by Ruth Langan
As always he ingratiated himself with the queen. “I can understand their devotion, Majesty. It pleases me as it pleases all your subjects to convey our love and devotion to our beautiful queen.”
From his place at the table Morgan listened to this exchange with a sense of disgust. Could the queen not see through Windham’s shallow flattery?
He thought of Elizabeth’s words at court. Even a woman as powerful as the Queen of England desired honeyed words at times. Even if they masked the truth.
“Then it is decided.”
At the queen’s nod, Morgan rang for Mistress Leems, who directed the servants to begin serving the queen and her company. “After the noon Angelus chimes we will leave for the village.”
The villagers of Greystone Abbey were fiercely proud of their legacy of devotion to the Crown. In preparation for the visit of their monarch, the village square was hung with flags and buntings and banners proclaiming this the queen’s day. A feast had been prepared by the village women. Tables set with fine linen and crystal had been placed in the village square beneath tents to protect them from the rain.
A gift was hurriedly prepared. A tax had been collected to fill a wooden coffer with gold. When Morgan had heard, he’d insisted upon adding to the gift, so that the villagers would not be forced to sacrifice their meager funds. He had also donated several deer from his larder to round out the feast.
When the carriages from Greystone Abbey arrived in the village, the inhabitants crowded around for their first glimpse of the queen. Many in the crowd held their children aloft. When Elizabeth stepped from her fine carriage, arrayed in a royal velvet gown and matching cape lined with ermine, and wearing a diamond tiara in her hair, there were shouts and cries of joy. The church bells rang out, filling the air with their happy sounds for nearly ten minutes. Then, as the queen stood, proud and haughty before them, the assembled crowd grew abruptly silent as they bowed and curtsied, awaiting her benediction.
The queen studied the silent, respectful crowd. The men and women were dressed in their finest clothes. The children, plump and pink-cheeked, were on their best behavior as they stared unblinking at the red-haired woman who looked every inch the queen.
“Majesty.” The village elder was led forward, pale and trembling in the presence of his queen. “Words cannot express the love your people feel for you. Unworthy though we be, we are grateful for your visit to our humble village.”
Seeing the way his hands shook, the queen blessed him with her sweetest smile. “It is I who am grateful.” Her voice rose above the crying babies and the sighing of the wind in the trees. “Grateful for the love and loyalty of good people like you.”
As she began to move among the villagers, Morgan stayed close by her side. His men, having been carefully instructed, mingled with the people, watching to see that no one who came near the queen could be concealing a weapon. Though Morgan knew the perils, he had been unwilling to deny his villagers this chance to see their ruler. Yet he also knew that he would not relax his guard until this day was ended, and the queen was safely at his home.
The village elder led the queen to the green, where the feast awaited her. As she took her place at the head of the table, Elizabeth knew from experience that she would have to endure endless speeches before she was allowed to enjoy the food. Lord Quigley sat alone, already tasting every morsel that the queen would be permitted to eat.
When everyone had taken their places at the rows of crude tables, the lord mayor of the village bowed low before the queen and began his prepared speech. His voice quavered in a most unbecoming fashion. His knees trembled. His beard shook. But though he appeared terrified, he continued speaking until the queen was forced to stifle a yawn.
After the lord mayor came the sheriff, who proved to be a fine orator. So fine that he talked until he spied the village elder’s head nodding. Reluctantly he turned to the village recorder, who would also make a speech before presenting the queen with the village gift.
When at last Elizabeth was presented with the coffer of gold, she stood regally and declared, “I am most grateful. But all that I have ever desired were the hearts and true allegiance of my good people.”
Then, handing the gift to Morgan, she asked that the feasting begin.
Seated beside her, Morgan swallowed his laughter. Despite all her denials, he noted, the queen did not return the gift of gold. Nor would she when the feasting was done. She may desire their hearts and allegiance, but she enjoyed their gold as well.
When the last morsel had been consumed, the queen and her guests were treated to a great pageant. Thespians performed a play in which the queen was likened to the Greek gods. Musicians from the village played while young maidens, clad in their finest gowns, performed ancient dances. And finally, the brightest young lad was brought forth to recite a poem praising the queen’s beauty and integrity.
When darkness fell there were fireworks. And when at last the queen and her company were assisted into their carriages, the church bells tolled, filling the night air with the sound of celebration.
“What think you, Morgan?” the queen asked as the carriage rolled along the road toward Greystone Abbey.
“I think, Majesty, that the villagers will speak of this for generations to come. Mothers will tell their daughters, and they will speak of it proudly to their children, until this grand visit of yours has become a legend.”
“Aye,” Brenna said with a sigh. “’Tis the stuff of legends, Majesty. Never have I seen such an outpouring of love.”
The queen leaned her head back and closed her eyes. What need had she of a consort? This love was what fed her soul. With love like this, how could she have ever believed for a moment that her life was in any danger?
Brenna awoke from a deep sleep and listened to the insistent tapping on the door of the sitting chamber. For a moment a chill passed through her as she was reminded of her nighttime attack.
The tapping continued. She chose to ignore the sound. If one of the servants desired entrance, they would have to come back in the morning.
