His thoughts were interrupted when the door was opened and Richard
   entered the refectory from the garden.  Behind him was Adrianna,
   pushing his chair.  Both of them had smiles on their flushed faces. 
   And both seemed oblivious to the fact that their hair curled damply
   from the rain and that their clothes were plastered to their bodies.
   "Mon Dieu."  Madeline got to her feet.
   "You will catch your death in those wet clothes."
   "Oui."  Adrianna smiled at her.
   "Look."  She held out the rose that Richard had given her.
   "Richard has grown a new strain of rose.  This is the first bloom."
   Madeline stared at her shy little sister.  Never before had she seen
   her look so radiant.  Or so animated.
   "It is beautiful."
   "You will excuse our appearance," Richard said, bowing slightly to the
   queen.
   "It is raining outside."
   "Really?  I had not noticed."  Elizabeth swallowed the smile that
   touched her lips.
   "Not hard, I hope."
   "Just a fine mist.  A lovely fine mist.  The kind of rain one might
   enjoy walking in."  He smiled at Adrianna, then seemed to catch
   himself.
   "We must change clothes."
   "Of course."  Elizabeth lifted her hand in a regal gesture.
   "I would not want you to stay in those uncomfortable garments."
   When the two had left, everyone burst into gales of laughter.
   Elizabeth turned to Morgan.
   "It is as you said earlier, my friend.
   Everyone has gone mad.  "
   Morgan stared after his brother and the French lass.
   "So it would seem."
   "Come," Elizabeth called to her ladies.
   "We will retire to the sitting chamber until the rain stops.  Brenna,
   join us."
   Reluctantly Brenna joined the cluster of laughing, talking women.  She
   would have rather stayed with Morgan.  But the queen's request was a
   royal command.  To refuse was unthinkable.
   When they were gone, Morgan sat alone, staring into the flames of the
   fire, deep in thought.
   Dinner with the queen was always a formal affair.  Elizabeth and her
   companions had brought their most elegant gowns and spent hours
   preparing themselves for the evening.
   In their chambers, Morgan and Brenna were grateful for some time alone,
   away from the prying eyes of the others.
   While Brenna allowed Rosamunde to help her into her gown, she was
   achingly aware of the man who awaited her, just beyond the door in the
   sitting chamber.
   "Your hair, my lady."
   "It is fine, Rosamunde.  Do not fuss so."
   "Aye, my lady."
   As the servant turned away, Brenna caught her hand.
   "I did not mean to be short with you."  Her eyes danced with
   unconcealed ardor.
   "It is just that I..."
   "I understand, my lady.  My Lord Grey awaits you just as
   impatiently."
   With a conspiratorial smile, the servant was gone.
   Without even taking time to study her reflection in the looking glass,
   Brenna opened the door.  Morgan turned from the fireplace.
   Her gown was deep purple velvet, with a low neckline.  The skirt fell
   in soft folds from the narrow waist to the tips of her pale kid
   slippers.  The sleeves were inset with jewel- encrusted bands.
   As she walked closer Morgan reached inside his tunic and removed a
   velvet pouch.  When he handed it to her, she lifted wide questioning
   eyes to him.
   "I noticed that you are the only lady here with no jewelry.  I want you
   to have these, my lady."
   Brenna loosened the piece of velvet and caught her breath at the
   glittering jewels wrapped inside.  There was a necklace of diamonds
   surrounding an amethyst as large as a hen's egg.  The matching earrings
   were clusters of diamonds and amethyst that caught the light of the
   fire and seemed to glow with their own heat.
   "I cannot possibly accept these, Morgan."
   "But why?"
   She tried to hand the jewelry to him, but he refused to take it.
   "I am not yet your wife.  It would not be right to accept such a
   splendid gift."
   "But it would make me happy."
   "And it would make me very uncomfortable."
   His voice grew soft.
   "Will you tell me why, Brenna?"
   She swallowed.
   "There are those who will think I--sold my favors for a handful of
   jewels."
