by Shea,Lisa
It was empty. Only her dress lay there in a tumbled heap. She leant forward, shook off the hay, then pulled it over her head. She gave it a brief brush down, then turned, moving to her horse.
Cassandra’s eyes glowed. “Maybe your parents will take you back,” she commented primly. “From what I hear, you fit in nicely with them.”
Morgan bit down a response. Instead, she let her eyes seem downcast, her shoulders slumped as if in defeat. She climbed wearily onto her steed. She gave a final nod to Lady Donna, and Lady Donna turned her head, dismissing her soundlessly. Morgan pulled on the reins, and she was heading out through the main gates, down the long, rain-soaked road, the keep fading into distance behind her.
Morgan gave a long sigh when the keep finally vanished from sight. It was done. She resisted the urge to rein in and rest, if only for a few minutes. It had all happened so quickly, she still thundered with adrenaline, reeled from the shock of the events. There had been so much potential for disaster in those minutes. She had not planned for her departure to be quite that dramatic, but based on the looks in Lady Donna’s and Cassandra’s eyes, the result was perfect. Both would think her completely out of the way now, with no chance of ever returning. Cassandra would not have any thought at all of her for the next few days. Whatever she did, she would be safe.
Her heart began to slow, to return to normal, and she kicked her steed into a canter. At least the rain had stopped. Now all she had to do was return home. Peter would find the first opportunity to talk with Christian and send him to her. Once he arrived, they would head out to Ferring. Events were back on track. There was hope, after all, for all pieces to be in place by the date of the wedding.
Her shoulders eased into relaxation. She breathed in deeply as she rode, enjoying the freshness of the late afternoon, the crisp sharpness of the air, the bright green of the meadows. She stretched out over her steed, cresting each small hill as if she were floating along on a stream of air.
She came over the next rise, her eyes narrowing to focus. There, far ahead on the road, a man on horseback was coming toward her at a trot. She peered to make out who it could be – and then suddenly the horse flinched sideways, as if struck. The man tumbled forward off the saddle, tumbled, then lay still, face down in the mud.
She kicked her steed into a gallop, riding up quickly to reach him. She was off her mount before it fully came in to a stop, running to reach the injured man.
“Did you get thrown?” she asked in a rush, wondering if he was conscious, reaching to turn him over.
A pair of strong arms whipped around at her, and she was thrown on her back, the man’s weight landing atop her, a razor-sharp dagger pressing against her neck. Her breath burst out from her with the force of the landing, and it was several seconds before she could breathe in again, could try to focus on the face now a few inches above hers.
Coll’s eyes were sharp on hers. “Fancy meeting you here,” he hissed. “I was just on my way to receive my update on you, and here you are, completely alone and unguarded. What happened to those men you were with on the previous days? Did you get bored with them already?”
His eyes chilled. “I hear you have been making trouble for Cassandra. Why would you want to go and do a thing like that?”
Morgan recognized the voice in a flash, but her eyes took a bit longer to reconcile the man above her with the Coll she had known. His hair was bright red now, and his face sported a number of freckle-like dots. He had changed in outward appearance, but his eyes were the same – cold, calculating.
Morgan’s first instinct was to launch into a ferocious defense, flailing, kicking, anything to get that knife away from her throat. She bit down the urge with a forceful effort. Roger would tell her to plan out a course of action, one with the best chances of success. Peter would advise her to use every advantage at her disposal, no matter how seemingly inconsequential. Sean would want -
She took in a deep breath, gazing up at Coll with a growing level of calm acceptance. Sean would want her to stay alive, whatever it took. As long as she was alive there was hope.
She allowed herself to smile slowly, to lay with docile patience beneath his weight. “Coll, why would I make trouble for Cassandra?” she murmured, pitching her voice low, pressing herself ever so slightly up against him, as if against her will. “What could Cassandra possibly have that I want? Surely you do not mean Sean?”
