Highland Heather

by Ruth Ryan Langan

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?"