deliberately caused me to relax my guard so you could learn my
strategy."
She smiled at him across the table.
"Aye, but no matter.
"Tis only a game."
"Nay. For a soldier who can no longer go to battle, it is more than a
game. It is a challenge of skill. To beat me, you must think like a
soldier."
"Aye." She studied the man across the chessboard.
"When next I challenge you, Richard, I will beat you."
"I look forward to our duel, lass." He looked up at his brother, who
stood beside the fireplace, his hand resting on the mantel.
"Bring me a goblet, Morgan, and let me celebrate the fact that I have
finally found someone who will force me to work at this game. Unlike,"
he added with a wink to Brenna, "most of those who challenge me in this
place."
With a smile Morgan filled two goblets and handed them to Richard and
Brenna. It pleased him to see his brother so animated. How ironic
that it should be this reluctant Scotswoman who should bring such
changes to Greystone Abbey and its inhabitants.
As Morgan handed his brother a goblet he grinned.
"You only beat me because I allow it."
"You have not beaten me at chess in over a year. I only challenge you
to keep my hand in the game."
As Morgan filled his goblet, Brenna studied the flames of the fire.
Except for the hiss and snap of the logs, there was no sound to break
the stillness.
"There is such peace here," Brenna said to Richard.
"I can understand why you wanted to be here."
"It was not peace I sought.
"Twas sanctuary from the cruel stares, the helplessness I felt."
She heard the pain in his words and grew silent. But with effort,
Richard pulled himself out of his dark thoughts.
"Is there such a place in your land, lass?"
She shook her head.
"If only there could be such peace for my people.
It is my most fervent wish for them. Alas, my poor land has been
besieged for generations. There is no safe refuge for my clan. "
"If you accede to Elizabeth's wishes, there can be peace between our
people." Morgan's tone was abrupt.
"Is marriage to an Englishman such a terrible price to pay?"
Brenna went very still. Hadn't the same question been troubling her
for days now? Yet, if the thought of sacrificing herself was
repugnant, the thought of sacrificing her sister was too painful to
contemplate.
"I believe I could endure anything for the sake of my people. If your
queen would agree that my marriage would seal a bond of peace, I would
accede to her wishes. But I will not allow Megan to be part of the
grand design."
"Megan?" Richard was suddenly alert.
"My younger sister. She escaped into the Highlands before I was
captured."
Richard looked impressed.
"She eluded your men, Morgan?"
"Aye. At her sister's coaching she made it to the safety of the
forest, where she was swallowed up. But there was no need to go after
her. The Lady Brenna was our prize."
Prize indeed. Richard stared at the woman who sipped her wine, then
glanced at his brother, who watched her through narrowed eyes. He
finished his wine and stifled a yawn.
"I would retire now, Morgan."
"So soon?"
"The Lady Brenna had me in the garden for hours today, supervising the
planting of trees."
Morgan was suddenly alert.
"You planted trees, my lady?"
Brenna flushed, knowing that she had overstepped her bounds.
"Forgive me, my lord. But several of the trees were beyond saving. And
I thought..." Her cheeks grew several shades darker.
"I had no right."
"If Richard approved of them, you had every right." He turned to his
brother.
"Where are the trees planted?"
"Near our old fountain. They shade our mother's old rose garden."
Morgan felt both a flush of pleasure and a trace of annoyance.
"I will see these trees on the morrow."
Stepping behind his brother's chair, he began to push it toward the
doorway. A waiting servant took the chair when they had bid
goodnight.
"Come, my lady," Morgan said abruptly.
"I will see you to your room."
As they climbed the stairs Morgan said casually, "I have invited the
queen to Greystone Abbey for a hunt. She will be bringing Madeline and
Charles along. I thought you might like to see them."
Brenna's smile was quick.
"Aye, my lord."
"Then I shall invite them to stay on for several days if you would
like."
"Thank you." At the door to her room Brenna paused.
"When will they be here?"
"As quickly as it can be arranged."
Brenna felt her spirits soar. She would not feel nearly so alone with
Madeline here.
"Thank you, my lord."
He startled her by touching a hand to her cheek.
"If I had but known that Madeline's visit would bring such a bloom to
your cheeks, I would have invited her here days ago."
The rush of heat was so swift she felt suddenly lightheaded. For long
minutes he stared down into her eyes, and she sensed that he was going
to kiss her.
For a moment her heart forgot to beat. She waited, anticipating the
touch of his mouth to hers.
Morgan paused, toying with the idea of brushing her lips with his. A
warning bell sounded in his mind. It was extremely dangerous to kiss
this woman. Each time, he'd had to walk through fire to resist taking
her.
He studied the soft, seductive lips, the invitation in her eyes, and
stepped back, breaking contact. It was difficult enough to sleep,
knowing the woman slept but a room away. If he were to kiss her, sleep
would elude him for the entire night.
"Sleep well, my lady."
He dropped his hand and strode quickly away.
