Feisty Heroines Romance Collection of Shorts

by D. F. Jones

  “He’s here with his father as an emissary from Scotland to celebrate little Prince Edward’s birth.” Morgan knew Bennett had spoken but didn’t take her gaze from Gray. She couldn’t.

  An emissary from his king? For a moment she thought maybe he returned to see her. Foolish girl.

  “Gray, how good to see you. I didn’t see your father. Where is Alasdair.” She looked toward the dais. His father stood with her father deep in discussion.

  Gray reached out, took her hand, raised it to his lips, and tenderly kissed her knuckles.

  She stifled a gasp at the intimate gesture. Her hand had been kissed and slobbered over by many men in the past year. None had ever left her breathless and wanting more.

  How did he do that?

  Chapter 3

  Reluctantly, Gray released Morgan’s hand. He had watched her enter the room sometime after her sister and hoped to speak to her. It had been three years since they last saw each other and that ended badly.

  “Why can’t you take me with you?”

  “The outpost is more a barracks than a castle. I’ll be on patrol for days, possibly weeks at a time. Skye is deep in the Highlands. The people there are skeptical at best. It’s too dangerous to leave you by yourself. Your brothers agree it’s not a healthy situation.” He reached for the green gem in his sporran. It was a token of his devotion to her.

  “This is not for them to decide.” Morgan stopped pacing the small area in the ruins and stared out at the valley. “I must have misunderstood your intentions.”

  A cold shiver went up Gray’s spine as the woman he loved closed herself off from him. He dropped the token back into the sack.

  “How can you doubt my desire for you? My duty will be over in two years.” He put his hands on her shoulders to soothe her, but she shrugged them off. Without another word, Morgan started back to the manor and left him standing at their spot, by himself.

  He searched for her the following morning, but she did not break her fast with the family. His father and her brothers helped him pack the horses. Morgan was still nowhere in sight. Even her brothers thought it strange.

  Gray stalled as long as possible. Finally, he mounted and rode out of the courtyard toward the town wall. The troop crossed the field and headed for the trees. Before he entered the forest, he glanced behind and spotted her standing on the wall. He turned, with his eyes forward and kept on riding.

  Now, three years later, he was in King Edward’s court, standing with old friends.

  The talk of Morgan’s and Mary-Margaret’s beauty was not an exaggeration. He’d studied Morgan as Westervelt paraded her around the room. Morgan was strong, confident, opinionated, and capable and would make a highlander a good wife.

  Now he held her hand and kissed her knuckles. Morgan gazed up at him. The noise and gaiety of the room faded. Morgan was the center of his world.

  Gray offered her his arm. “Walk with me.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek at his demand.

  Cameron coughed.

  “Shall we take a turn about the room?” he asked more gently.

  “Father would like that,” Cameron assured her and faced Gray. “You’ll excuse us.”

  Cameron let out a chuckle, grabbed Bennett’s arm and pulled his brother away.

  Her brother dared to wink at her before he was lost in the crowd. Morgan wanted to throttle him. She avoided Gray’s gaze and placed her hand on his arm.

  “How is your father and the rest of your family?” She nodded at the same people who acknowledged her earlier on Westervelt’s arm.

  “They are well.”

  “King Alexander’s champion. I’m not surprised. You always accomplished what you set out to...” She hesitated, blinking in bafflement.

  “What’s wrong?” Gray’s tone was even and controlled. He moved close to her and scoured the room searching out the threat.

  “Several people are turning their backs to us.”

  “Perhaps I should return you to your brothers. I wouldn’t--”

  “Absolutely not.” She raised her head and moved a bit closer to him. “Perhaps we should circle the room twice and let them see us enjoying each other’s company.”

  “You are my champion.” His voice was filled with a gentle softness.

  She dipped her head at his comment as they came to the garden doors.

  “Would you mind if we went into the garden?” Morgan asked. “I find the air a bit oppressive.”

  He opened the door and she stepped out onto the porch.

