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Authors: Anne Herries

BOOK: A Stranger's Touch
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‘He is welcome to try.’ Rupert’s expression was grim. ‘I show no mercy to traitors.’

Tears filled her eyes and one trickled down her cheek. He wiped it away with his fingers.

‘Your pardon,’ Rupert said. ‘Do I hurt you, Morwenna?’

She shook her head. ‘It is no matter. If you will excuse me, I shall go to my room and finish this myself.’ She took the bowl and the salves on the tray and walked from the room.

‘Morwenna is in shock,’ Jacques said. ‘I came in time to save her from worse, but the brute hurt her. We fought, but I should have killed him.’

‘It is as well you did not. He will be followed and if he thinks they are in danger of being discovered he may contact others amongst the plotters.’

‘I doubt it. He was amused, for I let slip that I had no idea what they planned to do. It will be shocking, I know that, something terrible indeed.’

‘You do not need to know more. You should keep out of this affair now for the retribution will be swift and bloody. Go to my house and
take up the position of steward. I cannot tell you, but I know that information has been received. A letter of warning was sent to someone and we believe we may know what these evil men intend. God willing we shall apprehend the plotters before they can carry out their wicked purpose.’

‘Why do you not arrest them at once if you know?’

‘It has been agreed to wait until we have all the rats in the trap. I pray for your brother’s sake that he is out of it. If he has any sense, he will leave for France before it is too late. Once they have the ringleaders they will round up the others and they have no mercy. I pity those that live beyond this night, for they will wish they had died.’

Michael fumed as he walked away from the house in which his sister now practised as a whore. Had that interfering whelp not arrived he would have had her away. She was his sister and she had shamed him. He would not allow her to continue as that man’s mistress.

He knew that he should get away now before it was too late, but he could not go without Morwenna. If he left her behind as that rogue’s
mistress, he would have failed in all he had tried to do. He had risked so much for his family and, had he stuck to smuggling, might still have been risking his life to give them all that had been taken from them, but he had been tempted into dangerous waters.

He knew that he’d been a fool, but it was too late to go back now. He must begin a new life in France and he was determined that he would take his sister with him. Besides, he had lied to Morwenna before—he had not yet been paid for his work. Michael had risked so much, thrown away the easy trade that had caused him little trouble for the sake of all that was promised him. To run now without payment would ruin his plans for the future. One day he would be rich, a gentleman again, and he would force Morwenna to marry well and restore their reputation.

It was just a matter of waiting until the time was right. In the meantime he must find somewhere new to hide.

‘Are you sure you feel able to go shopping?’ Rupert asked when Morwenna came down wearing a cloak over her gown a little later. ‘We could leave it until another day if you prefer?’

‘I should like to go,’ she said. ‘Forgive me if I do not smile at you. My mouth feels sore and stiff. I think I must look terrible.’

‘You are always beautiful to me,’ Rupert said. ‘Forgive me for allowing him near you. I did not think he would dare to molest you in this house.’

‘Michael said it is your house—is that true?’

‘It was mine, but is now yours,’ he replied, a serious expression in his eyes. ‘My family has a much larger house in London, which is my mother’s for the moment. She lives there with my sister when she is not at the castle.’

‘Why did you have another house if your family has a home here? Was it to house a former mistress?’

Rupert glanced at her, seeing the shadow in her face. ‘I had a mistress. I shall not deny it, though I have parted with her on good terms. No, she never lived here. I bought the house so that I could be alone. I do not always wish to be in my mother’s pocket. We do not always agree and I find it more comfortable to live alone. I am not my mother’s favourite person.’

‘I see.’ Morwenna forced a smile, though it hurt and not just because Michael had hit her. ‘Where are we going this afternoon?’

‘To Spitalfields to the silk weavers there and
perhaps Cheapside. There is a goldsmith’s that I would visit. I have commissioned gifts from him before and I wish to buy you something—perhaps a necklet or something for your hair.’

‘You mean to spoil me,’ Morwenna said, eyes very bright.

‘You are worth spoiling. As far as I am concerned we shall be together for a long time, Morwenna. No man can promise a lifetime, for none of us know what awaits around the next corner, but you are the woman I wish to spend my life with.’

