Highland Heather

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  His thoughts were interrupted when the door was opened and Richard

  entered the refectory from the garden. Behind him was Adrianna,

  pushing his chair. Both of them had smiles on their flushed faces.

  And both seemed oblivious to the fact that their hair curled damply

  from the rain and that their clothes were plastered to their bodies.

  "Mon Dieu." Madeline got to her feet.

  "You will catch your death in those wet clothes."

  "Oui." Adrianna smiled at her.

  "Look." She held out the rose that Richard had given her.

  "Richard has grown a new strain of rose. This is the first bloom."

  Madeline stared at her shy little sister. Never before had she seen

  her look so radiant. Or so animated.

  "It is beautiful."

  "You will excuse our appearance," Richard said, bowing slightly to the

  queen.

  "It is raining outside."

  "Really? I had not noticed." Elizabeth swallowed the smile that

  touched her lips.

  "Not hard, I hope."

  "Just a fine mist. A lovely fine mist. The kind of rain one might

  enjoy walking in." He smiled at Adrianna, then seemed to catch

  himself.

  "We must change clothes."

  "Of course." Elizabeth lifted her hand in a regal gesture.

  "I would not want you to stay in those uncomfortable garments."

  When the two had left, everyone burst into gales of laughter.

  Elizabeth turned to Morgan.

  "It is as you said earlier, my friend.

  Everyone has gone mad. "

  Morgan stared after his brother and the French lass.

  "So it would seem."

  "Come," Elizabeth called to her ladies.

  "We will retire to the sitting chamber until the rain stops. Brenna,

  join us."

  Reluctantly Brenna joined the cluster of laughing, talking women. She

  would have rather stayed with Morgan. But the queen's request was a

  royal command. To refuse was unthinkable.

  When they were gone, Morgan sat alone, staring into the flames of the

  fire, deep in thought.

  Dinner with the queen was always a formal affair. Elizabeth and her

  companions had brought their most elegant gowns and spent hours

  preparing themselves for the evening.

  In their chambers, Morgan and Brenna were grateful for some time alone,

  away from the prying eyes of the others.

  While Brenna allowed Rosamunde to help her into her gown, she was

  achingly aware of the man who awaited her, just beyond the door in the

  sitting chamber.

  "Your hair, my lady."

  "It is fine, Rosamunde. Do not fuss so."

  "Aye, my lady."

  As the servant turned away, Brenna caught her hand.

  "I did not mean to be short with you." Her eyes danced with

  unconcealed ardor.

  "It is just that I..."

  "I understand, my lady. My Lord Grey awaits you just as

  impatiently."

  With a conspiratorial smile, the servant was gone.

  Without even taking time to study her reflection in the looking glass,

  Brenna opened the door. Morgan turned from the fireplace.

  Her gown was deep purple velvet, with a low neckline. The skirt fell

  in soft folds from the narrow waist to the tips of her pale kid

  slippers. The sleeves were inset with jewel- encrusted bands.

  As she walked closer Morgan reached inside his tunic and removed a

  velvet pouch. When he handed it to her, she lifted wide questioning

  eyes to him.

  "I noticed that you are the only lady here with no jewelry. I want you

  to have these, my lady."

  Brenna loosened the piece of velvet and caught her breath at the

  glittering jewels wrapped inside. There was a necklace of diamonds

  surrounding an amethyst as large as a hen's egg. The matching earrings

  were clusters of diamonds and amethyst that caught the light of the

  fire and seemed to glow with their own heat.

  "I cannot possibly accept these, Morgan."

  "But why?"

  She tried to hand the jewelry to him, but he refused to take it.

  "I am not yet your wife. It would not be right to accept such a

  splendid gift."

  "But it would make me happy."

  "And it would make me very uncomfortable."

  His voice grew soft.

  "Will you tell me why, Brenna?"

  She swallowed.

  "There are those who will think I--sold my favors for a handful of

  jewels."