  “You’ve served your king well. Emissary. An important position.” She made light conversation, pretending to be disinterested as they strolled to the railing.

  Rowland, his man Fulko, and three others walked out of the room and stood by the doors. Each holding tankards, beer sloshing over the side.

  “What is a barbarian doing at Edward’s court? Standing with the king as if he were due an audience.” Rowland swayed and drained his tankard.

  “Keep your voice down, Rowland.” Fulko glanced at her and Gray. He shoved Rowland to make his point, sending more beer onto the flagstones.

  “Ignore him.” Even she could hear the irritation in her voice.

  “I regret that you are witness to Westervelt’s behavior. Eventually, he will get tired of hearing his own voice.” Gray placed his hand on hers and stared at her intently.

  There was a time when the soft smile on Gray’s lips made her heart soar. She spent two years hoping and wishing for him to return. She spent the next year trying to forget.

  “The lawless savage doesn’t know he’s not welcome here,” Rowland continued. He put his tankard to his mouth then pulled it away. He tipped the vessel upside down. Empty. He grabbed a tankard from his friend and drained it dry.

  “Come inside before you do something you’ll regret.” One of the men in Rowland’s group took the empty tankard from him. Rumblings erupted from the small group. Two of the men retreated to the Great Hall.

  “Let them go. They have no backbone like the Scot.” Rowland pushed away from the wall. “Leave MacDonald to her. The woman begged me to take her into the garden. He’s more than willing to accommodate her, any way he can.”

  Gray’s hand tightened on hers. “Come.”

  At times it was hard to tell whether it was his words or his tone that froze people in their tracks. Right now, she had no doubt it was both.

  “Quiet, you fool,” Rowland’s man insisted. “That isn’t some churl. She’s a Stelton. Her family has far greater influence than most of us here. Certainly more than a Westervelt.”

  Morgan took Gray’s arm. They walked past Rowland and the remaining men without a word.

  “We’ll see about that,” Rowland mumbled.

  Chapter 4

  Gray sat with his father and Lord Philip. The MacDonald and Stelton families were close and until three years ago visited each other often.

  “Did you enjoy your evening? I noticed you spent most of your time with my sons,” Lord Philip said.

  “Yes. Most enjoyable. They gave me a year-by-year account of what I missed.”

  It was good to be among them once again. Gray expected a strained reunion, awkward at best. But to his delight, the Stelton boys treated him as if they had been together yesterday. Even Mary-Margaret was glad to see him.

  Morgan remained his challenge.

  “Gray and I are treated well, but the undercurrents cannot be denied. What did you hear?” Alasdair asked Philip.

  Philip let out a deep breath. “Some people in Edward’s court are concerned about the Scots.”

  “Some people? You mean Westervelt.” Gray’s voice was hoarse but eerily calm. “Rowland and his father are the ones causing trouble.”

  “Yes, calling our people heathens, bloodthirsty, untrustworthy, and pointing to recent border incidents as proof.” The deep lines on his father’s face and sallow color made him appear tired and worn. He was facing more opposition than they thought.

  Gra
y slammed his hand on the arm of the chair. “I wouldn’t put it past Rowland if he and his men disguised themselves as Scots to create the problem.”

  “We can change people’s perception, but the rumors that privileged English information is in the hands of your Scottish king concerns me.” Philip jabbed his finger on the table to make his point.

  “Gray and I leave after sunrise. Once we’re gone, the gossip and rumors will stop.” Alasdair leaned forward and patted his friend’s hand.

  Gray shook his head. “They will not. Nor will the border raids by people pretending to be Scots, or rumors of a spy, or words against those who sympathize with the Scots. No, Father. This is the beginning, not the end.”

  “I’m sure you know Rowland is speaking to Edward about a match with Morgan.” Alasdair leaned back in his chair and stared at his friend.

  “Yes, Edward mentioned it. He thinks the match would strengthen the border for England.”

  Gray’s head rose a bit, his gaze set on both men. “And you believe Rowland would play that role?”

