Highland Heather

by Ruth Ryan Langan

second, then tugged on a cord. A few minutes later the serving wench

  stood at the door. Windham handed her the notes and several coins,

  then gave her detailed instructions on how the notes were to be

  delivered.

  He sat down at the table, filled his goblet and drank.

  "We should not have to wait too long." His eyes glittered with a

  feverish light.

  "Then everything that was once Morgan Grey's will be mine. Including

  you, my lady."

  The queen read the note that had been delivered, then gave a little cry

  of pleasure.

  "What a perfect ending to my visit at Greystone.

  Morgan says that the weather is improving. " She lifted her skirts and

  rushed to the window.

  "Aye.

  Though it is still quite misty, I can see the sun breaking just beyond

  those trees. " She tossed down the missive and turned to her ladies.

  "We must hurry and change into suitable clothing. We are going on a

  hunt."

  Morgan looked up from the ledgers as Mistress Leems entered.

  "There is a messenger here from the village, my lord."

  "Show him in."

  Morgan waited until both messenger and housekeeper had gone, then

  unsealed the scroll. Something fell from the scroll and dropped to the

  desk. An earring, Morgan realized as he picked it up. His eyes

  narrowed. An earring made of dazzling diamonds and amethysts.

  He read the words with a growing sense of revulsion. For long minutes

  he stared into the flames of the fire, reliving all the shame and pain

  and horror of his past. With a savage oath he tore the message into

  small pieces and dropped them one by one into the flames. Then he

  strode across the room and picked up his sword.

  This time they were not dealing with some pink-cheeked lad whose head

  was filled with noble thoughts. This time he would dispose of the lady

  himself. And her lover.

  As he raced from the room the words of the message rang in his mind.

  "I have once again seduced the woman you love. And this time she has

  brought me your treasure even before the wedding. I have enclosed

  proof of her loyalty."

  Through a haze of pain Brenna watched as Windham calmly continued

  eating his meal. Her head still swam from his blows. She struggled to

  clear her mind. Somehow she had fallen into a trap. He had said he

  was expecting her. But why? And what had the jewels to do with all of

  this?

  So many pieces to a puzzle. But until they were all in place, she was

  left with only questions. She must bide her time. And watch for a

  chance to escape.

  "So you came for the jewels?" He broke off a joint of fowl and began

  to eat.

  Brenna was instantly alert.

  "Aye."

  "Has Morgan missed them?" He washed down his food with a swallow of

  ale.

  Nay. "" So He grinned.

  "Your conscience has gotten the best of you."

  "Aye. I had no right to give away what was not mine."

  "And what about that which is yours to give?"

  His gaze roamed the bodice of her gown, making her feel soiled. She

  thought about the serving wench's description of Windham. His eyes

  were undressing her.

  She gauged the distance to the door. She would never make it. But if

  she were to find some way to distract him, she might be able to run to

  safety.

  "I am not loose with my favors." She struggled to hide the revulsion

  she felt at the thought of this man's touch.

  "And your own queen has decreed that I am to be betrothed to Morgan

  Grey."

  "You are not yet betrothed. Besides" -he smiled and dropped the linen

  napkin on his plate "--if Grey were dead, you would be free to wed

  another."

  Dead? Morgan? Was this what it was all about?

  Lord Windham scraped back his chair and strolled to the window. He

  watched as a horse and rider moved up the lane in a cloud of dust.

  There could be but one man who would whip his mount into such a frenzy.

  He felt a curl of excitement begin deep inside him.

  He heard the slight swishing of skirts and turned just in time to see

  Brenna racing toward the door.

  As her hand closed over the door pull, Windham caught her by the hair,

  yanking her head back with such force that tears stung her eyes. He

  slammed her against a wall, then pinned her there with both hands

  firmly against her shoulders. When her eyes could focus, she realized

  he was holding her knife, the knife Morgan had given her, to her

  throat.

  His face was inches from hers. His eyes blazed with fury.

  "Little fool. Did you think I would get this close to my goal and let

  it slip through my fingers?"

  "It is Morgan, isn't it?" Brenna felt herself very close to

  hysteria.

  "That is what you scheme. To somehow lure Morgan here and kill him."

  His shrill laugh sent a new wave of fear coursing along her spine.

  "Your lover is already here. Any minute now he will step up to meet

  his death. But Grey is only half of the plot. The other half is even

  better."

  Brenna felt the cold steel of the blade as it was pressed to her flesh.

  She was certain that nothing could cause her more pain than the thought

  of Morgan's death. But Windham's next words caused her to freeze in

  absolute terror.

  "When Grey is eliminated," he muttered, "the queen will be without her

  protector. And the future of England will be in my hands."

  Chapter Twenty-three

  1 he serving wench directed Morgan up the stairs, then watched as he

  took them three at a time. How she wished she could see the faces of

  the two lovers when this one burst upon them. His features were

  distorted with rage. His hand was already on the hilt of his sword.

  Morgan had been unable to think, to reason, on his journey from

  Greystone Abbey. The only thought that drummed in his mind was that

  this could not be happening again.

