A Stranger's Touch (11 page)

‘It is the law and those that flaunt it risk punishment. You are not the first to risk it, Morwenna, but until the law is changed ‘tis a dangerous profession. People are superstitious. Have you not heard of the Witchfinder? Women have been put to the test for less, Morwenna.’

Morwenna shivered. ‘I had no idea they would think the story true—’twas merely a play and I said so little.’

‘Have you no idea how magnificent you looked? Your words had me shivering in my boots. For a woman to sing in a public place was seen as a moral outrage—though I doubt not the day will come when the law will change and women will take their place on the stage without fear of the law, even if they have to play youth’s parts.’

‘I am glad you gave the players money. They were kind to me and I meant no harm.’

Morwenna felt close to tears as Rupert took her arm, pushing her out into the inn yard.
Holding her tight, he led her to where his horse stood waiting.

‘You must ride with me. We have no other choice.’

‘I know how to ride. My father taught me.’

‘We will buy you a horse, but not from here. I do not wish to spend more time here than necessary. That priest is stirring them up and I would not have them come after you, Morwenna. Even I could not be sure of holding a mob if they hunted a witch.’

She was pale and silent as he put her up and then jumped into the saddle, but his arms went round her, holding her, comforting her, and she felt the ice melting about her heart. How could she be angry with him when he had come to her rescue?

‘We shall be in England soon. I shall take you to my home first and then we’ll go to London.’

Morwenna made no reply. She was uncertain what else she might do, though she could not forget the words he had spoken to her on the night of the wrecking. If he thought her a merciless creature that would lure men to their death to steal their goods, why had he bothered to come in search of her? Yet she must be grateful for his arrival, for had he not come in
time she might have had to leave her friends and strike out alone once more—and had the crowd turned nasty. A shiver ran through her at the thought for she had heard vague tales of women being put to the test, though it had never happened in her village.

Rupert’s arms tightened about her. ‘You are safe now, Morwenna. I shall not let those fools hurt you. I am sorry for the things I said to you the night of the storm. I saw dead men in the water and it made me angry, but I should have known that you had played no part in luring that ship to its doom.’

‘Nor were my brothers to blame. Michael would punish the culprits if he found them, but they may have been strangers. We might be smugglers, but we are not wreckers.’

‘Jacques told me the same and I believed him. Think no more of it, my love. I have regretted that night a thousand times. We are together now and if I have my way nothing shall part us. I have vowed to care for you and I shall do so if you let me.’

Morwenna was silent. With all her being she longed to be with him, to be his mistress and give him all the love that was in her, but was she wise to do so?

Yet if she found a way to leave him, she would be alone and that morning had taught her that the world was a more dangerous place than she had guessed in her father’s house.

Morwenna looked at the house before them. They had left Truro two days previously and now they were in England, on the borders of the Welsh Marches. It was not a huge house Rupert had brought her to, not the kind of dwelling she would expect a lord to live in, but she sensed it meant something to him. She felt a response in him as they approached, as if he felt at home here.

‘What is this place?’

‘It is my retreat,’ he said and smiled as he lifted her down into his arms. ‘My family came from these parts before my father was made a marquis. My great-great-grandfather bought the estate. It was only when the family became very rich and acquired larger estates that they moved to the castle.’

‘You are a marquis and live in a castle?’

‘I inherited the title from my father. Sometimes I live in the castle, but not often. My father died three years since, but my mother and sister live in the castle still. I visit from time to time,
but I am often at court in London and when I have leisure I come here to Melford.’

‘It is a lovely house,’ she said. ‘The stone is mellowed by time and it looks golden in the sunshine.’

‘Yes, I like it here. The people who care for it are simple folk. We shall not share a bed here, Morwenna. The servants must be allowed to believe you are a distant cousin fallen on hard times and that I have brought you here for your safety.’

Morwenna felt the hot blush sweep up her cheeks. ‘Are you ashamed of me? Why do you not take me to the nearest town and leave me? I can make my own way to London.’