  “No. With my estate close to the border, it would be easy for him to launch raids into Scotland.” Philip let out a long breath. “I do not trust the Westervelts. Neither does Edward. Westervelt only wants to use Morgan as his pawn.”

  “I will protect her and the estate.” Gray left no room for doubt. He fingered the green gem that hung around his neck. “Have you given my proposition more thought?”

  “Philip, if you don’t decide soon, your king will.” His father was right.

  “And you’re the sacrificial lamb?” Philip asked Gray with a smile.

  “I wouldn’t call it that. I petitioned you three years ago for Morgan’s hand. Then you convinced me not to take her from you. Not to leave her alone on Skye while I performed my duty to my king.”

  “I have no regrets.” Philip’s voice was firm and final. “Nor should you. We did what was right for her. She didn’t belong in a harsh, remote area of Scotland living in a military compound to fend for herself while you served your king. What would she have done with you so badly wounded? It took you a year to recover.”

  “You never told her why I didn’t return.” Gray stared at Philip. The haunted expression in the man’s eyes told him he hit his mark. “You let her think I abandoned her.”

  Philip didn’t bear all the burden. He was at fault as well. As soon as he rode out of the manor courtyard, he regretted his decision to leave her behind. But the principled, protective, proud warrior left anyway. He’d learned a great deal since then. It took him coming close to death to realize what he lost.

  For years, amidst the pain of recovering, it was thinking of Morgan, planning on being together that helped him survive.

  “What’s done is done. Nothing would please me more than to call you son-in-law. I fear my action puts you at a disadvantage. For that I am sorry. I hope you can convince her. If she agrees, I will give you both my blessing.”

  The issue won, Gray relaxed, but only a little. He doubted he could win Morgan over as easily.

  “Come, the king will soon want to break the morning fast. I want to be there before Westervelt takes the seat next to Edward and bends his ear.” Philip stood. “Find Morgan. You must act before Rowland gets the king’s agreement. I will not go against my king.”

  Gray entered the Great Hall. Edward was in a heated discussion with Lord Westervelt. He scanned the room. Rowland was nowhere in sight. Neither was Morgan.

  Devon, along with Cameron and Bennett, stood by the hearth. “Gray, we searched for you earlier, hoping you’d join us for a ride along the cliffs. It was a magnificent view,” Devon said.

  Where on earth was Morgan?

  “Gray, why are you so preoccupied?”

  “Forgive me, Devon. I’m looking for Morgan.”

  “She is still in the stable. We left her there to brush down her mount before Mother found out she took her prize mare for a ride,” Cameron said.

  Gray glanced past the building materials scattered on the other side of the ward, past the barracks, and beyond to the stables.

  “You have my thanks.” He spun about to leave but stopped. “Enjoy your ride.” He hurried away toward the stables.

  Cameron shook his head.

  Chapter 5

  Morgan finished tending the mare and tossed the brush into the grooming pack. The morning ride with her brothers was wonderful. No one wanted to come back, and now she paid the price.

  There was little time until the morning meal with the king and queen. Rushing to her room, she stripped off her shirt and washed. She slipped on a chemise, her green kirtle over her britches, and fastened a dark brown silk belt at her hip. Without time to wash the road dust out of her hair, she pinned it up. Satisfied, she searched the small room for her cape and hood. She glanced from the bench to her wardrobe to the end of her bed.

  Nothing.

  She must have left it in the solar.

  She hurried down the hall, opened the chamber door and was startled to see Mary-Margaret.

  “You’re nothing but a traitor. You and your entire family.” Rowland stood close to Mary-Margaret. His accomplices tugged on his arm.

  Her sister’s hands gripped the side of her blue kirtle. Her eyes a mix of anger and fear.

  “You go too far. Leave the girl alone,” Fulko said.

