The McKinnon (26 page)

Morgan’s color drained. She felt faint as thoughts began to run through her head. He had voiced her darkest fears.

“Cullen, what are you saying? Nic might be dead?”

Before he could answer, she lifted her chin in defiance of the fates. “No. I will not believe it.”

Her distress was obvious and Cullen could have kicked himself for doing this to her when it may not even be necessary. If he had any doubts about Morgan’s feelings toward his brother, he pushed them aside. Morgan was still in love with Nic--end of story.

“No, Morgan that is not what I’m saying.” He placed his hands on her shoulders tenderly, cupping her upper arms in comfort and support. “I’m just saying the situation is not normal.” He dropped his hands before he gave into the urge to hold her. They were out in the open, and so far, no one had figured out the young man he trained with was the Duchess. “It could be nothing. I just don't have the answers.”

Morgan squared her shoulders. “Then we will go and find those answers. I’ll go with you. It will place me outside the reach of my uncle. Cullen, you must get the King to agree to let us leave. Use the silence of Nic and his troops as the reasoning for us to go. We have to find him. He needs us. I can feel it. Come,” she said, grabbing his hand and turning back to the castle. “We have work to do. We’ll see just how well her majesty has taught me to use my looks and gracious ways to get what I want. And right now, I want to go to Ireland.”

Cullen knew he might as well get his trunk packed. He also had to accept this woman was perfect for Nic.

“It is done.” Cullen closed the door to Morgan’s room.

“When do we leave?” Morgan asked anxiously. Waiting patiently was certainly not her best trait. Morgan understood how easily the King could deny her request to leave the royal court.

Cullen was successful in securing the permission to leave. That grant came directly from the King the night before, and Cullen had to admit this was carried out in no small part to Morgan’s persuasion. It would seem the Queen had done her part to show Morgan the finer art of manipulation of the stronger sex. Heaven help Nic once he got back because after seeing her in action, Cullen knew his brother did not stand a chance against this woman. She had the King agreeing to things the strongest diplomat and most seasoned negotiator could never have accomplished. They were leaving for Ireland day after tomorrow.

As Morgan packed her belongings, a knock on the door interrupted her. She was stunned to see Sir Gregory, and his very pregnant wife, Lady Elizabeth, standing in front of her. Elizabeth looked embarrassed. It was common knowledge she was much further along in her pregnancy than the marriage would have allowed. Not the first baby conceived before the priest was involved, but this one had speculation running rampant through the Court.

“Good morning. What may I do for you?” Morgan politely inquired.

“May we come in, Lady McKinnon,” Gregory asked politely. “We would like to speak to you in private.”

“Of course, please forgive my manners.” Morgan was fighting the urge to throw them out. However, there was something different about Elizabeth since she married Gregory.

“Please, Elizabeth come and take a seat where you can cushion your back.”

Morgan watched as she sat in the most comfortable chair in her suite then she showed Gregory to the chair next to his wife. Morgan seated herself across from them.

“Now, please let me know how I may assist you,” Morgan asked politely and with genuine concern.

Elizabeth began crying.

Morgan rose to get the distraught Elizabeth water. “Elizabeth you are distressed. Please, let me get you something to drink. You must not allow yourself to become so upset. Think of your child.”

“No, I do not deserve you kindness. Please, I pray you to sit. I fear I have caused you great hurt, Your Grace.” Elizabeth looked back at her husband for support. Morgan saw love, support, and strength between the couple. Nic was going to be very disappointed when he returned, she ventured.

Gently, Gregory urged his wife. “Go on, Lizzy. You owe her this apology. You owe it to Nic, too.”

“Yes.” She hung her head in shame. “I owe you an apology, and so much more. Oh, Your Grace, if I could right this wrong, I would. You must believe me, Lady Morgan. I was foolish, not thinking about how one action could so deeply and permanently hurt others. I was angry with Nic for turning me away. I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to hurt him.” Elizabeth wept.

Morgan could see she was hurting, and her confession helped to cleanse her soul. Morgan hoped the cleansing would not be at her expense.

“It will be all right, Liz. Let us finish this,” Gregory urged.

Elizabeth collected herself. Taking a deep breath, she turned to look at Gregory. The look passing between them was so intimate that Morgan almost felt as if she were an intruder in her own room.

Elizabeth began to speak again. “When I married Gregory it made me see how precious love can be. I love my husband deeply. Now I see how Nic felt about you the day he left.” Hanging her head in shame, she finally confessed what Morgan could not believe. “Nic did not want me, Lady Morgan. He never did. Here, this belongs to you. I purposefully did not deliver it.”

She pulled out the letter that had gone undelivered, and with trembling hands handed it over to Morgan.

Morgan saw the handwriting. Her heart almost stopped beating in her chest.

“My Lady, I had forgotten about it until yesterday. Gregory and I were discussing Nic’s part in us coming together when I remembered Nic had written to the Queen, to Cullen, and--”

“And to me.”

Morgan sat in stunned silence. Gracefully rising from her chair, she walked to the window slit. She stood looking at the far countryside. She was at a loss for words. What was she feeling? Morgan wondered at her lack of anger. She turned back to the couple, crossed the space between them then seated herself before she spoke. Morgan leaned over and took the young woman’s hands in hers.

“So you hoped to find forgiveness?” Morgan was not expecting an answer, and to her amazement there was nothing to forgive. “Elizabeth, I have found life is too short to linger on those things we cannot go back and change. Am I hurt? Yes, to be sure. Do I forgive you? If I say nay then this act accomplishes nothing.” Morgan, feeling well past her years, looked deeply into Elizabeth’s eyes. “I pray you will forgive yourself. That will be enough for me.”

