FLAME OF DESIRE (12 page)

“Richard!” At the sight of him, his shoulders hunched over, his face buried in his hands, Heather forgot about the presence of her two servants and ran to his side, gathering him in her arms as if he were a small child. “Are you all right?”

His blue eyes touched upon her and there was such love written there that Harold Perriwincle smiled. Yes, these two belonged together, of that there was no doubt.

Burying his face in the warm softness of her breasts, Richard held her close. Her near proximity made him forget all else, only an exhilarating happiness engulfing him. He wanted to touch her, to explore every curve, to find the fullness of her lips and caress them with his own.

“I was so worried. I thought for a certainty that you would be discovered.” Heather longed to ease away the lines of strain about his mouth, to soothe his troubled brow. Reaching out her hand, she ran her fingers through the thick dark hair, knowing that if he had been killed by Northumberland she would have been devastated. How was it possible to fall in love so quickly, to find that another being had become your sun and moon?

“She needs me. My queen needs me and I am about as useless as a gelded stallion,” he murmured hoarsely.  “Northumberland might just as well have killed me.”

Tears sprang to her eyes and she blinked them away. “Had he done so, I too would have died, at least inside.” She could feel him relax in the shelter of her arms, could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing. Heedless of the onlookers, she whispered what was in her heart. “I love you, Richard.”

He stiffened in her arms as she spoke the words. His jaw tightened. She had said it. Love. God, how he loved her too, but he would not say the words, he could not. She was all trusting innocence and he the biggest bastard in the world if he took advantage of that fact. He broke free of her arms, and his manner was now cool aloofness. “Don’t love me.”

She was shattered, longing to hear him say the same words to her. She wanted to feel his arms around her again, hear him utter the words “be mine, go away with me, be my wife.” Did he have no feelings for her at all? Oh, yes. Gratitude. She had saved his life and knew him to be grateful for that, but she wanted more from him.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” she stammered, and Perriwincle, viewing the scene, looked upon his mistress with sympathy. It was not easy to open your heart to someone only to be rejected. He was confused. What on earth was wrong with this Richard Morgan? He would soon have back his strength and be gone, and there would be little chance for the flower of love to blossom, unless he, Perriwincle, took  a hand in the matter.

At the pain written upon her face, Richard cringed.
Why didn’t I just slap her and get it over with?
he thought. Could he have wounded her more deeply if he had?

He wanted to tell her that he loved her too, but he held himself in restraint, saying only, “You have nothing to be sorry for. You are brave and beautiful and I owe you my life.”

Heather averted her eyes so that he could not see how deeply he had hurt her. She could not force him to feel what he did not feel, but she had thought…..

“Mary has proclaimed herself queen. There will be warfare. We can only hope that she will be victorious.” Heather’s voice was just as cool and aloof as Richard’s as she fought to maintain her dignity.

“She will win. Mary will win,” Tabitha exclaimed, coming up behind Heather. “Right has to overpower wrong, and she will have God on her side.”

“Aye, that she will,” Perriwincle heartily agreed.

Heather relayed to Richard what little she had been able to overhear and he merely nodded in silence until she mentioned the duke’s plan to seek the aid of the King of France.

“He would bribe Henry II to invade England? Even  Satan himself could not be so evil. When the council gets wind of this, they will surely hasten to Mary’s cause, Catholic or Reformist.” His eyes searched the face of Harold Perriwincle, whom he had come to trust. “Will you deliver a letter for me?”

Heather stepped forward but he vehemently shook his head. He would not let her place herself in danger yet again.

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me,” Perriwincle proclaimed, adding, “I cut quite a dapper figure in me day, I did.”

Richard Morgan smiled. “I don’t doubt it, my friend.”

Heather sent Tabitha for paper and a quill, fearing that if she were the one to go it would be nearly impossible to return to the stable. Thomas Bowen would be searching for her even at this moment.  Although he never told her so, Heather knew that without her skill with numbers her father would never have been as successful at his profits.

