Morgan the Rogue (27 page)

             
'Trust me,' Rhys said.  'Next time I shall make certain.'  He drew her to him, breathing raggedly as he gazed into her face.  She could see the anger and pride in him and caught her breath.  Sometimes she was afraid of him!  He was ruthless, dangerous.  She would do better to walk away from him now, but she knew she would not.  Her life had been too empty of late.  'I want you, Morwenna.  Tell me it is me you love – tell me that you will be mine when he is dead!'  His fingers were digging into her flesh, bruising her.

             
'Kill him for me and I am yours,' she said, her eyes glittering as the excitement raced in her.  The words came of their own volition, surprising even her. 'I hate him and his woman.  Help me to be revenged on them, Rhys.  If you love me – kill them both.'

             
'I have never killed a woman.'  Rhys looked at her uneasily.  'You ask a terrible price, Morwenna.'

             
'If you loved me you would do it and not think twice.'  She pulled away, her beautiful face haughty and proud, her eyes scornful.  'But perhaps you have no stomach for it?'

             
'You know I would do anything for you!'  He looked down into her face hungrily.  When she looked at him that way he was driven near mad with his desire for her.

             
'Then I shall go to Maire Gruffudd and when she is dead I shall be mistress there.  Come to me when you have done as I ask and you shall be my husband.'

             
'You swear it?'

             
'I swear it,' Morwenna said.  She smiled at him, moving closer so that she could feel the heat of his breath on her face as she reached up to kiss him on the lips.  'She is naught to you, Rhys.  Kill her and Morgan and you shall have all you desire.'

             
'You are a witch!' Rhys said and caught her in a crushing embrace.  'I may burn in hell for my sins but I shall do as you ask.'

             
Morwenna smiled.  'Then I shall be waiting for you.'  She allowed him to kiss her but when she felt the heat of his passion burn against her she drew away.  'No, not yet.  I must not bear another child for Morgan has not been to my bed since…that night.  If he rejects me your plans would come to naught.  Come to me when they are dead, Rhys – and then I shall be yours.'

             
Rhys let her go.  He could have taken his will of her by force but he wanted so much more.  He had always coveted the rich land Morgan had neglected, knowing that he would never own such a manor.  As Morgan's cousin he had some right to it if Morgan was dead but others had as much claim.  Morwenna's right was the one that would stand in Welsh law, and as her husband he would own it through her.

             
'I shall come to you when I can,' he promised.  'Go back to your child now, Morwenna.  And remember that I love you.'

             
'I shall remember all that you have promised,' she said and smiled as she turned away.

             
As she walked back towards her house she was singing.  The sun was warmer now and the air tasted sweeter on her tongue.  She was alive again, had not felt this good in months.  Above her a bird sang his song of gratitude for the day, and her heart soared with it to the skies. Rhys had given his word that he would kill both Morgan and his woman!  She wanted to shout her triumph aloud, but knew that she must keep her excitement to herself.  She did not want to live at Oswestry alone all her life.  She wanted Rhys to be her husband – and he would be once Morgan was dead.

             
Entering the house, which was old and gloomy, the stone walls almost permanently damp, Morwenna was aware that something had changed.  The servants were scurrying about with a new purpose.  Her heart caught, beating fast so that she felt breathless.

             
'What has happened?' she demanded as a servant wench came running towards her.  'Have the English come?  Have they confiscated the estate?'

             
'No, mistress,' the girl said, her eyes sparkling.  'Your husband has arrived.  He has gone up to your solar to see the child.'

             
Morgan here!  Morwenna's heart did a rapid somersault.  How strange that both Rhys and Morgan should arrive on the same day!

             
She might so easily have been caught with her lover – but she had not.  She took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

             
Morgan could not know that she had been meeting Rhys for it had happened but once in all this time.  But why was he here?  Had he come to tell her that he was casting her off?  Yet he had given his word that he would not shame her in the eyes of the world.

             
As she walked into her chamber Morwenna saw that her husband was holding Morganna in his arms.  The child was gurgling with laughter and patting at him with her chubby hands.  It was a picture that would touch most hearts and she paused for a moment, recognising the tenderness in Morgan's eyes and realising that he truly cared for the child.  For a moment she was overcome with regret and remorse.  Why had she betrayed him?  If only she could go back…but it was too late.  Far too late.

             
The tenderness faded from his face as he looked up and saw her.  He handed the child back to its nurse, who discreetly left the room.

             
'Your child grows, Morwenna.'

             
'Your child, Morgan.  She has your hair and eyes.'

             
'Perhaps.'  He frowned.  'Have no fear, I shall not deny her or you.  I have not come for that.'

             
'Why have you come?'

             
'To ask if you would like to stay with my mother for a while,' he said.  'It is dangerous here in these troubled times.  I think you would be safer at Gruffudd.'

             
'You are considerate,' Morwenna said, her eyes downcast.  'I thank you for your kindness.  I should be pleased to visit your mother.  It is often lonely here.'

             
'Yes, I imagined it might be,' Morgan replied.  'And my mother would like to see the child before she dies.'

             
'Your mother is ill?'  Morwenna pretended not to know.  'I am sorry to hear that, Morgan.'

