by Anne Herries
Besides, her illness had taught him something and he knew that he could not live his life without her. He did not wish to.
‘Your letter is from Rupert?’ Jacques said, looking up from his own. ‘He asks that I take you to Melford Towers and promises that he will follow as soon as he can.’
‘I do not mind going there,’ Morwenna told him. Rupert’s letter was puzzling. He spoke warmly of the future, but made no mention of his forthcoming marriage. Surely he did not imagine he could hide it from her? ‘I loved that house when we stayed there on our way to London. I shall be happy to see it again—and the people.’
‘No, no, it is not to his old house that I am bidden to escort you, Morwenna. That is in the Marches—the castle is not far from Worcester and I believe it to be his principle seat.’
‘Why should he ask us to await him there?’ Morwenna stared at him in surprise. ‘I thought it was his mother’s home when she was in the country. He will certainly take his wife there if he is to be married.’
‘I know nothing of that,’ her brother said and frowned, ‘but his instructions are clear. He is delayed by important business and will join us at the castle as soon as he may.’
‘I am not sure I wish to go there.’ Morwenna shivered. ‘His old home is beautiful and I felt comfortable there—but the castle …’ She moved away from him to gaze out of the window. ‘What can be his purpose?’
A feeling of unease came over her and she was suddenly restless. Despite the bitter cold the sun was shining and she had a sudden desire to make the most of her last day in London.
‘Will you take me out, Jacques? I should like to visit Cheapside. I would buy a gift for Mistress Janet and the Footman John—and something for Bess. I could give her nothing when I left and I have some money in my purse—Rupert wanted me to feel independent when I went shopping.’
‘Yes, of course, if you wish it.’ He smiled at her. ‘We shall make a day of it and perhaps visit the theatre this evening.’
‘Yes, I would like that of all things. Rupert took me to see one of Master Shakespeare’s plays and I did laugh, for it was vastly amusing.’
‘Put on your cloak and we shall go out whilst the sun shines.’
‘This is most enjoyable,’ Jacques said as he picked up another of Morwenna’s purchases and prepared to leave the shop just as a woman came bustling through from the back. ‘I do not know when I have known more pleasure in a day.’
‘Why, bless my soul,’ the shopkeeper’s wife exclaimed. ‘If it is not Mistress Morwenna—and Master Jacques. Have you come to visit me, my dears?’
Morwenna stared at her and then laughed for sheer pleasure. ‘Sarah—Mistress Harding. How are you—and your daughter Jane?’
‘We are very well thanks to you.’ Sarah’s face was bathed in smiles. ‘You have been buying cloth from us? Had you asked for me I would have given you a better price.’
‘We are well satisfied with our purchase of your beautiful materials. I have bought Bess some good wool for a new gown.’
‘Then I shall give her some ribbon to dress it,’ Sarah said. ‘What colour did you choose?’
‘The dark blue, but …’
Sarah would not be gainsaid. She insisted on cutting off a length of her best silk ribbon and presenting it as a gift for Bess.
‘I owe you so much more and you would never take a penny for yourself, Morwenna. I am glad to see you prosperous and well. Had it not been so, I would have given you a home here—and work if you cared for it. My husband would welcome you to our family. If he were here he would give you half of what he owns, for he knows he would be alone and a widower had you not saved us from the sea.’
‘I helped you recover. It was not so very much,’ Morwenna protested, her cheeks warm as Sarah told all her customers how brave and generous the Morgans had been to her when she was pulled from the sea half-dead.
After that she insisted on taking them into her back parlour, where they were given mugs of her special spiced ale, cakes and sweetmeats made with minced beef and fruit, piggy pies and a dish of curds with wine.
Most of the day had fled before she could be parted from them, and when her husband came home he insisted on giving Morwenna a length of his finest silk in a beautiful green and some lace to trim it.
Morwenna’s protests were ignored and when they were finally allowed to leave, Jacques could hardly manage all the parcels. He hired a sedan chair to carry Morwenna through the streets and another to carry their parcels, walking beside them. Because the light was fading it was as well that he was wearing a small sword, for there were sometimes rogues who would attack the unwary.
