The McKinnon

by James, Ranay

  Morgan was trying not to think of Nic as she plunged herself into the training. For her the training was her reason for getting up each day. Her anger, aggression, and fear had found an outlet. Cullen was a wonderful teacher and a wonderful friend, but she missed Nic terribly. The ache was never gone.

  Plus, she was finding life at court to be unnatural for her. It was all the things Morgan was not and could never be. She detested the constant scheming and unwanted advances.

  “Morgan, pay attention!” Cullen barked at her. “I would be able to kill you right now were I a mind to do so. Get your mind on the lessons.”

  Morgan stopped her counter-move. He was right, she thought. My head is not in the game. Looking at Cullen, she brushed a lock of hair away from her face that had managed to come loose from under her boy’s hat.

  Cullen was finding it difficult to resist the urge to finish the task for her. But he knew better. Damn, he thought, she is beautiful even in her current state of dishevelment.

  Nic was so lucky. Cullen shook his head, pushing the thought away.

  “I apologize, Morgan. Please, forgive me,” Cullen said sincerely. He never wanted to be sharp with her, or make her the outlet of his frustration.

  “No, Cullen, there is nothing to forgive. I am the one who is sorry. I was thinking about how much I hate this place.” Thoughtfully, she added placing her hand on his sleeve. “I need to leave.”

  Cullen was in complete agreement. He had seen her temper growing shorter and moods growing blacker with each passing week. He was not sure how much more she could take.

  He was not sure how much more he could take either. He put distance between them before he lost all good sense and pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She was his brother’s wife for Christ’s sake.

  However, what man could resist her. She was beautiful inside and out, holding a keen intelligence and an honesty, and both were refreshing. Her inner beauty radiated from her like a beacon in a harbor, her light shining to lost ships.

  “Morgan, I’ll go to the King as soon as he will give me an audience and ask him for permission to take our leave.”

  Morgan’s relieved express was obvious as she looked at him. “Oh, Cullen, thank you. You do not know how much this will mean to me.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

  Her soft, warm lips got him thinking. If they would leave, where would they go?

  “We're not far from the estate you wanted reside in, right?” he asked withdrawing her arms from his neck. Her embrace was too tempting to allow her to keep touching him.

  She smiled at him. “Yes. My mother received the estate from my father as a wedding gift. I have not been to Hearthill Manor since my brothers were babies. However, I have monitored it by sneaking looks at my uncle’s books on those nights I crept out of the tower room. It should support us with ease. I won't be a burden to you or to Nic.”

  Morgan’s comment surprised Cullen. First, because she thought she was a burden, and second because it was the first time she had spoken Nic’s name since the day he left.

  “Morgan, you could never be a burden. Nic wouldn't allow you to think that way. Neither will I. Protecting you and having your company have been my greatest pleasure.”

  She sighed, feeling weary and alone.

  “Morgan, I’m sorry, but I must tell you I have heard from your uncle, and on two occasions, he has sent an emissary and armed escort to deliver you back to Seabridge. He has made it perfectly clear he feels you should be at home and not at Court as long as Nic is actively deployed.”

  Morgan gasped involuntarily at the thought of going back to that wretched place.

  Cullen was quick to belay her concern. “No, Morgan, please do not get upset." Even having no real clue of the atrocities her uncle was capable of carrying out, Nic had promised not to send her back because he understood it was not what Morgan wanted. Cullen certainly was not going to let her uncle take her back, knowing that her uncle was a monster.

  "I have refused this, of course, and thankfully, Henry agrees, but there are matters we need to settle. Unfortunately, some of these matters do involve your uncle. It is most regrettable, but also unavoidable.”

  “I was wondering at what point he would surface and try to maneuver this to his advantage.” Morgan let out a long, audible sigh. “To be honest, I have been holding my breath waiting for him to act. He's way too silence and complacent. That alone leads me to believe he is planning something.”