   "I care not what others say.  Nor should you."
   She studied the jewels in her hand.
   "You are too generous, Morgan.
   These must be worth at least a king's ransom.  "
   "Or a Scots chieftain."  He took the necklace from her hand and
   fastened it around her throat.
   "These were given to my father by a grateful King Henry.  They were my
   mother's favorite pieces."
   Brenna touched a hand to the jewels at her throat.
   "Then I shall treasure them, my lord."
   "Not nearly as much as I treasure the woman who wears them."
   "But I would prefer not to wear them until after we are wed."
   "And I would prefer to see you wear them tonight."
   He brought his lips to her throat and felt the need rising.  As she
   affixed the earrings he allowed his hands to move slowly along the
   slope of her shoulders.
   "How soft you are.  How beautiful."  He felt her shiver beneath his
   soft caress.
   "Would the queen mind if her host was late to sup?"  he muttered
   thickly against her neck.
   Brenna laughed.
   "You cannot be serious."
   He turned her into his arms and stared down at her with a look that
   left her no doubt as to his meaning.
   "All day I have thought of nothing but you."
   He bent his head and nibbled at her throat.  With a little sigh she
   arched her neck, loving the feel of his lips on her skin.  "And tonight
   I fear the queen will linger below stairs long into the night.  Unlike
   us, she has no reason to hurry to her bed."
   "Though the evening will be unbearably long, what can we do about
   it?"
   "This."  His hands moved to the buttons of her gown.
   "Morgan."  As he slid the gown from her shoulders, she stifled a
   gasp.
   "The queen will be furious if we keep her waiting."
   "Aye.  But we will be so happy, love.  And we will only be a little
   late."
   When he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed, she
   pressed her lips to his throat to stifle her laughter as they once more
   tumbled into a world of exquisite pleasure.
   "I am jealous," the queen said, staring at the jewels that adorned
   Brenna's throat and earlobes.
   "Your jewelry outshines even mine."
   "I am told they were a gift from your father."  Selfconsciously Brenna
   touched a hand to her throat as she took a seat beside Morgan at the
   table.
   "Aye.  And though I have heard about the splendid Grey jewels, I have
   never before had occasion to see them.  They are magnificent.  You must
   please Morgan very much," the queen added slyly.
   Brenna felt the heat rise to her cheeks.
   To cover her embarrassment, Morgan said, "Brenna did not wish to wear
 &nb 
					     					 			sp; them tonight.  She thought them too opulent for her taste.  But I
   persuaded her to wear them for just this one night to please me.  Then
   they can be put away until our betrothal."
   Across the table, Lord Windham studied Morgan and Brenna through
   narrow, hate-filled eyes.  It was obvious that these two had become
   lovers.  They flaunted their intimacy in his face.  In the face of
   everyone in the room.  How he hated Morgan Grey.  All his life he had
   had everything he had ever wanted.  The most beautiful women.  The most
   exotic jewels.  This fine estate.  But the day was soon coming when
   Grey would see everything in his life turn to ashes.
   "I am disappointed by all this rain," the queen was saying.  As they
   enjoyed a late supper, she stared out at the gloomy sky.
   "I had hoped to hunt."
   "The weather is the one thing in England that does not obey your
   command," Morgan said.
   "Her Majesty will find a way to bring even that errant subject to its
   knees," Charles said with a laugh.
   "Would that I could."  Elizabeth tasted the tender young duckling and
   felt her mood lighten.
   "If we cannot hunt, then we must find another means of entertainment.
   Richard, did I not see a chess set in the library?"
   "Aye, Majesty.  You did."  Beside him, Adrianna sat quietly, content to
   have her hand held firmly in his.  They thought that the table linens
   hid their hands from view.  But everyone at the table was aware of the
   way they sat, shoulders brushing, gazes darting at one another.
   "Then I challenge you to a chess match after we sup."
   "I accept your challenge.  But be prepared.  Though I am your loyal
   subject, I will not deliberately let you win."