  Even now Morgan could not believe that he would find Brenna with

  Windham. Despite the message, despite the horse at the railing that he

  knew to be from his stables, he harbored the glimmer of hope that it

  was all some horrible mistake. The woman who had shared his bed, the

  woman he loved more than life itself, was incapable of the deed Windham

  had described. But in some small corner of his mind remained the

  knowledge that it had happened to him before. And it was happening to

  him again.

  He did not bother with the formality of knocking. With a booted foot

  against the door he sent it crashing inward. He strode inside, his

  sword drawn, then stopped in midstride.

  Windham stood across the room, holding Brenna captive in his arms.

  With one hand he held her arms behind her back. His other hand held a

  dagger to her throat. Morgan's own dagger.

  "You came so quickly. Grey." Windham's voice was strangely

  high-pitched with excitement.

  "I hardly had time to prepare." He laughed, high and shrill.

  "I'd hoped to have the lady lying in bed with me, just to add to your

  discomfort. But
alas the lady would not cooperate."

  Morgan's eyes narrowed as he studied the scene before him. From

  Brenna's disheveled appearance, he knew that she had put up a brave

  battle. But she would be no match against the cruel Windham. Still,

  it was enough to know that she was not a willing party to this.

  "Why are you here, Brenna?" Morgan's voice was calm. Too calm.

  Brenna recognized the terrible control he was exerting on his temper.

  "I persuaded the lady to pay Cordell's gambling debt."

  Morgan ignored Windham.

  "You have no money, Brenna."

  "Aye." Her voice was unnaturally subdued.

  "But Lord Windham said that unless the debt was paid by midnight, he

  would send Cordell to debtor's prison. I knew that would bring shame

  to his sisters. And so I agreed to allow Lord Windham to hold the

  jewels until Cordell could arrange to pay his debt." Her voice began

  to break, and she knew that the tears were starting. She quickly

  swallowed them back.

  "Today, when Richard told me about your first marriage, I knew that I

  had to retrieve the jewels before you discovered what I had done. And

  so I came here to plead my case. Alas, it was what Lord Windham had

  expected."

  "Let the lady go, Windham. This is between the two of us."

  "If I let her go, you will run me through with your sword." Windham

  gave an evil smile.

  "But unless you lay down your sword, I intend to run the lady through

  with this knife." He paused, seeing the fury in Morgan's eyes.

  "Which shall it be?"

  Without a word Morgan let his sword drop to the floor with a clatter.

  "That is very wise. Grey. We would not want the lady to end up like

  the last one."

  Morgan went very still. His eyes blazed.

  "How would you know how Catherine died unless..." His tone hardened.

  "It was you. God in heaven. All those years ago, it was you."

  At the stunned expression on Morgan's face, Windham said, "She did not

  fight as well as the Lady Brenna. Perhaps it was the baby that slowed

  her down. Or perhaps she had already lost her will to live. At any

  rate, I realized she would be of no further use to me. And I feared

  you would persuade her to reveal my name."

  Morgan's voice was barely more than a whisper.

  "She took her secret to the grave. Why would you risk the truth

  now?"

  "Because I have nothing to lose. You will never leave this room. My

  secret dies with you."

  "There were so many beautiful women, Windham. Why did you choose

  Catherine?"

  "Why did you? We were both young and eager to taste the nectar of all

  the flowers in the realm." His eyes narrowed.

  "But you always seemed to have everything I wanted. The finest estate.

  The most precious jewels. And then, the most beautiful woman I had

  ever seen. I could not let you win again. I vowed to have the woman,

  and to make you suffer."

  "But you are a wealthy man. You did not need my gold or jewels. Why

  did you force her to steal?"

  "She was a proud woman. The queen's own cousin. It pleased me to see

  her humbled like a beggar. And I knew how much it would shame you.

  Aye. You are a sore that has festered upon my soul since we were lads.

  "

  Brenna saw the pain etched on Morgan's face, and heard it in his

  tone.

  "Then the fight is between us." Morgan forced his tone to remain

  even.

  If it took every ounce of his willpower, he would keep Windham from

  exploding and perhaps harming Brenna.

  "Let the woman go. And I will face your wrath without a weapon."

  "I intend to keep the woman." Windham's tone grew sharper.

  "And as for you, you are no longer a threat to me. You are doomed."

  "Why this elaborate plot, Windham? Why now?" Morgan studied the

  distance between them. Somehow he had to get to Windham and wrestle

  the knife from him before he could use it on Brenna. For now, he would

  keep him talking.

  "If you wanted me dead, why have you gone to such trouble to bring me

  here? The deed could have just as easily been done at Greystone

  Abbey."

  "I tried that. And came upon the lady in your bed. Besides, I needed

  you away from your home today."

  Morgan tensed.

  "Why?"

  Windham gave another shrill laugh.

  "I need you as far away from the queen as possible."

  Morgan felt his blood freeze.

  "What has this to do with the queen?"

  "At this very minute Elizabeth is preparing herself for a hunt. But

  what she does not realize is that she will be the one hunted."

  "Elizabeth will not go to the forest without me."

  "She has already received a note from you telling her that you have

  been called away on urgent business, but that you want her to accompany

  me and the others."

