Chapter Nine

A fter parting ways with Gwendoline and Piers, they continued travelling south for the next sennight. Though Robert knew that becoming lovers had been a grave risk, he could not deny Morwenna. And the nights he spent in her arms only bound him closer to her. Her wounds had healed, except for slight bruising, but despite the way she slept beside him, he could tell that she was starting to distance herself.

Fortune had smiled upon them, and he could see the King John's entourage in the distance. It was late afternoon, and they could take shelter among the king's travelling court. With luck, he could seek the audience he needed to determine his fate.

Morwenna, in turn, intended to ask about the queen's pendant. She had grown quieter as they neared the king's encampment, almost sad.

‘Are you nervous?' he asked.

She nodded. This morn, she had donned her mother's gown again, and she'd braided and bound up her hair. Around her throat, she wore the pendant.

Robert slowed the pace of the horses. ‘There's more, isn't there?'

This time, she turned to face him. ‘I'm afraid that I won't find any answers at all. Or worse, that they won't be the ones I want. What if my mother was a serving maid? What if she had no connection to the queen and the pendant was stolen?'

He reached out to take her hand, squeezing it gently. ‘We'll find out the truth, whatever it is.'

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Most of all, I'm afraid that I won't see you again.'

‘What do you mean?' He wasn't intending to abandon her here.

‘I mean that we don't know what will happen after we meet with the king.'

‘It could be dangerous,' he acknowledged, ‘but we've done nothing wrong.'

‘We have no gift for him,' she pointed out. ‘And he may not agree to listen to us. He's more concerned about his wars in France.' She ventured a faint smile. ‘Unless you have an estate in Normandy that you can give to the king?'

He shook his head. ‘Unfortunately, no.' But she had a strong point that the king would be more amenable if they had a gift to bring. He knew Morwenna was right, but he couldn't leave his people to suffer any longer than necessary. It was a grave risk, but he hoped the king would listen and somehow intervene.

‘Robert,' she murmured. ‘Could we stop for a moment?'

He drew his horse's reins. ‘Of course. What is it?'

She dismounted and stood upon the hillside, staring down at the tents before them. He sensed her uncertainty, and he wondered how to reassure her.

He moved his arm around her waist, and she suddenly clung to him, burying her face against his tunic. ‘Be with me one last time,' she pleaded. ‘Because everything will change as soon as we ride among them.'

He understood then that her fears went deeper than apprehensions about the king. It was about the changes that would happen between them.

She lifted her face to him and brought his mouth to hers. The moment she kissed him, he lost himself. Something about this woman went deeper than physical touch. When he was with her, the rest of the world disappeared. She kissed him with desperation, and he met her need with his own heart-racing desire.

Against the fabric of her kirtle, he reached to cup her breast. The fullness rested in his palm, and he stroked her nipple. She bit her lip and sighed as he caressed her. The tight bud was her sensitive place, and he loosened his trews. She curved her hand over his manhood, and he gritted his teeth at the pleasure of her touch. With her thumb, she drew a circle over the damp head of him, and his own breathing grew ragged.

‘You're wearing too many clothes,' he gritted out.

She laughed and lifted her skirts to her knees. ‘I think you'll find a way around it.'

Her eagerness made him want her more. Only this time, he wanted to caress her until her hands dug into the earth, her back arching as he pleasured her.

There was a large limestone boulder nearby, a flattened stone, similar to an ancient altar. ‘Lie down,' he commanded.

She did, lifting her skirts even higher, but he wanted more than a swift coupling. Instead, he knelt before her, sliding her skirts to her waist, baring her body before him. He bent between her legs, his breath against her intimate opening.

Though he had done nothing yet, he saw the way she anticipated his touch. ‘Robert,' she murmured. Slowly, she spread her legs for him, but he wasn't going to join with her. At least, not yet.

Instead, he cupped her hips with both hands and lifted her to his mouth. And when he tasted between her folds, she cried out, shuddering against him. She couldn't speak, but he saw the tremor that took hold. He used his tongue to explore her intimately, kissing her deeply. He noticed the way she jolted when he caressed her hooded flesh.

‘Robert, I can't bear it,' she moaned.

But he wasn't finished with her yet. He brought her own hands to her breasts and ordered, ‘Touch yourself through the silk. I won't stop until I've finished you.'