‘Who will you fall in with next?’ he asked, an odd smile on his lips. ‘If you do not wish to stay with me when we get to London, I will take you to your aunt’s house and you can send word to Jacques.’

‘I do not wish to go to my aunt’s house. She is a sour, cold woman and would make my life a misery once she knew—’ She broke off, feeling hot all over.

‘Knew what, Morwenna?’ Rupert looked down at her. She turned her head away, but he
caught her chin and made her look at him. ‘That you had been my lover?’

She would not look at him as she said, ‘You need not feel responsible. I was willing enough.’

‘You were virgin when we loved. I took your innocence and must take care of you. For though you have a rascal for a brother I know you to be honest.’

‘Even so, I am capable of looking after myself.’

‘Indeed? You will allow me to be the judge, Mistress Morgan. I found you in some difficulty, you may recall.’ He turned away to greet the elderly man and woman who came out into the yard to welcome them. ‘Tomas and Anne—I would have you be kind to my cousin, Mistress Morwenna Morgan. Her family has fallen on hard times and I have brought her here so that I may protect her. We shall go to London in a few days, but for now I want her to rest and recover her spirits.’

‘Welcome, Mistress Morgan. It is good to see you, milord,’ the old man said. ‘All is well here, as always. My son sees to the land and we care for the house. Come in, for your chamber is always ready and the guest chamber will take but a moment to prepare.’

‘We shall have food and wine in the parlour, Tomas. My cousin has few belongings. I shall supply her lack before we leave for town.’

‘There are trunks of silks and good wool cloths in the store chambers, my lord,’ the elderly woman said and curtsied to Morwenna. ‘For such a beautiful lady I would advise the silks be made up by the seamstress. I will send for her today, should you wish.’

‘I can help to sew the garments,’ Morwenna said and then blushed as the woman looked at her curiously. ‘I do not wish to be a trouble to you.’

‘I have told you that my home is yours, Morwenna. My people will be glad to work for you.’ Rupert took her arm, looking at her sternly. ‘Come, I shall show you my house.’

Morwenna made no reply. Tears were stinging behind her eyes as he took her inside the beautiful old manor house. Although very old and built in the fourteenth century, it had been kept in good repair and the inside was well furnished with both ancient oak and more modern walnut pieces with twisty legs and splats in the back of the elbow chairs. There were carpets on the floors and some of the walls had been recently panelled with light oak to make
it warmer. Bright cushions in jewel-like colours were placed on carved benches and the smell of rose petals was everywhere. It was the house of a wealthy man and one that cared for his home.

‘Someone is industrious here,’ Morwenna said as she looked about her. ‘This is a lovely home.’

She sighed, for even when her mother lived the house in Cornwall had never been this comfortable or so well appointed. After her parents died, Morwenna had struggled to keep it clean and the little touches that made a house a home had been forgotten.

Seeing the smiling maid, busy with her beeswax, and the potboy come up from the kitchen in his coarse apron to look at her, she smiled. Clearly the people here were curious about her and she wondered if this was the first time Rupert had brought a lady to his home. One or two other servants had drifted into the hall, eager smiles on their faces as they looked at their lord and his guest and then at each other.

They imagined her to be their lord’s intended. Morwenna’s throat caught as she thought how happy she would be if that were the case, but Rupert had made her position clear. His servants were to believe that she was a poor relation he
had taken pity on—and in a way that was true. He had rescued her from an unpleasant incident that might have turned nasty and because she’d been virgin when he seduced her, he believed it was his duty to care for her.

For a moment fierce regret swept through her. If she had not lain with him she would not be in this awkward position. Rupert did not truly love her, though he called her his love and spoke of sharing a bed. She would be his mistress while he wanted her and then he would send her away, no doubt with sufficient money to live in comfort somewhere in obscurity, especially if they should have a child.

She shook her head because it was not a future she cared to see. Her pride would carry her through these next few days, because these people were good honest folk and clearly thought much of their lord. She would not make a fuss or deviate from the story he chose, but once they left here she would find a way to slip off and make her own way to London.

