Highland Heather

  "I had hoped, my lady," Cordell said, his face pale, "that you might be

  willing to buy my debt from Lord Windham."

  "Buy your debt?" She glanced at Windham.

  "Would you be willing to sell it?"

  "Aye, my lady. For the amount due. Two hundred gold sovereigns."

  Brenna shrugged.

  "I will speak with Morgan."

  "Nay, my lady." Cordell stepped forward until she could see his eyes

  by the light of the coals. They were round with fear.

  "My little sister, Adrianna, seems captivated by Richard Grey. I

  cannot allow his brother to think unkindly about my family, else I

  could shatter Adrianna's heart. And Madeline and Charles are two of

  Morgan Grey's dearest friends. A

  scandal like this could come between their friendship. " His voice

  pleaded. " All I ask is that you pay Lord Windham two hundred gold

  sovereigns In return, I shall send you the sum of two hundred fifty

  gold sovereigns when I return to France. "

  Brenna caught his cold hands in hers.

  "Two or two hundred, it matters not to me. I have no money of my own

  in this land. I am completely dependent upon the generosity of Morgan

  Grey."

  Her words were like a knife in Cordell's heart. With a stricken look

  he turned to Windham.

  "My lord. You have heard the lady. How can I persuade you to allow me

  more time?"

  "Your time is up." Windham paused, then said softly, "Unless..."

  "What is it? Please," Cordell urged, feeling a glimmer of hope.

  "I

  will do anything. "

  Windham glanced beyond Cordell to study Brenna, as though the thought

  had just struck him.

  "I might be persuaded to accept something of value until the debt can

  be paid."

  Cordell was puzzled.

  "I have nothing of value, my lord."

  "Perhaps the lady has." Windham waited, becoming aroused as his sense

  of power began to grow. They still did not understand. But in a few

  moments they would be caught in his web.

  "Nay. I have nothing," Brenna said.

  "I was brought to England with nothing but the clothes upon my back."

  "You have jewels." Windham deliberately kept his tone soft, to veil

  his mounting excitement.

  "They are Morgan's jewels," Brenna said patiently.

  "They have been in Morgan's family for generations."

  "The necklace you wore last night is yours." Windham glanced at

  Cordell for confirmation.

  "Did you not hear Morgan Grey say as much?"

  "Aye," Cordell affirmed.

  "But they are worth far more than the two hundred gold sovereigns that

  I owe you, my lord."

  "True. This would seem a paltry sum for one as wealthy as the Lady

  Brenna. But I would be willing to hold the jewels until you can return

  to France and pay your debt to the lady."

  Brenna felt the protest rise in her throat. She turned to Cordell.

  "I

  cannot do this without Morgan's permission. I would feel that I had

  somehow betrayed his trust. "

  "i understand, my lady." Cordell turned to face the man who would be

  judge and executioner.

  Windham's voice was pure silk.

  "Of course, if the jewels mean that much to you, my lady, that you

  would refuse to help a friend, I understand, too." He sighed, as if

  the matter were finished.

  "I regret that I will be forced to go to the queen." His voice

  purred.

  "I regret that Madeline will be shamed before her husband. And of

  course, a young woman as sweet and shy as Adrianna will never again be

  able to face Richard Grey. She is young, though extremely vulnerable.

  He, of course, has already been severely damaged. The scandal could

  shatter their lives."

  Brenna paled. She thought of her own sisters, and the fierce pride

  they had in their family honor. And then she thought of the first

  woman who had befriended her in this land. Madeline. And what of

  Adrianna and Richard? No one deserved love and happiness more than

  they.

  "You will only hold the jewels, my lord? And when Cordell's debt is

  paid you will return them to me?"

  "Have I not said as much?"

  Brenna hesitated for a moment longer, seeing the light of hope that

  flickered in Cordell's dark eyes. She had not the heart to extinguish

  his last hope.

  She started toward the door, determined to do the deed quickly, before

  she changed her mind. Within minutes she had returned with the velvet

  pouch containing the necklace and earrings.

  "You will breathe not a word of this," she said, placing the pouch in

  Windham's hands.

  His eyes glittered as he opened the pouch and felt the warmth of the

  diamonds and amethyst in his palm.

  "My lips are sealed."

  "And you," she said to Cordell, "will give me your word that you will

  never again gamble."

  "I swear it, my lady." He fell to his knees and brought both her hands

  to his lips.

  "I am your devoted servant for the rest of my life."

  As Brenna made her way to bed, she felt a heaviness around her heart.

  This had all happened too quickly. In her tired, overwrought state,

  there had been no time to reason her way through this, and now her mind

  was reeling.

  There would be no sleep for her this night. As she settled herself

  beside Morgan, she drew close to him, hoping to absorb his warmth, his

  strength. She had helped a friend, but it gave her little

  satisfaction. She could not shake her eerie feelings about Windham.

  The man was evil. And she had the frightening feeling that there was

  more to this than a gambling debt.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  t "V Iou look tired, lass." Richard's head came up from the rose he

  was tending.

  "Aye. I did not sleep well last night." Brenna glanced around.

  "Is Adrianna not with you?"