  "I care not what others say. Nor should you."

  She studied the jewels in her hand.

  "You are too generous, Morgan.

  These must be worth at least a king's ransom. "

  "Or a Scots chieftain." He took the necklace from her hand and

  fastened it around her throat.

  "These were given to my father by a grateful King Henry. They were my

  mother's favorite pieces."

  Brenna touched a hand to the jewels at her throat.

  "Then I shall treasure them, my lord."

  "Not nearly as much as I treasure the woman who wears them."

  "But I would prefer not to wear them until after we are wed."

  "And I would prefer to see you wear them tonight."

  He brought his lips to her throat and felt the need rising. As she

  affixed the earrings he allowed his hands to move slowly along the

  slope of her shoulders.

  "How soft you are. How beautiful." He felt her shiver beneath his

  soft caress.

  "Would the queen mind if her host was late to sup?" he muttered

  thickly against her neck.

  Brenna laughed.

  "You cannot be serious."

  He turned her into his arms and stared down at her with a look that

  left her no doubt as to his meaning.

  "All day I have thought of nothing but you."

  He bent his head and nibbled at her throat. With a little sigh she

  arched her neck, loving the feel of his lips on her skin. "And tonight

  I fear the queen will linger below stairs long into the night. Unlike

  us, she has no reason to hurry to her bed."

  "Though the evening will be unbearably long, what can we do about

  it?"

  "This." His hands moved to the buttons of her gown.

  "Morgan." As he slid the gown from her shoulders, she stifled a

  gasp.

  "The queen will be furious if we keep her waiting."

  "Aye. But we will be so happy, love. And we will only be a little

  late."

  When he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed, she

  pressed her lips to his throat to stifle her laughter as they once more

  tumbled into a world of exquisite pleasure.

  "I am jealous," the queen said, staring at the jewels that adorned

  Brenna's throat and earlobes.

  "Your jewelry outshines even mine."

  "I am told they were a gift from your father." Selfconsciously Brenna

  touched a hand to her throat as she took a seat beside Morgan at the

  table.

  "Aye. And though I have heard about the splendid Grey jewels, I have

  never before had occasion to see them. They are magnificent. You must

  please Morgan very much," the queen added slyly.

  Brenna felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

  To cover her embarrassment, Morgan said, "Brenna did not wish to wear

&nb
sp; them tonight. She thought them too opulent for her taste. But I

  persuaded her to wear them for just this one night to please me. Then

  they can be put away until our betrothal."

  Across the table, Lord Windham studied Morgan and Brenna through

  narrow, hate-filled eyes. It was obvious that these two had become

  lovers. They flaunted their intimacy in his face. In the face of

  everyone in the room. How he hated Morgan Grey. All his life he had

  had everything he had ever wanted. The most beautiful women. The most

  exotic jewels. This fine estate. But the day was soon coming when

  Grey would see everything in his life turn to ashes.

  "I am disappointed by all this rain," the queen was saying. As they

  enjoyed a late supper, she stared out at the gloomy sky.

  "I had hoped to hunt."

  "The weather is the one thing in England that does not obey your

  command," Morgan said.

  "Her Majesty will find a way to bring even that errant subject to its

  knees," Charles said with a laugh.

  "Would that I could." Elizabeth tasted the tender young duckling and

  felt her mood lighten.

  "If we cannot hunt, then we must find another means of entertainment.

  Richard, did I not see a chess set in the library?"

  "Aye, Majesty. You did." Beside him, Adrianna sat quietly, content to

  have her hand held firmly in his. They thought that the table linens

  hid their hands from view. But everyone at the table was aware of the

  way they sat, shoulders brushing, gazes darting at one another.

  "Then I challenge you to a chess match after we sup."

  "I accept your challenge. But be prepared. Though I am your loyal

  subject, I will not deliberately let you win."

