The McKinnon (25 page)

“Take these to my brother.” Cullen handed the messenger the two correspondences. From behind him, Cullen heard her bedroom door close. He heard the lock softly thrown into place, and he knew the tears would follow.

Nic waited nearly two weeks for the messenger to return with the responses to his letters. Gregory eagerly popped his head into Nic’s tent and grinned.

“She will be mine! The King has approved. I cannot believe it, Nic. I am to marry Lady Elizabeth. For this, I am in your debt.”

“I offer you my sincerest best wishes, Gregory. You two will make an excellent match,” Nic said.

“I have been given permission to leave and return to London to marry her immediately. I will be leaving soon. Is there anything you want me to take back to your wife or brother?”

“Yes. Can you give me a moment to read the letters the messenger  delivered?”

“I'll be back within a half hour if that gives you enough time?”

Nic nodded.

“I shall see you then.” Gregory dropped the tent flap, and Nic began to read.

“Damn it to hell!” Nic tossed Cullen’s letter aside, furious at the treatment Morgan was receiving from the ladies at court.

He also had no doubt many of the dandies would be sniffing around his woman in an effort to comfort her. He could tell by Cullen’s words Morgan was in distress over the way they had parted. However, Nic saw that the situation was very different from when they had argued at Featherstone.

With equal parts dread and anticipation, Nic picked up Morgan’s parcel. It was heavy and contained more than just a letter. He hoped Morgan’s letter would at least give him hope they could work things out once he returned. Nic slid his knife into the seam popping the seal. His cross, the one he's given her, slipped out. She could not have hurt him more if she had taken his knife and plunged it into his heart.

“Oh, God, this is not good,” he said then closed his eyes at what he felt coming next.

Nic did not believe what he was reading. She was making him honor his word. He had asked her to believe him a man of honor, and now she was expecting him to let her go based on that honor? Could he even do it after all they had shared? He was not sure he could. She had become the breath he needed to live. He could not believe their union had come to this.

"Damn it!," he cursed again. He had bared his soul to her in his letter, hoping it was enough to give him time to make it right.

Nic quickly penned a response to Cullen because time was running short.

“Gregory, please see to it Cullen gets this letter. I wish you all the happiness,” Nic said gravely to the young knight. “Go on, now. Godspeed.”

“I promise I will repay you for this, Nic.” Gregory turned and left Nic alone in his tent. Nic and his men were leaving in less than two hours for Ireland. If fate were kind, he would return.

If fate was not?

Then Morgan would have her wish.

How had they lost five months? Cullen wondered as he and Morgan practiced.

Cullen was finding Morgan to be a natural with the sword. Her reflexes were exceptional, her stamina admirable and knack to anticipate her opponent’s next move uncanny. Nic would be proud if he could see her. Her skill had progressed at astounding speed due solely to her natural ability and dogged determination.

He had written to Nic several times over the last few months but had not received any reply. Cullen was growing more impatient and concerned with each passing day. And with each day that slipped off the calendar, he became just a little more in love with Morgan. He knew he could never act on his growing feelings, but he also knew there was no stopping the love he felt.

Nic was a lucky man and did not fully realize it.

Cullen had the pleasure of her company for five months. However, he prayed each day for Nic’s safe return. Despite everything, Morgan was still in love with his brother.

It was on purpose that Cullen did not attempt to draw her out. It seemed to him they had developed an unspoken agreement not to discuss Nic, or the day he left for Ireland five months ago.

In the months that seemed to roll off the calendar, life for them had changed. Morgan had changed. Cullen had watched her closely over the last few weeks. She laughed on cue, had polite conversation as required, and played the part of the Duchess with style and finesse. To someone who did not know her, she did all the right things and said all the right things. However, Cullen knew Morgan was sleepwalking through life not living it. The only time she came alive was when he was teaching her the art of war.

Usually when they practiced, she was alert. She was focused and on target. Her eyes would sparkle like jewels as they went through the exercises. Cullen loved to see her like that. She was the Morgan he knew she could be given the right circumstances.

Morgan was trying not to think of Nic as she plunged herself into the training. For her the training was her reason for getting up each day. Her anger, aggression, and fear had found an outlet. Cullen was a wonderful teacher and a wonderful friend, but she missed Nic terribly. The ache was never gone.

Plus, she was finding life at court to be unnatural for her. It was all the things Morgan was not and could never be. She detested the constant scheming and unwanted advances.

“Morgan, pay attention!” Cullen barked at her. “I would be able to kill you right now were I a mind to do so. Get your mind on the lessons.”

Morgan stopped her counter-move. He was right, she thought. My head is not in the game. Looking at Cullen, she brushed a lock of hair away from her face that had managed to come loose from under her boy’s hat.

Cullen was finding it difficult to resist the urge to finish the task for her. But he knew better. Damn, he thought, she is beautiful even in her current state of dishevelment.

Nic was so lucky. Cullen shook his head, pushing the thought away.

“I apologize, Morgan. Please, forgive me,” Cullen said sincerely. He never wanted to be sharp with her, or make her the outlet of his frustration.

“No, Cullen, there is nothing to forgive. I am the one who is sorry. I was thinking about how much I hate this place.” Thoughtfully, she added placing her hand on his sleeve. “I need to leave.”

Cullen was in complete agreement. He had seen her temper growing shorter and moods growing blacker with each passing week. He was not sure how much more she could take.