  "Nay. She and her sister are visiting with the queen. I thought you

  would be with them."

  "I sent my regrets. I have been searching for you." She licked her

  lips.

  "You once said that if I desired to talk, you would be here to

  listen."

  Richard placed the shears in his lap and leaned forward in his wheeled

  chair.

  "What is it, lass? What troubles you?"

  "Oh, Richard."

  He saw the tears that welled up in her eyes.

  "I cannot tell you without betraying a confidence. But I fear I have

  done a terrible thing. If Morgan learns of it, he will never forgive

  me."

  "You, lass?" Richard took her hands in his and stared into her eyes.

  "You are the best thing that has ever happened to my brother. You have

  brought back all the love, all the laughter, that had been buried

  beneath so much pain. Because of you, Morgan has learned to live

  again, and laugh again. And what is more important, trust again."

  Trust. Brenna felt as if her heart would break from the pain.

  "By helping a friend I may have destroyed his trust forever."

  Richard leaned forward and touched a finger to her lips to silence

  her.
br />   "Listen to me, Brenna. I had not thought it possible that Morgan would

  ever recover from the pain of his youthful marriage. What you have

  done for him is nothing short of a miracle."

  "I do not understand. Why was he left so bitter and angry?"

  "When a man is young and honorable, he believes that the whole world is

  the same. It is shattering to discover that some people are so

  shallow, or so cruel, that they have no regard for anyone but

  themselves."

  Richard leaned back, feeling the sunshine warm upon his face.

  "My brother was hardly more than a lad the first time he went to his

  marriage bed. No more than twenty. And she but ten and five."

  "What was her name?"

  A slight frown furrowed Richard's brow.

  "She was the queen's cousin, Catherine Elder."

  The queen's own cousin. Timidly Brenna asked, "Was she very

  beautiful?"

  "Beautiful enough to turn the head of every man at court. She had hair

  the color of a gold sovereign, and a full, ripe figure." Richard's

  frown grew.

  "But Morgan was not the only man in love with her. There were many men

  who paid her court."

  "But of all the men who sought her, Morgan was the one who won her

  hand."

  "Aye, lass, but the price he paid was not worth the prize."

  "I do not understand."

  "Morgan may have won her hand, but another won her heart. She came to

  her marriage bed carrying another man's child."

  "How horrible."

  "Aye. Other men would have had her put away. But Morgan was too

  tenderhearted for his own good. He reasoned that he would save the

  lady's honor, even though everyone already knew she was sullied. The

  other man had refused to do the honorable thing. So Morgan endured the

  humiliation. But within weeks of their marriage, she fell once more

  under the spell of her former lover."

  "Did no one know his identity?" Brenna asked.

  "Nay. She refused to tell even her family who the man was:" Richard

  shrugged.

  "At the time, we thought she was simply so in love, she could not bring

  herself to speak of him. But later, when it was too late, we realized

  that she had been warned by this man not to reveal his identity under

  threat of death."

  "How could he claim to love her and still threaten her life?"

  "Catherine was too blinded by passion to ask that question, lass. She

  simply wanted to believe that the rake loved her. But he was merely

  using her. He coerced her into stealing from Morgan's considerable

  fortune. This went on for several months, and may have gone undetected

  even longer had not the man become greedy."

  Picturing a youthful, noble Morgan, Brenna felt the sting of tears.

  She quickly blinked them away. Though it pained her to hear of

  Morgan's past, she was now compelled to hear all of it.

  "In the library Morgan discovered a strongbox opened. The contents

  were missing. When he confronted Catherine, she admitted that she had

  given them to her lover. Morgan flew into a rage and ordered her to

  tell him the name of the man who had dragged her to such depths."

  Brenna sat very stiffly, twisting her hands together until the knuckles

  were white from the effort. In her mind's eye she could see the young,

  honorable Morgan being consumed with rage and allowing his heart to

  harden forever.

  "What happened then?"

  "Catherine must have feared Morgan's rage more than her lover's. She

  agreed to fetch the contents. She was gone so long that Morgan sent

  servants out into the countryside to search for her. Late that night

  she was found along the road, bruised and bloodied beyond saving. She

  had been run through by a sword. With her last breath she begged

  Morgan's forgiveness, then told him she had once truly loved him, but

  she had been persuaded to give in to the lustful desires of another.

  She admitted that she had wanted a father for her child, and had hoped

  that she could be a good wife to him. But her lover's hold on her was

  too strong to break. With her last breath she begged Morgan's

  forgiveness. In her hands she clutched the contents of the

  strongbox."

  Brenna felt her throat go dry. She suddenly knew without asking what

  the contents of the strongbox were. Running her tongue over her lips

  she whispered, "Tell me, Richard. Did the box contain the Grey

  jewels?"

  "Aye, lass. The Grey jewels. Including the pieces Morgan gave you the

  other night. When I saw you wearing them, it was the first time they

  had been out of that box since that terrible night."

  God in heaven. What had she done? Brenna felt a wave of nausea.

  Windham had coerced her into doing the one thing Morgan could never

  forgive.

  With her hand to her mouth she let out a cry and bolted from the

  garden.

