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Authors: Lynn Granville

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BOOK: Morgan the Rogue
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'No, not Maire,' he said, thinking of his mother as he had last seen her.  'Why not call her Ellen after your own mother?'

             
'If you wish it.'  Rosamund was puzzled.  She had thought he would like to call the child after his mother.  'Do you not think her beautiful?'

             
'She is lovely,' he said and touched a finger against the babe's fist.  To his surprise she caught it strongly.  He chuckled, feeling pleased.  'She looks so fragile but her grip is firm.'

             
'Do not be deceived by her looks,' Rosamund said understanding his reaction now.  'She will not die, Morgan.  She is always hungry and I have employed a wet nurse for my milk would not satisfy her.'

             
He nodded and smiled.  'Then we shall call her Ellen Maire of Caris,' he said and turned his eyes on her, searching her face.  'You are well, Rosamund?  You have recovered your own strength?'

             
'I am very well,' she told him.  'But I fear I have sad news for you.  I received word from your manor at Gruffudd.  They say that Maire will not live for many days.'

             
'When did this message come?'

             
'Only this morning.  I had planned to send a messenger to look for you, but I was not sure where you might be.'

             
'I have been with Owain, but he thinks I should return to the Brecon.'  He grinned.  'There is a new garrison, much stronger than before.  I think they mean business this time.'

             
'Take care, Morgan,' Rosamund cried for a chill had started at the nape of her neck.  'Fortune has been with you thus far, but I fear you grow too bold.  You know the English would hang you if they could.'

             
'That has always been the case,' he replied and his smile had vanished as he saw how anxious she was.  'I would not have you worry for me, my love.  You know that I cannot promise to return to you for my life may be at risk at any time – but I shall not grow careless.  My love for you makes me stronger.  I believe in my heart that we shall know peace and content one day.  Owain was close to despair last winter but now he is full of confidence.  Have faith, Rosamund.  I feel our time is close at hand.'

             
Rosamund went into his arms, hiding her fear as he kissed her.  She knew she must let him go for it had always been thus between them.  To weep would simply make it harder for them both.  Yet she had a terrible sense of impending danger.  Not for herself or her children but for him.

             
It was almost as if she heard Kestrel's voice warning her, yet she knew it was only in her mind.

             
'I have always known it must be so,' she agreed.  'I simply ask that you take care when you are at …Gruffudd Manor.'  The words were suddenly so clear that she could hear them.  She put a hand to her head, trying to hear more clearly.  'It is so strange.  I think…I have words in my head…Kestrel is telling me that you are in danger from an old enemy.'

             
'Rhys Llewelyn,' Morgan said and frowned.  He had tried so often to summon Kestrel but without success.  Now the healer had spoken to Rosamund.  'Yes, I shall take care, my love.  I promise you that all will be well.  You must not worry too much.'

             
Rosamund gave him the smile she knew he wanted from her.  Each time he left her it grew harder to let him go, tearing at her heartstrings, but she knew she must never let him see that their parting hurt her so deeply.  Morgan needed her to be brave and so she must, but inside she was weeping.

             
'I wonder why Kestrel came to you?' Morgan said and looked thoughtful.  'Why did he not speak to me?'

             
'It is not for us to question,' she said.  'And now you should leave, my lord.  If you delay you may not see Maire alive.'

             
'I had planned to spend a few days with you.'

             
'And now you must go.  I shall not try to hold you, Morgan.  I have my children and I know you will return when you can.'

             
He drew her into his arms, kissing her hungrily, wanting to deny his duty.  Would that he could stay with her and forget the world but he knew that he had to go to his mother.  She must be dying or she would not have sent for him.

             
'I would live with you always in peace and content if it were possible, Rosamund,' he said and touched her cheek with his fingertips.  As he gazed into her eyes he sensed the pain that this parting was causing her and guilt struck him to the heart.  She had given him so much and he had so little to give her in return.  'Take care of our children, Rosamund.  I shall be with you again as soon as I can – and perhaps then I can stay for longer.'

             
'Make no promises,' she warned him.  'Go now, Morgan.  Maire has so little time left to her.'

             
He kissed her once more and left her.  Rosamund watched him walk away.  Tears were stinging her eyes but she would not let them fall – until she was alone.

             
The life at Caris was often lonely and hard to bear when Morgan was away.  She had her women to keep her company but Alicia was married now and carrying Thomas Bridger's child.  They stayed with her out of loyalty but she knew that Alicia longed to return to her home to see her parents and show off her husband.  In the spring, after her child was born and she was strong again, Rosamund meant to tell her to go.

             
She could find other companions, though none would be like Alicia – and she still missed her good Margaret terribly.  There were times when she wished she could leave Caris and visit her other manors.  It would be pleasant to see old friends …to feel free again.  Yet she had chosen to leave Philip de Grenville of her own free will and that meant she must stay here for the moment.

             
Perhaps one day when the war was over…But when would that be?  She believed that the struggle might go on for years.  Morgan would never desert Owain and she could never leave him.  She must bear the loneliness of the months ahead and pray that he would return one day.

             
'Come back to me, my love,' she whispered to the empty room.  'For I could not bear it if you should die.'

