Seeking The Truth - A Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 11)

by Shea,Lisa

  Morgan could not watch them any more, the loving couple talking about their darling son. She swept her eyes across from her, to glance at Roger. Just what was it that he knew? If he had seen Cassandra around the area, it must have been before they came to the keep, before Sean had met Morgan.

  Why would Roger not have told Sean about Cassandra?

  Cassandra’s eyes lit up. “It would be lovely for you to help Daniel, Sean,” she gushed. “That sounds simply perfect.” Her eyes became distant. “I had some shopping I wanted to do, at that delightful little store in Northchapel.”

  Roger winced, a shaft of pain moving across his face, then vanishing, his face returning to the morose quiet it had held all night. If Morgan had not been watching him, she would have sworn it was a trick of the shadows. But why?

  Morgan reached out for her mug of ale, drained it down, an itching growing in her thumbs. Something was going on here. She had to find out what it was. She knew just how to go about it, too. She let the quiet, meaningless babble of Cassandra’s plans flow over her as she focused her resolve. The minutes drifted by and she picked at her dinner, biding her time. Finally the meal wound down, and Roger put down his utensils, running a hand distractedly through his hair.

  It was time. Morgan stood and strode over to the sideboard, standing before it for a long minute. Roger knew something, and she would not rest until she lured it out of him. All it would take was equal parts alcohol and focused flirtation.

  She took in a deep breath, then picked up the pitcher of mead, looping the hand through a mug’s handle as well, then turning with an alluring smile.

  “Roger, I believe I would enjoy a walk out in the night air.” She lifted the pitcher in invitation. “Care to join me?”

  Roger looked up in surprise, then glanced over at Sean. Sean was frowning, his face shadowed. Roger began to shake his head no, his eyes held on Sean.

  Morgan walked slowly over to Roger, draping her free hand along his neck, her grin growing as a jealous jolt shot through Sean at her actions. She deliberately dropped her chest, nuzzling softly against Roger, her heart filling with sharp delight at the twist to Sean’s face.

  Good. The man deserved to suffer far, far more than this.

  “Just a walk,” she purred into Roger’s ear, her voice low. “You owe me that much, I think.”

  Roger let out a long exhale, then nodded and stood. He gave a bow to the table before turning to move alongside her out into the night air.

  Morgan took in a deep breath as they crossed the grass, drawing strength from the crisp breeze. Her eyes moved up toward the sparkling stars in the sky. The twinkling beacons seemed so far away, so high above the machinations and worries of the earth.

  She looped her arm into Roger’s, nestling against him as they walked along through the fragrant garden, back toward the gazebo. They sat side by side on the stone bench, and Morgan filled the mug to the brim. She took a long drink, then passed the mug to Roger. He took a substantial pull as well, staring out at the night sky.

  At last he spoke, his voice rich with regret. “I am truly sorry.” He kept his eyes focused on the far distance. “I wish everything had not ended up like this.”

  She put on a smile, leaning gently against him. “That is in the past,” she soothed him in a soft voice.

  There was a burst of laughter from the keep, and her stomach twisted sharply. For a moment she couldn’t breathe; iron bands constricted her chest. She focused on the man at her side, at the secrets he held. She could do this.

  She forced her voice to be light. “He is with Cassandra now, and you know what? I am happy for him. She seems a beautiful, quiet woman. Just what he was looking for.”

  The truth of her words echoed in the dark night. She slid even further into the endless dark chasm. It was swallowing her whole.

  He took another long drink of the mead, his gaze distant, not speaking.

  She took the mug from his hand, staring at it for a long moment. She craved its release, but she forced herself to take only another small taste. She needed to pace herself, to remain in control of the conversation.

  She focused her gaze on the shadowy roses and flowers which surrounded them. “Cassandra must have been a beauty when she was sixteen,” she commented encouragingly.

  “Yes, she was,” responded Roger, lost in thought. “We were all in love with her then. She seemed like something from a dream.”

