learn. His smile grew as the wonderful thought struck. Aye. He would
learn. They would have a lifetime to learn everything there was to
know about each other.
Brenna turned to Morgan.
"I believe this money is yours, my lord."
"You won it, love. It is yours to keep."
"I have no need of it." She thrust it into Morgan's hands.
Across the table. Lord Windham's lips curved into a smile as he
watched the woman who had charmed everyone. The magnificent jewels at
her ears and throat caught and reflected the light from dozens of
candles.
A plan was growing in his mind. A plan that could bring down the
Crown, Morgan Grey and everyone around him.
And in the process, Windham would wind up with the woman.
It was brilliant. And if handled correctly, he could not lose. The
Frenchman's weakness could prove to be the key to everything.
Chapter Twenty-one
i pi 1 we hundred gold sovereigns, or the equivalent. " Lord Windham
glanced out the window at the gray mist.
"Aye, my lord." Cordell felt a trickle of sweat beneath his tunic.
"As I said, I am a man of my word. I do intend to pay my debt. But if
you could give me a few days..."
"You agreed to payment on the morrow. It is a new day, my foolish
young man. And I expect payment, or I shall have to approach the queen
about" -Windham paused for dramatic effect "--debtor's prison."
"My lord, I am a guest in your country. My resources are at my home in
France."
"Your sister is married to a very wealthy man. I am certain that if
you went to her..."
"Nay." Cordell held up a hand to interrupt him.
"I cannot go to Madeline and Charles. As you know, my sister has run
up gambling debts of her own, many of them to you. I sense that
Charles is very unhappy with what he considers her weakness. Their
marriage is happy enough, but I think that this could prove to be too
much of a burden." Cordell paced the room, his hands locked behind his
back.
"If you would permit me to give you a note of indebtedness, I will be
happy to send you the funds by courier when I return to France within a
few days."
"Do you think me a fool?" Lord Windham's face was a sudden mask of
fury.
"You will pay your debt, my young man. Or you will pay in prison."
Cordell crumpled into a chair and buried his face in his hands.
"Please, my lord. I cannot bring this scandal to my family. My sister
has made a good life for herself here. She desperately loves her
husband."
"Love." Windham gave a cruel smile.
"It is such a fragile thing. It can so easily turn to hatred." His
voice frosted over.
"Have you no friends?"
"I am a stranger in your land."
Windham looked out the window, calculating how long before the young
man would sink into despair. In silky tones he said, as though
speaking to himself, "I suppose the tenderhearted young Scotswoman
might be willing to come to the aid of anyone facing such bleak
prospects as prison."
Cordell looked up.
"Do you think the Lady Brenna would settle my debt?"
"You saw the jewels our host has lavished upon her. And the ease with
which he gave her the money to gamble. Two hundred gold sovereigns
would be a paltry sum to her."
Cordell brightened.
"And the lady could be trusted to be-discreet."
"Aye." Windham watched the transformation in the Frenchman.
"The lady seems your best hope." He walked closer, pretending to be
deep in thought.
He saw the frown of distaste etched on Cordell's face at the thought of
baring his soul to the beautiful Brenna, and added hastily, "Best of
all, your family's good name will not be marred."
Cordell thought about Madeline, whose husband enjoyed a position of
such importance with the queen. She would be devastated if any scandal
touched him. And dear sweet Ad- ri anna The look in her eyes each time
she was with Richard Grey left no doubt. She was in love for the first
time in her life. She would be shattered if her brother's gambling
debts created a scandal.
"Do you really think the Lady Brenna would help me?"
Windham chose his words carefully. "The lady has sisters of her own.
If you are completely honest with her, and tell her your fears for your
sisters, I have no doubt that she will come to your aid."
Cordell nodded.
"I will speak with her immediately."
"I would wait" -- Windham touched his arm as he opened the door to his
chambers "--until you can speak with her privately. " Morgan Grey may
not be as sympathetic to your cause as the Lady Brenna. "
"Aye, my lord. I will choose my time carefully." When he was alone.
Lord Windham walked to the window and stared out at the prosperous
lands of the Grey estate. When the new king of England was crowned,
perhaps he would settle Greystone Abbey upon the one who had been
responsible for the downfall of Elizabeth.
It was all so easy. Everything in life was a gamble. But it helped if
one saw to it that one were dealt the right cards.
"Another day and still it rains." The queen greeted the others in the
refectory, then flounced to the windows to stare morosely at the leaden
sky.
In an attempt to tease her out of her dark mood, Richard said, "I could
beat Your Majesty at chess again today."
He sat beside Adrianna at the table. He was achingly aware of the
young lass who looked as fresh and sparkling as a spring day. Last
night, after all the others had retired to their chambers, she had sat
talking with him until almost dawn. She had even permitted him several
chaste kisses before hurrying off to her bed as the first pink streaks
had colored the sky.
