not seen Nic in ten days. She knew he was here and missed him dreadfully. After being away from him, she hated thinking how desolate a life was going to be without him.
The last ten days were torture when she let her mind drift to how they had parted at Featherstone. Angry words had severed them, and her need to apologize to him was eating at her. He was her friend, and she wanted to ask for forgiveness for her behavior. She had thought that by pushing him away it would make her inevitable loss easier. But doubts had crept in, knowing at this point nothing would ease the heartache sure to come with his pending nuptials.
Cullen made it clear on the trip from Featherstone to London that she had hurt Nic. She had not trusted him to keep his word and his word was his honor. Cullen said that Nic took responsibility seriously. Morgan was his responsibility. Yet, she had thrown his offer of protection back into his face.
Seeing her behavior in retrospect, she realized she'd acted horribly, but her actions and words had come from fear and pain. But that did not make it acceptable. She would ask him to forgive her if she had opportunity to see him. She had already written him a letter and asked Cullen to deliver it to him. He assured her the task was completed.
As the days moved forward, Cullen kept her informed, and she knew Nic was here, but still in closed-door sessions in the War Room with the King and his advisers. No one came in and no one left without the King's permission according to Cullen.
Morgan thought about what she had learned about Cullen, a young knight as honorable as Nic.
Len, as he was known by a few close friends, was wonderful company and the perfect escort for her trip to London. She was finding she liked him very much. His sense of humor was wonderful, his company companionable. He would make a wonderful husband someday when the right woman came along. He was definitely handsome and would become more so as he matured. He was attentive, and even-natured, with a mind just as intelligent as Nic’s.
On the journey to London, they talked at great length. Moran discovered there were three boys. Brandon was the oldest, Nic the middle, and Cullen the youngest.
Cullen stated that as the youngest of the three, he did not have to deal with the rigors of life because he grew up with two older, more formidable brothers. Therefore, he had not had to shoulder the weight of much responsibility.
Morgan doubted he was irresponsible and said so. She told him that false modesty was unbecoming in McKinnon men, and that there was no use in trying to hide their competencies. She said Nic must have figured it out because she had never seen even a hint of modesty, false or otherwise, in him.
Cullen had laughed. There was no sense in denying or admitting the truth about Nic or himself. The truth was that Nic had no time for modesty, and Cullen was capable of handling great amounts of responsibility.
Currently Cullen was handling the greatest responsibility ever handed to him. Nic trusted him to lead the team responsible for the safety of the Duchess.
He did not have to deny or admit it to her because Morgan saw that the men followed him without question and that did not happen simply because he was Nic’s brother. Cullen was competent, intelligent, and possessed a code of honor and principles by which he lived. The men respected him, and it was not fear driving these men to follow as it was with her Uncle Lester’s men.
But what was driving these men? Earned respect for starters drove these men. He was a Knight of the High Order earning his spurs three years earlier after foiling an assassination attempt on Queen Elizabeth’s life. Since then, Morgan was sure his deeds of valor were great if unsung.
Cullen shared how Nic joined the service at an early age to have hope of becoming successful. He had climbed the ranks quickly. Morgan had no doubt about that truth. But she was surprised to find out that he was Knighted at seventeen for his bravery on battlefield where Henry won his crown. Nic’s prowess was legendary according to Cullen. Morgan did not doubt that, either.
Cullen on the other hand had inherited land from his mother, Heather Williams, who was the second wife of his and Nic’s father, Patrick McKinnon. Cullen was wealthy and landed in his own right, making his service to the King voluntary.
Brandon, the oldest brother was fifteen years Nic's senior. There were two other brothers and a sister, in between, who had never made it much past early childhood. While Brandon was still alive, he managed the land for him. He was just five when his mother passed away, and far too young to manage the estate on his own. The land he had inherited butted up to the McKinnon ancestral home, so it was convenient for Brandon to merge with Heather Park and run as one large estate.
Cullen had just never seen any reason to change things, so he joined with Nic several years ago. He was Nic’s man. Nic was the King’s and Cullen liked the arrangement.
Thinking of Nic, she walked over to the dresser and pulled out the lovely nightgown she found on her arrival. She rubbed it to her cheek, its softness a thing of wonder to her. It had been in a box on the bed with an envelope with her name in handwriting she recognized as his. Few knights were literate, and the fact Nic could read and write was not surprising. He understood the importance of the written word.
She ached to see him, however, if his betrothed was here he would be playing court to her. Morgan felt seeing him would probably never happen. At least that meeting would not happen in private.
And Cullen had told her Nic would be on his way to Ireland soon, gone for months. Could he already be gone? Surely, he would not leave without saying good-bye. Had her words driven a wedge so deeply he would not say good-bye even for the sake of their friendship?
Still holding the gown in her hands, she wanted to see how the fabric would feel next to her skin. She undressed without help and slipped the nightdress over her head. The garment skimmed her body in a slow caress of silk, reminding her of Nic’s fingertips.
“Do you approve, Duchess?”
Nic had never seen anything more beautiful than Morgan at that moment. He thought he had died and gone to heaven as he had walked into the room just in time to see the silk shimmer past her shoulders, slender back, and bottom as it molded her as a second skin. His timing had been perfect for he knew she could not have known he was coming.
Morgan whirled to face the man of her dreams. “You came to me,” she whispered, her words filled with soft longing.
She was glowing as he crossed the room as quickly as his weary legs would take him.
She met him halfway and he crushed her to him. “God, Morgan, I have missed you.”
She placed her forehead on his chest and began to pour out her heart. “Oh, Nic, I’ve missed you, too. I’m so sorry and ashamed of the way I behaved and for what I said. I was scared and I should have trusted you. Can you ever--"
Nic shut off her apology with a kiss so deep, so full of longing, she was lost in it and never wanted to be found. How was she ever to live without him?
“I was afraid you were already gone,” she confessed.
“I swear, Baby, I would have come to you before now, but I have just been given leave by the King.”
“I greet you with arms that have been empty and a heart that has felt lost.” Morgan felt the words deeply, Nic sensed the truth in them, and they touched
him to his core. She cared for him. Could she love him?
“Oh, Nic, I have missed your touch and kisses, but I have longed more to see you, to talk with you, to fellowship with you as my friend.”
“I am here now.”
“How long,” she asked. However long it would not be enough.
“We have tonight. Let’s make the most of it.” Nic held her close, breathing her in. “I have to leave before dawn, even thought it is not my wish to do so.”
“What of your betrothed,” she asked innocently as he leaned in for a kiss.
Nic hesitated, his mouth hovering just above hers. The moment had come. Nic knew he could not avoid the issue any further. He hesitated, torn between telling her now or telling her after he had made love to her.
He chose to kiss her. “We'll talk of it later.”
Nic then pointed to the bed, never taking his eyes off the vision in front of him. “Call me shallow, but right now, I only have a single thought on my mind. And that is to make love to you in that bed until I have to be carried off tomorrow on a litter.”
Morgan giggled as she took his large hand in both of hers and in a mute invitation walked backwards leading him to the bed that cried out for two.
Chapter 51
As they lay twined together, the serenity wrapped them in a blanket of comfort. They had come together the first time quick and dirty, both just feeling the need to satisfy the desire brought on by the absence of the last weeks and the emotions pent up from wanting each other.
The second time Nic savored her like a fine dessert. He had made love to her tenderly and thoroughly with his body and with his words. They undeniably felt the bond between then strengthening. Lying there in the room made for lovers, they were in their own world where none could touch them and she would not think of tomorrow. Tonight was not enough, but it was more than she had ever hoped to have with him.