A Stranger's Touch (17 page)

‘Rupert cares for you deeply,’ Jacques told her. ‘He was distraught when we were not sure if you would live. Yet I’m not sure he means to wed you. His family would not be pleased. I heard a whisper that they wish to arrange a great marriage for him, to the daughter of a Duke.’

‘Oh.’ Morwenna’s eyes shut against the tears. She brushed a hand over her eyes and then looked at her brother. ‘The day he marries is the day I shall leave him. I could not share him with a wife, Jacques. It would not be fair to any of us.’

‘If you leave him, we could go home. The house is ours now.’

‘Yes, it is yours by right. If Rupert marries another woman, I shall come back to Cornwall.’

‘I
have given my word that the match will go ahead, Rupert. If you break the agreement you will bring dishonour upon us. You promised me that you would marry well, as your brother Richard would have had he lived. He would have known his duty to his family and me.’

Rupert frowned as he faced his mother across the room. She was a proud woman and used to having much of her own way, but in this he was determined to hold firm.

‘It was not your decision to make. Your word is not mine, Mother. I am no longer a child.’

‘You were to have wed a girl worthy of your name once, but now you would shame your brother’s memory and me. You owe it to Richard to marry well.’

‘I would have married my betrothed had she not died, Mama,’ Rupert said now. ‘But I was a boy then and now I am a man. You may not arrange a match for me. I shall not be treated as if I were a child. This time you have gone too far. Marley will understand when I tell him I have a prior commitment and if he does not then he may sue me for breach of promise. I gave no promise and you had no right to do so in my place. I shall be upheld in court and his daughter will be the loser.’

Tears sprang to the Dowager Marchioness’s eyes. ‘How could you treat me this way, Rupert? How could you shame your family by bringing this whore into our midst?’

‘I have no intention of bringing her here,’ Rupert said. ‘We shall go down to the country and we shall be wed there. Morwenna is not a whore. You wrong her, Mother. She is a lady, though her family fell upon hard times and lost much of their estate. Her mother came from a good family.’

‘Her brother is a smuggler and a traitor—and she has lived with you as your mistress. Do you deny that you have lain with her?’

‘That is my affair and none of yours,’ Rupert replied coldly. ‘I have allowed you to have your
way in most things because of what happened to Richard. I know that I should not have inherited the estate if he had lived, but he died that day and I survived. I am sorry if you wish it otherwise.’

‘Do not be so foolish,’ she snapped. ‘I would rather have had both my sons survive.’

‘So would I, Mama. Believe me, I have regretted what happened that day a thousand times. Richard slipped as we wrestled. It was an accident, no more, and I have let it haunt me long enough. I have not forgot him or my duty to the family, but I shall not marry this child you have found for me. Nor shall I give up the woman I love.’

‘Love? What ridiculous notion is this? Have I not told you that romantic love is a mere fancy?

I married for duty, as your sister will and as you should. Family and property are what we stand for. It has always been thus.’

‘Has it, Mama? I pity you if that is all you see in life. Yet I know that my grandfather was happy in his marriage. Before I met Morwenna I was not so far different in my opinions, I shall admit. I hoped to find affection in my marriage, but I had no great hope of love or happiness. Now the case is altered. Morwenna is far above
me. She will bring fresh blood and a healing wind to blow away the hurt of the past. I need her in my life and I shall not give her up.’

‘You could keep her as your mistress if you must.’

‘She would not stay if I were married. I know her too well. If I so insulted her she would go away, renounce her claims and tell me I must cleave to my wife. No, I shall offer her my name and my wealth—and I pray she will accept me with all my faults. I am hardly good enough for her, but perhaps in time I may earn her love back.’

‘You fool!’ His mother glared at him. ‘If you shame me, I shall not see you or her. We shall be estranged and you will not see your sister.’

‘I should regret that,’ Rupert told her with a bow of his head. ‘If you set your face against me I shall not see you, but my sister is under my guardianship. I shall not deny her, nor shall I force her into a marriage she does not like.’

‘If she must choose between us she will choose me, unless she wishes never to see her mother again.’

‘Such bitterness does not become you,’ Rupert said coldly. ‘I must bid you good day, Mother. I shall call on Marley and explain why
I cannot marry his daughter and that you had no authority to begin negotiations on my behalf.’

