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

by Shea,Lisa

  “God’s Teeth, yes,” he moaned, his eyes looking down into hers. Her skin tingled with the heat of his breath, with the smoky desire in his eyes.

  She ran her tongue slowly along her lips, her grin growing deeper. “I suppose you feel that you want something as well,” she murmured, pressing herself in slightly, grazing the front of his tunic with her body.

  She saw his arms tremble, saw them almost come away from the wall, and she smiled. “I hear you have been behaving yourself, holding yourself back. Maybe you shall have what you desire on Monday,” she chuckled quietly, luring him with a long look.

  Then, still smiling, she stepped back away from him, bringing space between their bodies. She saw the exhale of relief course through him, feeling its echo through her own body as well.

  “I will see you at breakfast,” she offered sweetly, then turned and made her way down the stairs.

  Peter was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, smiling in welcome up to her. “You look beautiful, as always,” he greeted her, offering his arm. She took it with a grin, walking with him toward the head table. Except for Cassandra and Sean, everyone else was already seated and preparing for breakfast.

  Roger glanced up at her, his face forlorn as she sat down with Peter at the table. “I thought we might go riding again today,” he mentioned in quiet melancholy.

  Cassandra’s voice floated from the stair area. “Did you remember to take a number, Roger?” she chuckled merrily. “I think you will need to wait in line.”

  Morgan nuzzled against Peter. “I will be going out riding with Peter today,” she announced as Sean and Cassandra came over to join the group.

  “How about tomorrow then?” asked Roger, his voice hoarse.

  Morgan looked over at him, and almost felt sorry for him, even thought she knew he was playing a part. He looked so pitiful, so hopelessly in love with her. She found herself grinning, chuckling at his skill, and felt Lady Donna’s glare at her deepen. She sighed at the strange situation she had gotten herself into, then pressed forward with focus. She had a role to play. Roger was doing his job admirably; she could do no less. She slid a hand up to run through Peter’s thick, brown hair, leaning over to press a kiss tenderly against his cheek.

  “I am afraid Peter and I will not be back until Thursday,” she chuckled softly. “After all, what was that line from the poem? ‘Wednesday the best day of all’? It would seem to follow that Wednesday nights are even better, then.”

  Roger turned away in disappointment, and Morgan took a long drink of her ale, winking at Peter. She dug into her eggs and bacon, fortifying herself for the trip ahead. She was not sure when they would find food along the way, and wanted to get at least one solid meal into her.

  “Well then,” she announced when she was done, glancing over at Peter with a smile. “I am ready to be off, my dancing partner. How about you?”

  “After you,” he agreed with a smile.

  They went out together to the stables and saddled their horses. The steeds were almost ready when Oliver strolled in, shaking his head.

  “The results could not be more perfect,” he praised. “Cassandra is having a field day with your performance, and poor Lady Donna is beside herself. She blames herself for having encouraged your flirtatious nature all these years, for egging you on into more outrageous behavior. With Lady Donna on her side, Cassandra seems completely at ease.”

  “If we keep Cassandra distracted for four more days, it will all be worth it,” pointed out Morgan with a wink.

  Christian came in behind Oliver, carrying a pair of bags. He nodded in greeting, moving over to tie one bag onto each of the saddles. “A present from Letitia,” he commented with a smile. “She put together some bread, cheese, and fruits for you both, for your escapade.”

  Morgan glanced at the bag. “Does she know where we are going?”

  Christian shook his head. “She only knows you are two fools in love, and that fools in love must stay fed.”

  “Well, my fool,” called out Morgan to Peter with a grin. “Are you ready to go a roamin’?”

  Oliver came over, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “We are putting a lot of trust in you,” he murmured, his eyes serious. “You are to ensure Morgan gets back to us safely.”

  Peter nodded, holding Oliver’s gaze. “I have developed a great deal of respect for the lady since I met her. Rest assured, she will be returned unharmed.”