  "If you did, it would be no challenge. But I warn you, my handsome

  friend, I do not know how to lose."

  Richard's eyes crinkled with a smile.

  "Perhaps tonight you shall have your first lesson in losing,

  Majesty."

  "Rogue." The queen sipped her tea.

  "What of you, Madeline? What is your pleasure?"

  "You know my pleasure. And my weakness. Cards, Majesty."

  "Ah, yes. The gaming tables." Elizabeth glanced across the table

  toward the man who sat scowling. "Windham, are your wounds causing you

  pain?"

  "Nay, Majesty. They will quickly heal." He seemed to catch himself.

  He had been brooding about the weather. All of his plans had centered

  around a hunting accident. It would have been so easy to hide himself

  and aim an arrow that would bring down the throne of England. But what

  if the damnable rain continued and they never got a chance to hunt?

  "I

  would prefer cards to another night of dancing. "

  "And you, Cordell? Are you feeling well enough to join us for the

  games?"

  "I would not miss it, Majesty."

  "I fear Madeline's brother possesses the same weakness as my dear

  wife," Charles said with an exasperated sigh.

  "Neither can resist a game of cards."

  Windham brightened.

  "Then we shall play for money rather than just the challenge?"

  "But of course," Madeline replied.

  "What fun would it be to play without a bet?"

  Windham's evil smile grew. He loved nothing better than to gamble.

  Especially if he could find a way to sway the cards in his favor.

  When they had finished their meal, the queen stood and the others

  followed.

  "Perhaps this will be even more challenging than the hunt."

  Everyone in the company brightened. The rain had not ruined this trip

  to the country after all. There were still many ways to test one's

  skill.

  The cozy library was the perfect place for the queen and her party to

  relax. A cheery fire burned in the fireplace. Small tables had been

  set up for the various games to be played. A side table groaned with

  trays of sweets. Crystal decanters of wine and ale gleamed in the

  light of the fire.

  "Do you play cards, my lady?" Lord Windham asked Brenna.

  She backed away from his touch. Though he was aware of her reaction,

  his only indication was a tight-lipped smile.

  "Aye, my lord. But it has been a long time since I have tested my

  skill."

  "Splendid. Every game needs a sacrificial lamb."

  Morgan held a chair for Brenna at a small game table. Cordell,

  Madeline and Lord Windham took the other seats.

  "Beware, my lady," Morgan muttered loud enough for the others to

  hear.

  "There is talk of heavy wagers being made on the cards lately. Your

  cohorts at table do not play merely for sport."

  "Truly?" Brenna cast an innocent glance around the table.

  "You would not take advantage of a stranger in your midst, would

  you?"

  Madeline and her brother exchanged wicked chuckles.

  "Cherie. We are all friends here. What can be the harm of a friendly

  wager?"

  "What harm indeed?" Brenna picked up her cards.

  "You will need money for wagering," Morgan said. He placed a large sum

  of money in front of her, which the others studied with greedy

  pleasure.

  "How much is here, my lord?"

  "The equivalent of fifty gold sovereigns."

  "Fifty..." Brenna glanced around the table.

  "Did you not say this was to be a friendly wager?"

  "For fifty gold sovereigns, my lady, we will be very friendly," Cordell

  said with a laugh.

  Across the room, the queen and Richard set up their chess pieces and

  began their match. Brenna glanced at them and suppressed a smile.

  Adrianna sat beside Richard, drinking in every move he made. The

  queen, determined to win, studied her opponent with all the skill of a

  general.

  Some of the queen's ladies sat on cushions on the floor, listening to

  the haunting music of a lute played by the queen's musician.

  Servants scurried around with trays of goblets filled with ale and

  wine. In this relaxed atmosphere, even the queen enjoyed a second

  serving of ale.

  Like a good host, Morgan moved between the tables, watching both the

  chess match and the card games.

  "It appears that I have won," Brenna said excitedly as the last card

  was played.