‘Is that truly so?’ Her heart caught, then soared with sudden hope. If he loved her, a wedding ring did not matter so very much.

Morwenna looked at him as he smiled. ‘Aye, my love. Do not question my feelings for you. You have all I have to give of myself, though it may not be all you wish for.’

‘If you truly care for me, it is enough,’ she said and held back her sigh.

‘You are not ill? That brute did not harm you?’

‘No, though he might have, had Jacques not come when he did. Michael would have forced me to go with him.’

Rupert cursed, his look as black as thunder. ‘Had I heard that he might not have lived.’

‘Forget him,’ Morwenna said and held his arm tighter. ‘I am looking forward to seeing the silk merchants and this goldsmith you spoke of visiting.’

His expression lightened and she was relieved. Even though Michael had hurt her, he was still her brother. She would prefer that neither man harmed the other.

She prayed that Michael had got away to France. If Rupert was forced to kill him, it might sour things between them. Far better that her brother should leave England while he had the chance.

‘Mother, you cannot be sure,’ the girl said, looking uncertainly at the older woman. ‘If Rupert were in town, would he not call for politeness’ sake if nothing more?’

‘Your brother is an unnatural son,’ the Dowager Marchioness of Melford said sharply. ‘We quarrelled when last we met and I think this is his way of punishing me. To be told that Rupert is in town by another when I had no knowledge of it is humiliating. It is all of a
piece, I dare say. He loses no opportunity to insult me.’

‘I do not believe my brother would deliberately insult you, Mother.’ May looked at her doubtfully. ‘I have not heard from him for some weeks. I feared he must be ill.’

‘If he has not written to you, then something must be going on,’ the Dowager Marchioness said thoughtfully. ‘Depend upon it, May, there is some mystery here. Your brother is hiding something from us.’

‘Rupert is a man grown, not a child,’ May said. ‘If he has a secret, he is entitled to keep it.’

‘I am his mother and if he is keeping something from us it is because he fears my anger. I am determined to discover what he is doing, May. I will not have your brother bring disgrace upon us all.’

‘Mother, you should not suspect him of ill doing.’

‘He delights in thwarting me.’ The Dowager Marchioness glared at her. ‘If you hear from Rupert, you will tell me immediately, do you hear me?’

‘As you wish, Mother. May we not speak of other things? I believe we are to go to court this evening?’

‘Indeed we are, Daughter, and you must look your best. It is time we were thinking of your marriage.’

May sighed inwardly. She had drawn her mother’s fire upon herself to deflect her thoughts, but now she would have to endure another lecture for the Dowager Marchioness had a sharp tongue and used it often on her children. May did not blame her brother for staying away. If she had her choice, she would leave too, but she must wait until she received a proposal of marriage. Since she would have little choice in the matter, she hoped that she could like the man her mother chose for her—although Rupert was the head of the family and could make his wishes known if he chose.

As yet, there had been no offers and May had not met anyone she would care to wed. Perhaps when Rupert decided to visit she would ask him to find her a husband. He would be kinder in his choice than her mother.

Just what was her brother doing and why had he stopped writing to her for so many weeks?

‘You are certain they know nothing, Morgan?’ the man with the dark swarthy face asked.

‘You should have slit your brother’s throat. If he guesses what we mean to do, we’ll all die.’

Michael glared at him. ‘Jacques knows we transported a large amount of gunpowder, but he has no idea what we intend to do with it.’

‘If our plans are thwarted because of your carelessness, I’ll kill you myself,’ the man muttered. ‘We have not plotted for months to have that young puppy destroy us at the last.’

‘I tell you, he knows nothing. If I thought he had the least idea that we intend to blow up the King and Parliament when they sit together, I would kill him rather than let him speak.’

‘Hush. Never speak the words aloud. We have come so far. Tomorrow we shall be rid of that tyrant for good.’

‘Amen to that! May God go with you. You are a brave man, Guy. That amount of powder is unpredictable. Make sure your fuse is long enough or you will die as the roof of the tunnel falls in on you.’

‘We have made our calculations. I shall take my chances and trust in Providence. If it is my destiny to die in such a cause, then I die willingly. What would rot my soul is if we were discovered before I can set the fuse.’