             
'I dare say it would be a comfort to her to have you there,' Morgan said.  'If it will suit you I should like to leave in the morning.  You need only bring what the baggage mules will carry.  Your possessions may follow in the wagons.'

             
'I shall tell Gwenny to prepare,' Morwenna said.  'Morganna may travel in a litter with her.  She is almost weaned and will be no trouble on the journey.'

             
'I shall escort you,' Morgan said.  'But you have your servants to attend you and I may leave you to camp and rest from time to time.  I have other matters that need my attention as we travel.'

             
'Of course.'  She inclined her head.  'I am well provided for.  I shall trouble you as little as possible, my husband.'

             
'Then I shall leave you to make your arrangements.'

             
'Thank you, my husband.'

             
Morwenna felt the anger rise inside her once more.  Oh, how she hated him!  For a moment she had felt regret and remorse but the moment had passed.  He cared nothing for her.  If he had not been travelling in the same direction he would not have bothered to come at all, merely sending word that he thought she should go to his mother.

             
He had probably been thinking of his mother rather than her – that she would make a good nurse for the sick woman!

             
Her anger abated slightly as she remembered the plans she had made with Rhys Llewelyn.  Soon both the mother and the son would be dead.

*

Morgan left the house and walked towards the woods.  He needed some air!  The smell of the bracken was strong and he noticed that it had been trampled recently by a horse.  Someone had tethered a restive animal here not long ago.  He saw evidence of its presence, the droppings still steaming.

             
Glancing over his shoulder he looked for signs of more horses but there were none.  One rider then.  Why should one man tether a horse here when the house was so close?

             
Morgan frowned as he began to look about him for more clues.  Had he been followed here?  He knew that the English had put a price of ten gold nobles on his head, which was a fortune to most.  Catching sight of something blue he plucked a piece of cloth from a bramble.  Morwenna had been wearing blue when she came in – and she had looked excited.

             
Had she been meeting someone?  It would not surprise him.  It was lonely in this isolated house and she had few friends to visit her.  He knew that she was not the kind of woman who would be happy to live alone for long.

             
Rhys!  She was meeting Rhys Llewelyn.  Morgan knew it instinctively.  What had they been plotting together here – and for how long had they been meeting in secret?

             
His brow wrinkled in thought.  His anger was for her slyness rather than of a jealous nature.  He had given her the freedom to go with Rhys – why should she appear to be an obedient wife when she wanted another man?  Unless that was not all she wanted?

             
If Rhys had always been jealous of him might he not covet all that he had?  Not that he owned anything much of value.  The estate was Maire's for her lifetime and if she died then the English would confiscate it as they had Orlane.

             
A little smile touched Morgan's lips.  He would say nothing of this to Morwenna now, but before he left Gruffudd Manor he would make sure that his wife understood her best hope of securing a home there was to keep Maire alive for as long as possible…

*

'The child is beautiful,' Maire said as she stood with her son gazing down at the sleeping babe.  He had brought his wife and child to her that morning and now she knew that he was thinking of leaving soon.  'She reminds me of my mother sometimes – but perhaps that is just foolishness on my part.'

             
'I have never known you to be foolish,' Morgan said.  'If you think she is like your mother then perhaps she is.'

             
Maire glanced up, looking into his eyes.  'You are not sure the child is yours.'

             
'Of course she is mine – How could it be otherwise?'

             
Maire shook her head but said nothing.  'The babe is beautiful and innocent, my son.  She needs to be loved as we all do.'

             
'You have not known much love since you came to this house.'

             
'I have loved you.'  Maire saw the denial in his face and smiled oddly.  'You may not always have thought so, but it has been so, my son.  We do not all show our love in the same ways.'

             
'You must take care of yourself while I am away,' he told her.  'Morwenna will be company for you.'

             
'Your wife…' Maire frowned.  'She is bitter, Morgan.  You have hurt her with your neglect.  If she has harmed you…'

             
'I have not said so.'

             
'Not in words but it is easy to see in the way you look at her, in your manner towards her.  She knows you have no love for her and it has turned her against you.'

             
'Then be careful of her,' Morgan said.  'Shall I take her away again – send her back to Oswestry?'

             
'I do not fear her,' Maire said, 'for my death is closer now and the pain comes more frequently.  She can do me little harm – but she may seek to harm you if she can.'

             
'I am aware of her feelings towards me – and of other things,' Morgan replied.  'Do not concern yourself for me, Mother.  But look after Morganna if you will.  The child is innocent and I would not have harm come to her.'

             
'When do you leave?'

             
'This evening,' Morgan replied.  'I have people I must see – but I may come again.  I expect to be in this area for some months.  If it is possible I shall visit you and the child sometimes.'

             
Morwenna stood outside the chamber and listened as they spoke.  She was angry that Morgan should dismiss her so easily – one day he would remember his words and wish that he had taken more notice of his mother's warning.

             
Strangely enough, she had discovered that she did not hate Maire.  Indeed, the woman's welcome had been kind and the warmth of her embrace had comforted her.  Maire knew that Morgan suspected the child was not his, but she had not held that against his wife.