             
She wished that Kestrel was still with them in this life for though she had heard his words so clearly in her mind they had done nothing but create terror in her heart.

             
Morgan was on his way to Gruffudd Manor to see his sick mother as was right and proper – but what would he find there?

*

 

 

 

'Do not send for Morgan.  I forbid it.'  Maire pushed away the broth Morwenna had made for her.  'He can do nothing and I do not want him here.  It is too dangerous…'

             
Maire knew that she was close to death and she did not fear it.  Indeed, she would welcome an end to her pain.  She had already lived with it for years and longed for peace.  In death she would find peace such as she had not known since she was a child – but of late there had been a growing fear for her son.

             
She suspected that Morwenna was plotting against him with Rhys Llewelyn.  Morwenna had become increasingly sly of late and Gwenny had told her that she was often unkind to the child.

             
Maire had tried to warn her son that Morwenna was bitter but she knew that he had not listened.  He had never listened.  But she could do nothing.  She was not sure that her fears were more than imagination for she was finding it difficult to hold on to reality these days, and she suspected that Morwenna gave her things to make her sleep.

             
'Leave me,' she said.  'I would rest.'

             
'You should eat a little,' Morwenna said.  'But I cannot make you.'

             
She went out carrying her bowl, taking it back to the kitchen.  The servants looked at her and she shook her head.

             
'She would eat nothing.  I think she was wandering in her mind again.  She has forgotten that she told me to send for Morgan.  I am going out now.  I need some fresh air.'

             
She left the house, feeling the tension mount inside her.  It was a week or more since she had sent for Morgan and there had been no word.  Surely he would come?  He could not ignore his mother's pleas.

             
She had sent her message despite Maire's insistence that he was not to be summoned.  Excitement warred with the fear inside her for she had planned it carefully with Rhys.

             
'It is the greatest good fortune,' Rhys had told her when she met with him some days earlier.  'I have discovered that Sir Philip de Grenville is with Richard Grey, who is the King's lieutenant in this part of Wales.  If I go to him he will be glad to pay for information.  He hates Morgan as much as we do.  He will use anything to force his wife into submission, and after his humiliation at Caris he must want to see Morgan hang.'

             
Morwenna felt a thrill of pleasure at his words.  At last!  She would have the revenge she had longed for at last.

             
Rhys was waiting for her in the appointed place.  She felt the cool breeze catch at her wimple and the chill of autumn bit into her flesh as for a moment the wind seemed to whirl about her fiercely.  She ran towards Rhys, allowing him to draw her into his arms and kiss her hungrily.

             
'What news?  Did you see Sir Philip?' she asked.  'What did he say?'

             
'He will arrange for you to keep Gruffudd Manor as your widow's right,' Rhys replied.  'And we shall be given the reward as soon as Morgan is taken.  He was as eager as I expected.  I almost pity Morgan.'

             
'Do not waste your pity,' she scorned.  'He deserves whatever the English do to him.  I hope they make him suffer before they hang him.'

             
Rhys felt oddly chilled as he looked at her.  What had happened to the innocent girl he had loved at Sycharth?  She was if anything more beautiful and he hungered for the moment when he could take her to his bed – yet something had changed in her.  He had fallen in love with a warm, passionate girl but Morwenna had become a hard and bitter woman.  He had known she hated Morgan but now he was seeing something in her he disliked.

             
'You are harsh, Morwenna.  I want him dead so that we may be together and enjoy this estate without fear – but I would give any man a clean death.'

             
'What does it matter how the English treat him?' she asked.  'We must hope that he comes soon.  How shall you warn Sir Philip?'

             
'I must stay close to the house for the next few days,' Rhys said.  'As soon as he arrives I shall go to Sir Philip.'

             
'Then I must go back.  If he should be there already I shall come to the door and shake out a white tunic.'

             
'Kiss me first…' Rhys drew her to him, his eyes suddenly hard and bright.  'Very soon now you shall be mine.  Do not think to cheat me of what you have promised, Morwenna.  If you do I shall kill you.'

             
'Do not be a fool,' she said.  'Without you I should be alone.  I have no wish to live alone for the rest of my life.  Come to me as soon as Morgan is taken.  When he is dead you shall be my husband.'

             
She left him then and began to walk back to the house.  Rhys was a fool.  She would marry him if she had to but she was tired of living as she had for so many months.  When they had the English gold as well as that Maire kept in her counter they could live as they pleased…but Maire might give it to Morgan if he came in time.

             
Morwenna was determined that he should not have that money.  It was hers by right.  She had kept Maire alive, tending her, washing her, clearing up her vomit when she was ill.  That money should be hers and she would take it while her mother-in-law was sleeping.  After all, Maire had no use for it now.'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THIRTEEN

 

Maire closed her eyes as the door of her chamber opened.  It was dark save for the light that filtered through the tiny slit in the wall of her chamber, but she knew it was Morwenna for the scent of her was imprinted on her senses.  She kept her eyes shut as her daughter-in-law came to the bed and peered down at her.  Why had Morwenna come to her chamber at this hour?  Most of the household was sleeping but Maire slept very little these days unless something was given to her in her food or drink to make her sleep.

             
'Are you awake, Maire?' Morwenna asked softly.

BOOK: Morgan the Rogue
12.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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