Morgan lay against her back, his arms wrapped protectively around her. Their legs were tangled in the bed linens. They had spent a long, leisurely night of lovemaking. Her body still hummed from his caresses.
The tapping sounded again. Her lids opened. Judging by the darkness of the room, Brenna knew that it would be hours until dawn. Who would seek her out at such a time? Certainly not her attacker.
Her heart skipped a beat. Perhaps Madeline. Or an emissary from the queen. Could one of them be ill?
She slipped soundlessly from bed and snatched up her dagger from the bedside table. She slipped it into her waistband, then pulled a shawl around her shoulders and padded barefoot to the other room.
When she pulled open the door she was stunned to find Cordell standing with his hand poised in the air, about to knock again.
“My lady,” he whispered, “I must speak with you.”
For a moment she could only stare at him. Then, as she began to close the door she whispered, “On the morrow…”
“Nay.” He caught the door, holding it open. “This cannot wait until morning.”
Brenna’s eyes widened. “Is it Madeline? Or Adrianna?”
“Nay, my lady. The problem is mine. Will you come with me below stairs where we may speak without detection?”
Brenna hesitated. But the imploring look on his face, and the urgency of his tone, persuaded her. She closed the door behind her and walked beside him until they reached the deserted great room.
Brenna crossed the room to stand before the fireplace. Even though the fire had long ago burned down, the hot coals chased away the chill. She turned.
“What is so urgent, Cordell, that you would rout me from my bed at this late hour?”
“It is my gambling debt to Lord Windham,” he began.
“What of it?”
A chilling voice sounded from the far side of the room. “He promised payment on this day,” Windh
am said, stepping from the shadows.
Brenna felt the ice curl along her spine. Her hand instinctively moved to the hilt of her dagger.
“It will soon be the dawn of another day, and still this Frenchman has not paid his debt. Unless this thing is settled now, I will be forced to go to the queen and demand that Cordell be confined to debtor’s prison.”
“That would seem a harsh measure, my lord.” Brenna glanced from Windham to Cordell. “What has this to do with me?”
“I had hoped, my lady,” Cordell said, his face pale, “that you might be willing to buy my debt from Lord Windham.”
“Buy your debt?” She glanced at Windham. “Would you be willing to sell it?”
“Aye, my lady. For the amount due. Two hundred gold sovereigns.”
Brenna shrugged. “I will speak with Morgan.”
“Nay, my lady.” Cordell stepped forward until she could see his eyes by the light of the coals. They were round with fear. “My little sister, Adrianna, seems captivated by Richard Grey. I cannot allow his brother to think unkindly about my family, else I could shatter Adrianna’s heart. And Madeline and Charles are two of Morgan Grey’s dearest friends. A scandal like this could come between their friendship.” His voice pleaded. “All I ask is that you pay Lord Windham two hundred gold sovereigns. In return, I shall send you the sum of two hundred fifty gold sovereigns when I return to France.”
Brenna caught his cold hands in hers. “Two or two hundred, it matters not to me. I have no money of my own in this land. I am completely dependent upon the generosity of Morgan Grey.”
Her words were like a knife in Cordell’s heart. With a stricken look he turned to Windham.
“My lord. You have heard the lady. How can I persuade you to allow me more time?”
“Your time is up.” Windham paused, then said softly, “Unless…”
“What is it? Please,” Cordell urged, feeling a glimmer of hope. “I will do anything.”
Windham glanced beyond Cordell to study Brenna, as though the thought had just struck him. “I might be persuaded to accept something of value until the debt can be paid.”
Cordell was puzzled. “I have nothing of value, my lord.”
“Perhaps the lady has.” Windham waited, becoming aroused as his sense of power began to grow. They still did not understand. But in a few moments they would be caught in his web.
“Nay. I have nothing,” Brenna said. “I was brought to England with nothing but the clothes upon my back.”
“You have jewels.” Windham deliberately kept his tone soft, to veil his mounting excitement.
“They are Morgan’s jewels,” Brenna said patiently. “They have been in Morgan’s family for generations.”
“The necklace you wore last night is yours.” Windham glanced at Cordell for confirmation. “Did you not hear Morgan Grey say as much?”
“Aye,” Cordell affirmed. “But they are worth far more than the two hundred gold sovereigns that I owe you, my lord.”
“True. This would seem a paltry sum for one as wealthy as the Lady Brenna. But I would be willing to hold the jewels until you can return to France and pay your debt to the lady.”
Brenna felt the protest rise in her throat. She turned to Cordell. “I cannot do this without Morgan’s permission. I would feel that I had somehow betrayed his trust.”
“I understand, my lady.” Cordell turned to face the man who would be judge and executioner.
Windham’s voice was pure silk. “Of course, if the jewels mean that much to you, my lady, that you would refuse to help a friend, I understand, too.” He sighed, as if the matter were finished. “I regret that I will be forced to go to the queen.” His voice purred. “I regret that Madeline will be shamed before her husband. And of course, a young woman as sweet and shy as Adrianna will never again be able to face Richard Grey. She is young, though extremely vulnerable. He, of course, has already been severely damaged. The scandal could shatter their lives.”