  Cullen did not want to tell her there had been three attempts to kidnap her that he and his men had thwarted. Her uncle had been anything except complacent, and there were eleven dead men to prove it, too.

  “I just wish Nic were here to deal with him.” Cullen was beginning to feel frustrated. Nic should be here. Was it not Nic's responsibility to see to the safety of his wife? Yet Cullen knew Nic would be here if it were possible. It was not Nic’s fault Henry had sent him to Ireland. Still, it did not change the fact that under normal circumstances it was not Cullen’s place to defend her, although he would gladly take that place.

  “Listen, I have no issue standing in as Nic’s proxy where you are concerned. However, I must tell you, I am not sure how much weight I will carry. Nic is your husband and has legal right to you and the lands. Unfortunately, I have no rights to you, legal or otherwise.”

  Cullen regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He never planned to reveal even a hint of his true feelings for her, and he had all but declared his love with that one small statement.

  Cullen gazed at Morgan and knew he had to tell her. “Morgan, Lord Brentwood is claiming foul on your marriage and the events leading up to it. I had hoped to avoid telling you, but he has filed a petition with the King to have your marriage declared invalid due to the circumstances under which it occurred. I fear your behavior on finding out Nic had married you is well-known. It is also well-known that Nic asked the King for an annulment.”

  Morgan’s eyes went wide. She had no idea her past actions could be so damaging to her. Could her uncle gain the upper hand by claiming her marriage a sham?

  She panicked. “Cullen, Nic asked for the annulment because he felt I wanted it and perhaps I did. Maybe, I still do. I don’t know anymore.” Morgan placed her face in her hands and let out a small groan of frustration. She looked back at him, all misgivings aside. “I do know this. I would rather be Nic’s wife than my uncle’s ward. At least, I know that I will survive Nic’s actions. No one ever died of a broken heart. A broken neck is quite another story.” She looked at Cullen. Her voice had been expressionless like her face. “He would kill me. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I know. I also know I have Nic’s permission to act as his representative; however, your uncle can still challenge this right. I’ll approach the King this evening about leaving.”

  “The sooner the better as far as I am concerned.

  Morgan stopped and pulled Cullen back by the sleeve. “Cullen, there is more, isn’t there? Talk to me.” Morgan had grown to know her friend, and something was definitely amiss.

  “Morgan, I think I need to send someone to find out what is going on in Ireland. I would go myself, but I don't dare leave you in the care of any other. The danger to you is great and is still not past. If your uncle loses to the King, he will try other means.“ Cullen did not want to think about what those “other means” would be.

  “Why do you feel the need to go to Ireland?” Morgan questioned. She had her suspicions.

  “It's not like Nic to be totally silent.” Even when they were in the most covert of missions, Nic always managed to send reports back across enemy lines to Henry.

  “Are you saying Nic has not even written to you?”

  “I have not heard a single word in over four months. I do not want to distress you, but no one has heard from the troops. Not even the King knows their movements. I’m not feeling good about this, Morgan. From a military point, it is unusual and not good.�
�

  Morgan’s color drained. She felt faint as thoughts began to run through her head. He had voiced her darkest fears.

  “Cullen, what are you saying? Nic might be dead?”

  Before he could answer, she lifted her chin in defiance of the fates. “No. I will not believe it.”

  Her distress was obvious and Cullen could have kicked himself for doing this to her when it may not even be necessary. If he had any doubts about Morgan’s feelings toward his brother, he pushed them aside. Morgan was still in love with Nic--end of story.

  “No, Morgan that is not what I’m saying.” He placed his hands on her shoulders tenderly, cupping her upper arms in comfort and support. “I’m just saying the situation is not normal.” He dropped his hands before he gave into the urge to hold her. They were out in the open, and so far, no one had figured out the young man he trained with was the Duchess. “It could be nothing. I just don't have the answers.”