‘I think we shall not see the first act,’ Morwenna said as the chairs deposited them outside her house. ‘We must leave our parcels and then hurry to the boats, else we shall miss the farce and ‘tis a comedy of errors that I like the most.’
The door was opened before they could knock and John the footman greeted them with a sombre expression and a look in his eyes that seemed to warn of trouble.
‘Is something wrong, John?’ Morwenna asked, sensing his unease. ‘We are late back, for we met friends and stayed to dine with them.’
‘There is a visitor in the parlour, mistress. She came three hours ago and will not leave until she has spoken with you.’
‘A visitor?’ Morwenna felt a sliver of ice slide down her spine. ‘I was not expecting anyone.’
‘‘Tis the Dowager Marchioness, mistress.’
‘Rupert’s mother?’ Why was she here? Morwenna threw an agonised look at her brother. ‘What can she want?’
‘I have no idea. I shall come with you, dear heart. She cannot harm you.’
‘No, stay here unless I call for you.’
Morwenna had taken off her cloak. She smoothed the creases from her silk gown, drawing a deep breath as she went through to the large parlour. A woman was sitting by the fire. She seemed intent on its flames and did not turn her head as Morwenna approached.
‘You wished to see me, ma’am?’
At that the Dowager Marchioness turned her head. Her eyes were so like Rupert’s that Morwenna felt a shock of surprise, but then she saw the sour line of the other woman’s mouth and knew the likeness went no further.
As the woman rose slowly to her feet, her manner was haughty in the extreme as she looked Morwenna over, her gaze intent. For a long moment she merely stared and said nothing, then her mouth went hard.
‘I see why he is bewitched by you. That hair is enough to rob a man of his wits. You are beautiful and you have the appearance of a lady—but you are a whore. Have you been spending my son’s money while out with another lover?’
‘I have been shopping with my brother. Rupert gave me money to spend and I did indeed spend some shillings, but I also visited friends.’
‘I have no wish to hear your excuses, mistress. A whore is of little importance in the scheme of things here. My son may do as he pleases for he is a man, but I wished to make sure that you understood you can never be more to him than you are now.’
‘I beg your pardon. I do not understand you, ma’am.’
‘I thought I had made myself clear. You may be Rupert’s mistress, but you will never be his wife while I have breath in my body. He has been betrothed to the daughter of a Duke and must marry her or bring shame on his family. Would you have him ruin himself for your sake?’
‘Why should he? Forgive me, you speak in riddles. I would bring no shame on Rupert. I think my family hath more cause to quarrel with me over honour than you, my lady.’
‘He cannot flaunt a mistress so openly if he is to marry well. He risks his position at court, a good marriage and his honour if he carries on in this fashion. He is betrothed and cannot in honour break his word to the lady. If you cared for him at all, you would stand back and allow him to marry and hold his position in society.’
‘If Rupert tells me he wishes to marry another lady, I shall of course stand back. I should not dream of ruining his
hopes or hers.’
‘Indeed? I had heard that you were to go down to the castle. You must know that it would be too shocking. If rumours of your liaison reached the King, Rupert would lose any chance of a good position at court.’
‘I did not know that he desired one.’
‘He was instrumental in bringing a nest of traitors to account. I am told on the best authority that he was due to be honoured with the Order of the Garter and a position close to his Majesty, but if he continues to associate with the sister of known rogues.’
‘Forgive me, ma’am. I think I have heard enough,’ Morwenna said, lifting her head proudly. ‘I should be grateful if you will leave my house.’
‘Your house, indeed? You give yourself airs, Mistress Morgan. This house belongs to my son and I have a perfect right to be here. It is you who should leave before he returns.’