  "You were indeed lucky," Cordell said with a little frown.

  "This time I wish to double my bet."

  Brenna scooped up the money she had won and matched his bet.

  "What about you, Madeline?"

  Grudgingly the Frenchwoman reached into her pocket for more money.

  Across the table, Lord Windham studied his cards, then agreed to bet.

  When the cards were played, Brenna won again.

  "I have never seen such luck with cards." Madeline turned to her

  husband, who stood watching the chess game.

  "Charles, I need..." She saw the disapproving frown on his face and

  bit back her words. She stood, scraping back her chair.

  "I have already overspent my limit."

  "So have I," Cordell said with a laugh.

  "But I cannot allow myself to be beaten by a lowly female." He and

  Lord Windham shared a laugh.

  "One more hand, my lady, and we shall see who ends up with all the


  gold."

  "Aye, Cordell.

  "Tis only fair that the lady give you a chance to win back your money

  lost." Windham's words taunted.

  "Shall we double the bet again?"

  "I would not advise it." Brenna glanced at the young Frenchman, hoping

  to discourage him.

  "But I insist." Cordell tossed in his last coins.

  Windham followed suit. Reluctantly Brenna did the same.

  The cards were dealt and Brenna scanned them quickly, then made the

  first move. The others followed. When the hand was over, she scooped

  up a pile of money from the center of the table. At her yelp of

  laughter everyone looked up.

  "Will you loan me the money to play again?" Cordell asked softly.

  Brenna gave him a pitying glance. "

  "Twould be folly for me to allow you to sink into debt for a mere

  game." "Ah, but it is not a game to me, my lady. I am compelled to

  try again. I know this time I can win. Will you loan me enough to at

  least make a wager?"

  Before she could respond, Lord Windham said, "I will loan you the

  money, my young friend."

  Cordell bowed his head.

  "I am most grateful."

  "As for you, my lady." Fingering a gold coin, Windham turned to

  Brenna.

  "Your luck must end. We will play another hand, if you are willing.

  This time the wager will be two hundred gold sovereigns."

  "Two hundred..." Brenna saw the greedy look in Windham's eyes. But

  she also saw the way Cordell studied her gold. The money was, after

  all, theirs before she won it. "Aye. You both deserve a chance to win

  back some of your gold."

  She watched as Windham dealt the cards.

  Morgan strolled across the room and stood behind Brenna as she played

  out the hand. When the last card was played, Brenna had again won.

  "I believe the wager was two hundred gold sovereigns, my lord."

  Brenna's eyes danced with laughter.

  "Aye."

  "Lord Windham's face was expressionless as he counted out the money.

  But his eyes mirrored his anger.

  "And two hundred for me," Cordell said.

  Lord Windham counted out another sum, then spoke curtly to Cordell.

  "I

  shall expect your payment on the morrow. "

  "Aye, my lord. I am grateful for your generosity. Though in this

  instance, I fear the lady's advice was sound. I should not have made

  the final wager."

  Morgan studied Brenna as she calmly collected the money.

  "I do not believe this is your first experience with gambling at cards,

  my lady."

  Brenna gave him a demure smile.

  "My father would have been shocked to learn that my sisters and I were

  taught the fine art of gambling by my old nurse, Mora, and our keeper

  of the door, Bancroft. Often, on a winter's eve, my sisters and I

  would sneak into the servants' quarters to while away an hour or two."

  Her smile grew.

  "Old Bancroft showed no mercy toward us, despite the fact that we were

  the MacAlpin's baims.

  The only way we could win was to best the old man. And best him we

  did. Eventually. "

  "Cordell," Charles called to his brother-in-law.

  "It would appear that you and Lord Windham have been taken in by this

  innocent-looking female."

  The others burst into gales of laughter, and as Morgan joined them, he

  felt a grudging respect for the woman who sat calmly counting her

  money. There was so much about her he did not know. But he would