Chapter Fourteen
<2<$zAps^ )
"Why is the deed not yet done? "
In the distance the misty turrets of Richmond Palace could be seen.
Two shadowy figures stood in the woods just before sunrise, speaking
with muted voices.
"I have tried."
"Aye. And failed."
"The queen is never alone. Since Morgan Grey's return to England, he
is with her every day. She refuses to go anywhere without that savage
at her side."
"Then eliminate him." The tone was tense, angry.
"I do not pay you for excuses. The deed must be done soon, else I will
lose favor with those who would obtain the throne. If you cannot see
to it, I will find someone else willing to take the risk."
"You know it is not the risk I fear. I have already risked much. But
we must be cautious and choose a time and place where there will be no
witnesses to the deed."
"Do you have a plan?"
"Aye." The man gave a chilling smile.
"The queen plans to leave for Greystone Abbey, Morgan Grey's manor
house near Richmond. It is very secluded."
The other man rubbed his hands together.
/> "The perfect time and place for an--accident. But," he asked with a
slid den frown, "how do you know you will be included in the queen's
plans?"
"Leave that to me."
"Beware. Our future, and the future of all England, depends upon
this.
You must be willing to kill anyone who gets in the way of our plan. "
"I am aware of the urgency, old friend. Do not fear. And as for the
killing..." The man's laugh sent a ripple of terror along his
companion's spine.
"I look forward to it."
The two men clasped hands before going their separate ways. Within
minutes the mists had swallowed them up, leaving no trace of their
meeting.
As the first rays of sunlight slanted through the windows, Brenna
bounded from her bed, eager for the day.
How sweet the anticipation. Madeline d'Arbeville would accompany the
queen this day. Her first friend in England. How she needed a friend
to keep her from the homesickness that gnawed at her soul.
As Rosamunde helped her dress, she chided her mistress.
"I have never seen you so animated, my lady."
"Aye. I am eager to see the Duchess of Eton once more. She was most
kind to me at Richmond."
Rosamunde finished the last button on Brenna's gown, then lifted the
brush to her hair. When she was finished she stepped back to survey
the results.
"You look lovely, my lady."
"Thanks to you." Brenna lifted her skirts and turned, nearly colliding
with Morgan, who was just entering her room.
Her startled eyes looked up into his as he brought his hands to her
shoulders to steady her.
"I did not hear you, my lord." Why did her heart thunder so at his
touch?
"Where are you off to in such a wild rush?"
"I must see to the guest rooms before Madeline arrives."
There was a note of amusement in his voice.
"That is why we have servants, my lady."
"But I want everything to be perfect for our guests."
Our guests. Though Brenna seemed unaware of what she had said, Morgan
felt oddly pleased by the term.
"Do you have time to break your fast, my lady? Or must you begin your
work immediately?"
She flushed, realizing that she was the object of his teasing
laughter.
"I suppose I can spare a few minutes to eat, my lord."
"Mistress Leems promised me a fine meal." He offered his arm and felt
the slight pressure of her hand. It was a most pleasant feeling that
radiated from her touch. Pleasant but dangerous. Her skirts whispered
as she moved along beside him. Soft. Seductive. He must remember
that beneath the softness was a woman who would stop at nothing to
return to her home.
"Is this to be another of your recipes?"
Brenna glanced at him from beneath lowered lashes.
"Would that please you?"
He shrugged, unwilling to admit his feelings.
"A soldier learns to eat anything, so long as it fills his stomach."
She couldn't hold back the laughter that bubbled up within her.
"Then I will ask Mistress Leems to cook you some of her gruel, my lord.
That should fill your stomach and remind you of the battles you are
missing."
A hint of laughter warmed his voice.
"Bite your tongue before she hears you."
"Hears what?" Richard looked up from his place at the table as they
entered.
"Your brother cares not for my fancy food. He cares only to satisfy
his hunger."
"Then it is as I thought," Richard said with a frown.
"Too many battles have left you daft." He watched as Morgan sat down
beside Brenna. It was obvious that his brother was taking great pains
not to touch her as he took his seat. But why? Could it be that
Morgan was afraid to touch this little creature? Afraid of the
feelings she stirred in him? The very thought made Richard stifle a
laugh.
"A good meal is like a beautiful woman," he said with a satisfied
smile.
"Both are meant to be savored, to satisfy not only the hunger of the
body, but of the soul as well."
Morgan felt a tremor as Richard's words touched a chord deep inside
him. There had been many women in his life. And yet none had ever
satisfied the hunger in his soul.
Choosing to ignore the knowing look on Richard's face, Morgan bellowed,
"You may begin serving, Mistress Leems."
"Aye, my lord." The housekeeper directed the servants, who carried in
trays of warm biscuits and steaming meats, as well as breads dripping
with honey and fruit conserves.
The men at the tables fell silent as they relished their meal. When
the others had finished, Morgan and Richard continued to eat until at
last, replete, they sat back.