"I have some news that should brighten your day, Majesty."
Morgan placed a scroll before her on the table.
"The people from the village have proclaimed this as a day of
festivities in your honor."
He saw the light that came into the queen's eyes. It was no secret
that Elizabeth loved all the pomp and ceremony that accompanied her
wherever she traveled. There were even those who whispered that the
reason the queen moved from palace to palace throughout the kingdom was
to meet the people. In every hamlet and village in which she passed
the citizens turned out to pay homage to their monarch. Their
outpouring of love delighted her. And though she often complained in
private about their long-winded orations, in public she was the
benevolent monarch.
"Have you responded?" Elizabeth looked up from the scroll.
"Nay, Majesty. A messenger just delivered this from the village
dignitaries. They await your decision."
"How delightful." She glanced around at her ladies.
"If we cannot hunt, at least we can join in the feasting and
celebration." With a flourish she affixed her signature to the scroll
and handed it to Morgan.
At the far end of the table, Lord Windham watched th
e queen's reaction
with great interest. He had come here for one reason--to find the
right moment to do the deed for which he had been recruited. There had
been a good chance that at some time during their hunt, he would find
the queen unescorted. After all, he reasoned, Morgan Grey could not
spend every minute at the queen's side, guarding her royal flank. It
would take but a minute to aim and shoot the arrow into her heart, then
to hide himself in the forest. No one would ever learn the identity of
her executioner. And the one who would ascend the throne would owe
Windham a great debt.
The weather was forcing him to change his plans. He would simply have
to find some other way to get the queen alone. Alone. Aye, that was
the problem. He must find a way to eliminate Morgan Grey. And, he
thought with a sense of elation, he had come up with the perfect
plan.
It was not riches alone that Windham coveted; it was the power. No
longer would Morgan Grey hold sway over the throne of England. It
would be Lord Windham to whom the new monarch would turn in times of
crisis. And it would be Windham who would be admired throughout the
land.
"The thought of a village feast does not please you. Lord Windham?"
He composed his features and chose his words carefully.
"I came here to Grey stone Abbey for one reason--to bask in the glow of
your radiance, Majesty. But of course I had hoped to join you in the
hunt."
"Aye. It is what I promised you." Elizabeth gave him a happy smile.
"But the people wish to show me how much they love me." She
shrugged.
"How can I deprive them of their pleasure?"
As always he ingratiated himself with the queen.
"I can understand their devotion. Majesty. It pleases me as it
pleases all your subjects to convey our love and devotion to our
beautiful queen."
From his place at the table Morgan listened to this exchange with a
sense of disgust. Could the queen not see through Windham's shallow
flattery?
He thought of Elizabeth's words at court. Even a woman as powerful as
the Queen of England desired honeyed words at times. Even if they
masked the truth.
"Then it is decided."
At the queen's nod, Morgan rang for Mistress Leems, who directed the
servants to begin serving the queen and her company.
"After the noon Angelus chimes we will leave for the village."
The villagers of Greystone Abbey were fiercely proud of their legacy of
devotion to the Crown. In preparation for the visit of their monarch,
the village square was hung with flags and buntings and banners
proclaiming this the queen's day. A feast had been prepared by the
village -women. Tables set with fine linen and crystal had been placed
in the village square beneath tents to protect them from the rain.
A gift was hurriedly prepared. A tax had been collected to fill a
wooden coffer with gold. When Morgan had heard, he'd insisted upon
adding to the gift, so that the villagers would not be forced to
sacrifice their meager funds. He had also donated several deer from
his larder to round out the feast.
When the carriages from Greystone Abbey arrived in the village, the
inhabitants crowded around for their first glimpse of the queen. Many
in the crowd held their children aloft. When Elizabeth stepped from
her fine carriage, arrayed in a royal velvet gown and matching cape
lined with ermine, and wearing a diamond tiara in her hair, there were
shouts and cries of joy. The church bells rang out, filling the air
with their happy sounds for nearly ten minutes.
Then, as the queen stood, proud and haughty before them, the assembled
crowd grew abruptly silent as they bowed and curtsied, awaiting her
benediction.
The queen studied the silent, respectful crowd. The men and women were
dressed in their finest clothes. The children, plump and pink-cheeked,
were on their best behavior as they stared unblinking at the red-haired
woman who looked every inch the queen.
"Majesty." The village elder was led forward, pale and trembling in
the presence of his queen.
"Words cannot express the love your people feel for you. Unworthy
though we be, we are grateful for your visit to our humble village."
Seeing the way his hands shook, the queen blessed him with her sweetest
smile.
"It is I who am grateful." Her voice rose above the crying babies and
the sighing of the wind in the trees.
"Grateful for the love and loyalty of good people like you."
