A Stranger's Touch (12 page)

‘If he keeps to his word, he is safe.’

‘Thank you.’ Tears stung her throat. ‘You must think us a troublesome family.’

‘Perhaps.’ Rupert smiled. ‘I, too, long for adventure at times, which is why I became involved in this business. I understand your brothers more than you might imagine. I will help them if I can, but Michael holds his own fate in his hands.’

‘Yes, I understand.’

Morwenna turned away, tears stinging her eyes. Rupert reached out and caught her wrist, holding her so firmly that she looked back at him, her throat tight.

‘You know that I care for you?’

‘Yes.’ Her voice was tremulous, uncertain. ‘You told me when we lay together. I was not
sure you meant it. You were so angry the night the wreckers came. You thought me one of them.’

‘I have wished my cruel words unsaid a thousand times.’ He drew her closer so that she was but a breath away from his body, gazing down at her. ‘If I kiss you now, I shall take you to my chamber and make love to you. Since I do not wish to ruin your reputation and shock my staff, I shall keep my distance until we leave this house.’ His eyes caressed her, hot and needy. ‘I want you so much and I shall always take care of you and, if we should have children, they will not want. You need not fear for the future, Morwenna. As soon as we reach London I shall find a suitable house where we can be together. You will have servants to care for you and many more fine gowns, jewels and horses. I shall spend as much time with you as I can. It will be a good life. I hope it will content you?’

‘Yes, I think I shall be happy when we are settled.’

What alternative did she have? Alone and friendless, she would end up in some menial position if he abandoned her. Morwenna must take what he offered and make the most of what he gave.

He moved closer still, eyes seeming to scorch her as he looked into her face. She felt the heat of his passion engulf her like a flame, setting her on fire. How could she ever leave him when she wanted to be in his arms so much? Her thoughts of running away were wild and foolish—she wanted to lie with him in scented sheets as they had that first night in the cottage at the top of the cliffs. A part of her said it was not enough and yet her heart cried out that it would break if she left him.

‘You’d best go into the house,’ Rupert said at last. ‘If we stay here longer, I shall carry you into a secret place and ravish you. For the sake of my people and your reputation, I shall wait until we are in London and no one knows us or cares what we do. My friends have their mistresses and you will be welcomed by them all.’

Once again her throat felt tight and tears pricked, but she held them back and smiled. What more could she expect? She was a lady born, but she had given herself to him like a wanton. She could expect nothing more than he was offering her. No man would ever wish to wed her now.

Turning away so that he should not see her tears, she went into the house with her head held
high. One day he would tire of her, but she knew he would not simply cast her off. She would be provided for even though he looked elsewhere for his pleasure. In the meantime she must make the most of what he offered.

Rupert watched her walk into the house. She had the poise and bearing of a queen. He knew that, had her circumstances been other than they were, he would not have been offering to make her his mistress. She was all fire and passion, but she was a lady and she deserved more than he could give her.

Yet he could not wed the sister of a man who was likely to be taken for treason, tried and executed. As his mistress, she would be hidden away and no one would connect her with Michael Morgan, but if he were to marry her, her name and family must be known.

What was he thinking of? Marriage was out of the question. He owed too much to his family name and tradition. No, it was impossible. His father would stir in his grave and his mother would weep and beg him to think of her before allying himself with the sister of a traitor. She would remind him of his promise and of other things, using all her strength to punish him.

Rupert was his father’s second son. His brother Richard should have inherited most of what was his, but an accident when they were playing as boys had lead to a terrible tragedy. Richard had fallen into the moat when they were fighting on the steep banks. He had been the elder and stronger, but though they fought in jest and laughed, his foot had slipped when Rupert pushed him. In falling into the icy water of the deep moat that surrounded the castle he’d struck his head, going down like a stone beneath the murky water. Rupert’s screams had brought men rushing to his rescue, but though alive when dragged from the water, he’d died of the resulting fever some days later.

Rupert’s father had understood it was an accident, but his mother—his mother had never forgiven him. She blamed Rupert for the loss of her favourite son. Indeed, he thought she hated him, insisting that it was his fault, though Richard had begun the game.

‘You should not have been fighting near the moat,’ the Dower Marchioness had told him many times. ‘If you’d obeyed your father, my son would still be alive.’

