by Shea,Lisa
Oliver stepped forward, putting himself again between the two. “I accept that you believed yourself a free man when you came here,” he bit out brusquely, “but it appears that you now are legally bound to Cassandra. You should not -”
Morgan had had enough. “I am right here,” she snapped, and all eyes turned toward her. She was foggy from her long night of drinking, drained of all emotions. The exhaustion soaked into her as she watched the streaks of dawn paint the sky outside the stable doors.
It was too much to take in. Her mind focused on her path ahead with strict discipline. In only a few hours the hunt for Edward would begin. She needed to get some sleep.
“I am going to bed,” she announced with quiet firmness. “Tomorrow I will get up, spar, and then Roger and I are going to spend the day together – and the night as well. Do any of you have anything to say about that?”
She waited only a heartbeat before turning, striding from the room, leaving them all behind her. She moved quickly through the keep, making her way to her room and barring the door behind her.
She stripped out of her dress, climbing into bed. She lay there for a long moment – and suddenly the tears began to come, to course through her body, filling her with pain and relief and overwhelming sorrow.
Sean had loved her. He had cared for her. He had courted her truly, and would have stayed by her side, had it not been for the surprise arrival of Cassandra and the marriage contract.
She gave herself over to the cavernous blackness, to the heart-rending sobs which seemed to go on forever.
Chapter 14
Morgan’s breath had finally eased, the tears had finally stopped coursing down her face. She wished she could lose herself in dark dreams. She rolled over again in bed, burying her face in her pillow, but she knew that sleep would not come. There was too much rolling through her head, too many emotions to let her rest. She had to unwind, to burn off her tense energies.
She stood, drew on a dress, and headed downstairs into the grey dimness of the keep. She crossed the short distance to the kitchens to gather up a loaf of bread, a block of cheese, and a mug of ale. Soon she was walking through the glistening grass toward the practice field.
She sat on the stone bench for a long while, eating her bread and cheese, watching the gently changing colors of the sky as the dawn lightened and shaded her world. Her eyes began to see the blues, the greens, the colors return. It was as if her surroundings began as a charcoal painting and a deft hand carefully shaded in hues one by one.
Roger arrived out of the mists, coming to sit by her side. “You are awake? I could not sleep either,” he commiserated in a low voice. “How are you feeling?”
“All right,” she nodded, her voice even. “It was hard, at first, to come to grips with what happened. Still, I think it helps some, to know the truth.”
“The truth is always best,” agreed Roger, his eyes hooded. “Still, it cannot be easy. If there is anything I can do, please know I am here for you.”
“Thank you,” smiled Morgan, her gaze gentle. She handed over the mug of ale, and he took a long draw before returning it to her.
Morgan looked out over the quiet field, her soul soothing. Sean had loved her. He had honestly cared for her, had been courting her with true intentions. This arrival of Cassandra was as much a blow to him as it was to her.
“We still need to discuss tonight,” mentioned Roger, interrupting her thoughts. “I am not so sure this is a great idea, what you have planned. There is too much potential for disaster.”
Oliver’s voice came out of the mists. “Just what do you have planned?” he asked in a calm voice. Then Oliver was standing beside them, Christian at his side. Both men looked at her with concerned attention. Oliver shook his head. “I know you, Morgan, you leap before you look. If Roger is that worried, it makes me nervous.”
Morgan flushed. It was not her place to reveal Roger’s intentions to any other man, but she did not like the idea of pushing away Oliver; he had always been her most loyal supporter. “I do not know that I can speak of what Roger and I will be doing,” she deferred, looking away.
Sean and Peter were walking into the field, Sean’s eyes immediately taking in the sight of Morgan and Roger side by side, of the other two men staring down with tense attention.
“What is going on?” asked Sean, his shoulders tight. His eyes swept down to hold hers, pain and regret laced through them.
Morgan bit her lip. She knew she could be foolhardy, could rush into dangerous situations. She realized that this evening meet with Edward, with only Roger as backup, presented a level of danger that even she was now balking at.