She did, and he intensified his efforts, gripping her hips as he feasted upon her. And when he worked her with his tongue, he slid a thumb inside her and it drove her over the edge. She gripped his thumb, shattering as she arched hard.

‘Take me,' she begged.

He unfastened his trews and drove hard into her slick opening. Her wetness surrounded him, and she gasped as he invaded and withdrew. He could no longer be gentle, for he had lost all control. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he thrust hard against her.

Morwenna started to pant to the rhythm of his penetrations, but he wanted more. He wanted her writhing against him, and he knew her sensitive places. He slowed his pace and pulled back, feeling the slickness of her body before he thrust again. The anticipation seemed to build higher, and when he pressed his thumb against her hooded flesh again, she gave a soft cry. He took her gently, sliding in deep as he caressed her. She strained against him, trying to pull his body closer. But he tormented her sweetly, loving the way she was squeezing him within her depths. Her breathing had become swifter, and he held her in a firm grasp, lifting her slightly higher.

‘Faster,' she pleaded. ‘I need more.' She was so wet, and it took every ounce of control not to shout as she started to meet his thrusts with her hips. God above, she knew how to drive him wild. With her legs around her waist, she arched to meet him, and he quickened his pace.

No longer was he gentle, but instead, he thrust hard, gripping her body in a primal rhythm like a conqueror. His arousal was so thick and hard, he could not stop himself from pounding against her. This time, he surrendered to his needs, taking her as he pressed towards the edge of his own release.

He claimed her, and the speed of his penetrations made her tense, trembling hard as she broke apart. She arched against him, gripping his hair as she took him deep. And this time when he entered and withdrew, she moaned, ‘Robert, I love you.'

The words washed over him, and he no longer cared about anything else, save her. He needed to show Morwenna how he felt, for there were no words.

She kissed him and climaxed a second time, her body erupting as she milked his length. Her kiss muffled the shout as he emptied himself inside her. Aftershocks claimed them both, and he could not stop himself from kissing her again, tasting her swollen mouth.

For long moments, he lay inside her, her body flat against the stone like an offering. Her hair had come undone from the braids, and her lips were swollen. Never had he seen anyone more beautiful.

‘It's going to be all right,' he promised. ‘I will take care of you, Morwenna.'

She sat up and embraced him while he remained inside her. And for a moment, they forgot about the rest of the world and what lay ahead.

They reached the top of the hillside and began their descent into the valley leading towards the king's entourage where dozens of tents were set up. The entire encampment was surrounded by soldiers spaced at even intervals. As they drew closer, four guards on horseback approached, armed with spears.

‘Who are you, and why have you come?' the captain of the guards asked. Unlike the other soldiers, he was an older man, and his beard held threads of grey.

Robert held out his hands to show he meant no harm. ‘I am Robert of Penrith, son of Degal of Penrith. I have come to seek an audience with the king about my lands.'

But the older man's gaze was fixed upon Morwenna. ‘And the lady?'

‘She is with me,' he answered. Then to protect her honour, he added, ‘Lady Morwenna is my betrothed wife.'

The captain studied her and then lifted a hand to ask the other soldiers to fall back into position. ‘You may request an audience, but I should warn you, the king may decide not to grant it.'

‘I understand.' Robert inclined his head, and they rode behind the captain who led them to a small enclosure. Two young lads came to take care of the horses, and Robert helped Morwenna dismount. Though she braved a smile, her face was pale with worry.

He offered his arm as they followed the captain, but as they passed the tents, he grew aware of the folk staring at her. Some turned to whisper, but when he met their gaze, they looked away. He wasn't certain why Morwenna's presence had caused such a stir, but he intended to find out.

The captain led him to one of the tents, but it was clear that this one was not a royal dwelling. ‘Lady Morwenna, you may join the queen's ladies. Penrith, come with me.'

He hadn't expected to be separated from her, but Robert supposed it would be better this way. ‘I will see you later,' he promised, touching his cheek to hers.

She gripped his hand and looked as if she wanted to say something but didn't. ‘Later then,' she agreed.

He followed the captain past more rows of tents until he found an open area near a fire where members of the king's travelling court were present. All wore finer clothing than his, with silks, embroidery, and gold. He saw many men standing with gifts of gold and silver, along with elaborate wood carvings.

Robert grew conscious of his simple attire, wondering if his decision to come without a gift was a mistake. He had nothing at all to offer, save his loyalty. And now, he wasn't so certain it would be enough.