Coll shifted slightly on top of her, and she pouted. “Do you mean Cassandra has taken so much of your own affections that there are none remaining for me?” She arched her back slightly, careful not to add any pressure to the already strong line of the blade at her neck. “Are you sure there are no feelings for me in your heart?”
He growled, and his free hand moved down to rest besides her head, almost touching her cheek. “You used me to worm your way into the gambling den,” he reminded her. “You and Oliver conspired to destroy me.”
She frowned. “Did Cassandra tell you that?” she prodded, running her gaze sensually along his lips. “Of course she would,” she continued, without waiting for a response. “However, you were there, not her. Do you remember the evening? I went of my own volition, to be with you. I rode on your horse!” She let her eyes drop with pain. “Then that fiend, Edward, forced me away from you. He dragged me into his room -”
Coll’s voice burst from him. “I saw what he did to you,” he muttered hoarsely. “He had no right. You were mine!”
“Yes, I was yours,” encouraged Morgan, gazing up into his eyes. “I wanted you to rescue me,” she insisted, gently pressing herself into him. “It was you I wanted to be with that night.”
“If I could have stopped him, I would have in an instant,” bit out Coll, his voice choked. “You must believe me. You do not know the kind of power Edward wielded over me, over us all. It nearly killed me when he took you from me.”
“Now we are back together,” soothed Morgan. “That separation is in the past. Edward can never come between us again.”
“No, he cannot,” vowed Coll, his eyes smoking with passion. “You are mine now.”
“I am yours now,” murmured Morgan, gently lifting her head toward him, sighing with pleasure as he slid the blade from her neck, moving his hand to the side, allowing her free movement.
She lifted her lips almost until they touched his, hesitating there, a whisper’s breath apart. She let out a sigh, turning her head. “Still, what of Cassandra?” she moaned, her voice heavy with sadness. “You seem to say she has a claim on you.”
Coll shook his head, his fingers turning her face back to his own, his eyes hot with desire. “Cassandra is a calculating bitch,” he snarled, his gaze captivated by her. “I have been with her all this time for the material gain, but never out of desire. I have never wanted her the way I want you.”
“You want me?” whispered Morgan, her voice pitched with tentative hope.
“God, do I want you,” groaned Coll, bringing his head down to kiss along her neck, her throat.
Morgan ran her hands through his red hair for a moment, pressing him down, then gave a gentle roll to her body. Coll moved eagerly with her, drawing her on top of him, wrapping his arms around her back to press her down into him.
Morgan’s voice was low, soothing. “I have dreamt of this day for quite a while,” she promised, layering her own kisses down his face, his neck, all the while sliding her left hand down to her hip.
In a heartbeat she had drawn her dagger, pressed its razor sharp edge firmly against his throat.
He froze instantly, his eyes holding hers in panicked confusion.
“You listen to me,” she bit out, her voice low and steady, choosing her words carefully. Coll could be immensely useful at the wedding, if only she played this just right. “Cassandra has already gotten me kicked out of the one home I knew and loved. Lady Donna will not welcome me back again because of Cassandra’s words. Lady Donna’s influence will mean I am unwelcome anywhere within twenty miles. I am going to have
to head far north, to start over again fresh. Your girlfriend has ruined my life!”
She held his gaze firmly. She knew Coll would report back to Cassandra, and she had to ensure the message was clear, all doubt erased. “I can never return here, never have anything to do with any of these people. You let this happen. You let Edward rape me, you let my life become ruined!”
Coll twisted his mouth to protest, bit off his words as her dagger pressed even tighter against his flesh.
Her eyes narrowed. She had to keep him from following her, from harassing her further in the coming days. Her mind raced over the options. He cared little for her reputation – but his own was quite a different matter. She let her voice gentle slightly.
