by Anne Herries
‘If your brothers have nothing to hide, they must be safe from whosoever concerns themselves in their business. They are safe from me. Do you imagine I would betray those who had helped me and saved my life?’ His eyes were on her now. ‘Will you come to meet me later this afternoon?’
‘Perhaps.’ Morwenna faltered. ‘This is where we part. You take the path to the right. I go straight ahead.’
‘Please come.’
‘Yes, if I can.’ She hesitated, then caught at his arm. ‘Take care, sir. I would not have harm come to you either. Michael…’
‘Are you afraid of him?’
‘He has a violent temper. He uses his fists and some of the men he works with are more violent.’ She shook her head. ‘I shall say no more. I have said too much already.’
‘You’ve told me nothing I had not already guessed, Morwenna. This part of the coast is well known for the smuggling that goes on here. Be at ease, your brothers’ secret is safe with me—though they run the risk of trial, imprisonment or death every time they bring in illicit cargo.’
‘I know it and I fear it will lead them to trouble. But I suspect there are other things, though I must say no more. Thank you for helping me.’ She shook her head and turned away, the sudden tears stinging her eyes as she fought to hold them back.
Climbing the steep path to her house, Morwenna’s throat was tight with emotion. She was torn between loyalty to her family and the strange new emotion that had implanted itself in her heart. She was even more certain that he was hiding something from her and her head told her that she must not meet him that afternoon, but something inside—a need so strong that she could not deny it—was telling her that she should go.
Adam walked on towards the village, his thoughts whirling in confusion. His mind was crowded with pictures that made no sense to him and yet the talk of smuggling had triggered a warning bell. He was sure that he had known the Morgan brothers were involved in the illegal carriage of goods that had paid no tax before Morwenna’s manner made it so obvious. Was it a part of the reason he had come here to Cornwall?
He tried to tear down the curtain in his mind, but it stubbornly remained, though sometimes now he saw a kaleidoscope of pictures that seemed so clear they must be real. He could see a large country house and a London house; they were both grand houses and he was not sure if he had lived there or merely worked there in his capacity as an artist. Again he’d seen the faces of an older woman and a younger lady—were they his mother and sister? The pictures made him restless, unhappy.
They were a part of his past, but something else burned behind the mist, something important. Whatever it was, it had begun to make him feel uncomfortable. He wished that he could understand the feelings that Morwenna aroused in him. There was a strong physical attraction, a need to touch her and kiss her—to make love to her. She was of good family and yet she had little prospect of marriage.
Would it be a crime to take her from her home and make her his mistress?
Yet something told him that there was a strong reason why he should not become involved with the beautiful Cornish girl. What was her brother’s secret—the one that troubled her?
And why should he feel that it might have something to do with his reason for coming to Cornwall? The memory was there just behind the curtain in his mind, but try as he might he could not tear it down.
He must give up all thought of leaving here until he knew why he had come. Some inner instinct was telling him that it was important he should stay, at least for a while …
‘What’s the matter with you?’ Bess looked at Morwenna as she moved about the kitchen, wiping surfaces she’d already cleaned. ‘Why can’t you settle? If you’re restless, girl, go for a walk.’
Morwenna had almost decided against meeting the stranger and yet every fibre in her body yearned for the sight of him, for the touch of his hand. She knew nothing about him and yet she knew everything she needed to know. His touch and his kisses made her feel more alive than she’d ever been in her life.
‘I’ll walk to the beach,’ she said and reached for her shawl, wrapping it about her shoulders as she went out into the garden. The wind had dropped a little, but there was a hint of rain in the air.
She hesitated at the gate, then, as if her feet had a will of their own, she began to climb upwards, away from the beach. Something was drawing her on, an inner compulsion that made her body tingle with anticipation and her mind sing with joy. It was as if she’d reached a decision, as if a part of her had let go of all the inhibitions and doubts. Her breath came faster as she saw him waiting near the spot where they’d met the previous night, her pulses pounding with excitement. Her heart knew why she had come, though her head told her it was foolish.