  Morgan winced at the vision which seemed all too real, then handed him the mug to keep him talking. He took a long pull absently, sighing when he was done.

  “It must have been rough to hear she had married another man, had not waited,” added Morgan, retrieving the mug, taking only a small sip before returning it to Roger.

  He drank down a mouthful. “They both were besides themselves,” he agreed, “although both tried to hide it, of course. Even Giles seemed depressed by the news. That was a rough month.”

  Morgan’s heart beat quickened. So this did seem to be the triangle Roger had spoken of earlier. She reined in the desire to press him harder, to wring the details out of him. This would take time, and care. He needed to feel completely relaxed.

  She allowed the silence to drift on. Slowly, carefully, she leant more heavily against him. At first he tensed, then, as the moments ticked by, he relaxed, settled in to the situation. She nudged up against his arm, and almost automatically he moved his arm back, allowing her to move into its crook, drawing her in closer.

  A twinge of guilt delved through her over how she was drawing information out of Roger, but she hardened her heart. He had known something about Sean’s situation, had watched Sean mistreat her without saying a word of warning. It was time she knew the truth.

  She refilled the mug, handed it back to Roger, noting with satisfaction that his draws on it were becoming freer, his hand unsteady. Soon, now. Soon he would lose his inhibitions and reveal whatever secret was nestled within him.

  It was time for the next nudge down that road. Time to broach the subject of his deceased friend. She pitched her voice carefully, gently, cautious not to scare him into silence.

  “Eli was a good friend to you,” she offered tenderly, her voice rich with regret.

  “He was the best companion a man could ask for,” mused Roger in somber agreement. “Not a day goes by that I do not miss him. If only there was some way I could undo what was done.”

  “It must have been a shock, when he saw her again, after all those years” suggested Morgan softly, her voice completely neutral. She wondered if she had baited the trap well enough. She could always claim the question was about Sean, that she only meant -

  “Eli was ecstatic,” he agreed softly, nodding his head, “but he was also in a panic. Cassandra had chosen him, had come to him when her innkeeper husband had died. Eli could not tell Sean, he could not tell anyone.” He took a long drink of the mead, hunching his shoulders slightly. “Eli kept her a secret, set her up in an apartment on the outskirts of London, with Daniel. He visited them as often as he could.”

  Morgan twined her left hand into his, her heart beating with a quick rhythm. It had worked. She gave his hand a soft squeeze, distracting him with her presence, keeping his mind from what he was revealing.

  “Of course he was worried,” she agreed quietly, taking a sip of the mead, passing it to him again. “Eli did not want trouble with Sean. He did not want to turn it into a jealousy triangle. He paid for two households and kept his love hidden.”

  “He had to,” insisted Roger, turning to gaze at her with relief at her understanding. “Even when his finances became strained, he bore down and did the best he could. I was his best friend and he barely told me what was happening.”

  “It is hard to care for a woman and child,” pondered Morgan, sliding her arm around behind him, feeling him shudder gently beneath her touch. He took a long drink to cover his emotion.

  A resurgence of guilt swept over her for taking advantage of him like this, but she pressed on. Sh
e had to know what he was hiding, and after all he was drinking of his own volition. She was only easing him along.

  “It was very hard on him,” murmured Roger, his voice becoming hoarse as she leant her head against him. “She needed a constant supply of new dresses and matching jewelry.”

  Morgan took the mug gently from his hand, chuckling softly at the lightness of it. She refilled it, then took a small sip, letting the alcohol linger in her mouth for a long while before swallowing it. “He liked to gamble,” she commented quietly. “I am sure it seemed like an easy solution.” She leant up, brushing her forehead against his neck.

  Roger gave a cough to clear his throat, then took the mug back to have another drink. “Yes,” he agreed after a moment, drawing his arm more tightly around her. She turned partially sideways to nestle in against him. He looked down at her, and she could see the longing in his eyes. Another stronger wave of guilt threatened to engulf her, to pull her to a stop before things got worse. She drew in a deep breath and steadied her resolve. She was only flirting, and it would only be a few more minutes. By then she felt she would have everything he knew.

