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Authors: Lynn Granville

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BOOK: Morgan the Rogue
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'Yes, Father.  I know that our kinsman has much on his mind.'

             
'It was my intention to go home,' her father told her.  'But now that Morgan is expected any day we shall stay here so that your betrothal may take place before we return to our own house.'

             
'When shall we be married, Father?'

             
'Perhaps within two months, before Christmas certainly.'  Hywell smiled at her.  'Owain's plans are for next year and therefore your wedding will be soon.  Tell me, does this marriage please you?'

             
'I think so,' she replied uncertainly.  'I do not dislike Morgan Gruffudd, though I do not know him well.'

             
'From what Owain has told me of the young man I believe he will be a worthy husband for you, daughter.  You must make up your mind to the match and forget this other man.  I want your promise that you will not do anything that might disgrace both you and our family, Morwenna.  I trust there has been nothing between you and Llewelyn that I should know about?'

             
She blushed and looked away from her father's stern gaze.

             
'I promise I have done nothing that could cause you shame, Father.  Nor shall I…'

             
'I believe you, child – but you must remember that a careless smile or a word of encouragement may be taken to mean more than it does.  Master Llewelyn was passionate in his avowal and I would not see a quarrel between him and Morgan over you, my daughter.'

             
With that he dismissed her, and Morwenna walked away with her head bent.  She knew that her father was right to chide her for she had given Rhys encouraging smiles that had led him to believe his love for her was returned.  He would be angry and hurt that his suit had been rejected.  She had not meant to hurt him, for she liked him and would have wed him had he been able to support a wife in the manner to which she was accustomed.

             
She knew that Rhys would be waiting for her to return from her walks, and that he would do his best to persuade her to defy her father's wishes.  Therefore it might be best if she did not go walking alone for the time being.  She would stay close to her cousins and give Rhys no chance to speak to her alone.

             
She wondered how long it would be before Morgan returned, and her heart raced as she thought of being his wife.  The idea made her breathless and she knew that he affected her powerfully, though she could not tell what her feelings for him truly meant.  Did this excitement inside her mean that she loved him – or was she a little afraid of his bold eyes and the laughter she had seen in them?

             
And what did he think of her?  He had seemed to hint that he would like to know her intimately, and his words had made her feel hot all over – but did he love her?

 

*

 

 

It was foolish, Morgan thought as he rode towards his kinsman's house, to let the sadness in a woman's eyes haunt him.  The lady of Caris was beautiful but she was out of his reach, above him in station and married to another.  And she was English.  He had vowed to serve Owain and to rid Wales of the English yoke.  He must put all thought of Rosamund from his mind, forget her – forget that he had ever seen her, touched her, held her close to his heart, inhaled the sweet perfume that was hers alone.

             
He had been a damned fool to let her beneath his skin!  His head told him that he must forget her, but she was there inside him, an ache in his heart, a burning in his loins, a part of him whether he willed it or no.

             
He shook his head grimly.  Rosamund was hardly aware of him save as a man who had once done her a service.  Her heart belonged to a king – a king who had lost his crown and was now a sorry prisoner in the Tower of London.  Who knew what his fate might be in the future?  It was doubtful that Henry Bolingbroke would allow him to live for long, for while he survived there was always the danger that others might rebel in his name.

             
For the moment Henry had his hands full making new alliances and visiting the various regions of his country, for it was already clear that there would be turbulence amongst dissatisfied nobles.  Owain would be pleased to hear some of the news Morgan carried, for the more trouble Henry's own people caused him, the less time he would have to waste in subduing the Welsh.

             
As he rode across the drawbridge at his kinsman's manor, Morgan caught sight of a young woman walking with companions in the courtyard gardens.  Her laughter was joyous and made him glance her way a second time.  For a moment as she smiled at him he could not place her, and then he remembered a moment on the riverbank and the thought brought a gleam to his eyes.  Ah yes, Morwenna Gethin – the woman Owain had suggested he should marry on his return.  He had forgotten her, but now he saw that she was comely and it was good to hear her laughter.  It might be for the best if their wedding were to take place as soon as possible.  Perhaps that way he would find it easier to put Rosamund's haunting eyes from his mind.

             
He sent her a flashing grin not guessing that he had made her heart flutter wildly and strode on into the house.  Owain was waiting for him in the hall for he had sent word of his coming a day or so earlier.

             
'Well met, Morgan Gruffudd,' Owain said as he saw him and came to greet him.  'I have heard of your exploits for my spies gave me news of you when you rode with the Lady de Grenville to Conway.'

             
'I thought they might be your men,' Morgan said with a grin.  'I left word in the ways we spoke of, though I was not sure you would receive my messages.'

             
'I have known of your comings and goings,' Owain said, his eyes narrowed.  'You returned to Caris before you came here?'

             
'To give the lady a message from her king.'

             
'You were with him when he was captured I believe?  And wounded?'

             
'A slight wound that troubled me little,' Morgan said unwilling to mention Kestrel for some reason unless Owain knew of him.  'I returned to Flint and from there made my way to Chester to discover what I could of Richard's whereabouts.  When I learned he was on his way to the Tower I knew that nothing could be done to save him.'