   "If you did, it would be no challenge.  But I warn you, my handsome
   friend, I do not know how to lose."
   Richard's eyes crinkled with a smile.
   "Perhaps tonight you shall have your first lesson in losing,
   Majesty."
   "Rogue."  The queen sipped her tea.
   "What of you, Madeline?  What is your pleasure?"
   "You know my pleasure.  And my weakness.  Cards, Majesty."
   "Ah, yes.  The gaming tables."  Elizabeth glanced across the table
   toward the man who sat scowling.  "Windham, are your wounds causing you
   pain?"
   "Nay, Majesty.  They will quickly heal."  He seemed to catch himself.
   He had been brooding about the weather.  All of his plans had centered
   around a hunting accident.  It would have been so easy to hide himself
   and aim an arrow that would bring down the throne of England.  But what
   if the damnable rain continued and they never got a chance to hunt?
   "I
   would prefer cards to another night of dancing.  "
   "And you, Cordell?  Are you feeling well enough to join us for the
   games?"
   "I would not miss it, Majesty."
   "I fear Madeline's brother possesses the same weakness as my dear
   wife," Charles said with an exasperated sigh.
   "Neither can resist a game of cards."
   Windham brightened.
   "Then we shall play for money rather than just the challenge?"
   "But of course," Madeline replied.
   "What fun would it be to play without a bet?"
   Windham's evil smile grew.  He loved nothing better than to gamble.
   Especially if he could find a way to sway the cards in his favor.
   When they had finished their meal, the queen stood and the others
   followed.
   "Perhaps this will be even more challenging than the hunt."
   Everyone in the company brightened.  The rain had not ruined this trip
   to the country after all.  There were still many ways to test one's
   skill.
   The cozy library was the perfect place for the queen and her party to
   relax.  A cheery fire burned in the fireplace.  Small tables had been
   set up for the various games to be played.  A side table groaned with
   trays of sweets.  Crystal decanters of wine and ale gleamed in the
   light of the fire.
   "Do you play cards, my lady?"  Lord Windham asked Brenna.
   She backed away from his touch.  Though he was aware of her reaction,
   his only indication was a tight-lipped smile.
   "Aye, my lord.  But it has been a long time since I have tested my
   skill."
   "Splendid.  Every game needs a sacrificial lamb."
   Morgan held a chair for Brenna at a small game table.  Cordell,
   Madeline and Lord Windham took the other seats.
   "Beware, my lady," Morgan muttered loud enough for the others to
   hear.
   "There is talk of heavy wagers being made on the cards lately.  Your
   cohorts at table do not play merely for sport."
   "Truly?"  Brenna cast an innocent glance around the table.
   "You would not take advantage of a stranger in your midst, would
   you?"
   Madeline and her brother exchanged wicked chuckles.
   "Cherie.  We are all friends here.  What can be the harm of a friendly
   wager?"
   "What harm indeed?"  Brenna picked up her cards.
   "You will need money for wagering," Morgan said.  He placed a large sum
   of money in front of her, which the others studied with greedy
   pleasure.
   "How much is here, my lord?"
   "The equivalent of fifty gold sovereigns."
   "Fifty..."  Brenna glanced around the table.
   "Did you not say this was to be a friendly wager?"
   "For fifty gold sovereigns, my lady, we will be very friendly," Cordell
   said with a laugh.
   Across the room, the queen and Richard set up their chess pieces and
   began their match.  Brenna glanced at them and suppressed a smile.
   Adrianna sat beside Richard, drinking in every move he made.  The
   queen, determined to win, studied her opponent with all the skill of a
   general.
   Some of the queen's ladies sat on cushions on the floor, listening to
   the haunting music of a lute played by the queen's musician.
   Servants scurried around with trays of goblets filled with ale and
   wine.  In this relaxed atmosphere, even the queen enjoyed a second
   serving of ale.
   Like a good host, Morgan moved between the tables, watching both the
   chess match and the card games.
   "It appears that I have won," Brenna said excitedly as the last card
   was played.