“I will not say anything to anyone of what happened here. Your reputation was already damaged enough by our encounter when I was a teenager.” She let her face grow more serious. “However, if your feelings tend toward revenge, I will leave a note for my parents, to be opened only on my death. It will list out, with details, everything you are guilty of.”
“Morgan, no!” ground out Coll, his eyes pleading with hers. “I would never hurt you!”
“You would leave me in Edward’s hands to be brutalized,” snarled Morgan, letting her true anger flare for a moment. She took in a deep breath, reining in her control. “Keep this in mind. If you take it in mind to come after me for any reason, I will ensure every man, woman, and child knows exactly what happened that night – and what happened here on this road.”
Coll’s eyes held on hers a long moment, and he licked his lips nervously.
She let her mouth ease into a jealous pout. “In addition, I doubt Cassandra would be pleased to know of your real feelings about her. It would put a damper on whatever relationship you two share.”
Coll’s face drained of all color, his eyes going wide with panic. “She would never believe you,” he finally hissed, his face tight with tension.
Morgan snarled in a low growl, drawing her dagger delicately across the fragile skin. A thin line of red followed her movement, and Coll drew in a quick breath, holding himself perfectly still.
“I think she would,” Morgan responded at last, a knowing smile spreading on her face. “I think with her cunning that she would know instantly what the truth was, despite any attempt of yours to lie. She would see right through you.”
She held his gaze for a long moment. “So, what will it be? Will you accept the terms? Will you leave me be, to begin my new life? Otherwise …” She gave a meaningful twitch to the dagger.
“I accept,” agreed Coll instantly, his face relaxing into relief. “If you are leaving for distant parts, and will hold your silence, that is fine by me, by us. I will leave you unmolested.”
Morgan looked at him in consideration, then nodded. She did not believe him fully, but she did sense he would put any desire for chasing her down into the future, after the wedding was finalized. He had been convinced of her need to get away, to leave the region immediately. That was all that mattered.
She whistled to her horse, waiting for the steed to come alongside her. Then with one movement she leapt up from the ground, scampering into the saddle, spurring into a hard gallop along the road. She kept the dagger out at the ready, leaning low over her horse’s neck, her heart pounding. It was only after a mile that she began to relax, that she allowed herself to turn and look behind her.
The way was clear. He was not pursuing her.
She let out a long sigh in relief, resheathing her dagger, pressing on toward her house. She knew, of course, that Coll would not uphold his promise. He would pursue her as soon as the wedding was over. For now, though, he would want to return to Cassandra immediately, to report the latest news of her activities.
Her mind flicked to the coming days as she rode. She imagined Coll would stay close to the keep until Monday, to ensure the wedding went off without a hitch. She would not be bothered at all during her hard ride to Ferring. After the wedding was over with, she would be more than ready to deal with anything Coll chose to throw at her.
She continued on at a canter, not taking any chances until she reached the town proper. She slowed down then, moving her way to her parent’s house. She dismounted at their door, walking her horse into the back, giving the steed a thorough wipe-down before stabling him and heading in the back door. Her parents looked up in surprise as she entered.
Her mother came over to offer her a warm hug. “Morgan, my dear,” she greeted. “We were not expecting you!”
“I will only be here a few hours,” cautioned Morgan, moving to sit at the table. “Just so you are forewarned, I have been kicked out of Lady Donna’s keep.”
Asa and Jocelyn looked at each other with amusement rather than surprise. “It took her that long?” asked Asa with a gruff nod. “Considering what you have been up to, we have been expecting you for some time now.”
Morgan smiled, reaching forward to grab the pitcher of mead from the center of the table, accepting the mug from her mother and pouring out a serving. “Well, I try my best,” she teased. “Not to worry, everything will be resolved soon.”
Morgan’s mother shook her head. “You do have a sense of theatrics in you, from what we have been hearing around town.”
“All for a good cause,” toasted Morgan, taking down her drink in one long pull.
Her mother brought over a wooden platter of bread and cheese. “So what now?” she asked, settling down beside her daughter.