  She refocused her mind on the task at hand. Eli had needed money – he had turned to gambling to get it. “No gambling streak can last forever,” she encouraged, nudging Roger back into conversation. “His luck turned, and he needed to be bailed out by a loan shark.”

  “The bastard’s name was Edward, from Godalming,” clarified Roger, his voice turning rough with anger. “I am tracking him down.”

  “We do not want to involve the sheriff,” offered Morgan, turning to face him more fully, her voice placid, conciliatory. “They would make things public which need to stay hidden.”

  “Exactly right,” confirmed Roger, his eyes growing somber. “Sean can never know. I will take care of Edward, will bring Eli the revenge he deserves.” He shrugged slightly. “As for Cassandra, as much as I am surprised she came here, in the end I cannot really blame her. She needs a father for her boy. Of course she would turn to Sean, even if he was not her first choice. What else can she do?”

  Morgan’s heart constricted with jealousy at the vision of Cassandra looking up tenderly at Sean, the child by her side. She imagined Sean reaching out to touch the cascades of blonde hair …

  She gave herself a harsh shake. What was wrong with her? Sean had been using her, had played her and taken advantage of her. She had a perfectly fine man right by her side who obviously was interested. Why could she not drive Sean out of her head?

  Sean deserved Cassandra. The blonde harlot had been moving from man to man to support her expensive habits, and the bastard had been cheating on her at the same time.

  She realized Roger was gazing at her expectantly, and she struggled to recall what he had said last. Cassandra needed a father for her child. Right.

  “Cassandra is looking out for her child,” she stated, nodding her head. “After all, either man could be the true father, it seems. Perhaps she doesn’t know who the real father is.” She gave her shoulders a soft shrug. “She has provided each man their opportunity to be the father. Morally, she really is not doing anything wrong.”

  “Right,” echoed Roger, and Morgan realized that he had lost track completely of their conversation, that his focus was intent on her. He lowered his face toward her, the aroma of mead heavy on his breath which now whispered against her cheek. “Nothing morally wrong …”

  His lips pressed against hers, tender, gentle, sensitive. She waited for a response from her own heart – and she felt none at all. Instead, she was suddenly deluged with an almost overpowering urge for Sean’s strong body alongside her, Sean’s eyes warming her like hot coals, Sean’s lips leaving a trail of fire as they traced down her neck …

  Tears of frustration sprang to her eyes and trickled down her cheeks, but the longing only swelled more strongly within her breast. Had he ruined her forever? Had that honorless bastard destroyed her chance of happiness with any other man?

  Roger’s arms came up around her, and she fought against her despair. There had to be a way to drive Sean from her heart. Despite Roger’s gentle efforts, all she could feel was her hunger for Sean’s lips, a craving for his rippling strength, an overwhelming desire for the sound of his voice whispering into her ear …

  “Morgan?” Sean’s voice swept over her, rough with jealousy and surprise.

  Morgan pulled back from Roger with a start, flushing with shame, and she immediately gave herself a hard shake. She had no reason to be ashamed here. She was a free woman, and he – he was a married man. She tossed her hair, gazing at him with fierce determination, daring him to say a word.

  In a moment Peter came out of the darkness to stand beside him, but Sean continued to look between Roger and Morgan, his face caught between fury and tightly wrapped frustration.

  Peter cleared his throat, then spoke into the tense silence. “Roger, we need to speak with you about an issue with Eli’s estate.” He hesitated for a moment. “Of course, if you are busy …”

  Morgan let out a deep breath. She had learned all Roger knew about Eli and Cassandra, and she needed time to think. She glanced over at Roger, found he was now weaving uncertainly in his seat, moving his unfocused gaze slowly from Peter to Roger. The poor man – she wondered just how much of this evening he would remember when he awoke tomorrow morning.

  She gave him a tender pat on the cheek, which he barely registered, then she drew herself to her feet.

  She brought her eyes back to hold Sean’s gaze. “Good night, gentlemen,” she offered coolly, challenging him to say one word about her actions with Roger.