He was not sure how much more he could take either. He put distance between them before he lost all good sense and pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She was his brother’s wife for Christ’s sake.

However, what man could resist her. She was beautiful inside and out, holding a keen intelligence and an honesty, and both were refreshing. Her inner beauty radiated from her like a beacon in a harbor, her light shining to lost ships.

“Morgan, I’ll go to the King as soon as he will give me an audience and ask him for permission to take our leave.”

Morgan’s relieved express was obvious as she looked at him. “Oh, Cullen, thank you. You do not know how much this will mean to me.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

Her soft, warm lips got him thinking. If they would leave, where would they go?

“We're not far from the estate you wanted reside in, right?” he asked withdrawing her arms from his neck. Her embrace was too tempting to allow her to keep touching him.

She smiled at him. “Yes. My mother received the estate from my father as a wedding gift. I have not been to Hearthill Manor since my brothers were babies. However, I have monitored it by sneaking looks at my uncle’s books on those nights I crept out of the tower room. It should support us with ease. I won't be a burden to you or to Nic.”

Morgan’s comment surprised Cullen. First, because she thought she was a burden, and second because it was the first time she had spoken Nic’s name since the day he left.

“Morgan, you could never be a burden. Nic wouldn't allow you to think that way. Neither will I. Protecting you and having your company have been my greatest pleasure.”

She sighed, feeling weary and alone.

“Morgan, I’m sorry, but I must tell you I have heard from your uncle, and on two occasions, he has sent an emissary and armed escort to deliver you back to Seabridge. He has made it perfectly clear he feels you should be at home and not at Court as long as Nic is actively deployed.”

Morgan gasped involuntarily at the thought of going back to that wretched place.

Cullen was quick to belay her concern. “No, Morgan, please do not get upset." Even having no real clue of the atrocities her uncle was capable of carrying out, Nic had promised not to send her back because he understood it was not what Morgan wanted. Cullen certainly was not going to let her uncle take her back, knowing that her uncle was a monster.

"I have refused this, of course, and thankfully, Henry agrees, but there are matters we need to settle. Unfortunately, some of these matters do involve your uncle. It is most regrettable, but also unavoidable.”

“I was wondering at what point he would surface and try to maneuver this to his advantage.” Morgan let out a long, audible sigh. “To be honest, I have been holding my breath waiting for him to act. He's way too silence and complacent. That alone leads me to believe he is planning something.”

Cullen did not want to tell her there had been three attempts to kidnap her that he and his men had thwarted. Her uncle had been anything except complacent, and there were eleven dead men to prove it, too.

“I just wish Nic were here to deal with him.” Cullen was beginning to feel frustrated. Nic should be here. Was it not Nic's responsibility to see to the safety of his wife? Yet Cullen knew Nic would be here if it were possible. It was not Nic’s fault Henry had sent him to Ireland. Still, it did not change the fact that under normal circumstances it was not Cullen’s place to defend her, although he would gladly take that place.

“Listen, I have no issue standing in as Nic’s proxy where you are concerned. However, I must tell you, I am not sure how much weight I will carry. Nic is your husband and has legal right to you and the lands. Unfortunately, I have no rights to you, legal or otherwise.”

Cullen regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. He never planned to reveal even a hint of his true feelings for her, and he had all but declared his love with that one small statement.

Cullen gazed at Morgan and knew he had to tell her. “Morgan, Lord Brentwood is claiming foul on your marriage and the events leading up to it. I had hoped to avoid telling you, but he has filed a petition with the King to have your marriage declared invalid due to the circumstances under which it occurred. I fear your behavior on finding out Nic had married you is well-known. It is also well-known that Nic asked the King for an annulment.”

Morgan’s eyes went wide. She had no idea her past actions could be so damaging to her. Could her uncle gain the upper hand by claiming her marriage a sham?

She panicked. “Cullen, Nic asked for the annulment because he felt I wanted it and perhaps I did. Maybe, I still do. I don’t know anymore.” Morgan placed her face in her hands and let out a small groan of frustration. She looked back at him, all misgivings aside. “I do know this. I would rather be Nic’s wife than my uncle’s ward. At least, I know that I will survive Nic’s actions. No one ever died of a broken heart. A broken neck is quite another story.” She looked at Cullen. Her voice had been expressionless like her face. “He would kill me. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know. I also know I have Nic’s permission to act as his representative; however, your uncle can still challenge this right. I’ll approach the King this evening about leaving.”

“The sooner the better as far as I am concerned.

Morgan stopped and pulled Cullen back by the sleeve. “Cullen, there is more, isn’t there? Talk to me.” Morgan had grown to know her friend, and something was definitely amiss.

“Morgan, I think I need to send someone to find out what is going on in Ireland. I would go myself, but I don't dare leave you in the care of any other. The danger to you is great and is still not past. If your uncle loses to the King, he will try other means.“ Cullen did not want to think about what those “other means” would be.

“Why do you feel the need to go to Ireland?” Morgan questioned. She had her suspicions.

“It's not like Nic to be totally silent.” Even when they were in the most covert of missions, Nic always managed to send reports back across enemy lines to Henry.

“Are you saying Nic has not even written to you?”

“I have not heard a single word in over four months. I do not want to distress you, but no one has heard from the troops. Not even the King knows their movements. I’m not feeling good about this, Morgan. From a military point, it is unusual and not good.”