“Now, we wait,” responded Morgan with a smile, reaching out for helpings of the food. “Christian will be by in a little while, and he and I will head out for a few days, to gather up some last pieces of the puzzle. Then everything will be in place.”
Her father shook his head. “Are you sure we cannot help? You know I am responsible …”
Morgan smiled, touched by his concern. For once she heard the fear behind his words, rather than reacting knee-jerk to the phrase he chose to use. She reached up to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “We will be all right,” she promised. “Soon we will have this whole situation resolved. Everything will be back to normal.”
He sat down beside her, refilling her mug, then filling his own. Her mother grabbed a pair of apples from the shelf behind her, deftly cutting them into slices, passing them around to the other two. Morgan relaxed and renewed as they ate together, drawing on each other’s strength. Another apple was sliced and was handed around with easy familiarity.
Her father gazed morosely at the table. “I just wish it was not Christian who was going with you,” he muttered finally. “He is a well-meaning enough lad, but rather impetuous.”
A voice came low from the doorway. “It will not be Christian who guards over your daughter,” agreed Sean quietly.
Morgan looked up, her eyes caught by his, startled beyond all measure to find him in her home. He was wearing a well-fitting leather tunic, his sword hanging at his side, and he seemed all she could want in a man, everything she desired. Her throat went dry, and she could not form a response.
Her parents looked between the two with growing understanding, got up from the table, mumbled something about going to the Rusty Nail, and she heard the front door open and shut. She remained still, transfixed, caught by the man before her. He came into the room, moved around to her side, offering his hand down to her.
She stood, then, taking his hand, guiding him without words over to the stairs, heading up to her room. She hesitated for a long moment outside the door, the last vestiges of self-preservation hovering over her. Then she pushed the door gently open, drawing him into her childhood refuge.
His eyes swept the room, taking in her low bed, the simple dresser, the open window, the table with its pitcher and bowl of lavender buds. Then he brought them back to meet hers, and she felt the full force of his gaze, felt herself open beneath it.
There was nothing left to hide. She was his, body and soul.
He saw her look, answered it with his own, and then they we
re kissing, kissing, their bodies melding into one, their arms pulling each other in close. Then they were on the bed, and their clothes were coming off, each layer falling onto the ground as leaves in a rainstorm. His hands were on her, and she welcomed every touch, craved every contact, pulled him in hard, and she was rising, rising … they crashed and spun and released in a wildness of feeling and emotion. Morgan hung there for a long while, suspended on air, gently drifting back down to earth, safely cradled in his arms, nestled into his cocoon.
Sean stroked her hair, gazing down at her in admiration, nestling tender kisses on her cheek, her chin. He moved down to her throat and suddenly his body went rigid. He brought one hand up to trace a line along her neck, then returned his gaze to hers.
“What is this?” he demanded, his gaze sharp.
“Oh, that,” murmured Morgan, her mind still enveloped in a warm fuzz. “That was from Coll.”
“You saw Coll while you were alone and unguarded?” snapped Sean, looking down at her in shocked fury.
Morgan chuckled softly, a grin playing on her lips. “I would not call it ‘seeing him’, she rebutted gently. “It was more that he tried to take me hostage when I rode from the keep to my parents’ house.
Sean’s face went white. “My God, Morgan, why did you not tell me?”
Morgan traced a hand tenderly along the side of his face. “I do not believe we said one word between us from when you arrived until now,” she pointed out with a smile.
He relaxed at that, chuckling quietly. “Perhaps you are right,” he agreed, “but I am listening now. What happened?”
Morgan nestled herself into Sean’s arms. “Coll played himself as an injured traveler, and when I went to check on him, he grabbed me. He was under the impression that Cassandra needed help dealing with my adventurous spirit.” Her grin deepened. “I quickly convinced him that his time would be better spent on enjoying my assets, rather than keeping me under guard.”