As he studied each of the king's subjects, he caught sight of another man standing near the other side of the tent—Lord Alfred of Penrith. Immediately, Robert turned away, hoping the man had not seen him. Rage boiled inside him, for he wanted the earl dead after what he'd done to Morwenna. Robert tried to keep control of the violent emotions. Never had he imagined that Alfred would be here. The man was a clear threat to everything Robert valued—not just Penrith, but Morwenna, too. And from the elaborately carved chest in his arms, Alfred undoubtedly had gold to give to the king. If the earl denied Robert's accusations, the king would believe him.

Worst of all, if Alfred learned of Morwenna's presence, he might threaten her again.

Never in her life had Morwenna felt so out of place. So many of the ladies were staring at her. Though she murmured a greeting, few spoke in return. Were it possible to escape them, she would have tried.

At last, one of the women approached her. ‘I am Sarah of Holyrede.' She was an older woman, with grey strands threaded through her dark hair.

‘I am Morwenna,' she answered.

The older woman gave a nod. ‘And where are you from?'

‘My father brought my brother and me to Penrith two years ago. We travelled a lot over the years, so I've lived in many places.'

The woman studied her for a time. Then her gaze fixed upon Morwenna's throat. ‘Where did you get that necklace?'

Her heart began pounding, for she sensed that this woman knew already. She decided to be honest, in the hope that Lady Holyrede could reveal the truth.

‘It belonged to my mother. My father gave it to me after she died.'

The woman's expression grew wary. ‘Did he tell you that, Lady Morwenna?' She shook her head. ‘Your mother isn't dead. But be of care. There are many in the king's court who are her enemies.'

‘You knew her?' Morwenna gaped. ‘But how is that possible? I haven't even told you her name.'

Lady Holyrede sighed. ‘You are the very image of Rochelle. The king, if he decides to grant you an audience, will know exactly who you are.'

So that was why the people had stared at her. And while she had wanted to learn about her past, it was starting to make her uncomfortable. Why had her mother made enemies? Was it somehow connected to the queen?

‘I had heard that the queen gave my mother this pendant,' Morwenna ventured, hoping for more answers.

At that, Lady Holyrede snorted. ‘Not the current queen, I vow. She is hardly more than a child.' With a shake of her head, she added, ‘The pendant belonged to Queen Eleanor at one time. She might have meant for King John to give it to his wife, but of course, he gave it to his mistress. It caused quite an uproar.'

A sudden terror seized her stomach as Morwenna realised what the woman was saying. ‘Then my mother...'

‘Was the king's mistress, aye,' Lady Holyrede finished. ‘You weren't the first royal bastard, and you won't be the last.'

Morwenna felt as if the air had left her lungs. She sank upon a low stool, feeling faint. ‘I don't understand.' If she was a bastard daughter of King John, why had she been raised as a miller's daughter? Did he even know of her existence? Somehow, she didn't believe so.

Had Eldreth stolen her as the midwife believed? Or had her true mother given her away?

And what of Brian? Was he truly her brother? All these years, they had protected one another. Were they even related? A thousand questions spun within her mind, blurring her future.

She tried to calm the turmoil of emotions, centring on finding the truth. ‘Do you know where my mother is now?'

The older woman paused. ‘I suppose she's still at Banmouth, just south of here. Her husband died only a few years ago.'

The thought of meeting her mother both terrified her and filled her with hope. At last, she would have her answers. For if this was true, it meant that she might have the chance to marry Robert.

She couldn't stop the tremulous smile that spread over her face. ‘Do you think the king would allow me an audience?'

‘It's difficult to say. King John is given to moods, and no one knows what he will decide.' She eyed her closely. ‘I would not trust the women here, either. Especially his new queen.' With that, Lady Holyrede inclined her head and left.

Morwenna hardly cared what the other women thought of her any more. None of it mattered. For the first time in her life, she was starting to believe that she was a woman of worth. She straightened her shoulders and felt a sense of calm descending upon her. It was strange to think that one conversation had held such a strong effect on her.

She stood up from the stool and left the tent. Right now, she wanted to tell Robert what she had learned. She wasn't certain where to find him, but she could ask the guards.

Outside, the sky was growing darker. She walked past the rows of tents, and as she passed by a few groups of men, Morwenna began to realise that it was dangerous to go in search of Robert alone. It would have been wiser to remain with the women. She nearly turned back, but then she saw one of the soldiers walking towards her.