‘If that happens I pity you, my friend. They will show you no mercy.’

‘As I show none to them. If the tyrant and his lapdogs are to be destroyed, we must be decisive. One bold step and the future is ours.’

‘May God be with you.’ The two men clasped hands.

‘What of you? Are you for France?’

‘In good time. I have something to do first,’ Michael said and his eyes gleamed. ‘I am owed money and there is a score to be settled.’

Chapter Eleven

‘K
iss me,’ Morwenna said as she snuggled against Rupert in the large tester bed with its deep feather mattress. They had left the curtains open and the moonlight peeped in through the small window. ‘If you are careful it will not hurt too much.’

‘My sweet love.’ Rupert held her to him, one hand smoothing down the satin arch of her back. His lips against her hair, he murmured words of such tenderness that Morwenna pressed closer, her body trembling with need as she gave herself to him. ‘You are so beautiful. You know that I care for you so much. If anything should happen to me, I have made certain that you will be provided for. As I told you, the house is yours and my lawyer has money put aside for you. He
would make sure you had all you need, even if my family objected. My sister would not—bless her, for she loves me—but my mother is another matter. However, I have signed the deed and my lawyer is a good honest man.’

‘Do not speak of such things. I want only you,’ Morwenna said lifting her face for his kiss. ‘I pray you will not speak of death or loss.’

‘I did not mean to worry, merely to reassure you, my love. There are things I must do and any man is vulnerable. Yet I do not foresee it.’

Morwenna trembled as he bent his head, circling her nipples with the tip of his tongue. The heat was building inside her as she ran her nails lightly down his back and felt his shudder. All conversation was suspended as they explored each other, discovering new delights with each caress and touch, their passion white hot as they came together at the last in an explosion of desire and need.

Afterwards, they lay together, sated and content, drifting into sleep.

It was early morning when Morwenna woke and heard something that disturbed her. What was that noise within the house? Rupert still lay beside her and she knew he slept.

She was certain she had heard something. Touching Rupert’s shoulder, she tried to wake him, but he was soundly asleep and did not stir. Smiling, she slipped from the bed and pulled on a wrapping gown of silk, tying the sash about her waist and slipping her feet into soft-soled slippers.

Leaving Rupert to slumber on, she walked down the stairs to the hall below. Where had the sound come from? It might have been the kitchen. Perhaps the housekeeper had risen early to prepare for baking or some such task. She turned towards the back of the house and stood at the top of the staircase leading down.

‘Are you there, Mistress Janet?’ she called. ‘Does something ail you? Do you need my help?’

Morwenna had not brought a candle with her for it was dawn and the light was beginning to shine through the windows. She hesitated, about to descend to the kitchen when she heard a slight noise behind her and half-turned just as the blanket was thrown over her head.

‘No!’ she screamed out. ‘Rupert! Help me. Rupert …’

‘Be quiet, you little fool,’ a voice she knew only too well instructed. ‘If he hears you and
comes I’ll kill him—and you if you cause me too much trouble. Be quiet and no one will be hurt.’

‘Let me go!’ Morwenna struggled and protested, but she knew the sound of her voice would be muffled by the blanket and her brother had hold of her in a strong grip that prevented her from breaking away from him. Besides, Rupert was sound asleep. ‘Please, let me go,’ she sobbed, but knew he would not listen to her.

Her struggles were in vain as he carried her from the house and then dumped her unceremoniously across his horse. Her head dangling against the beast’s neck, Morwenna was jolted over cobblestones as her brother put his mount to a fast trot, carrying her away from Rupert.

‘Lie still and you will not be harmed,’ Michael told her. ‘You’ve put me to trouble enough, wench. Cause me worse and I’ll make you sorry you were born. You are my sister and I shall not let you shame me with that rogue. Had I not feared to raise the house, I should have killed him.’

Rupert would look for her and not find her. He might think she had run away and left him. Tears trickled down her cheeks beneath the
blanket. She loved Rupert so very much, but she was afraid she might not see him again.

‘Where are you taking me? Why are you doing this? What do you mean to do with me?’