She turned to Roger, putting her hand tenderly on his, holding his gaze.
“Roger, tonight – what we have planned - you have to tell Sean, have to tell the others,” she prompted softly. “It is the only way.”
Sean’s voice was a blend of agony and angst. “Tell me what?” he ground out. His eyes moved between Roger and Morgan with simmering jealousy. “If it will be more of what I saw from last night, maybe it is better I not hear of it.”
Morgan smiled wryly. He had seen her bruised lips; had made a natural assumption. She could at least spare him that much. “Sean, it was not Roger I was kissing last night,” she explained gently. “Roger did in fact come at my call for help, honorably, to assist me with a problem. It was not Roger who manhandled me.” She took in a deep breath, her eyes glancing to her friends before she continued. “It was Coll. Coll was at the Rusty Nail, and I assure you it was no pleasure for me to be on the receiving end of his attentions.”
Oliver and Christian’s hands flashed to their hilts. Christian’s face flared with heat. “That bastard is back?” he snapped. “After what you did to him before, he has the guts to show his face again?”
Christian’s eyes swiveled to Roger’s, and jealous fury flamed in his eyes. “If Coll was a nuisance, why did you call for Roger to help you? Oliver and I would have gladly put his eyes out.”
Roger stood slowly, his eyes moving to each man in turn, consideringly. Finally he nodded, coming to a decision. He spoke quietly, his voice tight. “Morgan went above and beyond the call of duty, and she did it for me. That is why she called me, and no other, to her rescue. It is why she allowed Coll to touch her. She was holding him at the tavern until I could get there.”
Oliver looked at Morgan with growing surprise. “You let that lecher abuse you, acting as human bait, so that Roger could see what Coll looked like? Why in the world would you do that? Surely that is all in the past, and best left there.”
Morgan pressed her lips together, drawing herself up to stand beside Roger. Roger looked down at her with fond tenderness, then brought his gaze back up to the other men again. “Coll is our only link to Edward,” he told the group. “If Morgan had lost Coll, I would have lost my only chance to find Edward, and to bring him to justice.”
Sean’s brow wrinkled in baffled surprise. “Just who is Edward?” He looked from man to man. “Why in the world would this Edward’s justice be worth having Morgan manhandled by a drunken cad? What is going on here?”
Roger sighed, looking down for a long moment. “Edward is the loan shark who killed Eli.”
Shocked silence blanketed the group. Peter found his voice first. “You knew who the loan shark was and did not tell us?” he ground out. “I know Eli was your best friend, but we are a troop. We would have helped you bring Edward to justice, or helped you kill him outright if that was your preference.”
Roger glanced at Sean. “I did not want to involve Sean, which meant I could not involve you either, Peter,” he responded tersely. “I wanted to take this on alone.”
Oliver’s color was high. “But you could drag Morgan into this, and risk her life for your revenge?”
Morgan shook her head, tenderly touching Oliver on the arm. “Roger did not choose my involvement,” she explained with a guilty smile. “I got Roger drunk and seduced the information out of him. He ha
d no intention of me knowing about Edward or any of the rest.” She chuckled wryly. “It was sheer luck that I ran into Coll at the tavern. When Coll mentioned Edward’s name, I made the connection. I got word to Roger immediately, to let him know that I had found the man he had been seeking all this time.”
Sean nearly choked. “Is that what you were doing, out in the rose garden?” He blew out his breath. “You were only dragging information out of Roger?” His eyes brightened with relief.
“It worked, did it not?” chuckled Morgan, a smile growing on her face.
Oliver rounded on Roger. “So just what is this plan of yours, that even Morgan – a woman who once leapt into the middle of a brawl involving three drunken cattle drovers – is nervous about?”
Roger’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Morgan is meeting with Coll again tonight, at the Rusty Nail. From there, Coll is going to take her somewhere to meet Edward, to arrange a loan.” His gaze moved from man to man, his voice slowing. “I was going to follow her and have a … talk … with Edward.”