‘Can you tell me where I might find—?' Her words broke off when he continued on his way without stopping.

‘Who are you looking for?' came a man's voice.

She turned and saw Lord Alfred of Penrith. In an instant, fear turned her skin to ice, and her back ached in memory. The smug expression on his face revealed his satisfaction at her discomfort. Why was he here?

Her first instinct was to flee, but if she did, others might think she had a reason to run. Instead, she forced herself to gather her courage. ‘I am looking for Robert.'

‘So, he did survive.'

She could almost imagine the words he held back... I was hoping he hadn't.

But she answered, ‘He did. Now, if you'll excuse me.'

‘Not yet.' He came to stand beside her. ‘You've saved me the time and inconvenience of my search. I've lost too many men, and both of you are to blame for it.'

She continued walking, ignoring him. When he tried to reach for her arm, she unsheathed her eating knife and held it out. ‘You will not touch me.'

‘Sheathe your claws, little cat,' he warned. ‘If you cooperate willingly, I might overlook those crimes. You know where Gwendoline is, don't you?'

So that was what this was about. Gwendoline's father was still hunting her after she'd escaped with Piers.

Morwenna shook her head. ‘I do not know where she is now.' And if she did, she wouldn't tell him that. ‘But she left Penrith of her own accord. I believe you locked her away.' She let the words fall, hinting that rebellion had caused Gwendoline's escape. She wanted to believe that her friend had found happiness with Piers, now that they were married. But she had no idea where the pair of them had gone.

A look of irritation flashed over Lord Penrith's face, and he stared at her as if reconsidering his tactics. ‘Do you know why I am here?'

‘I presume you're trying to find your daughter.'

His face turned sly. ‘No, I've brought His Excellency the taxes, tithes, and rents. He will be most pleased.'

‘You're bribing him.'

‘I am only ensuring his favour,' the earl corrected her. ‘But you would do well to remember that I have his ear. After the harvest, there will be more gold. King John knows this.' She didn't lower her blade, and he stared at her. ‘Perhaps I'll tell him that you stole the queen's pendant. What do you think he would do to you?'

She gave no reaction to his open threat. ‘Take me to him, and we will find out.' Though she kept her words calm, inwardly, she was terrified. Would the king recognise her at all? What if Lady Holyrede was wrong about her mother? A hundred things could go wrong, and the risk was grave.

Her heart was pounding, as Penrith met her gaze with a thin smile. ‘Oh, be assured, I will be speaking about this...situation...with the king. But you won't receive an audience. Why would the king want to speak with someone like you?' His gaze swept over her attire. ‘Pretend to wear finery and gold all you like Morwenna. It doesn't change who you are. King John has no use for you.'

With that, he turned his back on her and walked away. Morwenna remained in place, and seconds later, a hand shot out and covered her mouth. In the darkness, she tried to scream, but the sound was muffled as the man dragged her into one of the tents.

‘Don't say a word.'

She nearly fainted with relief when she realised it was Robert. He lowered his hand and crushed her into his embrace. ‘You cannot walk alone, Morwenna. Not here. It's not safe.'

‘I'm sorry. I was trying to find you and... Penrith was suddenly there.' She welcomed his arms around her, and she closed her eyes, resting her face against his chest. ‘Did you hear what he said?'

‘No. I only just saw him leaving.' His voice turned grim. ‘I want him dead for hurting you.'

She clung to him, taking comfort in his embrace. ‘He made threats, but he didn't touch me.'

‘Had I known he would be here, I never would have brought you.'

Though Morwenna realised he was talking about her safety, a pang caught in her throat. ‘Do you think he'll go to the king?'

‘You won't be here long enough to find out.' He drew back and framed her face with his hands. ‘I'm going to make the arrangements tonight.'

She stepped out of his arms and regarded him. ‘You're planning to send me away?'

He nodded. ‘It's better this way.'

‘And where do you plan for me to go?' She faced him, suddenly wary of his declaration. Why was he suddenly trying to make decisions for her? And why should he get to decide her fate? He was not her husband. This was her life, not his.

‘The nuns can give you sanctuary,' he began. ‘I can send word to my uncle for an escort to Saint Michael's Well.'