Rupert’s pride prevented him from begging for understanding. He’d begged her pardon, but
her cold eyes told him that his sin would never be forgiven. She would never accept Morwenna Morgan as his wife and the future mother of his heirs. Even though he found the idea appealing, he knew it could not be. His proud mother would not have it and he’d promised her grandsons she could love.

No, no, such an alliance was not to be thought of. Indeed, Rupert had not thought of marriage for some time. Not since his betrothed died of that terrible fever. He had been devastated by her sudden and fatal illness and since then he’d taken his pleasures lightly, never considering a relationship that would touch his heart. If he had not lost his memory, he might not have fallen for Morwenna’s sweetness so easily.

She deserved so much more than he could give her.

No other woman had come close to touching his inner citadel, but, he realised now, Morwenna had broken down his defences. He would not wish to part with her. She had become more to him than he’d ever intended.

He would do his best to make her happy. It was natural that she should be a little uneasy after the way he’d raged at her and then walked away. She needed time to come to trust him and
that was one of the reasons why he’d brought her here, to a place where he knew he could not indulge his own needs, his own passions. Rupert wanted her in his bed. He wanted to make love to her all the time, to see that drowsy satiated expression in her beautiful eyes when they lay together in the candlelight. If he’d cared only for himself, he would have found an inn and taken her to bed the first night, but he wanted her to be ready. To welcome him without doubt or fear in her eyes.

In London he would give her all the things she’d never had, lavish her with love and affection and the luxuries his money could buy. Surely then, when she saw how he cared for her safety and her pleasure, she would be ready to become the passionate mistress he needed?

‘Come back to us soon, my lord,’ Mistress Anne said as she and the steward accompanied them out to the courtyard. Morwenna was to ride a fine, milk-white palfrey, which stood waiting for her docilely as she made her farewells. ‘And bring Mistress Morwenna with you, for she brings sunshine to us all.’

‘Thank you for looking after me,’ Morwenna said and pressed a small coin into her hand.
The old woman shook her head, but Morwenna closed her fingers over it. ‘For your grandchildren if you wish it so.’

‘For the children, mistress. It has been a pleasure to look after you these past few days.’

Morwenna kissed her cheek, then turned away. A groom helped her to mount her horse as Rupert took his last farewell. Then they were moving out of the courtyard. She looked back once, noting the way the old stone walls glowed in the late autumn sun. The best of the year had gone now and soon it would be winter. Here it had seemed as warm as summer these past few days, but she knew it was but an illusion, just as the peace and serenity of the old house was merely a dream. Life was never this sweet in reality. If they had stayed longer she would have seen the truth soon enough, but it was a pleasant memory to take with her and something she would never forget.

Rupert brought his horse alongside hers, his smile seeming to ask a question. ‘You will be happy in London, I promise you.’

‘Yes, I’m sure I shall.’ She threw him a gallant smile. ‘How long shall we be on the road?’

‘A few days,’ he replied. ‘Impatient, Morwenna?
You need not be. I shall come to your bed this night!’

Her heart fluttered like a trapped moth against a windowpane, her throat closing as she raised her head and gave him a proud look. She wanted to be in his arms again, wanted it badly, but she needed so much more than he was prepared to give.

She wanted his love. Yet she dared not express her own.

It was late when they finally reached the inn that night. A thick fog had sprung up on the way, cutting their sight of the road off for hours at a time and causing delay. Had they passed another inn they might have taken a room, but none had been found and it was not until it began to rain that the mist cleared and they were at last able to find the right road and complete their journey.

‘I took only one room here for I planned on spending the night together,’ Rupert said as he helped her dismount. ‘I know it is late and you are tired. I will ask if there is another room.’

‘No need,’ she said in a small whisper. ‘I would rather you stayed with me. I shall feel more comfortable if you are by my side.’

‘The inn is respectable, though a little noisy,’ Rupert said as the light spilled out into the courtyard and there was laughter and shouting from inside the taproom. ‘The host’s wife will take you straight up. I shall bespoke supper for us and we will have it in our chamber.’

‘Thank you. I am not very hungry, but perhaps some warmed ale and bread or scones with preserves.’

‘I shall order a selection and you may eat what you wish. If you are tired, rest on the bed. I shall not disturb you should you fall asleep.’

Morwenna nodded, but she was not in the least tired, her nerves stretched and tingling as she thought of his coming to her later.

She was taken up to a large comfortable chamber where a fire burned. Warm water in pewter jugs was waiting for her, together with cloths for washing and drying.