Sean stared at Roger open-mouthed, eyes blazing. “You were going to send Morgan into a den of thieves, alone, with only yourself as her backup?” Oliver and Christian added their growls to the chorus, and Roger put his hands up in surrender.
“This has all happened very quickly,” he pointed out. “Morgan had already arranged tonight’s meet before I arrived at the tavern. I cannot contact the sheriff. It would drag Eli’s family even further into disgrace.”
Peter folded his arms with equanimity. “Well then, it is a good thing we all know now,” he commented. “It is midday already, and we do not have many hours until Coll expects Morgan to show up. Between us all, I am sure we can work out a solid plan.”
Morgan let out an ear-splitting yawn, and all eyes turned to her instantly. Sean stepped forward. “God’s teeth, Morgan, you have not had any sleep,” he stated in shock, looking at her weary eyes. “You go get some rest. We will handle everything.”
Morgan shook her head. “I want to help,” she protested. Another wide yawn interrupted her.
Sean moved toward her, but Oliver stepped before him, taking her arm. “You may be an honorable man, but you are also a married man,” he reminded Sean in a low voice. “Morgan has enough on her mind, if she is to keep Coll distracted tonight, and lead us to Edward. I will get our seductive angel safely to bed.”
Morgan really was exhausted, and let Oliver lead her back into the keep without further protest. By the time her head hit the pillow, she was fast asleep.
*
Morgan was being shaken awake gently but firmly. She tried to burrow her head more deeply under the pillow, and it was tossed on the floor without comment. She rolled on her back, then, glaring up at her attacker.
It was Oliver, and he looked down at her with a mixture of pride and worry as he put an arm out to her. She sighed, taking it, pulling herself up to her feet. She glanced out the window, judging the dim light which eased in through the curtains.
“You let me dream through dinner,” she commented wryly, shaking her head.
“You needed your sleep,” agreed Oliver, his tone low. “You apparently did not get any rest last night, and you will need all your wits about you for tonight’s mission.”
“I doubt any of you got any rest,” retorted Morgan, walking over to the closet, idly sorting through it.
“Do not worry about us,” replied Oliver, his eyes on her. He hesitated for a long moment. “You know, you do not have to do this,” he added. “We can find another way.”
She shook her head without turning, finally drawing out the most revealing of her dresses, a ruby red outfit with a plunging neckline. “I can waltz right into their center, where you would have to fight for every step,” she pointed out with equanimity. “There will be enough trouble in your hands once this starts up. Let me at least make the beginning easier for you.”
She chuckled as Oliver glanced around the room in curiosity, taking in the sword holders on the wall and the jars of perfume on the dresser. It had not been that long ago that she let no man at all into her bedroom, and since then it seemed that every one she knew had been in here.
“I do know how to dress,” she prodded him with a teasing laugh.
“I just worry,” he responded, his voice trailing off. She turned fully then, seeing the concern in his eyes, and moved forward to fold against him. His arms came up around her, warm, comforting.
“I will not get into any trouble,” she promised him, her eyes holding her vow. “I will do my part, and wait for whatever plan you have devised to unfold.” She chuckled, her eyes sparkling. “Surely you do not think any gaggle of drunken gamblers could stand up to the five of you.”
He smiled slightly at that, nodding. “I will leave you to it,” he agreed. He turned and retreated through her door, closing it quietly behind him.
Morgan prepared herself with careful attention. This was no casual flirtation she was embarking on. Her life – and the lives of her friends – might rest on her ability to distract an enemy, to draw the eyes at a crucial moment. She put on a ruby pendant, arranging it to nestle deep in her bosom. She laid out three of her most alluring perfumes, breathing in deeply from each jar before settling on one and anointing herself with it. Then she sat on the bed, brushing out her long, black hair in gentle strokes, allowing it to fall in lush curls around her face, down her back.
Taking in a deep breath, she pulled on her high leather boots, then carefully slid a dagger down into the sheath lining each one. She put her eating dagger on her hip belt, gave herself one final check over, then pushed open her door to head down the stairs.