‘Do that and you will be sorry. I shall make you suffer and that whore you would wed. No one in society will receive her by the time I have done.’

‘You would be so cruel?’ Rupert threw her a look of disgust. ‘I shall bid you goodbye, madam. I think we have nothing more to say to one another. You may remain here if you choose, but in the country the dower house is your only home from now on.’

‘How dare you deny me my rights?’

‘You have none but your dower, madam. I have let you rule my homes, but unless you acknowledge my wife both in private and in public you shall not enter them again.’

Rupert inclined his head, leaving her staring after him in high indignation as he left. It would not suit her pride to be forced to step back for his wife and he was sure it was the reason she had picked an innocent sixteen-year-old, who would be too shy and nervous to argue with her mother-in-law.

Morwenna would not be cowed whatever was said to her. Rupert smiled as he went out to his horse. He would send Morwenna a note explaining
that he must be away for a few days, because he could not afford to neglect this affair. The Duke of Marley would be entitled to complain if his daughter thought herself promised to a man she did not know, only to discover that he had wed another. A swift visit to explain before anything was announced would save a deal of embarrassment and pain.

Morwenna was much recovered. By the time he returned she might be ready to leave her bed and then they could begin to make plans for their wedding.

He had done wrong in taking her to his house—his mother was not the only one who would hear of it and think the worst. Indeed, he had intended it as a love nest for them, but the case was altered. Morwenna had been through hell because she’d denied her brother. She deserved marriage and it was the only way he could make recompense for her suffering.

Besides, her illness had taught him something and he knew that he could not live his life without her. He did not wish to.

‘Your letter is from Rupert?’ Jacques said, looking up from his own. ‘He asks that I take
you to Melford Towers and promises that he will follow as soon as he can.’

‘I do not mind going there,’ Morwenna told him. Rupert’s letter was puzzling. He spoke warmly of the future, but made no mention of his forthcoming marriage. Surely he did not imagine he could hide it from her? ‘I loved that house when we stayed there on our way to London. I shall be happy to see it again—and the people.’

‘No, no, it is not to his old house that I am bidden to escort you, Morwenna. That is in the Marches—the castle is not far from Worcester and I believe it to be his principle seat.’

‘Why should he ask us to await him there?’ Morwenna stared at him in surprise. ‘I thought it was his mother’s home when she was in the country. He will certainly take his wife there if he is to be married.’

‘I know nothing of that,’ her brother said and frowned, ‘but his instructions are clear. He is delayed by important business and will join us at the castle as soon as he may.’

‘I am not sure I wish to go there.’ Morwenna shivered. ‘His old home is beautiful and I felt comfortable there—but the castle …’ She moved
away from him to gaze out of the window. ‘What can be his purpose?’

A feeling of unease came over her and she was suddenly restless. Despite the bitter cold the sun was shining and she had a sudden desire to make the most of her last day in London.

‘Will you take me out, Jacques? I should like to visit Cheapside. I would buy a gift for Mistress Janet and the Footman John—and something for Bess. I could give her nothing when I left and I have some money in my purse—Rupert wanted me to feel independent when I went shopping.’

‘Yes, of course, if you wish it.’ He smiled at her. ‘We shall make a day of it and perhaps visit the theatre this evening.’

‘Yes, I would like that of all things. Rupert took me to see one of Master Shakespeare’s plays and I did laugh, for it was vastly amusing.’

‘Put on your cloak and we shall go out whilst the sun shines.’

‘This is most enjoyable,’ Jacques said as he picked up another of Morwenna’s purchases and prepared to leave the shop just as a woman came bustling through from the back. ‘I do not know when I have known more pleasure in a day.’

‘Why, bless my soul,’ the shopkeeper’s wife exclaimed. ‘If it is not Mistress Morwenna—and Master Jacques. Have you come to visit me, my dears?’

Morwenna stared at her and then laughed for sheer pleasure. ‘Sarah—Mistress Harding. How are you—and your daughter Jane?’

‘We are very well thanks to you.’ Sarah’s face was bathed in smiles. ‘You have been buying cloth from us? Had you asked for me I would have given you a better price.’

‘We are well satisfied with our purchase of your beautiful materials. I have bought Bess some good wool for a new gown.’

‘Then I shall give her some ribbon to dress it,’ Sarah said. ‘What colour did you choose?’