As she began to move among the villagers, Morgan stayed close by her
side. His men, having been carefully instructed, mingled with the
people, watching to see that no one who came near the queen could be
concealing a weapon. Though Morgan knew the perils, he had been
unwilling to deny his villagers this chance to see their ruler. Yet he
also knew that he would not relax his guard until this day was ended,
and the queen was safely at his home.
The village elder led the queen to the green, where the feast awaited
her. As she took her place at the head of the table, Elizabeth knew
from experience that she would have to endure endless speeches before
she was allowed to enjoy the food. Lord Quigley sat alone, already
tasting every morsel that the queen would be permitted to eat.
When everyone had taken their places at the rows of crude tables, the
lord mayor of the village bowed low before the queen and began his
prepared speech. His voice quavered in a most unbecoming fashion. His
knees trembled. His beard shook. But though he appeared terrified, he
continued speaking until the queen was forced to stifle a yawn.
After the lord mayor came the sheriff, who proved to be a fine
orator.
So fine that he talked until he spied the village elder's head nodding.
Reluctantly he turned to the village recorder, who would also make a
speech before presenting the queen with the village gift.
When at last Elizabeth was presented with the coffer of gold, she stood
regally and declared, "I am most grateful. But all that I have ever
desired were the hearts and true allegiance of my good people."
Then, handing the gift to Morgan, she asked that the feasting begin.
Seated beside her, Morgan swallowed his laughter. Despite all her
denials, he noted, the queen did not return the gift of gold. Nor
would she when the feasting was done. She may desire their hearts and
allegiance, but she enjoyed their gold as well.
When the last morsel had been consumed, the queen and her guests were
treated to a great pageant. Thespians performed a play in which the
queen was likened to the Greek gods. Musicians from the village played
while young maidens, clad in their finest gowns, performed ancient
dances. And finally, the brightest young lad was brought forth to
recite a poem praising the queen's beauty and integrity.
When darkness fell there were fireworks. And when at last the queen
and her company were assisted into
their carriages, the church bells
tolled, filling the night air with the sound of celebration.
"What think you, Morgan?" the queen asked as the carriage rolled along
the road toward Greystone Abbey.
"I think. Majesty, that the villagers will speak of this for
generations to come. Mothers will tell their daughters, and they will
speak of it proudly to their children, until this grand visit of yours
has become a legend."
"Aye," Brenna said with a sigh.
"Tis the stuff of legends, Majesty.
Never have I seen such an outpouring of love. "
The queen leaned her head back and closed her eyes. What need had she
of a consort? This love was what fed her soul. With love like this,
how could she have ever believed for a moment that her life was in any
danger?
Brenna awoke from a deep sleep and listened to the insistent tapping on
the door of the sitting chamber. For a moment a chill passed through
her as she was reminded of her nighttime attack.
The tapping continued. She chose to ignore the sound. If one of the
servants desired entrance, they would have to come back in the
morning.
Morgan lay against her back, his arms wrapped protectively around
her.
Their legs were tangled in the bed linens. They had spent a long,
leisurely night of lovemaking. Her body still hummed from his
caresses.
The tapping sounded again. Her lids opened. Judging by the darkness
of the room, Brenna knew that it would be hours until dawn. Who would
seek her out at such a time? Certainly not her attacker.
Her heart skipped a beat. Perhaps Madeline. Or an emissary from the
queen. Could one of them be ill?
She slipped soundlessly from bed and snatched up her dagger from the
bedside table. She slipped it into her waistband, then pulled a shawl
around her shoulders and padded barefoot to the other room.
When she pulled open the door she was stunned to find Cordell standing
with his hand poised in the air, about to knock again.
"My lady," he whispered, "I must speak with you."
For a moment she could only stare at him. Then, as she began to close
the door she whispered, "On the morrow..."
"Nay." He caught the door, holding it open.
"This cannot wait until morning."
Brenna's eyes widened.
"Is it Madeline? Or Adrianna?"
"Nay, my lady. The problem is mine. Will you come with me below
stairs where we may speak without detection?"
Brenna hesitated. But the imploring look on his face, and the urgency
of his tone, persuaded her. She closed the door behind her and walked
beside him until they reached the deserted great room.
Brenna crossed the room to stand before the fireplace. Even though the
fire had long ago burned down, the hot coals chased away the chill.
She turned.
"What is so urgent, Cordell, that you would rout me from my bed at this
late hour?"
"It is my gambling debt to Lord Windham," he began.
"What of it?"
A chilling voice sounded from the far side of the room.
"He promised payment on this day," Windham said, stepping from the
shadows.
Brenna felt the ice curl along her spine. Her hand instinctively moved
to the hilt of her dagger.
"It will soon be the dawn of another day, and still this Frenchman has
not paid his debt. Unless this thing is settled now, I will be forced
to go to the queen and demand that Cordell be confined to debtor's
prison."
"That would seem a harsh measure, my lord." Brenna glanced from
Windham to Cordell. "What has this to do with me?"
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