  Morgan climbed onto her horse, looking down at the men. “Oh, just a little bit of harm?” she pressed, her eyes sparkling. “You guys are no fun. I am sure a teensy bit of harm would not be too bad.”

  Peter mounted easily, wheeling his horse to come alongside Morgan’s. “After you, my dear,” he motioned with his hand.

  Morgan pulled her cloak’s hood closed, prodded her steed into a canter, flying out of the stables, and in a moment the two were moving quickly through the rains, heading out on their way.

  They pressed hard for several hours, taking only brief breaks to rest their horses. It was mid-afternoon before they pulled into a small town, tucking their horses in the stables before running through the torrents to get to the quiet of the inn. A portly man brought over a pair of ales and two bowls of stew, and Morgan dove into the fragrant meal with relish.

  “Another week or two and I should be able to start using my right hand again,” mused Morgan, giving her injured hand a gentle shake. “I have always practiced sword work with my left, but not other tasks such as brushing my hair or dressing. It will be nice to have things back to normal.”

  “I envy you, in your youth” Peter shook his head, looking her over. “You assume so easily that everything will heal, that your body will act in the best way possible. You have no doubt that your skills will be as sharp as always.”

  “You are no slouch on the practice field,” pointed out Morgan with a grin. “I hardly think age has slowed you down.”

  “Oh, but it has,” rejoined Peter. “It happens to us all. Your legs are not as quick to balance. Your arm is a little slower in the strike, a little less able to hold the guard in place. It comes on you gradually, day by day, and suddenly you look back and wonder when it all began.”

  “You look fine to me,” smiled Morgan.

  “What is funny is in my mind I still think of myself as being in my prime, in my twenties,” he commented absently, taking a pull on his ale. “It is sometimes a shock when I see myself in the mirror, to see that I have aged. I still react to situations as if I had that body, that sharpness in me.”

  “Growing old is certainly better than the alternative,” Morgan opined with a wink.

  “Yes, I am very glad to be around,” agreed Peter. “I just wish I had appreciated my youth and reflexes more when I was in my twenties, when they were at their prime. I wish I had realized what a gift they were, and taken full advantage of them, instead of assuming somehow that they would last forever. I find that youth often spend all their time wishing they could grow older more quickly, could leap into maturity. Then when they get older, they realize how much they lost, and wish to regain that past glory.”

  “So you are saying I should relish what I have now, because it is only going to get worse from here on out?” asked Morgan with a grin.

  He swept his eyes down her with a smile. “You do very much take advantage of your youth,” he agreed. “Do you realize how ephemeral it is, though? Right now you get a great deal of attention due to your looks. You are beautiful, and young. Lady Donna has spoken of what happens. As you age, that instant attention fades with it. People who are happy to leap to help a pretty, young thing are slower to respond when it is an aging woman who needs assistance. If anything they expect the older women to sit out the dance, to let the young girl take her turn. An older person has to make more effort to get the spotlight, needs to speak up more loudly to get paid attention to.”

  “So us youngsters should take full advantage of our youth while we have it?” asked Morgan with a wink, draining d
own her ale.

  “Yes, exactly,” stated Peter firmly. “Every stage of life has its advantages. Being older brings wisdom. Being young has its own benefits. Make sure you understand what your current state offers, and use it while you have it. Nothing lasts forever.”

  He drained his own mug, and in a moment they were back out in the stables, saddling up, heading back into the grey afternoon.

  *

  The rain came and went, sometimes hard and heavy, sometimes only a light misting. Peter talked little, and Morgan found she enjoyed the silence, relished being on the open road with the quiet stretches and open spaces.

  Dusk was just beginning to shadow the world when they came to the outskirts of Mytchett. Peter stopped at a quiet pub for directions, and in a short while they were pulling through the main gates of a large keep. It seemed about the same size as Lady Donna’s structure, and they found the stables with little problem, leaving their horses with the local hand within. Together they moved to the main door, giving their name to the guard. He nodded, asking them to wait.