  So his instincts had been correct. Morgan felt a rush of

  self-loathing. Though he had known of the queen's peril, he had

  allowed his own troubles to blind him.

  "You are the one who caused those mysterious accidents."

  "Accidents. Aye. And each time I have been thwarted in my efforts.

  But not this time. Today the gods smile upon me, Grey. Today the

  monarchy will be brought down by my hand." Windham chuckled, enjoying

  the feeling of importance.

  "The queen is dead. Long live the king."

  "Who has bought your loyalty, Windham?"

  Never before had Windham dared to reveal his allegiance. But with

  success so close at hand, he was feeling expansive.

  "Norfolk." He spoke the name like a deity.

  "He is the queen's own cousin. Surely he would not give the order for

  her murder."

  "He covets the throne. And Elizabeth gives no indication of abdicating

  or of dying of natural causes."

  "Then he is mad. The people will not rally round him when they learn

  what treachery he employed."

  "The people will never know. Elizabeth will die this day of a hunting

  accident. Her subjects will grieve. And Norfolk will. lead them in

  their mourning."

  Morgan watched the slight fluttering of the curtains at the window. If

  he were to fling himself at Windham, the momentum might carry them both

  through the open window. But if he were not quick enough, Windham

  would have time to cut Brenna. It was a calculated risk. There was a

  time when he would have easily risked it. But now, his love for Brenna

  changed everything. He was not certain he could risk her safety.

  "What will you gain from all this?"

  Windham tugged on Brenna's arms, causing her to gasp in pain.

  "A

  grateful new king will grant me any request. My first may be marriage

  to the lady who has stolen your heart. "

  "I would die first," Brenna hissed.

  "And I would tell everyone what you did this day."

  Morgan felt a little thrill at the way Brenna, even now, would stand up

  to this coward.

  "Careful, my lady. If you should become tiresome, I will see that your

  wish is granted." Windham went on as though he had not been

 
interrupted.

  "My second request will be your lands and titles, Grey."

  "My brother, Richard, is next in line to inherit. He would fight

  you."

  "After the queen's accident, Richard will have to suffer a fatal

  attack. Perhaps I will have him fall from his chair onto a well-placed

  knife."

  Morgan felt a fresh wave of hatred at this monster who calmly planned

  the deaths of all the people close to his heart. His hands clenched at

  his sides. There was no time left for strategy. He leaped forward,

  catching Brenna by the arm and casting her aside.

  Windham caught him with the sharp blade of his knife, tearing his flesh

  from shoulder to wrist.

  Before Morgan could pull back, Windham lunged forward.

  "Prepare to meet your maker, Grey."

  Brenna watched in horror as the knife plunged into Morgan's tunic above

  his heart. When Windham pulled it out, blood streamed from the gaping

  wound, soaking the front of Morgan's clothes.

  Morgan's face was ashen. But despite his wound, he struggled with

  Windham and brought him to the floor where the two men writhed and

  thrashed and fought for control of the knife.

  Brenna picked up Morgan's sword and turned just as Windham scooped up

  the knife and knelt over Morgan. As he moved his hands in a downward

  stroke, Brenna thrust the blade of the sword, aiming for Windham's

  heart. At the last moment he turned, taking the blade in his

  shoulder.

  With a shriek of pain Windham rolled away. Before Brenna could strike

  again Windham lifted the knife and again plunged it into Morgan's

  body.

  "Now, my lady," Windham said with a sneer, "I fear you must join your

  lover in death."

  He towered over her, lifting the knife for the fatal plunge. As the

  blade came crashing down, Brenna felt it tear through her flesh and

  scrape against bone. Pain engulfed her. The sword dropped from her

  hand and she crumpled to the floor.

  "I leave you to watch your lover's lifeblood spill on the floor of a

  lowly tavern. And yours with it. As for me, I have an appointment

  with destiny."

  From some distant part of her mind, Brenna heard his booted footsteps

  cross the room and descend the stairs.

  With a cry of pain and rage Brenna forced herself to crawl until she

  was lying across Morgan's still form. All the tears she had kept

  locked inside now spilled forth, mingling with the blood that spilled

  from his wounds.

  Thick, impenetrable clouds of mist shrouded the waters of the Thames.

  Morgan struggled to keep his head above water,

  but each time he came up for air, the mist closed in, choking him.

  When he struggled to the surface, shafts of pain crashed through him.

  His lungs ached, his arm, his shoulder. The pain was too great. He

  longed to slip once more beneath the waters and drift until his life

  slowly ebbed. In death there would be relief from the pain.

  "He heard Brenna's voice from a great distance. Brenna. His beloved

  Brenna. To see her face once more, to hear that voice, he would risk

  the pain. But only once more. Then he would give up the battle.

  Setting his teeth against the pain he struggled to the surface. Her

  voice was close now. He could hear her calling his name. His eyes

  opened and were assaulted by blinding lights. Hundreds of candles

  blazed, burning his eyes. He quickly blinked, then tried again. This

  time, though the light was too bright, it did not blind him. He moved

  his lips, but no words came out.

  "Morgan. Please, Morgan. You must try."