Releasing Elizabeth’s hands, Morgan turned to Gregory. “I’m sorry Gregory, but I must ask Elizabeth a question.” Morgan turned back to Elizabeth. “Elizabeth, I must know the truth. Is the child Nic’s?”

Gregory broke in, “Allow me to answer. No, Your Grace, the child is mine.” Gregory proudly confessed as he sat there holding his wife’s hand. “I have been involved with and have loved Elizabeth for years.”

Relief washed over Morgan. How would Nic feel knowing another was raising his child? Fortunately, that question would not need answering, at least not today, and not with Elizabeth’s child.

“I am happy for you and the contentment you have found in each other. I appreciate you finally coming forward. It took courage to face me, and your act took support, Gregory, for her to do this. I pray you always have this with each other. Love is fragile and precious.” Standing she was dismissing them. “Now, if you will please excuse me. I have packing to do.”

Morgan showed them to the door.

Elizabeth reached out and hugged her. “Good luck, Lady McKinnon. You'll find him. Have faith in his love for you. He does not give love lightly, therefore, I cannot believe he would give up on it any easier.”

“Morgan, you must open it. To not open it accomplishes nothing.” Cullen held the letter out to her in hopes she might take it. After they ate a late supper, she told Cullen what had happened earlier in the day. 

Morgan shook her head, keeping her hands in her lap. “No, Cullen, I don't want to know.” She knew she was acting like a coward.

“Very well, Morgan, but remember this, whatever is in the letter was Nic’s wish that you do know.”

Later after the castle had quieted, and all was peaceful except Morgan’s rampaging thoughts, she threw the covers back with an exasperated sigh and got out of bed. Picking up the ermine robe, she covered herself from the growing cold of the deepening fall weather.

She walked over to the table then stared at the letter for some time before she finally gained the courage to pick it up. Her name was written on the front. Running her hand over the confident and sweeping handwriting, she closed her eyes in hopes of feeling him as he had written it to her. Was he angry? Was he sad? She did not know what to think now that she had all the pieces.

When she opened her eyes, it was as if she was seeing her name for the first time: Lady Morgan McKinnon, Seventh Duchess of Seabridge.

Why had it not occurred to her she had not lost herself in becoming Nic’s wife? She had become a part of something better in joining her name to his, her body with his, her life with his. She was still Morgan the Duchess, as she had always been and always would be, but she had become much, much more. Now she was Morgan the wife, Morgan the supporter, and Morgan the mother.

Protectively, she placed her hand over her rounding belly. The fluttering had started weeks ago, making the baby a reality. She knew it would not be long before the physical proof of the love she and Nic had shared would be clear to everyone.

She had hidden, even from Cullen, she was five months pregnant. The heavier winter clothing she had taken to wearing had been a good camouflage up to this point. However, the clothes would not hide the baby growing inside her much longer. And she was fearful for the safety of her child, wanting to protect this tiny life at all cost.

Morgan blew the dust off her letter, and with shaky hands, broke the seal and then began to read.

Morgan resisted the urge to let her knees give way. She had to stand strong. Nic was always foremost in her prayers. “Oh, God, Elizabeth, if you had only brought this to me sooner.” Anguish washed over her.

It was her turn to feel guilty and ashamed for her actions. Nic had sent her the words she longed to hear, and she had asked for her freedom. No wonder he said he was in hell in his last letter to Cullen.

He was asking her to give him the opportunity to make things right between them, and she had thrown his vow and the fact he touted himself as an honorable man, in his face. What if he had moved on? Maybe that was why she had never heard back from him. Then why had he not reached out to Henry?

Perhaps he had plans of divorcing himself from her and their child.

What if he thought her child was the product of another affair? That would prove ugly.

How could things have managed to get so turned around?

She loved Nic with every fiber of her being, and she had pushed him away thinking he had betrayed her. Elizabeth’s confession and his letter confirmed just how wrong she had been.

Cullen heard her stirring in her chamber.

“Morgan?” Cullen knocked softly on the door of the inner sanctuary. It was improper to be in the Lady’s chamber this late, but he knew she was in distress to one degree or another and could not allow it if he could help. She was strong, but she was vulnerable where her feelings for Nic were concerned.

“Morgan,  please, open the door.”

Morgan opened the door as  she was wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Oh, Cullen, I have been such a fool. ”

Morgan handed Cullen Nic’s letter. He read the first lines then closed his eyes. He was an intruder into his brother’s mind and heart and besides, Cullen knew where Nic's message was heading. Nic was deeply in love with his wife, and she had never received the words he had intended for her to read soon enough.

“Nic still loved me at the time he wrote this letter,” Morgan said, not bothering to hide her shame.

Who knew how he felt now? She asked him to give her freedom, saying wrongfully their desires were moving down different paths. She told him she wanted her freedom, so they could move on.

“I shoved his honor into his face, forced his hand not knowing he had bared his soul, begging me to allow him to try to make it right between us.”

Cullen had few words of comfort for her. At least she was not crying. That was a good sign.

“Listen to me, Morgan. We'll leave tomorrow to look for Nic. Once we find him, I know him well enough to know that he will give you every opportunity to explain your actions. After all, you did not get this until today, and I will back you up on this. Surely, he will see you would have made an entirely different decision.”