Suddenly, she was a woman going to meet her lover and she ran the last few steps towards him. He seemed to sense her mood for he came to meet her, catching her to him and holding her pressed against his body as their lips met in a hungry kiss. She could feel his strength, feel the hardness of his manhood pulsing against her as she melted into him, all caution lost. He was the man she’d longed for all her life, here, holding her, kissing her, and she knew with a bright-white clarity that if she withdrew now she would regret it for the rest of her life.
‘Where can we be alone?’ he murmured huskily.
‘I know of a place.’ She took his hand, led him across the plateau, away from the cliff face towards a small cottage. ‘This is where the lightkeeper used to live years ago. He would signal to ships at sea that it was dangerous to come in, but when he died no one wanted to live here and so it is empty.’
‘I saw it the other day, but thought it might belong to someone.’
‘It belongs to Michael, but he never uses it,’ she said. ‘We shall be out of the rain for I think it will rain very soon.’
‘You’re certain?’ he asked as she found the key under a rock and unlocked the door. ‘Your brother will not come here?’
‘He never does. Why should he? Besides, he will not be home for some days.’
Unlocking the door, she drew him inside and then locked it again, leaving the key in the door. He stood looking at her, then reached out and drew her against him once more.
‘I swear I’ll be good to you, Morwenna. When I go I’ll take you with me and find you a nice house to live where we can be together.’
She understood what he was saying. He would take care of her, be her protector, but marriage was not being suggested or considered. At the back of her mind a little voice was warning her not to be foolish, but she’d fought the voice before and she knew that this was what she wanted. It was her one chance of happiness. Something she would never find if she stayed at home with her brothers.
‘Don’t talk, kiss me,’ she urged, moving back into his arms. ‘I don’t want to think about anything but being with you …’
‘You are so beautiful, so passionate,’ he said in a voice husky with desire. ‘I want you more than I can say.’
Morwenna’s lips softened beneath his as he deepened his kiss, her mouth opening, taking him in as his tongue explored and tasted her. She let her fingers explore the back of his neck, stroking the tender flesh at his nape and feeling him shudder as the passion heightened between them. She was so hot, little thrills of anticipation racing through her as he suddenly reached down and lifted her into his arms. Morwenna clung to him as he carried her towards the bed, hardly noticing that it was made up with linens and a thick coverlet. Even when she caught the smell of lavender that she used in the sheets at home it did not register in her mind that the bed linen was fresh and aired rather than damp and musty.
‘You lovely, lovely, wild creature,’ he muttered close to her ear. His lips caressed her neck, nibbling at her playfully, and his tongue caressed the sensitive skin of her ear. ‘Are you virgin, Morwenna? I would not hurt you … if ’tis so, I will go slowly with you.’
‘I have lain with no other man,’ she murmured as his hand pulled her skirts up and he
began to stroke the inside of her thigh. ‘I have wanted no other lover.’
‘I am honoured to have been chosen to teach you,’ he murmured throatily. ‘Are you warm enough if I remove some of these clothes?’
‘I’m burning up,’ she murmured, laughing as she lifted her body to allow him to divest her of needless garments.
When he had her naked and quivering in his arms, he stared at her for so long that she trembled, feeling anxious that he did not like what he saw.
‘Do I not please you?’
‘You are more beautiful than I could have imagined. Let me get out of my clothes.’
He left her for a moment to strip away his own garments. Morwenna saw the body she’d bathed when he was in a fever, but now his maleness was more apparent, rampant and huge, making her gasp with wonder. As he bent over her, she reached out to stroke down the length of his strong back. His flesh was hot and silky, heating her as it touched, mingling with her own fire. He was so beautiful, so strong and male that she could scarcely breathe, fear of the unknown mixing with a need to discover the pleasure she instinctively knew he could give her. He began to stroke her with hands, lips and tongue, teasing, inviting, lavishing her with sensations she’d never known. Her breath came faster and faster as she touched him, wanting to feel his reactions through her fingers, wanting to appreciate his body as he was worshipping hers.