‘If there is anything more, my lady, you have only to ask and I shall send one of the girls up with it.’

‘You seem to have thought of everything, ma’am. I thank you for your kindness.’

‘Nothing is too much trouble for his lordship’s lady.’

Morwenna felt a warm flush in her cheeks.

Did the woman think she was Rupert’s wife—or merely his mistress?

She had not removed her mother’s ring which she wore on her left hand. It had served her when she posed as a widow and would serve her now—yet she knew the truth and a part of her mind felt shamed.

When she’d gone to him on the cliffs that night, she’d seen herself as his lover—seen them as being true lovers and thought no further. Now it was coming to her that she was a kept woman, a scarlet woman. She had forfeited her modesty and her respectability for love—but did Rupert understand why she had abandoned her modesty that day? Or did he think her a wanton who would lie with one man as easily as another?

That thought was distressing and she thrust it from her immediately. Rupert had taken her virginity—and he claimed to care for her.

She must not regret what had gone, but welcome the future.

R
upert and their supper arrived at the same moment. The serving wenches laid out the various dishes on a trestle table in front of the dormer window, then accepted a small coin from Rupert’s hand and departed.

‘You have ordered so much,’ Morwenna said as she took her seat and saw the array of foods. There was a rich stew that smelled of onions and beef, also cold chicken, relishes, cheese, bread, butter and preserves and a sweet dish of honey and curds. ‘I could not eat so much, especially when we are about to go to bed.’ She blushed as she spoke and saw him smile.

‘Our journey was made longer by the mist, as you are aware. We are both tired and hungry.
Eat as much as you wish. I shall make no demands on you this night.’

‘I wasn’t meaning …’ Morwenna’s stomach rumbled and she blushed and then laughed. ‘Perhaps I am hungry after all.’

‘We should have eaten long since,’ he said. ‘Our host has no spare rooms, but I can sit by the fire and sleep. It would not be the first time I’ve passed the night in such a way.’

‘Please do not be foolish.’ She yawned and then took a sip of ale. ‘I dare say I may fall asleep as soon as my head touches the pillow, but there is no reason why you should not lie beside me. You will find it more comfortable than that chair.’

‘Yes, I should,’ he agreed. ‘Very well. You may trust me—I shall not take advantage as you sleep.’

‘Why should you? We have all the time in the world once we find a place to stay.’

‘How sensible of you, Morwenna.’

She looked at him, sensing that he was laughing. ‘Please do not mock me. It is the truth, is it not?’

‘I was not mocking you and it is the truth,’ he replied with a smile. ‘Eat some of this excellent stew. I promise you that it is very good.’

‘I could not at this hour, but the rolls and preserves are very good and so is the curd. I seldom have such sweet treats, though I like them.’

‘Yes, I have noticed,’ Rupert said. ‘I think at home you cooked for your brothers rather than yourself, is that not so?’

‘Yes, it was easier,’ Morwenna said. ‘It seemed a waste to prepare such dishes just for me, because even Bess was not partial to them.’

‘I enjoy sweetmeats sometimes. We shall have them when we dine together, but your cook will prepare them,’ Rupert said. ‘Your hands are not so sore now, I think. In time they will be white again.’

‘Yes, perhaps, though I am not sure they will ever be as soft as they once were.’

‘I shall buy you lotions and salves that will help.’ Rupert lifted her right hand and kissed the palm. ‘I intend to spoil you, my love. You shall have all you desire.’

All I want is your love
.

The words were in her mind, but she did not speak them. She could not ask for more than he wished to give. She had agreed to be his mistress and she must not demand more.

Rupert lay looking down at her as she slept. Her skin was softly flushed, her hair spread on
the pillow. She had been very tired, falling into a deep sleep almost as soon as they lay down. He, too, had slept, but his habit was to wake early, for he needed very little sleep and so he had been lying watching her for some time.

The temptation to touch her hair and kiss her lips was strong, but he had promised not to take advantage. He must wait until she woke, until she was ready to let him make love to her as they had in the cave that last time.

She’d given herself so sweetly, holding nothing back. He wanted her to be that way again, which was why he’d waited for so many days, tormented by need, but afraid of appearing too demanding. This must be strange and a little frightening for her. She did not know where they were going or what she would find there—nor was she certain of his affection. It was strong. Perhaps stronger than either of them yet knew, but even so he could not offer what she deserved. He ought in all honour to offer marriage, but it was not possible and yet …

‘Rupert?’ She opened her eyes and looked up at him and then smiled. ‘I thought I was dreaming. I thought you had gone and that I should never see you again, but you’re here.’

