Highland Heather

by Ruth Ryan Langan

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

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  "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