  "I must speak with Lord Windham."

  As Brenna entered Windham's chambers a servant looked up from her

  chores.

  "Lord Windham is gone, my lady."

  "Gone? Where?"

  "He said he had urgent business at the Crooked Tree Inn in the

  village."

  "When is he returning to Greystone Abbey?"

  "He is not, my lady. He took all his things with him, in preparation

  for his departure to London."

  London. Brenna felt a wave of panic. He must not be allowed to take

  the jewels to the city. She must get them back before it was too

  late.

  Hurrying to her room, Brenna pulled on a traveling cloak and called to

  Rosamunde, "Order a groom to saddle a mount."

  "But my lady..."

  "Now, Rosamunde. Hurry. There is no time to explain."

  Minutes later Brenna flew down the stairs and out into the courtyard,

  where a groom stood holding the reins of a horse.

  As Brenna pulled herself into the saddle Rosamunde called, "If my lord

  Morgan Grey should ask, where should I say you have gone, my lady?"

  "Tell him I have gone to retrieve something of value. And when I

  return I will explain everything."

  She urged her mount into a run. And as they covered the miles to the

  village, Brenna's heart matched the thundering tempo of the horse's

  hooves. What had she done? God in heaven. What terrible thing had

  she done?

  Though it was early afternoon, the public room of the Crooked Tree Inn

  was filled with the laughing, raucous voices of tradesmen and

  travelers.

  Brenna stood just inside the entrance, uncomfortably aware of the

  curious glances from some of the patrons. A serving wench whispered in

  the ear of a big coarse man dressed like a sailor. He laughed, then

  pulled her down on his lap and kissed her soundly. With a playful slap

  at his shoulder, she looked up, straightened her skirts and made her

  way to Brenna.

  "Yes, miss. What would be your pleasure?"

  "I am looking for Lord Windham. Recently arrived from Greystone

  Abbey."

  "Aye. A fine, fancy man with golden hair and eyes that undress ye

  every time he looks at ye?" She seemed to assess Brenna for a moment,

&
nbsp; then gave her a conspiratorial smile.

  "His lordship said there'd be a fine lady along soon."

  Her words caused Brenna to blink. Had he arranged a tryst with

  someone? He would not take kindly to her interruption. She would have

  to beg his pardon and conclude her business quickly.

  "His lordship's having a meal in his room. Second floor."

  "Thank you."

  Brenna climbed the stairs, rehearsing the things she would say to

  Windham. She would appeal to his honor as a gentle r man and as a

  friend of the queen. She would remind him of the hospitality shown by

  Morgan while Windham was his guest. And if all else failed, she would

  beg him to return the jewels and she would agree to sign a document

  attesting to her debt on Cordell's behalf.

  She knew that she was taking a dangerous risk. But she no longer had

  anything to lose. If she tried and failed, she would lose Morgan. But

  if she did nothing, she would still lose Morgan. One desperate thought

  echoed in her mind. If she succeeded, she would have everything her

  heart had ever desired.

  She paused outside the door, then lifted her hand and knocked.

  "Enter."

  Brenna stepped inside.

  Lord Windham sat before a cozy fire, enjoying a sumptuous meal. His

  smile was dazzling.

  "My lady. Come in. Join me in a celebration feast."

  "Forgive my intrusion. I will be but a moment."

  "Nay." His evil smile grew.

  "You are a part of the celebration."

  She felt a sudden chill at his words.

  "What are you celebrating, my lord?"

  "A new era for England. A time of great wealth and power for me."

  "Wealth." She misunderstood his meaning.

  "You mean the Grey jewels.

  About those jewels, my lord. "

  "These?" He held up the little pouch, and Brenna took a step closer.

  "Aye. I came to ask that you return them."

  "Of course you did."

  "You do not mind?"

  He threw back his head and laughed.

  "Mind? My lady, it is exactly as I had planned it."

  She paused, puzzled by his words.

  "I do not understand."

  He lifted a goblet of wine to his lips and drained it. Scraping back

  his chair he stood.

  "Come closer, my lady."

  When she hesitated, he caught her roughly by the arm and dragged her

  close.

  His voice, which only seconds ago had been jovial, was now low and

  deadly.

  "When I give an order, you must comply immediately. Do you

  understand?"

  She felt the sting of his hot breath and was reminded of the man who

  attacked her in the night. Her eyes widened.

  "It was you. That night in Morgan's room. It was you."

  He gave her an evil smile.

  "Do you remember the lesson I taught you?"

  Without thinking she touched a hand to the scar on her arm.

  He pulled out a chair and ordered her to sit. When she refused he

  brought his hand across her face, slapping her so hard it snapped her

  head to one side.

  "Now," he said, as quietly as if nothing had happened, "you will do as

  I order. Sit down."

  It was as she had known the night of her attack. Only a madman could

  behave in such fashion, one minute calm, almost serene; the next

  vicious.

  Her hand went to the knife at her waist. As if reading her mind,

  Windham twisted it viciously from her hand and gave her a crashing blow

  to the temple.

  Stunned, Brenna sank into the chair and watched as Windham pulled out a

  scroll and began writing. When that note was finished he wrote a