Yet it broke her heart to think of leaving him. Why should she leave him? There was nothing in life for her without him.

‘D
o not look as if you were a trapped fawn,’ Rupert said as the door closed behind them and they were alone in his parlour. ‘Eat some of this good food. I dare say you have not tasted as good since you left home.’

Morwenna picked up a piece of fresh bread, spread it with pale butter and added cheese to it, chewing with some relish. Rupert had taken it on himself to fill her plate with slices of ham, relishes and a slice of piggy pie.

‘I am not sure if the pie is as good as you make, but I think you will find it has its own taste.’

Morwenna nibbled at a tiny slice and smiled. ‘It has a distinctive taste, very different to the
recipe that Bess makes. She would be curious and I think she would like this …’

‘What happened to her? Is she still at the house?’

‘No, she was to go to her sister. Michael must find a new servant, I think.’

‘Your brothers may soon find themselves eating prison swill if they do not mend their ways.’

Morwenna’s eyes flashed fire as she looked at him. ‘Why do you say that? What harm did they do to you?’

‘It is the harm they may do to others that matters here. Jacques says Michael tells him only what he needs him to do—is that the truth?’

‘Yes, why?’

‘It may save his life if it is accepted at their trial.’

‘You would see my brothers ruined? You would see them broken on the rack and hanged?’ A sob rose to her lips, but she denied it.

‘It is not my wish, Morwenna. Jacques is determined never to return to that house and may escape Michael’s fate. I think he might like to come here as my steward—do you think such a position would suit him?’

Her eyes opened wide. ‘It is exactly what
Jacques would like—but are you sure? Why should you do something like that for him?’

‘I trust him now I know he isn’t involved in the plot to murder the King and destroy our constitution—and my steward ages. He will need help as the years pass.’

‘You think my eldest brother is involved in this treason?’

‘I have been told that there is proof of involvement with known Jesuits and Catholic troublemakers. We suspect that a plot is being hatched—and the men involved have been seen with Michael. One of them was arrested. He escaped and was followed to your village and then disappeared before the militia could deal him with.’

‘You think Michael helped him get away to France on his ship?’

‘I am certain he did and I think it was not the first time it has happened. Your brother is deeply involved with the plotters.’

‘If you will excuse me, I shall go to my chamber …’

Morwenna turned away, but he caught her arm, refusing to allow her to leave him. ‘Not so fast. I know now that neither you nor Jacques was involved in these plots. I may keep you both
safe if I can but unless Michael mends his ways he will be taken and punished.’

‘Why do you say these things to me? Do you wish to torment me? To punish me?’

‘Why should I punish you?’ His hand reached out and caressed her cheek. ‘Surely you know I care for you, Morwenna? I must tell you the truth, for I would have no more lies between us. Had I not lost my memory I might never have known you, for I came in search of a traitor and you were his sister. For all I knew you were involved in their plotting, but my memory had gone and I found you lovely. As sweet and warm as you were honest. Can you blame me for what I did? The feeling between us was mutual, I think.’

Morwenna’s stomach clenched as she tried to control the heat that raced through her at his touch. Her lips parted on a ragged breath. She caught back a sob.

‘I know what my brother does is wrong—but Michael lost so much when Father died and we realised we had nothing left but the house. The woman he was to have married was forced to marry another.’ She sighed and her protest died away. ‘I know that does not excuse what he does, but he is still my brother.’

‘And your caring does you credit,’ Rupert said, smiling. ‘Yet he has chosen his own way and will not heed you. You must put the past behind you and think of the future.’

‘Yes, I know.’ She caught back a sighing breath. ‘I am but a woman and can do nothing.’

‘Come now, eat your food and then Mistress Anne will show you to your chamber, where you may rest. She may have found you a clean gown that will do until we can have more made.’

Morwenna nodded, trying to banish the threatening tears and to swallow food that seemed to stick in her throat. It was foolish to be so emotional.

Rupert was being kind to her, but she wanted more. She wanted so much more than he was willing to give. He had never promised her marriage. It was her fault for falling in love with him.