‘Yes, I’m here, dearest,’ he murmured huskily
as he bent his head to caress her lips with his own. She opened to him as his tongue danced along her mouth and their tongues met in a delicious duel of love. ‘You still taste of honey. I’ve never know a woman to taste that way first thing in the morning.’

‘It was such delicious honey,’ she murmured and ran her pink tongue over her lips. ‘I was greedy and ate too much.’

‘I like the taste on you,’ he said, ‘but you always taste sweet. I think it is your own taste and owes nothing to the landlord’s honey.’

Rupert kissed her long and hard, his hand stroking the length of her down to her thigh. His tongue flicked at her mouth, then moved lower, moving aside the soft material of her night chemise, laving the sweet valley between her breasts and circling her nipples until she arched and cried out in need. His hand caressed her breasts, cupping and squeezing gently before moving slowly down to the warm moistness between her thighs.

‘You smell good, too,’ he murmured, bending his head to inhale the perfume of her musk. He kissed her mound of soft curls and threaded his fingers through them, before slipping his
hand between her thighs. His finger sought and stroked the nub of her femininity, making the moisture run as she spilled her essence over his fingers and arched into him, mewing like a kitten.

‘Not yet, my sweet,’ he murmured throatily. ‘I’m starving.’

‘After all that supper?’

‘I wasn’t speaking of food. It’s you I want, Morwenna. You I need now.’

‘I want you, too,’ she breathed as he lowered himself over her, his heat burning her as he moved against her and she felt the soft skin of his huge male organ between her thighs. ‘Oh, yes … yes …’

Her legs opened wider for him as he sought entrance. He found her moist opening, easing his huge sex inside her and letting her settle about him before he thrust up into her silken sheath. She fit him perfectly, accommodating his length and thickness with ease.

Together they moved as one, relishing the sweetness of this early morning loving. His hands continued to stroke and caress her, squeezing her buttocks as she lifted herself towards him so that he could plunge deeper and deeper inside her.

Rupert took his time, easing himself in and out, pausing to kiss and tease her with his tongue, so that the anticipation was sharpened and their loving continued on and on rather than coming to a frantic end.

Morwenna’s nails were scraping his shoulders as she clung to him, her breath coming in little panting cries that grew louder as the sensation of pleasure mounted, until at the last she screamed his name and dug her nails into his flesh, her body trembling and jerking as something gave way inside her and she came and came again in waves of mind-rending pleasure. His seed spilled inside her and then he lay still, his face buried in her hair, sated and content.

They lay entwined for some time until Rupert rolled away, taking her with him so that they were still joined together by tangled limbs, but his weight no longer lay full on her.

‘Are you content?’ he asked as she sighed against his shoulder.

‘Very content.’

‘Good.’ He kissed her hair. ‘We shall do well together, Morwenna. Now, I should get up before the chambermaid brings water. We shall leave as soon as we’ve broken our fast.’

‘How many more days must we spend on the road?’

‘Three or four, perhaps,’ he replied. ‘It will pass, my love. When we are in town you may stay in bed all day if you wish.’

‘Only when you are in it,’ she said. She sat up and looked at him, sudden excitement in her face. ‘I want to explore London, see the palaces and the Tower and everything of interest.’

‘What of the shops? Do you not want to visit the silk merchants and purchase all manner of trifles? I shall give you money of your own so you may shop to your heart’s content.’

‘Yes, I should like that, for I have seldom had the chance to choose what I like,’ she said and laughed, giving him a naughty look. ‘Do you mean to spoil me, Rupert?’

‘Yes, of course. What else should I do with my mistress? Especially if she pleases me the way you please me.’

Rupert rolled away from her and pulled on his hose and breeches. He did not notice her smile dim or see the look of hurt in her eyes.

He thought of her as his mistress, a woman his money could buy. For a moment she was swamped by humiliation. Did he not know that she had given herself to him because she loved
him, that she would never love another man this way?

The words built inside her, wanting to boil over in a hot torrent of regret and reproach. She was not a whore, even though she had thrown away any claim to reputation or modesty. She gave because she loved and thought nothing of jewels or money she might receive in return. Surely he must know? Yet it seemed he did not.