  In a few minutes the doors opened again. An elderly woman with grey hair, wearing a finely embroidered purple gown, stood looking at Peter with misty eyes. “It is you,” she sighed, stepping forward to give him a warm hug. “Please, come in, we are just sitting down to dinner. You are welcome to join us.”

  “Morgan, meet Alexandria, Giles’ mother,” introduced Peter with a sweep of the hand. “Alexandria, Morgan here is a friend of mine.”

  The two followed the elderly woman into the keep, through the quiet main hall to the head table. A grey-haired man already sat at the center of the table, looking up at the approach.

  “Matthew, we have visitors,” called out the woman. She looked sideways at Peter. “My husband did not take our son’s death very well,” she commented in a low voice. “I ask that you be patient with him.”

  “Of course,” murmured Peter, his eyes growing sad. “It must be doubly hard on you, to have lost a son and then had this happen as well.”

  Alexandria motioned for the two to take seats, then moved around to sit beside her husband. “We do what we must, and take it one day at a time,” she responded, tenderly patting her husband’s hand.

  The servants brought in roast pork, mashed vegetables and an assortment of rolls, as well as glasses of red wine. The food was delicious, and Morgan found herself taking seconds of everything, drinking it down with the hearty beverage.

  Matthew’s voice creaked with age. “So, are you here to see my son?” he asked, scooping up a helping of the vegetables and working it carefully to his mouth. “He is a busy man, now, busy, busy. I rarely see him at all.”

  “Yes,” answered Peter carefully, not contesting the man’s confusion, glancing at Alexandria. “I have known Giles for many years, since I was quite a young man. He has always been dear to me.”

  Alexandria’s eyes were sharp on Peter. “What is it about Giles that has drawn you to visit?” She leant forward. “This is a long way for you to have traveled.”

  Peter paused a long moment, looking down at the table. “I have actually come to ask you about his wife.”

  Matthew’s face reddened with fury. “Vile woman!” he shouted. “She was no good for my boy. I told him that, when she first showed up. I told him to send her away. He refused, and look at what happened.”

  “What was her name?” asked Peter gently to Alexandria. “I thought she was named Cass …?”

  Alexandria nodded, taking a sip of her wine wearily. “Cassandra was the woman’s full name,” she explained quietly. She had a son with her, Daniel. Once Giles was gone, and we made it clear that she would have no more access to the house funds, the pair of them vanished. We woke up one morning and they were gone.”

  Her husband waved his knife in the air in triumph. “We ran them out!” he hooted. “They retreated back to that tiny fishing village they belonged in!”

  Alexandria’s eyes moved between her two guests. “Why do you want to know about Cassandra?”

  Peter glanced at Morgan for a moment, then looked to Alexandria. “I realize this may sound like an odd request, but do you have their marriage contract? I would like to look at it for a moment, if I may.”

  Alexandria pursed her lips together for a long while, then nodded quietly. “You were always a good friend to Giles, and I respected your care for him. If you need to see it for some reason, I know where it is.” She stood and walked over to a side door from the main hall, slipping within. Several long moments passed, with Matthew giggling as he attempted to butter one of his rolls with a dull knife. Finally Alexandria returned, laying a white contract out on the table.

  “Here is the document Cassandra brought with her when she first met Giles. They always had to keep it secret for some reason – something about other troop members being jealous of her. Not you, of course,” she added, nodding to Peter. “Apparently other men had fallen in love with her as well. I am afraid I do not remember their names.”

  “One of them was named Eli,” commented Morgan, reaching into her pouch. She drew out the contract, unfolded it and laid it beside the one already on the table. They matched exactly, down to the seal, the design, and the date. Only the signatures and names differed.

  Alexandria’s face paled as she leant over the two pieces of paper, looking between them. At last she looked up at Peter. “Is Cassandra now with this Eli man?”

  Peter shook his head somberly. “Eli died a month or so ago,” he reported quietly. “She drove Eli into such debt that he began gambling. A loan shark ended his life.”

  Alexandria put her hand over her mouth, shaking her head.