Morwenna must accept what he offered or find a way to escape him.

‘Do you play an instrument?’ Rupert asked when they were alone in the parlour that evening.

‘My mother had fine instruments and she taught me to play the virginals and the harp.
My father destroyed them after she died, for he could not bear to look at them, but had I an instrument I would play it.’

‘I think my sister had a harp, but she did not play the virginals. When we are in London I shall buy instruments for you. I sometimes play the flute and I like to sing. Even though you may not sing upon the stage, Morwenna, our friends will enjoy your voice.’

‘Shall we have friends if I am—?’ She broke off and blushed as he looked at her.

‘Most of my friends have a mistress,’ Rupert said. ‘We shall entertain them and they will ask us to their houses. You must not think I mean to hide you away.’

‘Oh.’ Morwenna looked away from him. She was not sure what it was to be a man’s mistress. Her family would think it shameful, but great men had different ways and if it was accepted in London amongst his friends then perhaps it would not seem so very wrong. She must accept her fate, for to leave him now would surely break her heart. Besides, her reputation had been lost when she ran away from home. ‘I see. I was not perfectly sure.’

Rupert moved towards her. He took her hand and kissed it.

‘I care for you, Morwenna. We shall have a good life together and you will find no shame in being my lover, I promise you. I shall never cast you off or hurt you and if we part it will be because we no longer wish to be together. Even then I shall offer you my friendship and protection.’

‘I thank you.’

She stumbled over the words, for the tears burned behind her eyelids. Rupert was a man of honour and generous, but he did not love her as she loved him. He had no idea that he was breaking her heart or that she might one day be forced to leave him because the hurt simply became too much to bear.

She would hide her pain behind a smile, because there was nothing else she could do.

‘Have you enjoyed your stay here, Morwenna?’ Rupert came upon her in the gardens of his home as she bent her head to sniff at a beautiful white rose that had somehow escaped the frosts of autumn. ‘I know you like to walk, for you rise early every morning. What else do you enjoy?’

‘Is this not a beautiful rose?’ Morwenna asked, smiling at him. ‘It has a delicate perfume.
Mama tried to grow roses, but the winds were too cold for them and they withered. Shall we have a rose garden, Rupert?’

‘Yes, of course, if you wish it. I remember there was once a beautiful red rose that grew here in a sheltered spot. Its perfume was matched only by the deep crimson of its petals. You must tell me what you like and I shall try to provide the things you need.’

‘My needs are not great,’ she said. ‘I like to talk and laugh and to walk or ride. I think it would be pleasant to have dogs if one lived in the countryside.’

‘I thought we might live in London, but I dare say we could spend time in the country if it suited you,’ he said, a slight frown creasing his brow. ‘Do you like to embroider? Shall I buy you silks and a frame for your pleasure?’

‘That would be pleasant. I could make shirts for you and embroider your initials on your nightgown.’ She saw the laughter in his eyes and her colour rose. ‘What have I said to amuse you?’

‘I sleep naked, Morwenna, just as I was when you nursed me and bathed my heated body.’

‘Oh.’ She turned away hastily lest he should
see her embarrassment. It was true that she had thought him beautiful when she cooled his fever.

Was it because she had done those things for him that he thought she had no shame? Did he think her wanton or unworthy in some way? He spoke of caring for her, but he had never once suggested marriage.

Why? Was there some reason why he could not wed her—or was it simply that he thought her the sister of a traitor, unworthy of his name?

The thought struck her to the heart, but she thrust it from her mind as he held out his hand to her.

‘Come, Morwenna. I shall show you my favourite places. The trees I liked to climb and the stream I fished in as a boy.’

Morwenna took his hand. Sometimes in this beautiful place she could almost believe she was his wife and loved.

‘That colour becomes you well, Mistress Morwenna,’ the old woman said as she fastened the ties at the back of the beautiful green silk gown. It had a squared neckline with a broad band of embroidery, a narrow stomacher, which was embroidered with beads and silk, and a full skirt that gathered into a little train at the back.

‘‘Tis a shame you have no jewels to wear for the gown deserves them.’