"My compliments, Mistress Leems." Richard lifted a bite of roll,
dripping with fruit conserve, to his lips.
The housekeeper flushed with pleasure.
Morgan took a taste of the conserve. "Another of the Lady Brenna' s
suggestions?"
"Aye, my lord."
Richard studied the woman who sat quietly beside his brother.
"I, for one, am grateful, my lady. I look forward to your next
surprise."
Morgan glanced at her in time to see the smile that touched her lips.
And though he said nothing, he could not deny the fact that he, too,
was enjoying the subtle changes Brenna's presence had wrought at
Greystone Abbey. Each day she seemed to reveal another surprise.
As they left the refectory Brenna said, "If you will excuse me, my
lord, there is much to see to before Madeline arrives."
As she scurried off, with Mistress Leems and several servants in tow,
Morgan stared after her until he became aware of Richard's scrutiny
beside him.
"The lady seems in high spirits."
"Aye." Morgan frowned.
"It is good that Madeline is coming for a visit. Brenna has been
isolated for too long."
"Is that not precisely what the queen intended for your prisoner?"
Prisoner. Morgan was taken aback. He had begun to think of Brenna not
as a prisoner but a guest. A most delightful guest, if the truth be
told.
He warned himself not to be lulled into a false sense of security. The
guards must continue to maintain their vigil. Else the lady would
snatch the first opportunity to escape.
Morgan stood by his desk and watched as Brenna moved slowly through the
rose garden, snipping a bouquet of flowers. Two guards, their swords
at the ready, trailed discreetly behind her.
The ledgers he had been working on were forgotten as he leaned a hip
against the sill and studied her. Sunlight filtered through the
branches of the trees, dappling her with light and shadow. The breeze
caught her hair, and it streamed out behind her like a silken veil.
She lifted her head to watch the path of a hawk and he studied her in
profile. Her brow was smooth, unwrinkled. Her nose was small and
upturned. Her mouth was curved into a smile of pure delight.
Without a thought to what he was doing he
tossed the papers on the desk
and strode from the room. Moments later he was on the path leading to
the garden.
She rounded a bend, her arms filled with colorful blossoms. He felt
his throat go dry at the sight of her. God in heaven, she was so
lovely, she took his breath away.
She hesitated in midstride.
"Did you want something, my lord?"
Now that he was here, he had no idea what to say. He wanted nothing
more than the opportunity to look at her, to be with her.
"I thought you might need help carrying those."
"Thank you, my lord." If she was surprised at his sudden act of
kindness, she hid it well. When he held out his arms she filled them
with flowers. In the process his hands encountered the softness of her
breasts. She pulled back quickly, but not before he saw the sudden
flush on her cheeks.
"What will you do with the flowers?" He watched as she bent to cut a
perfect rose. His fingers still tingled from that brief encounter with
her soft flesh.
"I will fill the guest chambers with them." She buried her face in a
mass of blooms, then cut them and added them to the bouquet in his
arms.
"Their fragrance will perfume the air."
He breathed in the sweet, rich aroma and was reminded of her.
"But within a few days they will fade and die."
"Then," she murmured, pausing to snip another bloom, "I will dry the
petals and use them to line chests and wardrobes, my lord. And their
fragrance will live on as a reminder of this lovely summer day."
He watched her as she moved through the garden like a beautiful
butterfly. He would need no reminder of this day. He needed only to
close his eyes. Though he told himself that she was nothing more than
a pawn in a political game, he could not deny the fact that her image
was already becoming indelibly imprinted on his heart.
"Carriages arrive, my lady."
Brenna finished arranging the last of the flowers, then hurried down to
the courtyard where Morgan was already waiting.
As the carriages halted there was a flurry of activity. Trunks were
unlashed from the backs of the rigs. Cloaks were handed down to the
servants who had accompanied the queen and her party.
"Ah, Morgan," the queen said as she stepped from her carriage.
"Always, coming to Greystone Abbey is like coming home."
He caught her hand and led her past the servants who had lined up to
greet their queen. She smiled and offered a few words to each one.
Brenna noted the affection between these people and their monarch. They
were deeply moved by her simple act of kindness.
Nearly a dozen ladies emerged from carriages, as well as the titled
gentlemen who were at court in Richmond.
"Cherie." Madeline stepped from the carriage and flew into Brenna's
arms. After a quick hug she held Brenna a little away from her and
studied her with a critical eye.
"I have long wanted to visit this private retreat, which Morgan so
jealously guards. How are you bearing the loneliness of this place?"
"I am fine, as you can see."
It was true that there was a bloom on Brenna's cheeks that had not been
there at the queen's palace in Richmond.
Madeline arched an eyebrow, then turned to Morgan.
"And you, mon cher." She kissed his cheek.
"Have the two of you declared a truce?"
"At least while you are here."
"Beware, old friend," Charles said with a laugh, "or my wife may extend
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