  Morgan squared her shoulders. “Then we will go and find those answers. I’ll go with you. It will place me outside the reach of my uncle. Cullen, you must get the King to agree to let us leave. Use the silence of Nic and his troops as the reasoning for us to go. We have to find him. He needs us. I can feel it. Come,” she said, grabbing his hand and turning back to the castle. “We have work to do. We’ll see just how well her majesty has taught me to use my looks and gracious ways to get what I want. And right now, I want to go to Ireland.”

  Cullen knew he might as well get his trunk packed. He also had to accept this woman was perfect for Nic.

  Chapter 62

  “It is done.” Cullen closed the door to Morgan’s room.

  “When do we leave?” Morgan asked anxiously. Waiting patiently was certainly not her best trait. Morgan understood how easily the King could deny her request to leave the royal court.

  Cullen was successful in securing the permission to leave. That grant came directly from the King the night before, and Cullen had to admit this was carried out in no small part to Morgan’s persuasion. It would seem the Queen had done her part to show Morgan the finer art of manipulation of the stronger sex. Heaven help Nic once he got back because after seeing her in action, Cullen knew his brother did not stand a chance against this woman. She had the King agreeing to things the strongest diplomat and most seasoned negotiator could never have accomplished. They were leaving for Ireland day after tomorrow.

  Chapter 63

  As Morgan packed her belongings, a knock on the door interrupted her. She was stunned to see Sir Gregory, and his very pregnant wife, Lady Elizabeth, standing in front of her. Elizabeth looked embarrassed. It was common knowledge she was much further along in her pregnancy than the marriage would have allowed. Not the first baby conceived before the priest was involved, but this one had speculation running rampant through the Court.

  “Good morning. What may I do for you?” Morgan politely inquired.

  “May we come in, Lady McKinnon,” Gregory asked politely. “We would like to speak to you in private.”

  “Of course, please forgive my manners.” Morgan was fighting the urge to throw them out. However, there was something different about Elizabeth since she married Gregory.

  “Please, Elizabeth come and take a seat where you can cushion your back.”

  Morgan watched as she sat in the most comfortable chair in her suite then she showed Gregory to the chair next to his wife. Morgan seated herself across from them.

  “Now, please let me know how I may assist you,” Morgan asked politely and with genuine concern.

  Elizabeth began crying.

  Morgan rose to get the distraught Elizabeth water. “Elizabeth you are distressed. Please, let me get you something to drink. You must not allow yourself to become so upset. Think of your child.”

  “No, I do not deserve you kindness. Please, I pray you to sit. I fear I have caused you great hurt, Your Grace.” Elizabeth looked back at her husband for support. Morgan saw love, support, and strength between the couple. Nic was going to be very disappointed when he returned, she ventured.

  Gently, Gregory urged his wife. “Go on, Lizzy. You owe her this apology. You owe it to Nic, too.”

  “Yes.” She hung her head in shame. “I owe you an apology, and so much more. Oh, Your Grace, if I could right this wrong, I would. You must believe me, Lady Morgan. I was foolish, not thinking about how one action could so deeply and permanently hurt others. I was angry with Nic for turning me away. I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to hurt him.” Elizabeth wept.

  Morgan could see she was hurting, and her confession helped to cleanse her soul. Morgan hoped the cleansing would not be at her expense.

  “It will be all right, Liz. Let us finish this,” Gregory urged.

  Elizabeth collected herself. Taking a deep breath, she turned to look at Gregory. The look passing between them was so intimate that Morgan almost felt as if she were an intruder in her own room.

  Elizabeth began to speak again. “When I married Gregory it made me see how precious love can be. I love my husband deeply. Now I see how Nic felt about you the day he left.” Hanging her head in shame, she finally confessed what Morgan could not believe. “Nic did not want me, Lady Morgan. He never did. Here, this belongs to you. I purposefully did not deliver it.”

  She pulled out the letter that had gone undelivered, and with trembling hands handed it over to Morgan.

  Morgan saw the handwriting. Her heart almost stopped beating in her chest.

