The McKinnon (22 page)

“Morgan, Baby, you are my wife.”

She sat in shock, unable to register the small four words he had just spoken to her.

“
You are my wife
”, he had said.

She shot up out of the chair and moved behind it placing a barrier between them.

“How dare you play with me,” she cried.

“It is no joke, Morgan. I am your husband and you are my wife.”

“You will explain this in terms that are clear and concise. I will have the truth!” Morgan was angry. Her world was spinning out of control.

Gently, Nic tried calming her. “It is your right, Morgan to know the truth. Therefore, I will give you the truth. I know that I should have told you sooner, but the time never seemed right. I am sure seeing how upset you are that I should have told you the moment you were conscious and let you deal with it as best you could.” Nic took a few tentative steps toward her and continued. “For God’s sake, you almost died on me. I felt you needed to be stronger. I wanted to tell you before we left for London. I came upstairs with you to tell you the night I received Henry’s summons. It was wrong not to tell you, and I was selfish and got sidetracked the night we had together. I should have told you sooner.”

“What have you done? What did you do? Tell me, damn it!” She was panicking and instinctively she already knew. She was standing with her fists balled at her sides, and Nic wanted desperately to go to her. Knowing it was not wise to try to touch her, he just gave her what she asked for and had deserved to know long before now.

“After you took off that night, we found you the next morning in such a state that we all felt you would not survive. You had lost so much blood and the fever was raging in you. We held out little hope for your living through the day. I had Connor call for his priest to do your last rites. As he was leaving, Connor said something to me that got me to thinking. He asked me when had I ever given up anything belonging to me without a fight? Well, you belonged to me, and I was going to fight for you. When the priest came, I had him marry us. You were mine by right. I had the King’s decree, and I knew if you died, Brentwood would have gained the prize. I did not want him to win because you would not want him to win. I married you to be able to give Seabridge to my King and have someone there worthy of it.” He took a long draw off the wine and continued. “The cross you wear is my wedding gift to you. When I placed it into your hand, I realized I was not going to let you die. It was unthinkable to me. I made a promise to God for saving your life, Morgan, and I intend to keep it. I knew you were running from something or someone. I figured that someone was Brentwood and that something was captivity. You ran from me, too. You were willing to die for your freedom, so I gave it to you.”

She was so angry Nic could see her shaking with it as she stood there with hands on her hips and eyes on fire.

“So . . . tell me just so I’m clear: How exactly do you think you gave me my freedom by binding me in a marriage that you know I never wanted!”

“I had plans on disposing of Brentwood, and then leaving you at Seabridge to do as you please. My name would always protect you. You will no longer be a pawn or be in danger of being forced into an unwanted marriage.”

“No, I suppose not. How could I possibly be forced into an unwanted marriage when the deed has already been done,” she retorted. Yet, somehow it did not ring quite true. “I thought I knew you! How could you do this to me? How?”

“Morgan, you do know me. I will not be cruel to you. I will not lock you in the tower room or in the cellar. And since you already have a husband there can be no other. The King will not allow it, nor will I. I made a promise to you and I am prepared to let you have your freedom. The marriage will stand, so the only thing to do will be to let you live your own life free of me. I have already asked the King for an annulment, but he has refused since we freely consummated the marriage.”

“Well, at least one of us was freely consummating a marriage. I was just being a romantic little fool." Quickly what he had just said sank in. "You asked for an annulment?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re leaving me at Seabridge and going about your merry way? You’re free to go about your business unfetter by a wife. Yet I on the other hand, am not free. I would sit behind walls of stone year after year in a castle I despise, and you dare to call that freedom? Nic, you have accomplished nothing because after ten years if I have no children, the King could marry me off again, anyway. Unless we have children, your gallant gesture is for nothing, and at this point, it is very probable we will never have babies because I would not let you near me if my life depended on it!”

Her defense mechanisms began failing her for the first time in years. Her chest felt tight, her head pounding, pulse racing. As she looked at her husband realization began to dawn.

The silence was deafening as Morgan walked over to Nic. Crossing her arms, calmly and softly, she cocked her head to the side.

“I was the
nasty business
you were coming to take care of at Seabridge before heading to your home in the north.”

“You were to be my bride. I was on my way to claim you.”

“Tell me, McKinnon, exactly when did you realize I wasn’t a boy?” She needed the total truth from him.

“It is of no consequence when I figured it out.”

“Who are you to say it is of no consequence? It is of consequence to me! When, Nic?”

“Morgan, will you please just let it go?” Nic asked.

“Why should I let it go? Maybe because you know the answer could tarnish your spotless reputation of honor and justice? When?” she demanded.

“From the moment you gave me your name,” Nic’s flat reply could not have hurt her any more.

She looked into his eyes. Yes, she saw remorse. She did not care if Nic had finally decided to come clean or that he was sorry.

She felt like the fool in a game she would never win. And for the first time in her life, Morgan knew bone deep resentment. She felt resentment for being a woman, resentment for her parents dying, resentment for her King not living up to his word, and resentment at her husband for not being honest with her.

“You knew and you played with me. I guess you felt that was for my own good as well?” She did not wait for an answer, already knowing what that answer would be. “So, you were on your way not to claim Morgan Pembridge. You were on your way to lay claim to the prize I was to give you. The reward was the title of Duke of Seabridge and all the spoils for your honorable and faithful
service to our King. You were on your way to claim a piece of land. You could have cared less about the woman behind the walls.”

“Morgan, how was I to know you would be so perfect for me,” Nic asked, knowing she was hitting very close to the truth of that day on the road to Seabridge.

“You never had any intention of living with me, did you? You were on your way to your lands in the north when you found me. You said you had nasty business to attend to before continuing North. You were going to marry me and then go about your merry way. Therefore, either way, you get your freedom. I’ll bet you’re sorry you married me since I lived.”