   "You were indeed lucky," Cordell said with a little frown.
   "This time I wish to double my bet."
   Brenna scooped up the money she had won and matched his bet.
   "What about you, Madeline?"
   Grudgingly the Frenchwoman reached into her pocket for more money.
   Across the table, Lord Windham studied his cards, then agreed to bet.
   When the cards were played, Brenna won again.
   "I have never seen such luck with cards."  Madeline turned to her
   husband, who stood watching the chess game.
   "Charles, I need..."  She saw the disapproving frown on his face and
   bit back her words.  She stood, scraping back her chair.
   "I have already overspent my limit."
   "So have I," Cordell said with a laugh.
   "But I cannot allow myself to be beaten by a lowly female."  He and
   Lord Windham shared a laugh.
   "One more hand, my lady, and we shall see who ends up with all the
 
					     					 			   gold."
   "Aye, Cordell.
   "Tis only fair that the lady give you a chance to win back your money
   lost."  Windham's words taunted.
   "Shall we double the bet again?"
   "I would not advise it."  Brenna glanced at the young Frenchman, hoping
   to discourage him.
   "But I insist."  Cordell tossed in his last coins.
   Windham followed suit.  Reluctantly Brenna did the same.
   The cards were dealt and Brenna scanned them quickly, then made the
   first move.  The others followed.  When the hand was over, she scooped
   up a pile of money from the center of the table.  At her yelp of
   laughter everyone looked up.
   "Will you loan me the money to play again?"  Cordell asked softly.
   Brenna gave him a pitying glance.  "
   "Twould be folly for me to allow you to sink into debt for a mere
   game."  "Ah, but it is not a game to me, my lady.  I am compelled to
   try again.  I know this time I can win.  Will you loan me enough to at
   least make a wager?"
   Before she could respond, Lord Windham said, "I will loan you the
   money, my young friend."
   Cordell bowed his head.
   "I am most grateful."
   "As for you, my lady."  Fingering a gold coin, Windham turned to
   Brenna.
   "Your luck must end.  We will play another hand, if you are willing.
   This time the wager will be two hundred gold sovereigns."
   "Two hundred..."  Brenna saw the greedy look in Windham's eyes.  But
   she also saw the way Cordell studied her gold.  The money was, after
   all, theirs before she won it.  "Aye.  You both deserve a chance to win
   back some of your gold."
   She watched as Windham dealt the cards.
   Morgan strolled across the room and stood behind Brenna as she played
   out the hand.  When the last card was played, Brenna had again won.
   "I believe the wager was two hundred gold sovereigns, my lord."
   Brenna's eyes danced with laughter.
   "Aye."
   "Lord Windham's face was expressionless as he counted out the money.
   But his eyes mirrored his anger.
   "And two hundred for me," Cordell said.
   Lord Windham counted out another sum, then spoke curtly to Cordell.
   "I
   shall expect your payment on the morrow.  "
   "Aye, my lord.  I am grateful for your generosity.  Though in this
   instance, I fear the lady's advice was sound.  I should not have made
   the final wager."
   Morgan studied Brenna as she calmly collected the money.
   "I do not believe this is your first experience with gambling at cards,
   my lady."
   Brenna gave him a demure smile.
   "My father would have been shocked to learn that my sisters and I were
   taught the fine art of gambling by my old nurse, Mora, and our keeper
   of the door, Bancroft.  Often, on a winter's eve, my sisters and I
   would sneak into the servants' quarters to while away an hour or two."
   Her smile grew.
   "Old Bancroft showed no mercy toward us, despite the fact that we were
   the MacAlpin's baims.
   The only way we could win was to best the old man.  And best him we
   did.  Eventually.  "
   "Cordell," Charles called to his brother-in-law.
   "It would appear that you and Lord Windham have been taken in by this
   innocent-looking female."
   The others burst into gales of laughter, and as Morgan joined them, he
   felt a grudging respect for the woman who sat calmly counting her
   money.  There was so much about her he did not know.  But he would