  “My Lady, I had forgotten about it until yesterday. Gregory and I were discussing Nic’s part in us coming together when I remembered Nic had written to the Queen, to Cullen, and--”

  “And to me.”

  Morgan sat in stunned silence. Gracefully rising from her chair, she walked to the window slit. She stood looking at the far countryside. She was at a loss for words. What was she feeling? Morgan wondered at her lack of anger. She turned back to the couple, crossed the space between them then seated herself before she spoke. Morgan leaned over and took the young woman’s hands in hers.

  “So you hoped to find forgiveness?” Morgan was not expecting an answer, and to her amazement there was nothing to forgive. “Elizabeth, I have found life is too short to linger on those things we cannot go back and change. Am I hurt? Yes, to be sure. Do I forgive you? If I say nay then this act accomplishes nothing.” Morgan, feeling well past her years, looked deeply into Elizabeth’s eyes. “I pray you will forgive yourself. That will be enough for me.”

  Releasing Elizabeth’s hands, Morgan turned to Gregory. “I’m sorry Gregory, but I must ask Elizabeth a question.” Morgan turned back to Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, I must know the truth. Is the child Nic’s?”

  Gregory broke in, “Allow me to answer. No, Your Grace, the child is mine.” Gregory proudly confessed as he sat there holding his wife’s hand. “I have been involved with and have loved Elizabeth for years.”

  Relief washed over Morgan. How would Nic feel knowing another was raising his child? Fortunately, that question would not need answering, at least not today, and not with Elizabeth’s child.

  “I am happy for you and the contentment you have found in each other. I appreciate you finally coming forward. It took courage to face me, and your act took support, Gregory, for her to do this. I pray you always have this with each other. Love is fragile and precious.” Standing she was dismissing them. “Now, if you will please excuse me. I have packing to do.”

  Morgan showed them to the door.

  Elizabeth reached out and hugged her. “Good luck, Lady McKinnon. You'll find him. Have faith in his love for you. He does not give love lightly, therefore, I cannot believe he would give up on it any easier.”

  Chapter 64

  “Morgan, you must open it. To not open it accomplishes nothing.” Cullen held the letter out to her in hopes she might take it. After they ate a late supper, she told Cullen what had happened earlier in the day.

  Morgan shook her head, keeping her hands in her lap. “No, Cullen, I d
on't want to know.” She knew she was acting like a coward.

  “Very well, Morgan, but remember this, whatever is in the letter was Nic’s wish that you do know.”

  Later after the castle had quieted, and all was peaceful except Morgan’s rampaging thoughts, she threw the covers back with an exasperated sigh and got out of bed. Picking up the ermine robe, she covered herself from the growing cold of the deepening fall weather.

  She walked over to the table then stared at the letter for some time before she finally gained the courage to pick it up. Her name was written on the front. Running her hand over the confident and sweeping handwriting, she closed her eyes in hopes of feeling him as he had written it to her. Was he angry? Was he sad? She did not know what to think now that she had all the pieces.

  When she opened her eyes, it was as if she was seeing her name for the first time: Lady Morgan McKinnon, Seventh Duchess of Seabridge.

  Why had it not occurred to her she had not lost herself in becoming Nic’s wife? She had become a part of something better in joining her name to his, her body with his, her life with his. She was still Morgan the Duchess, as she had always been and always would be, but she had become much, much more. Now she was Morgan the wife, Morgan the supporter, and Morgan the mother.

  Protectively, she placed her hand over her rounding belly. The fluttering had started weeks ago, making the baby a reality. She knew it would not be long before the physical proof of the love she and Nic had shared would be clear to everyone.

  She had hidden, even from Cullen, she was five months pregnant. The heavier winter clothing she had taken to wearing had been a good camouflage up to this point. However, the clothes would not hide the baby growing inside her much longer. And she was fearful for the safety of her child, wanting to protect this tiny life at all cost.

  Morgan blew the dust off her letter, and with shaky hands, broke the seal and then began to read.

  June 4