             
'If he is not already dead he will be soon,' Owain replied.  'I had no love for him, but it is a sorry thing to be betrayed by those you trust.'

             
'Aye, that it is,' Morgan said.  'As a king he was the oppressor of my country, but I respected the man.'

             
'It is a wise man who learns to respect the enemy,' Owain said.  'If your travels taught you no more, the time was not wasted.'

             
'I have learned many things,' Morgan said.  'Henry is victorious now but there are those who distrust him.'

             
'With good cause I dare say.'

             
'I believe there may be trouble from certain quarters…'  Owain arched his brows.  'It is not certain but from something Richard told me just before he was taken…I believe that perhaps the Percies may find reason to quarrel with Bolingbroke before too long has passed.'

             
A certain gleam in Owain's eyes made Morgan suspect that what he has just told his kinsman was not entirely unknown to him.

             
'You have done well, Morgan,' Owain said and smiled.  'When I sent you away to gather information it was more a test of your ingenuity than any real need for news.  As you must realise I have a vast army of spies within Wales and the border towns.  I have been making plans for a while and very soon now I shall make my first move.'

             
'It cannot be soon enough for me!'

             
'Your loyalty remains with me?'

             
'Have you cause to question it?'

             
'No, I merely ask.  The time is coming that will test any man's loyalty to the utmost.  I would have only friends about me.'

             
Morgan nodded, eyes narrowed as he looked into the other's face.

             
'What of Rhys Llewelyn?  Has he proved himself?'

             
'He is a good swordsman.  My captains have only good to say of him.'

             
'And yet you doubt him?'  Morgan frowned as Owain was silent.  'I believe him to be a good friend, but if you think otherwise you should send him away.'

             
'Nay, for it may be imagination,' Owain replied.  'I feel something in his presence yet cannot lay my finger on it.  Let him stay for I think he means me no harm.  If the time came when things were different…'

             
'I have already sworn to defend you before any other.'

             
'It would be a hard thing to kill a friend,' Owain said and smiled oddly.  'Let us pray that it will not be put to the test.'  Morgan would have protested his loyalty again but Owain waved his protest away.  'It is well that you are home again, for I would have the matter of your betrothal to the lady Morwenna settled.  You should marry before Christmas, and make your home near by.  I have already begun negotiations for a house and land in a valley not too far from here.  Knowing you have no love for husbandry of the land, I have bought property that will bring you revenues rather than crops.'

             
'I thank you for your thought,' Morgan said, laughing softly.  'I see that you believed some of my mother's tales after all.'

             
'You have passed the test I set for you,' Owain said, 'and we shall have no more secrets between us.  From now on you are as a brother to me – and with God's help we shall make Wales free again.'

             
'Amen to that,' Morgan said.  'I pray for that day with all my heart.'

             
'And I, my friend – and now I think I shall send for Morwenna and tell her that she is to make ready for her betrothal on the morrow.'

             
'And I shall go in search of Rhys and tell him that I am home again.'

 

 

*

Morwenna's heart was fluttering as her father came to meet her that morning.  She was dressed in a new white gown embroidered with gold and beads at the hem and on the sleeves, her hair hanging down her back and covered by a tiny cap of jewelled mesh with a fine veil.

             
'You look beautiful, daughter,' Hywell told her as she took his hand and allowed him to lead her towards the dais at the end of the room where the ceremony of her betrothal was to take place before a small group of Owain's family and friends.  'Do not look so nervous.  Owain thinks highly of your husband, and from what I know of him you have naught to fear.'

             
'I am not afraid, Father,' she replied in a voice that was hardly above a whisper.  'Just a little nervous.'

             
'As is right and proper.'  He smiled at her, well pleased by her answer, which showed she was modest.

             
Morwenna's hand trembled slightly on his arm as he led her to stand beside Morgan.  Owain was there together with the priest who was to bless them and conduct the ceremony of betrothal, which was almost as binding as the wedding itself.

             
She glanced at Morgan and found that he was smiling at her in a way that set her fears to rest.  His blue eyes made her heart beat all the faster but it was for a different reason and she found that she wished this was indeed her wedding day.  She lifted her head, meeting his gaze proudly and yet with pleasure and heard the soft chuckle in his throat as he sensed a challenge in her.

             
The ceremony was brief, and afterwards there was special wine to be drunk and all the good wishes of her family to receive.  She was told of the house and lands Owain was to settle on her, which would be the property of her husband, of course.  She was also given several small gifts from Owain's wife and children together with kisses and smiles from all those present.  And Morgan gave her a beautiful cross of garnets set in silver, for which she thanked him with a kiss on the cheek, blushing at the laughter this occasioned.

             
In all the happy confusion of such a gathering it was the more chilling to turn and find Rhys Llewelyn staring at her with such anger that she felt shocked.  It was a surprise that he should be here – why was he?  Yet as Morgan turned to him with a grin, his expression changed and became easy again, leaving Morwenna to wonder.  If he was so angry that she was betrothed to Morgan and not him – why was he pretending to be Morgan's friend?

             
She looked away and when she looked for him again he had gone.  Her heart ceased to beat so wildly and she was smiling once more as she heard her husband to be addressing her.

BOOK: Morgan the Rogue
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