Christian and Oliver were milling at the bottom of the stairs, coming alert instantly as she made her way down to them. Their eyes were on her, concerned, protective, and she smiled fondly at her friends. Christian ran his eyes up and down her outfit, wincing.
“God’s teeth, Morgan, you are just asking for trouble,” he commented, his voice low.
“Trouble is my middle name,” agreed Morgan with a grin, giving him a deep curtsy.
She tucked her arm into his, glancing around the room. Various household members were lounging at tables, finishing off their dinners, drinking their ale. She moved forward to sit at the empty head table. The two men took places on either side of her, and in a moment Letitia hurried over with a tankard of ale and an assortment of breads and cheeses. The maid smiled hesitantly at the trio, then retreated toward the kitchen.
Morgan realized suddenly how hungry she was, and began digging into her late meal. It was delicious, as always, and she began to feel awake at last.
“Where are Lady Donna and Daniel?” she asked through her buttered roll.
Oliver tilted his head to the right. “Lady Donna is with the lad in her study; I think they are reading poetry together,” he explained. “You will be fine to slip out unnoticed.”
There was a soft flurry of laughter from her right, and Morgan glanced over her shoulder to see Cassandra, her long, blonde hair glistening in the torchlight, leaning over to say something to Sean. Roger and Peter were sitting nearby, their eyes lowered.
Morgan took in a deep breath, letting it out again. If Cassandra really had been abandoned by Sean this entire time, a wife without her lawful husband, her child deserted by his father, then maybe the woman deserved honest pity. It must have been hard to be a single mother at that young age.
Cassandra had been forced to track down a new protector all those years ago. It could not have been easy on her, or on Daniel. What compromises did she have to make to get along with the village innkeeper?
Then Cassandra had been made a widow. Maybe she had been unsure of Sean’s welcome, had gone to Eli first out of necessity. Maybe it was too late when she heard that Sean would have welcomed her. Now, Eli was dead and she had no other choices left to her, no savings to fall back on.
Morgan could not fault Cassandra for returning to reclaim her true husband. She had a son to
raise, to feed, to care for.
Morgan straightened her shoulders. She could make some small effort at peace, if only for Daniel’s sake.
“Good evening, Cassandra,” she called out in low voice.
Cassandra looked up in surprise, then smiled widely, standing, brushing her elegant ivory dress straight before gliding over to the head table. Sean’s eyes were hooded, and he glanced at Morgan in concern before following along behind.
Cassandra moved to the opposite side of the table, taking a seat across from Morgan. “How are you feeling this morning, oh, I mean afternoon,” she asked with solicitous concern. “It seems you must have been out late again. At the tavern, sharing in some drinking games? What was it called, the Creaky Door?” Her eyes brightened with amused interest.
Morgan pressed her lips together, then took a long drink of her ale. This was not going as she had hoped. “The Rusty Nail, and yes, I do enjoy playing the games there.”
“So you are a gambler,” offered Cassandra, her pale face creasing into a knowing smile. “I thought as much.”
“We all gamble,” mused Morgan, tearing off a piece of bread and buttering it absently. “With our lives, with relationships, with the paths we choose in life. Sometimes it is just more obvious what the wager is, and what one might lose.”
Cassandra’s smile grew, and her eyes flickered down to the prominent bosom displayed by Morgan’s low cut outfit. “Yes, I imagine you are very familiar with the concept of obvious,” she opined sweetly.
Morgan felt Oliver and Christian stiffen on either side of her, and she leant back, chuckling quietly. So this was how it was going to be. “I do like to be myself,” she agreed with a growing smile, “to lay it on the line, how I feel, what I want out of life. I find it helps to avoid all sorts of unpleasant confusion, to be completely truthful. Do you not agree?”
Cassandra pressed her lips together in a tight line, her smile vanishing. “Sometimes social convention requires one to not speak her mind,” she bit out, her eyes flashing.