  Peter reached into his own tunic, drawing out Sean’s contract, laying it out besides the other two.

  Alexandria’s face mottled with anger. “Has Cassandra gotten her hooks into Sean as well?”

  Morgan’s voice was tense. “Cassandra has convinced him and his family that he should ‘re-marry’ her this coming Monday,” she explained. “He was originally the poorest of the trio, but now that he stands to inherit a large keep, she has promptly moved in, with her son in tow.”

  Matthew took a sip of his wine. “I always liked Daniel,” he mused “Good lad, he would putter with me in my herb garden for hours.”

  Alexandria twined her fingers into her husband’s, her face haggard. “My husband here was a master herbalist at one time,” she commented quietly, “before the … incident. Daniel was an apt student, attentive, really had a talent for it. I do not lay any blame at the boy’s feet. He is being used by his mother, I feel.”

  Morgan nodded. “I get the same sense as well,” she agreed. “He healed up my injuries more quickly than I would have dreamt possible.”

  “I did of course notice that your hand was bandaged. Is it serious?” asked Alexandria solicitously.

  “I had a little encounter with a loan shark,” admitted Morgan with a smile. “He looks far worse, rest assured.”

  Alexandria’s eyes lit up with interest. “Good for you!” she praised Morgan with a grin. Her eyes returned again to the three documents before her. “I assume you want to borrow our copy of the marriage contract, to keep this wedding from happening?”

  Morgan’s grin deepened. “Actually,” she admitted, her eyes sparkling, “I was rather hoping to the use the documents at the wedding itself. A display of sorts.”

  Alexandria picked up her wine glass, then reached over to clink it against Morgan’s. “Is there any chance we might be invited to this?” she asked, intrigued.

  Peter smiled. “Yes, certainly,” he agreed. “We would not have you miss it for the world.”

  “Well, then,” offered Alexandria, raising her wine glass again. “Let us have a toast – to weddings.”

  Four glasses chimed against each other, and Morgan drank down the flavorful liquid with a warm smile.

  When dinner was finished, Alexandria helped her husband to bed, then returned to join her guests with mugs of mead by the quiet
fire.

  “You know,” she commented, looking into the flames, “there was a time I actually thought Cassandra could be good for my boy. She was beautiful, in an ethereal sort of a way, with her pale hair and delicate skin. I thought she could tame him, refine his spirit a bit. She had already shown she created good children.” She sighed, turning her glass in her hands. “My husband adored Daniel,” she added. “I think he took Daniel’s departure almost as hard as he did Giles’s death.”

  Morgan sipped her mead. “Giles seems to be the first of the trio that she went to,” she mused. “Before that, had her husband the innkeeper just died?”

  Alexandria nodded. “Yes, it was not even a matter of a few weeks between his death and her arrival,” she confirmed.

  “Odd that the innkeeper died only a few years after they married; Cassandra does not seem the type to go for older men,” considered Morgan.

  Alexandria shook her head. “Oh, no, he was about Giles’s age, apparently,” she explained. “The death was sudden. Some sort of an accident.”

  Morgan glanced up. “Oh? Did you hear more about it?”

  Alexandria sat back, considering. At last she spoke. “I believe he fell down a long flight of stairs,” she mused. “The inn was doing all right, paying its bills, but not bringing in extra money for frivolities. At least that was the impression I got in watching her for the first few months.” Her mouth twisted wryly. “Cassandra got used to the spending habit very quickly, though.”

  Morgan looked over at Peter. “Are you thinking what I am thinking?”

  Peter nodded. “If Cassandra was capable of destroying the lives of Eli and Giles, she certainly would be more than capable of taking out a poor innkeeper once she realized he could not support her in the way she wished.”

  Alexandria looked between the two. “I thought you said the wedding was on Monday, though.”

  Morgan nodded her head. “Ferring is quite a distance from here,” she agreed quietly.

  Peter looked at her in concern. “We have enough evidence as it is,” he pointed out. “Three husbands, two of them dead? Three marriage contracts, all drawn on the same date?”