‘Rupert put this house into my name because he loves me and wished to provide for me should I bear his children.’ She saw the look of shock in the Dowager Marchioness’s face and smiled. ‘I do not know for certain yet, but it may be that I am to have your grandson, ma’am. Would you deny him the right to be his father’s heir? If Rupert wishes to marry me, I shall certainly say yes …’
‘You wicked, wicked girl!’ The Dowager Marchioness drew herself to her full height. ‘I shall not stay here a moment longer to be so insulted. My son may have fallen for your charms, but I can see you for the scheming hussy you are.’
Giving a scream of rage, she rushed at Morwenna, bringing her arm back to strike. The enraged Dowager Marchioness delivered one stinging blow to Morwenna’s face before Jacques flung himself at her and dragged her off. She screamed and struggled and it took both Jacques and the servant John to hold her.
‘Unhand me, you rogues,’ the woman cried. ‘How dare you lay hands on me? I shall have you all whipped and thrown into prison, where you will rot until you die.’
‘Take yourself off where you belong,’ Jacques yelled, beside himself with fury. ‘This is my sister’s house as she claims and you are not welcome here, madam.’
‘Leave her. Make her go away, but do not harm her,’ Morwenna said, holding a hand to her cheek. ‘Excuse me, I must leave.’
The tears were close as she left the parlour and ran upstairs to her room. If the Dowager Marchioness spoke the truth, she would not be able to stay with Rupert, even though she loved him and he swore he loved her.
How could he speak of love and then arrange a marriage with the daughter of a duke? Jacques had spoken of the possibility, but she had not believed him.
Could she believe the Dowager Marchioness?
‘Morwenna, are you there?’ Jacques’s knock at the door had her hastily wiping the tears from her cheeks. ‘May I come in, please?’
‘Yes, of course.’
Morwenna raised her head proudly, preparing to meet her brother’s eyes.
Jacques looked at her gravely. ‘Are you all right, dearest? She did not harm you?’
‘She slapped me, but her words inflicted the greatest harm. She speaks of Rupert’s marriage as inevitable, yet surely he would have told me if it were true?’
‘She is a wicked woman to attack you as she did.’
‘I pushed her too far. She thought Rupert meant to marry me and it drove her wild with hate. Had I told her that he had no such intention …’ Morwenna held back a sob. ‘I brought it on myself. It was my foolish pride.’
‘No, you must not blame yourself,’ Jacques said. ‘I think her eaten up with some hatred that is older than your relationship with Rupert. She spoke wildly as her footman led her to the sedan chair. He told me she often loses her temper and sometimes throws objects at her servants. I think she is a selfish, bad-tempered woman.’
‘She hates me, but I think she hates Rupert, too,’ Morwenna said, feeling the tears burning behind her eyes. ‘What am I to do, Jacques? I cannot remain his mistress if he truly intends to marry.’
‘He took your innocence. He owes you marriage.’
‘No, Jacques. He owes me nothing.’
‘Morwenna.’
Morwenna closed her eyes. ‘Please, I should like to be alone for a while. I must think.’
‘You should ignore her spite. We must do as Rupert asked and go to the castle to wait for him.’
‘Please, Jacques. Let me rest. I need to think.’
‘As you wish, dearest. You know I want only your happiness.’
As the door closed behind him and her maid, the tears slipped from her eyes. What was she going to do? If she went home to Cornwall, Rupert would follow.
Chapter Fourteen
‘I am glad we had this meeting,’ the Duke said and offered his hand. ‘Your mother was most insistent that we draw up a contract, but I was reluctant to sign until I heard from you. Indeed, I should not have done so. My daughter is precious to me and I would not have her unhappy in her marriage.’
‘Your daughter is a lovely girl, sir. Had I no prior attachments, I should have been happy with the match.’
‘I thank you for your honesty.’ The Duke shook his head. ‘Mothers are apt to be too eager at times. You must prevail upon the dear lady to be more cautious, Melford.’
‘I shall make certain of it,’ Rupert replied. ‘I am glad that we part as friends, sir. I should not like to have offended you in this matter.’
‘No offence given. I have suffered from a mother’s ambitions in the past. I wish you well and hope to see you and your wife at court.’