  Rowland pulled Fulko’s arm away. “I’m not afraid of her, her father, or her brothers. She flaunts her closeness to the enemy and spits on--”

  “My sister is too much of a lady to spit. You, on the other hand, are vulgar and crass, not a gentleman at all. You accuse others of what you are guilty of.” Morgan marched the length of the room and stood next to her sister.

  Morgan would have enjoyed the puzzled expression on Rowland’s face if Mary-Margaret hadn’t been his target.

  He blinked and looked from her to her sister.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.” Fulko stared at the women aghast. “I’ve seen each of you separately, but never together...” He confronted Rowland. “Do you know which is Morgan and which is Mary-Margaret?”

  “A crown says the lady in green is Morgan.” One of his men slammed the coin on the table.

  “No, no, no. Two crowns that one is Mary-Margaret.” Another man stared at them closely. “Turn around, give us another look.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe you’re right.” A third man joined in.

  “What’s happening here” One of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting asked as they entered the room.

  “Which Stelton is Morgan? The lady in blue or the one in green?” Fulko asked.

  “Quick, Joanna. Give me a coin. I’m sure the one in blue is Morgan.” The Queen’s lady stretched out her hand for the coin.

  The more people that entered the salon, the more joined the frenzy and placed a bet.

  “Don’t say or do a thing,” Mary-Margaret said to Morgan. “Although I’d be happy if you had your sword.”

  Gray took the stairs two at a time. Frustrated, he couldn’t find Morgan, he entered the solar.

  “I tell you, the one in blue is Morgan,” a man in the crowd shouted.

  His hands fisted at his side at the frenzy of the situation. He would fight them all and bring the two women to safety. But something changed when he stared at Morgan.

  He walked over to the sister in the green kirtle, lifted her hand, and kissed her knuckles. “Lady Morgan.”

  “My lord.” Morgan gave a deep curtsy.

  Some cheered while others moaned.

  “Ladies, I have never seen such identical twins. Your twin brothers Geoffrey and Bennett have a family resemblance, but nothing like their sisters,” one of the others pointed out.

  “Of course, it was easy for the Scot to pick out Morgan.” Rowland stood behind her, his voice not quite a whisper. “She trades information from her father with the Scot in return for his service. He is a big brute of a man.”

  The room hushed.

  Morgan touched Gray’s arm.
He glanced at her as she quickly moved back, stomping hard on Rowland’s instep. With her elbow tucked at her side, she jabbed it back into his stomach, causing him to double over. Feigning clumsiness she faced him.

  “I’m so sorry, Rowland. Oh, dear, are you unwell? You’re almost as green as my dress.”

  She reached out to help him, but he moved away.

  “Rowland, you must be careful with Stelton women. They are beautiful, but with a deadly sting. Both of them are more than capable of taking care of themselves. Besides, you don’t want to anger their brothers. Each one is as large as a tree.

  “I, on the other hand, am a lawless savage without any backbone, a barbarian who doesn’t know my place.” Gray moved closer to Rowland. “And I warn you, the next time you say anything ungentlemanly to Lady Morgan or her sister, their brothers will need to wait for me to finish with you.” The playful smile on Gray’s face hardened into a fierce expression. “Do I make myself clear?”

  Rowland’s glare carried a touch of fear.

  Gray’s stare didn’t waiver.

  Rowland was the one who lacked a backbone. The coward motioned to his followers. The rest of the crowd dispersed.

  Devon entered the room as Rowland and the others filed out. “I came as soon as I realized something was wrong. You’re never late.”

  Devon put his arm around Mary-Margaret.

  “I was never so humiliated. I felt as though I was being sold to the highest bidder.” Mary-Margaret stared up at Devon.

  “I wondered if they were going to inspect our teeth as Father did the mare he bought Mother.” Morgan mumbled under her breath.

  The softened expression on Mary-Margaret’s face as she gazed at her fiancé, her protector, made Gray realize that once Morgan stared at him that way. How he longed to see that expression again.

  Chapter 6

  “This isn’t the first time Rowland has mistaken you for me, is it?” Morgan already knew the answer.