Brenna paled. She thought of her own sisters, and the fierce pride they had in their family honor. And then she thought of the first woman who had befriended her in this land. Madeline. And what of Adrianna and Richard? No one deserved love and happiness more than they.
“You will only hold the jewels, my lord? And when Cordell’s debt is paid you will return them to me?”
“Have I not said as much?”
Brenna hesitated for a moment longer, seeing the light of hope that flickered in Cordell’s dark eyes. She had not the heart to extinguish his last hope.
She started toward the door, determined to do the deed quickly, before she changed her mind. Within minutes she had returned with the velvet pouch containing the necklace and earrings.
“You will breathe not a word of this,” she said, placing the pouch in Windham’s hands.
His eyes glittered as he opened the pouch and felt the warmth of the diamonds and amethyst in his palm. “My lips are sealed.”
“And you,” she said to Cordell, “will give me your word that you will never again gamble.”
“I swear it, my lady.” He fell to his knees and brought both her hands to his lips. “I am your devoted servant for the rest of my life.”
As Brenna made her way to bed, she felt a heaviness around her heart. This had all happened too quickly. In her tired, overwrought state, there had been no time to reason her way through this, and now her mind was reeling.
There would be no sleep for her this night. As she settled herself beside Morgan, she drew close to him, hoping to absorb his warmth, his strength. She had helped a friend, but it gave her little satisfaction. She could not shake her eerie feelings about Windham. The man was evil. And she had the frightening feeling that there was more to this than a gambling debt.
Chapter Twenty-two
“You look tired, lass.” Richard’s head came up from the rose he was tending.
“Aye. I did not sleep well last night.” Brenna glanced around. “Is Adrianna not with you?”
“Nay. She and her sister are visiting with the queen. I thought you would be with them.”
“I sent my regrets. I have been searching for you.” She licked her lips. “You once said that if I desired to talk, you would be here to listen.”
Richard placed the shears in his lap and leaned forward in his wheeled chair. “What is it, lass? What troubles you?”
“Oh, Richard.”
He saw the tears that welled up in her eyes.
“I cannot tell you without betraying a confidence. But I fear I have done a terrible thing. If Morgan learns of it, he will never forgive me.”
“You, lass?” Richard took her hands in his and stared into her eyes. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to my brother. You have brought back all the love, all the laughter, that had been buried beneath so much pain. Because of you, Morgan has learned to live again, and laugh again. And what is more important, trust again.”
Trust. Brenna felt as if her heart would break from the pain. “By helping a friend I may have destroyed his trust forever.”
Richard leaned forward and touched a finger to her lips to silence her. “Listen to me, Brenna. I had not thought it possible that Morgan would ever recover from the pain of his youthful marriage. What you have done for him is nothing short of a miracle.”
“I do not understand. Why was he left so bitter and angry?”
“When a man is young and honorable, he believes that the whole world is the same. It is shattering to discover that some people are so shallow, or so cruel, that they have no regard for anyone but themselves.”
Richard leaned back, feeling the sunshine warm upon his face. “My brother was hardly more than a lad the first time he went to his marriage bed. No more than twenty. And she but ten and five.”
“What was her name?”
A slight frown furrowed Richard’s brow. “She was the queen’s cousin, Catherine Elder.”
The queen’s own cousin. Timidly Brenna asked, “Was she very be
autiful?”
“Beautiful enough to turn the head of every man at court. She had hair the color of a gold sovereign, and a full, ripe figure.” Richard’s frown grew. “But Morgan was not the only man in love with her. There were many men who paid her court.”
“But of all the men who sought her, Morgan was the one who won her hand.”
“Aye, lass, but the price he paid was not worth the prize.”
“I do not understand.”
“Morgan may have won her hand, but another won her heart. She came to her marriage bed carrying another man’s child.”
“How horrible.”
“Aye. Other men would have had her put away. But Morgan was too tenderhearted for his own good. He reasoned that he would save the lady’s honor, even though everyone already knew she was sullied. The other man had refused to do the honorable thing. So Morgan endured the humiliation. But within weeks of their marriage, she fell once more under the spell of her former lover.”
“Did no one know his identity?” Brenna asked.
“Nay. She refused to tell even her family who the man was.” Richard shrugged. “At the time, we thought she was simply so in love, she could not bring herself to speak of him. But later, when it was too late, we realized that she had been warned by this man not to reveal his identity under threat of death.”
“How could he claim to love her and still threaten her life?”
“Catherine was too blinded by passion to ask that question, lass. She simply wanted to believe that the rake loved her. But he was merely using her. He coerced her into stealing from Morgan’s considerable fortune. This went on for several months, and may have gone undetected even longer had not the man become greedy.”
Picturing a youthful, noble Morgan, Brenna felt the sting of tears. She quickly blinked them away. Though it pained her to hear of Morgan’s past, she was now compelled to hear all of it.
“In the library Morgan discovered a strongbox opened. The contents were missing. When he confronted Catherine, she admitted that she had given them to her lover. Morgan flew into a rage and ordered her to tell him the name of the man who had dragged her to such depths.”