‘We shall come when we can,’ Rupert replied, smiled and took his leave.
He was thoughtful as he left the ancient castle, mounted his horse and rode away with a handful of men at his back. He must ride hard for Melford Towers, for Morwenna would be waiting for him and she might be anxious as to the reason she had been sent there.
It was as he was leaving the Duke’s house that a servant came up to him, bowing deeply as he offered a sealed letter. Rupert glanced at the hand and knew it for his sister’s. Why should May have written to him here?
Breaking the seal, he scanned the few lines and frowned. His sister begged him to come to her before he left for the castle. It would mean more delay and he was anxious to speak with Morwenna, make certain she understood that he intended to wed her. He ought to have made things plainer in his letter to her, but had wanted to explain his feelings in person—the reason he’d hesitated for so long.
Surely Morwenna would understand when she knew his past?
Jacques had gone to hire a coach and horses for their journey. Morwenna knew she must use this opportunity to escape from him and Rupert. She loved Rupert with all her heart, too much to ruin his chances of preferment at court.
The Dowager Marchioness had told her that she would bring shame on him. If he continued to flaunt her as his mistress he would not be welcomed at court and his friends would turn against him. Besides, he was betrothed to a young woman and he could not in honour break the contract.
Because she loved him Morwenna must walk away from Rupert. She suspected that she might be carrying his child and if Rupert knew she was sure he would not give her up—indeed, he might break his vows to his betrothed and that would ruin him.
The Dowager Marchioness was spiteful, but what she said was true. If Morwenna continued as his mistress, she would ruin him and it would break her heart to know he was wed to another.
Better to run away now than cause more pain for them both. She must hide until Rupert was wed and ceased to look for her.
‘Mother did what? How dared she?’ Rupert fumed, as May finished speaking. ‘She threatened Morwenna and told her I was betrothed when she knew it was a lie?’
‘She was so angry because Morwenna defied her,’ May said. ‘I think she told her that association with her would ruin you and she slapped her, as she slapped me for trying to tell her your marriage was not her business.’
‘I am sorry for that,’ Rupert said. ‘I have allowed her to have charge of her daughter, but you
are my sister and you will not have to suffer her unkindness again. I shall send you to Melford Hall and you may reside there until you marry.’
‘Mother insisted that I must marry a man of her choosing, but will you let me choose for myself, Rupert?’
‘Of course. I shall introduce you to some gentlemen I think may suit you, dearest, but you shall not be forced.’
‘Thank you.’ May reached up to kiss his cheek. ‘You are a good brother and you will be a good husband. I wish you and Morwenna much happiness.’
‘Thank you.’ He looked into her face. ‘I shall tell Mother that you will live under my protection in future. If she wishes to see either of us, she must mend her ways and apologise to my wife—and to you. You will stay here until I can send you to Melford Hall with an escort.’
‘Yes, of course.’ May shuddered. ‘Make it soon, Rupert. She is angry all the time and I do not think I can stay here for much longer.’
‘First I must speak with Morwenna. She is brave, but even she must have been in such distress over this.’ A bleak look came to his eyes. ‘I have not treated her as I ought. I can only hope that she will forgive me—and in time our mother.’
‘You allowed her to run away again? And you think she may be with child?’ Rupert stared at Jacques in dismay. ‘May God forgive me for what I have brought her to. I am to blame for all she has suffered.’
‘No, how could you be? It was not your fault that Michael kidnapped her—as for your mother, I do not think she harmed Morwenna physically. Her letter to me said that she did not wish to shame and ruin you. My sister believes you are to marry a Duke’s daughter.’
‘It was untrue. I shall not marry another. Morwenna is the woman I would have as my wife. I intend to find her and …’
‘Supposing she is too proud to wed you now?’
‘You know where she is, don’t you?’ Rupert was suddenly alert. ‘Tell me, damn you! I’ll beat it out of you if I have to. I must know where she is.’
‘I am not certain, but I believe she is with friends who care for her.’ Jacques gave him a twisted smile. ‘I am not sure that I should tell you.’