‘The dark blue, but …’

Sarah would not be gainsaid. She insisted on cutting off a length of her best silk ribbon and presenting it as a gift for Bess.

‘I owe you so much more and you would never take a penny for yourself, Morwenna. I am glad to see you prosperous and well. Had it not been so, I would have given you a home here—and work if you cared for it. My husband would welcome you to our family. If he were here he would give you half of what he owns,
for he knows he would be alone and a widower had you not saved us from the sea.’

‘I helped you recover. It was not so very much,’ Morwenna protested, her cheeks warm as Sarah told all her customers how brave and generous the Morgans had been to her when she was pulled from the sea half-dead.

After that she insisted on taking them into her back parlour, where they were given mugs of her special spiced ale, cakes and sweetmeats made with minced beef and fruit, piggy pies and a dish of curds with wine.

Most of the day had fled before she could be parted from them, and when her husband came home he insisted on giving Morwenna a length of his finest silk in a beautiful green and some lace to trim it.

Morwenna’s protests were ignored and when they were finally allowed to leave, Jacques could hardly manage all the parcels. He hired a sedan chair to carry Morwenna through the streets and another to carry their parcels, walking beside them. Because the light was fading it was as well that he was wearing a small sword, for there were sometimes rogues who would attack the unwary.

‘I think we shall not see the first act,’ Morwenna said as the chairs deposited them outside her house. ‘We must leave our parcels and then hurry to the boats, else we shall miss the farce and ‘tis a comedy of errors that I like the most.’

The door was opened before they could knock and John the footman greeted them with a sombre expression and a look in his eyes that seemed to warn of trouble.

‘Is something wrong, John?’ Morwenna asked, sensing his unease. ‘We are late back, for we met friends and stayed to dine with them.’

‘There is a visitor in the parlour, mistress. She came three hours ago and will not leave until she has spoken with you.’

‘A visitor?’ Morwenna felt a sliver of ice slide down her spine. ‘I was not expecting anyone.’

‘‘Tis the Dowager Marchioness, mistress.’

‘Rupert’s mother?’ Why was she here? Morwenna threw an agonised look at her brother. ‘What can she want?’

‘I have no idea. I shall come with you, dear heart. She cannot harm you.’

‘No, stay here unless I call for you.’

Morwenna had taken off her cloak. She smoothed the creases from her silk gown, drawing a deep breath as she went through to the
large parlour. A woman was sitting by the fire. She seemed intent on its flames and did not turn her head as Morwenna approached.

‘You wished to see me, ma’am?’

At that the Dowager Marchioness turned her head. Her eyes were so like Rupert’s that Morwenna felt a shock of surprise, but then she saw the sour line of the other woman’s mouth and knew the likeness went no further.

As the woman rose slowly to her feet, her manner was haughty in the extreme as she looked Morwenna over, her gaze intent. For a long moment she merely stared and said nothing, then her mouth went hard.

‘I see why he is bewitched by you. That hair is enough to rob a man of his wits. You are beautiful and you have the appearance of a lady—but you are a whore. Have you been spending my son’s money while out with another lover?’

‘I have been shopping with my brother. Rupert gave me money to spend and I did indeed spend some shillings, but I also visited friends.’

‘I have no wish to hear your excuses, mistress. A whore is of little importance in the scheme of things here. My son may do as he
pleases for he is a man, but I wished to make sure that you understood you can never be more to him than you are now.’

‘I beg your pardon. I do not understand you, ma’am.’

‘I thought I had made myself clear. You may be Rupert’s mistress, but you will never be his wife while I have breath in my body. He has been betrothed to the daughter of a Duke and must marry her or bring shame on his family. Would you have him ruin himself for your sake?’

‘Why should he? Forgive me, you speak in riddles. I would bring no shame on Rupert. I think my family hath more cause to quarrel with me over honour than you, my lady.’

‘He cannot flaunt a mistress so openly if he is to marry well. He risks his position at court, a good marriage and his honour if he carries on in this fashion. He is betrothed and cannot in honour break his word to the lady. If you cared for him at all, you would stand back and allow him to marry and hold his position in society.’

‘If Rupert tells me he wishes to marry another lady, I shall of course stand back. I should not dream of ruining his hopes or hers.’

‘Indeed? I had heard that you were to go
down to the castle. You must know that it would be too shocking. If rumours of your liaison reached the King, Rupert would lose any chance of a good position at court.’