‘I shall go for a ride before breakfast,’ Rupert called over his shoulder as he dressed. ‘Stay in bed for a while longer. I will order the food to be brought up to us on my return.’

Morwenna did not answer him and then he was gone, the door closing with snap behind him. For a moment the angry tears stung her eyes and for two pins she would have thrown on her clothes and left the inn to find her own way to London.

Yet what good would that do her now? She’d given her innocence and her heart to a man who seemed not to realise it. In time he would no doubt cast her aside in pursuit of another love, but she would stay with him until the moment he broke her heart.

Yet she had no wish to stay in bed. Flinging aside the covers, she got up and dressed. It was
cool out for the month was drawing to its close and soon winter would be upon them.

Remembering the wild waves that raged about the cliffs below her home in mid-winter and the strong winds that had almost swept her off her feet, Morwenna felt a swathe of regret for her lost family. She would not mind if she did not see Michael much in future, but she was going to miss Jacques and Bess, too.

The inn yard was empty save for some ostlers sweeping debris from the cobbles and a dog nosing at a pile of straw. Leaving the inn yard, Morwenna walked into a little lane behind it and strolled towards a small wood. The birds were singing as they perched on branches above her head and it was a peaceful morning. Some of the pain Rupert’s careless words had inflicted eased away as she walked. Nothing was lost for, she’d known from the start that he would never offer her marriage.

She could run now while he was out riding, but if she did she would be alone and her heartbreak would begin immediately. No, she must take what she could from this relationship, even if her head was telling her she was a fool.

‘Are you telling me she is with you at the inn?’ Jacques looked at the other man, relief
washing over him. ‘Thank God! At least I know she is not lying at the side of some road with her throat cut.’

‘I told you I would find her and I shall protect her—you, too, if you will give me your word that you will not become involved in your brother’s schemes.’

Jacques looked uncomfortable, then, ‘I’ve seen Michael. He was furious that Morwenna had gone off and he blames you. For a moment I thought he would kill me, but it seems you are the one he intends to kill when he finds you.’

‘He may certainly try. I dare say I might feel the same in his shoes.’

‘What are your intentions towards my sister?’

‘I shall not desert her. She will be well cared for. I give you my word on it.’

‘You will not marry her?’

‘My family would not welcome the sister of a traitor. Had your brother not been on the verge of committing treason, it might have been different.’

Jacques cursed. ‘I could kill him myself for ruining her life.’

‘Morwenna is happy with our arrangement. She could never have expected to be the wife of a marquis, I think.’

Jacques glared at him. ‘She would never have looked so high, but she might have wed a good country squire had my father not lost his money.’

‘She will have everything my wife would have other than my name.’

‘What is all the rest worth without it? Morwenna imagines herself in love with you, Melford. She may be happy enough now, but what of the day you tire of her? How will she feel when you take a wife, as you surely must in time?’

Rupert frowned. ‘I have cousins enough to take my place. I had thought of marrying to get an heir, but it is different now.’

Jacques narrowed his gaze. ‘Do you care for her truly?’

‘As much as I have cared for any woman,’ Rupert admitted. ‘I can see no future in these discussions. The die is cast. It was in my mind to offer you a position should you wish to take it.’

‘Are you bribing me to go away and leave my sister to you?’

‘If that were my intention, I need not have told you that she was here. Come to the inn.
Have breakfast with us, unless you feel she has shamed you too much?’

‘I am not such a jackanapes. Morwenna is my sister. I love her. I would never censure her. If she is with you, it is because you make her happy.’

‘That is my intention.’ Rupert ran long fingers through his hair, which had blown into a tangle as he rode. ‘Michael told you nothing of his plans, I suppose?’

‘Nothing except that he seemed unusually on edge. I think he brought in a special cargo recently, for he warned me not to visit the caves. He impressed on me that it might be dangerous, though he would not say more.’

‘Dangerous?’ Rupert frowned. ‘It sounds to me that something is being prepared. Something that may cause much harm to others.’

‘I would like the position you spoke of,’ Jacques said. ‘But I must earn it first. Michael spoke of moving the goods. He also mentioned London, for he said it was his intention to search for Morwenna once his business was done. Do you know where you will be staying in London?’

‘Do you wish to tell him?’

‘I thought that I might follow him, try to discover
what his dangerous cargo is and what he and the others plan.’

‘Spy on your brother?’ Rupert looked at him hard. ‘Why would you do that?’