His kisses began at her lips, traced the line of her white throat to the little hollow at the base. His tongue circled it, teasing her as she arched and moaned. His hand was moving down her body, stroking, bringing her such sweet pleasure as he sought each breast, circling the nipples with his thumb, making her scream as her body became boneless, melting in the heat of passion. His tongue began where his hands had left off, leading her into a maelstrom of emotions so fierce and needy that she just fell apart in his arms, her will subjected to his and the quest for pleasure.
‘Yes,’ she whispered as his tongue sought the most sensitive areas of her femininity, rousing her to such overwhelming feeling that she gasped and lay quivering beneath his touch, her hips rising to meet him, urging him on to what she did not know.
‘You’re so hot and wet, my little wanton wench,’ he murmured. ‘You are ready for me, Morwenna?’
‘Yes, yes,’ she was begging him to come into her, welcoming the thrust of his huge maleness, even though it stretched and filled her and for one moment she felt a tearing pain that stilled her.
‘It will be better in a moment,’ he said as he stilled with her and stroked her, bringing her back to that fluid state where she floated in pleasure. ‘That’s right, sweeting, let yourself go, come to me, come with me, Morwenna.’
And she did, abandoning all thought, all reserve. She gave herself to him body and soul. Their bodies fit together as if it were ordained, moving in a sweet slow rhythm that made her nerves sing with sensation. It seemed for a while that the rain lashing down outside was a part of the wild passion that possessed them as they loved, moving towards a sudden and devastating climax that made her cry out and claw at his shoulders with her nails, while he shuddered and lay on her, slicked with sweat and satiated.
* * *
It was a long time afterwards before either of them spoke, and then his hand caressed the back of her neck.
‘You’re not sorry?’ he asked.
‘No, why should I be? It was beautiful.’
‘I shall take care of you. Remember that, my sweet love. Whatever happens in the future, I shall make sure you are safe.’
A little tingle at her nape warned Morwenna that something was wrong and yet she did not wish to think or know why there was such an odd note in his voice.
‘This bed has been made recently with fresh sheets,’ she said, suddenly realising. Her eyes travelled round the room, dwelling on the hearth. ‘Someone has laid a fire. I thought Michael had no use for the cottage.’
‘Perhaps one of your brothers brings his women here.’
‘Michael.’ A chilling coldness came over her and she realised what she had done. ‘Michael would not bring a woman here, but he might bring others …’ Men he wanted to hide from view? ‘We should leave. If they came here …’
‘No one is coming here on such an afternoon,’ he said, holding her to him. ‘Listen to the rain. The door is locked. They couldn’t get in—and if they tried, we’d make the bed and tell them we sought shelter from the rain.’
‘They would know.’
‘It won’t happen. Besides, I’m taking you with me when I go, Morwenna. You are wasted living here. In London you will be appreciated for your beauty. I shall give you clothes and a house of your own. We shall be together as often as I can get away.’
Morwenna snuggled closer to his body. She could taste the saltiness of his sweat on her lips and she liked the musk of his body. She didn’t want to think about what she’d done. Bess would be shocked. Her brothers would be furious with her for throwing away her honour—and Michael would kill the man who had taken it.
She wouldn’t tell anyone. It was her secret, a secret to have and to hold. Leaving Jacques would be a wrench, but Michael hardly ever noticed her, except when she served his supper. Bess would miss her and find the work hard, but they would have to hire another servant.
Morwenna wasn’t going to think about her family or the future. If she did, she might begin to doubt, to fear. She would hold tight to this moment, to the man lying so close to her. He had promised to take her with him and she believed he meant it. The die was cast. She would not worry about what might happen until it did happen.