‘I do have some pearls my mother left me,’ Morwenna said and went to the coffer she had been given for her use. She lifted the lid and took out the little pouch that contained the precious necklet. The pearls were small and misshapen, but precious to her because they had been her mother’s. She put them around her neck, slipping the clasp into place. ‘There, will they do?’

‘They look well enough,’ Anne said, but there was a note of reserve in her voice. Clearly she thought Morwenna should wear something more in keeping with the status of her protector’s family. ‘I dare say my lord will present you with jewels worthy of you soon enough.’

A protest rose to Morwenna’s lips, but she held it inside. It had become obvious to her these past few days that Rupert’s servants believed she would be their new mistress. She would not disillusion them, for they would learn the truth soon enough.

Leaving her chamber, she went down the stairs to the parlour. As she paused outside, she heard voices. Resisting the temptation to listen, she turned away and went out into the garden. If
Rupert wished her to meet his guest, he would come in search of her.

Her time had passed pleasantly since they’d arrived at the manor, for she had been allowed to do exactly as she pleased. Rupert had been busy with his steward and his agents, riding his acres and making decisions that would be carried out to the letter. She had seen for herself that the land was in good heart and everything was well ordered. Rupert might not come often to this house, but his servants were industrious even when their master was not at home.

How she would love to live in this house as its mistress! Morwenna sighed deeply, for she knew such a dream was impossible. Rupert had promised to look after her, but she would be his mistress and see him only when he had the time to spare. She would not be a part of his family and but a small part of his life.

Her throat was tight and she fought the tears, pulling her cloak tighter about her as she shivered in the cool breeze. Soon now the autumn would be over and they would be deep in winter.

She had her back turned to him when she heard Rupert’s approach and turned slowly to face him.

‘Forgive me if I have neglected you,’ he said, his eyes moving over her with warm admiration. ‘Your new gown becomes you, Morwenna. Are you satisfied with it?’

‘Yes, perfectly. The silk is finer than I have possessed before.’

‘I am pleased if it finds favour in your eyes.’

Morwenna smiled, but made no reply. Fine gowns were all very well, but what she needed was a sign that she truly meant something to him. Since their arrival he’d kept his distance, never approaching her when they might be in seclusion. She’d had plenty to keep her busy, but she enjoyed the short time they spent together in the evenings when they supped and spoke of their day before parting each to their own bedchamber.

Rupert had been scrupulous, treating her exactly as he would a spinster lady of his family. He was courteous and respectful, but sometimes she saw a spark of fire in his eyes and believed he was thinking of what it might be like if she lay in his bed each night. If only they could spend every night and the better part of their day together. She would then have all she could ever want.

‘Did you have a visitor earlier? I heard voices
when I came to your chamber, but I turned away for I did not wish to intrude.’

‘It was merely a messenger from London. I am instructed to return as soon as possible. We shall leave here the day after tomorrow.’

‘Must we?’ Morwenna sighed for she had felt happy here and wished they might stay a little longer.

His brows arched as he caught her sigh. ‘You like it here so much?’

‘I have never known a home like this,’ she replied honestly. ‘I could wish that it were mine, but I know that is impossible. Your plans for me do not include taking me into your home. I have felt a sense of belonging, but of course I do not belong here.’

‘Do you not?’ Rupert’s gaze narrowed and she saw an odd expression in his eyes. For a moment he looked so bleak that she wondered at the memories behind that look. ‘We must see how we go on, Morwenna. My business takes me to London, but …’ He shook his head as if gathering his scattered thoughts. ‘I should tell you that there is more information concerning the plotters. If Michael is involved, I shall not be able to save him.’

‘My brother is a law unto himself. If Michael
is the traitor you think him, then he must take the consequences. However, I would plead for mercy for Jacques. Michael tells him what to do and he does it, but he is not wicked.’

‘Why does Jacques not press him for answers if he doubts him?’

‘Michael is the head of the house …’ She faltered and looked away, then, ‘Jacques told you he would no longer be a part of Michael’s plans?’