“Don’t ever talk like that. I am sorry our marriage happened the way it did, but I’m not sorry for the act. That, Morgan, I'll never be.” Nic felt her slipping away from him.

“No, I’m sure you are not. Why should you be? You have total and irrefutable claim to one of the largest and most prosperous Dukedoms in the entire King’s realm. You are an extremely wealthy man because of this joining of our bodies. For a second born son with no prospects of land of his own, this is quite a coup wouldn’t you say, my Lord. No, that is wrong. I stand corrected. It is Your Grace, the Seventh Duke of Seabridge.” She curtsied deep and gracefully. Rising she looked at him squarely. “Who else knows of our marriage?”

Nic didn’t answer. What could he say?

“So, that is how it is. I’m the last to know.”

It was a statement not a question. Once again she began to pace the room then she stopped and slowly turning to face her husband. “You asked me to trust you, McKinnon. I did. Such the fool I have become. You have taught me a valuable lesson today. I guess I should thank you.”

Nic saw her emotional walls erecting around Morgan, the drawbridges lifting and the portcullis gates descending. Not only was she slipping away from him, but he was losing her. He walked over to her then placed his hands on her stiff shoulders.

“Get your hands off me.” She seethed and pushed his hands and moved away, turning her back to him as she moved deeper into the room.

“Morgan, I leave in hours. Please don’t leave it like this between us. There is much to talk about. We need to settle where you will stay until I get back. You are my wife and I want you somewhere safe. I could be gone for months.” The silence was drawing out between them. “Morgan, please, say something.”

Finally turning, she faced him, tears of agony and betrayal streaming down her face. “You want me to say something? Okay, get out and take this with you.” Reaching up she yanked the cross off her neck. Throwing it at him, she hit him square in the chest. Had it been a dagger it would have pierced his heart. Nic grabbed the cross before it hit the floor.

Holding it, his clenched fist dropped to his side. He studied her face as he would any opponent for any sign of relenting. He saw none, and as a soldier knew, retreat was his only option. He had lost the battle. He was not so sure he had not also lost the war.

“As you wish, my lady,” he said quietly giving her a sweeping bow and left the bedroom then gently closed the door behind him. She crumpled to the floor and felt her world collapse on her as the latch quietly clicked shut.

“Cullen, you must stay here and keep an eye on her. I have hurt her deeply,” Nic confessed. He could no longer hear her crying through the bedroom door as he had when he stood in front of the lock door on two previous attempts to talk to her.

"I told you so,” Cullen said, hating to be the one to say he told him what was going to happen.  He knew Morgan was the one to suffer for it, and over the last few weeks he had come to care for her a great deal.

“So, Lady Morgan didn’t take kindly to being played the fool?”

Nic nodded. “No, she did not. I’m afraid, I may have lost her. She erected defenses around herself which have been honed from years of practice and unfortunately, I am not in a position to lay siege to her, metaphorically speaking.”

“Well, at least the truth is out in the open, and she will come to terms. Morgan is intelligent and she does care about you. You'll have to give her time, Nic.”

“She trusted me, damn it, and I threw that trust right back in her face.” Nic ran his hands through his hair again. “Will you stay?” he asked Cullen. “I know guard duty is not what a young man would like in a detail, but I need a trusted man to keep her safe.”

“She is important to you. So I'll stay. Nevertheless, I would have stayed anyway, even had you not asked. She is important to me, too, and I’m well aware of the dangers still posed to her.”

Nic began to scowl at his younger sibling. He had never experienced rivalry with Cullen before, but he was not going to leave Morgan in her current state of vulnerability so a man could take advantage of her. In addition, Nic knew she liked Cullen a great deal. She may love her husband, but she did not like him at the moment.

“Now, don’t look at me like that, Nic. Yes, I love her, but not as you love her. She is your wife. We are family.”

Nic surveyed his younger brother’s face and saw nothing there to give him pause, and at this point, Nic had no choice. His King had called him to arms. Morgan could not come with him. Leaving her behind was the only option he had available to him.

Nic tried the door to her room and found it unlocked. A wave of panic struck him hard and he began thinking she'd fled the castle. However, as he looked around, he found her things were still in place and the tray of untouched food sat where it had been placed.

She must have let the servants in to deliver the food and failed to bolt the door behind them. For so many years, she had others locking her in, it was not occurring to her to do the locking herself. He made a mental note to tell Cullen to watch for that.

He saw her bedroom door ajar and quietly made his way across the room to see if by chance he could have one last chance to talk to her. He hated leaving with things as they were between them. Expecting another bout of words with her, he slowly pushed open the door. He didn't see her at first then he spotted her on the floor by the fire.

Nic smiled ruefully. Things have come full circle, he thought, kneeling down and carefully picking up his exhausted bride from her pallet. He gently laid her on the same bed he had declared his love to her.

Maybe it was still not too late for them. Quickly, he drew out parchment and ink and followed his heart.

He placed the note on the pillow next to her. It ripped at his heart to know he was the cause of her distress. Maybe he would do it all again, but he certainly would do it differently. Cullen said she would see the light, and he had to have faith in Cullen's words.

Quickly, Nic pulled off his cross that he'd had the gold smith repair and put it next to the note. Lovingly, he brushed her locks back from her forehead as he leaned down and kissed her tenderly.

Standing beside the bed, Nic wondered if he would ever see her again. It had never bothered him before to go do his duty for his King. It never occurred to him he had any reason not to go. He knew that he had no choice other than to answer his King’s calling, so go he would. However, now he had a reason to come home. As he looked down at his sleeping wife, he vowed to return to her.

Cullen was waiting for him as he exited the private chamber.