‘You little witch,’ Adam murmured nuzzling against her neck. ‘I’m wanting you again already, but I think you may be too sore, because it was your first time. I won’t take you again, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves. There is a lot more to teach you about loving yet, my love.’
Morwenna smiled and reached up to bring his head down to hers, showing him what she had already learned.
‘Teach me everything,’ she invited. ‘I want to please you as you please me.’
‘My sweet, hot, Cornish wench,’ he said and stroked the length of her back. ‘It shall be my pleasure.’
‘Where have you been in this weather?’ Bess demanded as Morwenna entered the kitchen. ‘I’ve had all the work to do—and Jacques is back. He wanted to know where you were.’
‘I was caught in the rain and decided to shelter in the lightkeeper’s cottage,’ Morwenna said. ‘I’ll finish the supper now, Bess. I’m sorry if you’ve had too much to do.’
‘Well, you’d done most of the preparation,’ Bess muttered. ‘I was worried, that’s all. Thought you might have done something silly.’
‘Now what should I do?’ Morwenna asked, her heart beating madly. Could Bess see a difference in her? Would she know that she’d been in the arms of her lover?
Hugging the excitement and happiness to her as she set about preparing the supper, Morwenna felt a prick of guilt despite her pleasure. It would be hard for Bess when she left with her lover, but her brothers would either have to employ another servant or one of them must marry and bring his wife here.
‘Where have you been?’
Hearing Jacques’s voice, she turned to look at her younger brother. ‘I went for a walk on the cliffs. The storm was sudden and I sheltered in the cottage.’
‘You shouldn’t have done that, Morwenna. Michael won’t like you using it. Stay away from there—do you hear me?’
‘Why?’ Her breath caught as she saw his angry look. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were using it.’
‘I’m not, but I know Michael does—and he would be furious if he knew you had been there. It is supposed to be a secret. If you say anything, you could cause trouble for us all.’ Jacques glanced at Bess. ‘Neither of you should mention that place—especially to the militiamen.’
‘I wouldn’t betray you,’ Morwenna said, but couldn’t look at him. In a way she had betrayed him by taking her lover there.
‘You know nothing. Let’s keep it that way.’ Jacques softened his tone. ‘Captain Bird was asking for you, Morwenna. He told me he asked you to wed him but you turned him down. He was hinting that he knew something about Michael—something I don’t. Be careful what you say to him, he might turn nasty.’
‘I’m always careful,’ Morwenna said, her head coming up with a snap. ‘I wouldn’t marry that slimy toad if he were the last man to ask me. He didn’t so much ask me to marry him as try to seduce me. He disgusts me. He’s sly.’
‘Yes, he is. He isn’t what I should like for you, dear heart, but I doubt you’ll get any better offers here. It may be best for you to stay with Mother’s family. If things go wrong, it won’t be safe for any of us here.’
‘What do you mean?’ Morwenna’s heart raced. ‘Are you in trouble, Jacques?’
‘No, but there are things—’ He broke off and shook his head. ‘It’s best you don’t know. I think Michael is mixed up in something desperate. At first the smuggling was just a way of making money, but I think it led to other things and now. I’ll not tell you so do not ask, but if you won’t have Captain Bird you should consider going to our aunt’s.’
‘Well, perhaps I shall,’ she said. ‘Please do not worry about me. Are you involved in Michael’s schemes?’
‘To an extent. He does not tell me everything, but I’ve guessed at least a part of what he’s up to—and it could mean real trouble for us all. You would be safer gone, dearest.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘At least promise me you won’t use the cottage again. If Michael returned, he would be very angry—and you might become involved in something you ought not.’
‘Yes, of course I promise,’ Morwenna promised and bit her lip as she turned away. She’d promised to meet her lover there the next afternoon, but they could go somewhere else, maybe to a cave where the floor was sandy and dry.
It did not matter where they went, as long as they could be together and alone. She smiled inwardly, hugging her wonderful secret to herself. She had a lover and she was going to London with him very soon.