The questions tumbled in her mind, but were lost in the thickness of the blanket. Would Rupert come to look for her again? He had found her once, but this time it might be too late.

Rupert roused, thinking he heard a cry. His hand slid across the bed, searching for Morwenna. Her side of the bed was still warm, though she was not there.

‘Morwenna?’ he asked, still half-asleep. ‘Are you well?’

The silence was somehow menacing. His spine prickled and some inner instinct warned him that all was not as it should be. Cursing, he left the bed, pulled on his breeches and shirt and went downstairs, his feet still bare. It was almost light now and he could hear a shutter banging somewhere to the rear of the house. Perhaps that had woken him.

‘Morwenna? Where are you?’

The silence was frightening him. She ought to have heard him by now. She should be answering him, coming to find him. Damn it!
Why had she left him sleeping? Had she gone to the kitchens in search of a drink?

He turned towards the back of the house and then saw something at the head of the stairs leading down into the kitchen. It was a slipper, Morwenna’s slipper. Now the chills were chasing down his spine and he was fully alert. Had she turned dizzy and fallen down the stairs?

‘Morwenna,’ he shouted and ran down them. ‘Morwenna—where are you?’

The kitchen was empty save for a cat purring on a rush mat before the stove, which was still warm from the previous night.

‘What is it, my lord?’ The footman came stumbling into the room, half-asleep, still pulling on his coat. ‘I thought I heard something. Is anything amiss?’

Rupert showed him the slipper. ‘Your mistress may have been abducted. Raise Mistress Janet and search the house.’

‘The lady gone?’ John the footman stared at him. ‘The house was locked last night, my lord.’

‘I heard a shutter banging.’

‘There is one that does not fasten properly in the back lobby.’

‘Show me,’ Rupert commanded. ‘If someone
entered that way, they came for her. I can only think of one man who would dare so much.’

He followed his servant to the back of the house, where, sure enough, the shutter was hanging. The hinge had been forced and it hung loosely, swinging in the breeze that swept in from the river that lay behind the house. The gate was opened, its lock broken. Running out into the lane, Rupert saw fresh horse droppings and then a short distance further along the road another slipper to match the one he still held.

His horse was in the mews, too far away to fetch it and still have hope of catching her. Morwenna had been snatched while he lay sleeping. He could only think that her brother had done this, but why? Was it merely that it offended his pride to think of his sister as Rupert’s mistress—or something more sinister?

Cursing himself for being a fool, Rupert returned to the house. He wanted to set off in pursuit, but which way to turn? Where would Michael take her?

He was at fault. Had he taken Morwenna to his home and left her in the care of his mother she would have been safe, but he knew that the Dowager Marchioness would not have accepted the woman he loved. This house with
just two servants was not properly protected. It had suited him well enough when he stayed here alone or with friends, but he should have realised that Morwenna might be in danger from her brother.

What were Michael’s intentions? Did he mean to flee to France and take his sister with him or was he looking for revenge?

Rupert’s thoughts were whirling as he returned to the house. He had only himself to blame for this mess. Had he married Morwenna, her brother would not have snatched her away. Yet was it his honour Michael meant to avenge or something else?

Rupert knew that certain things had been afoot the previous night. After the letter to William Parker, 4th Baron Monteagle, warning him not to attend the State Opening of Parliament, certain measures had been put into place. For months now the men whose task it was to protect the King and his ministers had been aware of plotters who wished to sweep away the King and place his Catholic daughter Elizabeth on the throne in his place. Rumours of a revolt had reached the ears of important men, but it was not until recently that they had realised to what lengths these desperate men
might go. Rupert was aware that it had been Lord Henry’s intention to search the cellars beneath the Houses of Parliament. Had something been discovered? Had the plotters been taken or disturbed at their work?

‘Is there any sign of her, my lord?’ the footman asked as he returned. ‘She is nowhere in the house.’

‘I think her brother may have taken her,’ Rupert said, raking his hair back with frantic fingers. ‘For what reason I cannot be sure. Unless he means to lure me into a trap.’

‘What may I do to help you, sir?’

‘You may go to the mews, saddle my horse and have Mistress Janet put me up a change of clothing. I may have to leave town.’

‘Yes, my lord. I am sorry. I should have had that shutter mended.’