Tabitha was flushed when she returned, but smiling. “Here you are, sir.” Thrusting the articles into Richard’s hands she curtsied, her eyes never leaving his face. Would she ever find someone this handsome to love? No. No one would look upon her with favor with her plain face and common heritage. Another woman would have been jealous of her mistress, for despite Richard Morgan’s words, Tabitha knew in her heart that he cared for Heather Bowen; it was written on his face whenever he looked her way. Yet Tabitha was happy for Heather. There was not one jealous bone in her entire body for any other person.

Richard hastily scrawled his message, then thrust the missive into the old man’s hands. “Give this to Sir Nicholas Throckmorton. With Northumberland upon the road there should be little danger. I have no doubt that our kind duke has more important things upon his mind at the moment.” He reached out and patted the old man on the shoulder. “But take care lest you end up like me, a pincushion.”

Perriwincle roared with laughter. “I will take care. No pincushion. Not me.”

Leaning back upon his pillows, Richard Morgan closed his eyes, fatigue overcoming him at last. Heather looked down at his face as she left the room, and only when she was alone did she succumb to her tears. She was unprepared for this pain his words had caused her. Nothing she had read or done could have prepared her for this violent desire, this longing to follow him to the end of the world if he would beckon her. She wanted to know everything about him, to tread in his footsteps, know all the people he loved, watch over him, melt her own body into his being.

“But he does not love me.” Her words were mournful, echoing her sadness. She had thought that  loving him as much as she did, he would have to love her back, had thought that he did by the way he had kissed and caressed her. Why, then, had he told her not to love him? The answer was brutal: because he did not love her and didn’t want her to suffer an unrequited love. In his own way he was being kind to her. But it was too late. She was hopelessly in love, caught up in a windmill of desire where she could only wait and dare to dream that he could one day love her too.

Chapter Fourteen

Looking very much like a caged bear as he paced back and forth over the straw-strewn floor of the stable room, Richard waited eagerly for Perriwincle’s return. It had been two days now since Northumberland’s visit to the Bowen residence and Richard was feeling his strength slowly seeping back into his limbs. Soon he would be gone from here, a fact which caused him more pain than elation. He would be gone, never again to see the lovely face, the wide gray eyes of Heather.

She had still tended him faithfully, even after his plea with her not to love him, but she had been distant, the ache in her heart all too plain upon her face. He had wanted to take back his words, to tell her that he loved her, that his fondest wish was that she love him too, but each time he started to say the words the flashing dark eyes of his wife, of Edlyn, came before his eyes like a wall between them. He would never be free of Edlyn. Never. Her father was the most powerful man in the land next to the duke. With the resurgence of the Catholic faith in England, which would surely follow Mary’s ascent to the throne, he would be doubly trapped. There would be no divorce. He should have sought his freedom long before now, while Edward and his Reformists were on the throne. It was too late now.

“No!” It is not too late. Kicking at a small pile of straw, he vented his temper. What kind of a coward was he to give in to his fate so easily? If he really loved Heather Bowen, and he did, he would move heaven and earth to be with her.

He should tell her the truth of his feelings before he left, open up his heart as she had opened up her arms to him. She was a kind and loving woman. She would understand and perhaps wait until he was free, if he became free. Ah, there was the rub. Could he ask her to wait faithfully while he tried to escape from his loveless marriage, growing older and older in a tangled web of passion and desire? Could he do to her what his father had done to Hugh Seton’s mother? If indeed it had been as Hugh Seton had claimed, that he was Morgan’s father’s bastard son.

“I will plant no bastards in her shapely belly!” he vowed. He would not seek her love until he
was
free, risking instead that she would be there if and whenever he was able to claim her. And yet….It would be the bravest, most noble thing he had ever done. Much too easy would be the desire to give in to his temptations and claim her, brand her his own. “I must be away from here while I still have strength of will to do what is right for her.

The mask of pure torture which was branded upon Richard’s face was not lost upon Harold Perriwincle as he entered the room. He knew the reason. Hadn’t he once been in love?