  He looked as if he wanted to speak, but instead he shook his head slowly, his eyes haunted with pain.

  Her heart hardened, and a shadow fell over her soul. Good. It served him right if he finally regretted what he had done, finally would suffer for his actions.

  She turned sharply and headed back into the keep.

  Chapter 13

  Morgan woke before dawn, a gentle hint of light radiating softly above the horizon. Restless, she pulled on a dress at random over her chemise and slipped from her room, heading down into the gardens. A light dew misted the leaves of the herbs, added sparkling diamonds to the rose petals. Her feet left trailing paths through the wet grass, and the world almost seemed freshly made around her.

  Her mind went back over the discussion of the previous evening. She now knew what had been tormenting Roger for so long, but she drew no solace from it. Roger had assumed that Cassandra had been with Eli out of love. He figured she would return home when Eli died. Roger had undoubtedly felt guilty about keeping Cassandra’s nearness a secret from Sean, knowing so well how Sean still pined for her.

  She stopped to breathe in the fragrance of a large, soft pink blossom. The wicked gleam of thorns glistened beneath the delicate petals. Morgan found she was forming another, less charitable vision of how the sequence of events had played out. Eli’s estate had once been substantial. Sean’s parents had been quite poor. At the time Cassandra knew Sean, Lady Donna was still estranged from the family and perhaps had never even been mentioned.

  Morgan suspected that Cassandra’s selection process had been deliberately mercenary. Out of the possible fathers, she had gone first for the one she knew was wealthy. Now that the well had run dry, she had promptly moved along to her next available option. It was sheer luck that she had found Sean now in possession of wealth and position.

  Morgan moved further along the garden path, the soft soil sinking beneath her feet. Perhaps she should confront Sean, revealing the truth of Cassandra’s previous dalliance with Eli. She pursed her lips - but to what end? Sharing the story would require her betraying Roger’s trust, and she was loath to do that.

  She looked out over a long row of white roses waving gently in the breeze that danced along the garden path. Besides, Sean was married to Cassandra. That was a holy bond. Whatever Cassandra had done in the meantime, either for love or for money, Morgan knew tha
t Sean would honor his commitment to her, to his vow, now that she was here.

  She ran her hand along the tops of the petals in contemplation. Yes, Cassandra had not stayed faithful to him – but, after all, he had not stayed faithful to her.

  Her mind was suddenly flooded with the memory of that night. His muscled body stretched beneath her, his strong arms drawing her down to him, his lips sending her to new heights of pleasure.

  A shaft of pain lanced through her heart, drawing her to a stuttering stop. Her hand moved to her chest in agony, her breath coming in long, deep draws. The flare of pain swelled to encompass her entire being. She was overwhelmed by the memory of how his eyes had drawn her into their depths, how his fingers had traced hunger and desire along her body, how the richness of his voice could make her lose all track of time and space.

  She had been absolutely convinced that he desired her, craved her, adored her with the same all-consuming force of nature that she been enraptured by. Instead, he had been callously using her, playing a game which perhaps he had perfected by toying with countless other women up and down the coastline.

  Minstrels wrote songs about soldiers and their conquests. She saw now, with bitter clarity, how those trite tales had come to pass. She herself now held the starring role.

  The sun came up over the horizon in a brilliant blast of light, driving away the mists, bringing the roses into beautiful view. She looked down and saw she was wearing one of her low cut dresses, the deep red one which was ideal for evenings of casual flirtation and mindless nights of drinking and dancing.

  Her heart hardened, her feelings drained away to pool in some hidden depth of her soul. Good. It was time to return to her attachment-free life. She would wait patiently while Roger finished chasing down his loan shark. She had no doubt he would achieve his goal there. That done, the soldiers would leave, head back to London, and take Cassandra with them. She had faith that Lady Donna, despite Cassandra’s desires to the contrary, would not want to share a home long term with the viperous wench. Cassandra would just have to wait until Lady Donna had passed away and her way was clear.