No. Not again. She put her hand to his lips to cut him off. ‘Listen to me, Robert. I am not about to go into hiding at the nunnery.' He needed to know what she'd learned about her mother, about being King John's bastard daughter. ‘I've just learned from Lady Holyrede that my mother is still alive. If I go anywhere, it will be to find Lady Rochelle of Banmouth,' she insisted. ‘I need to know what happened. Why she gave us to Eldreth...if that's the truth.' Part of her wanted to believe that she and Brian had been stolen. Or perhaps someone had tried to search for them. ‘And I need to know who my family is.'

Robert appeared uncertain about the information. ‘What if Lady Holyrede wasn't telling you the truth about your mother? Or what if you don't like the answers you find?'

Morwenna lifted her chin. ‘They were staring at me today, Robert. Because I look like Lady Rochelle. I need to understand who I am.' She took his hand in hers. ‘I want to believe that she is my true mother. And that the king is my father.'

He reached out to trace the line of her face but said nothing. She reached out to cover his hand, the ache resonating within her heart. Didn't he understand what this meant to her? ‘What if I am, Robert? What happens to us then?'

Her greatest hope was that she could be worthy of marrying Robert. Her heart belonged to him, and when he'd lied to the soldiers, introducing her as his betrothed wife, she had wanted nothing more than it to be true.

‘We don't know what the truth is,' he acknowledged, ‘but whether or not you're the king's daughter, it's not safe for you here. Not with Lord Penrith.'

She knew that. But if she had even a drop of royal blood, it gave her the advantage she needed. ‘I want to see King John,' she insisted. ‘He was not yet married when he met my mother. I want to see if he recognises me the way the others do.'

‘I'm not certain if he'll agree to see either of us,' Robert admitted. ‘Gaining an audience is more challenging than I thought it would be. He refused to see any of us today—even those noblemen who brought gifts.'

‘Grant me one more day,' she said. ‘If I cannot gain an audience, then I will go to seek the answers from my mother.' Emotion gathered up inside, and she closed her eyes to push back the raw feelings.

‘Do you really want to open up the past?' he asked gently. ‘What if she's not...who you want her to be?'

Morwenna was afraid to voice the truth, uncertain of what to say. It meant making herself vulnerable, laying her heart bare before him. But if she didn't take the risk, he wouldn't understand her reasons.

She steeled herself and admitted, ‘Because if I do have noble blood, it gives us the chance to be together.'

Her words hung between them, suspended by hope and fear. In his eyes, she saw the flare of desire, before it faded to resignation. ‘I don't want you to get your hopes up, Morwenna.'

Her cheeks reddened with disappointment. ‘What do you mean?'

‘I may not be able to regain my lands,' he admitted. ‘And if that happens, I may have nothing left to offer you.'

‘I don't need wealth or riches or land,' she said. ‘The only thing I've ever wanted is you.'

But in his expression, she saw the trace of failure. ‘It's not enough for me. I don't want to give up on Penrith or my people. I cannot surrender what was mine and live my life travelling from place to place. It's no life at all.'

‘It's the only life I've ever known,' she answered. For a long moment, she stared at him, wondering what sort of future he saw. Were they really such worlds apart? If he didn't regain Penrith, would he be unable to live a life as a commoner? Or what if she learned that Lady Holyrede had lied and there was no royal blood—or even noble blood—in her veins? She was starting to feel as if the ground were shifting beneath her feet.

‘Will you try again on the morrow for an audience with the king?' she asked at last.

He nodded. ‘But I don't know if he will see me. Some say if you wait long enough, you might be fortunate. But I am not certain I've done enough—especially since I have nothing to offer.' He paused a moment. ‘I thought at first that I could plead my case and ask for help. But you were right. Without gold, none of it matters to King John. And where does that leave me? With nothing at all.'

She could feel him slipping away. Anguish rose up within her, for she sensed that if she went to find her family, she would not see him again. If he could not regain his lands, he would likely go to fight in the Crusades like her brother. And then, she would lose both of them.

‘You have me,' she said, feeling the heaviness in her voice.

‘But I may not be able to provide for you.' He stroked her hair. ‘I don't want a life where we wander from place to place, fighting to survive.'

‘It's not so terrible.' She met his gaze. ‘There's no responsibility for anyone but ourselves. We can go anywhere.'

But from the expression on his face, she could tell that it wasn't enough for him. And it broke her heart to know it.