“He loves her, he does, and for some reason he’s holding it all back,” he whispered to himself. He could not have mistaken the looks which flashed between his mistress and this man. He was old, perhaps a fool at times, but he was not blind. “And soon he will be gone and that sweet kind lady condemned to a life of pleasing her father.” He had to do something and soon.

He reasoned that if only they would taste freely of the love that they felt for each other all would be well. Perhaps if he had claimed Elizabeth so many years ago he would not now be a lonely old man. Love. That was what was important in life. Alas, he had learned all too late. But it was not too late for Heather. And what could be the consequence if he helped the lovers along, if he played cupid?

“Why, Richard Morgan will take her away with him, he will.” What could possibly go wrong? If they were caught, Heather’s father would demand that Richard Morgan marry his daughter. Either as mistress or wife Heather would be happy and far away from the beady watchful eyes of Thomas Bowen.

“Aha. Red sage and summer savory!” he said aloud, startling Richard, who thought himself the only one in the room.

“Perriwincle!” he said, turning. “You nearly caused me to have a heart attack,” Richard said with a sad smile.

“Sorry sir,” the old man said with apology. “That certainly would not do.” He took off his old hat and flung it into a pile of hay.

“Well…?”

“The whole country is divided, it is. Even Families have different loyalties, but if you ask me, I think Mary’s support is growing every day.”

“And the council. Have you heard anything?”

Perriwincle shook his head sadly. “No. Bloody cowards they are, if they don’t do something soon.” He wiped his grimy sleeve across his brow. “But I can tell you this, I can. The people are for Mary. The swaggering braggart has vowed to bring in the lady Mary captive or dead, like the rebel she is, but it will be his head, I wager, that will be adorning traitor’s gate. When he passed through London there were people gathered, all right, but watching the soldiers go, these folks were sullen and silent. Not one said ‘Godspeed.’”

“And with Northumberland busy fighting, the council will most certainly be swayed. Vickery and Throckmorton will most ably persuade them to do what is right. And when the council knows that every day people of all sorts are going over to our queen’s side, our victory will be assured.”

“Aye, that it will, sir.” The old man could read well the thoughts in the younger man’s mind. “And you will be leaving us, sir. Soon?”

“First thing tomorrow morning.  I must go to Mary’s side. I am strong enough now to carry a sword, and would do so even if  I had to crawl.”

“How I wish I could go with you.” Harold Perriwincle stared off into space as if remembering another place, another time. Had the years really passed by so quickly? For several moments he was silent, then turned toward Richard with a wide, toothless grin. “I have something that will make you stronger. Herbs that I got from an old Gypsy woman during the war. She gave me the secret, that she did, and I would like to share it with you. It will be my toast to your good fortune and to your happiness.”

“Herbs?”

“Aye. Red sage and summer savory.” He chuckled deep in his throat, and turning, set about to prepare the concoction. It was said that the potion heightened only desire already in the heart. He would see, he would see.

Chapter Fifteen

Heather sat through the evening meal with her eyes downcast, hardly tasting the food which passed between her lips. He would be leaving soon and there was nothing she could say or do to stop him. How would he ever know how much sunshine he had brought into her life?

“Heather, dear, pass the salt to your father. He has asked for it three times.” Blythe Bowen’s voice was filled with concern. She wondered at the sadness she saw in her daughter’s eyes. Was Heather really so unhappy?

“I’m sorry, Father,” Heather answered, passing the large chunk of bread, scooped deeply in the middle, containing salt. Usually a man who came to anger easily, her father was unusually subdued tonight, and what’s more, it seemed that his loyalty to Northumberland was waning. He did not talk of the duke in such glowing terms tonight, nor of Mary in such a derogatory way, and in fact had not said much all day.

“It doesn’t matter,” he answered bleakly. “My appetite has left me.” Wiping his mouth on the tablecloth, which trailed onto the floor and served as a communal napkin, he rose to his feet to return to his counting room.

“What on earth is going on?” Heather heard her mother say. “Thomas is not himself these days. He has me worried.”