‘Yes, you should, but I should never have brought her here.’

Rupert took the stairs two at a time. For days now he had been haunted by indecision. His affair with Morwenna had started lightly. He had hardly thought where their relationship was going for his family would not accept a marriage with the sister of a traitor. Michael Morgan might be only a small part of the conspiracy,
perhaps no more than a tool for obtaining the gunpowder and spiriting away men who might otherwise have been caught and punished by the law.

Rupert was well aware of the unrest in various parts of the country. Catholics of all walks of life were dissatisfied with the religious intolerance under King James’s rule. He had friends who met and spoke of change, but most were hopeful that it could be brought about in a peaceful manner. However, it was known that there was a hard knot of dissenters at the heart of England, men who would stop at nothing to bring down the King and his friends and set up Catholic rule again.

Rupert had been drawn in because Lord Henry was one of the investigators and a friend of his family. He had never thought when he left London for Cornwall on a daring adventure that he would find a woman he could admire and value so much.

Damn it! His feelings went much deeper than admiration. At first he had taken his need to touch and kiss her as being merely lust, but then he had begun to realise he wanted more. He was not certain he understood how he felt, because love was something he had never experienced.
At least, this kind of love was new to him—a love that burned deep in his guts and made him aware of pain.

What if Morwenna had gone willingly? She had given herself so sweetly as she lay in his arms the previous night. Surely she would not leave without a word?

No, she had been stolen away and by her own brother. How could Michael do such a thing to her? Where had he taken her and what did he plan?

The thoughts went round and round in Rupert’s head as he dressed and shaved, cutting his chin in his haste. He swore as he dabbed at the trickle of blood with linen soaked in cold water.

Where should he look first? Michael might have taken her on board his ship. Would he head for Cornwall or for France?

What would Rupert do in his place? If he suspected that the plot had gone awry, that his friends were being sought, where would he run? Or did he think himself safe? If he were not involved in the actual plot, but had been used to convey the goods …

Hearing pounding at his front door, Rupert ran down the stairs as the maidservant opened it.

‘Lord Henry sent me,’ the man said. ‘You are to come at once, my lord.’

‘What is it? I have no time.’

‘It is important. Lord Henry insists you are needed, sir.’

Swearing beneath his breath, Rupert grabbed his hat from the stand, then barked an order at his footman, who had returned with his horse.

‘I shall return within the hour. I shall need you to take a message so be ready.’

‘Yes, my lord.’

Still furious at the delay, but knowing it could hardly matter, because Michael was already too far away to be followed, Rupert left the house with Lord Henry’s man. He knew that something important must have happened or he would not have been summoned at this hour. He was on fire to begin his search for Morwenna, but in truth there was little he could do, for nothing would be gained by running around town like a headless chicken.

In his own mind he was certain that Michael had taken Morwenna, which meant she might even now be on her way to Cornwall or perhaps France. Rupert would need to employ agents to help him search for her. Lord Henry might have some idea of where Michael was hiding out. He
could gain nothing by refusing to speak to his father’s friend and might gain much.

In his first panic he had been ready to ride off in search of her, but now he realised that he needed help. It might take weeks or months to find Morwenna if she had been taken out of London.

His heart felt as if it were in the grip of a strong hand, being squeezed so tight that he could hardly breathe, and his head was pounding. If anything happened to her, he did not think he would forgive himself.

‘We discovered Fawkes guarding the gunpowder,’ Lord Henry said excitedly as Rupert was shown into his parlour. ‘There were six and thirty barrels. Enough to blow the House of Lords to pieces. None would have survived such a blast.’

‘Good grief. Are all the plotters taken?’

‘No. Most will have fled by now. We know Robert Catesby is one of them: also Thomas Wintour, John Grant, Sir Ambrose Rookwood, Digby, Thomas Percy and others, I dare say. We shall have them soon enough, for Fawkes has been arrested.’

‘You say Fawkes was guarding the hoard?’

‘Aye. He had ten years’ military experience on the Spanish peninsula during the Dutch revolt. We believe he may have been selected to do the wicked deed, though I do not think him the ringleader myself. They will have the other names out of him before many hours have passed.’

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