Chapter Twelve

N o one spoke to her in the women's tent, and for now, Morwenna was grateful. Her life had been upended during the past few weeks, and now she was left to wonder about whether she was truly a bastard daughter of the king. She could hardly grasp the truth of it.

For a moment, she had felt a sense of disappointment that she meant nothing to John. Though what had she truly expected? She was only another forgotten daughter.

Geoffrey had been the only father she'd ever known—and he was gone. He'd made countless mistakes, but he had done his best to take care of her. He'd also saved the gown and pendant for her, as Rochelle had requested.

Morwenna was starting to realise that it truly didn't matter whether her father was the king or a nobleman. The only difference was that now she felt as if she had the right to desire more than a serf should dare.

She had hesitated to say yes to marrying Robert, not because she didn't wish to wed him—but because she was afraid. They had no land, nowhere to live.

For a moment, she sat in the corner, trying to decide what to do. She hadn't told Robert of her suspicion, but she had already missed her courses. Certain smells bothered her, and she'd nearly retched when she had passed by someone roasting a fresh fish. It was not the sickness during the morning that many women complained of. No, this sickness lasted from the moment she awoke until she fell asleep at night. The only food she could tolerate was bread and cheese but only in small quantities.

One of the women poured wine, and Morwenna stood. Already she felt the familiar nausea, and she didn't want to wait for the women to begin eating something. She needed fresh air and a moment to breathe.

She'd nearly told Robert of her suspicions, but fear had held her back. What if she was wrong, and she was not with child?

He'd promised to find a place for them, and at one time, she'd been eager to live with him—even if it meant travelling from place to place. But unless he found men willing to fight for the king, they would have nowhere to live, nowhere to raise a child. The safest place for her to remain until she gave birth was with her mother...at least until Robert could find a home for them.

Emotions caught her heart, and she worried about whether he would even want a child with her. What if he decided to hire out his sword? What if he left her?

She stepped outside the tent and took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. Allowing the anxiety to take command would accomplish nothing.

Nearby, she heard the ringing of swords, and suddenly, men began rushing past the tents. Dozens of soldiers joined them, along with noblemen.

‘What's happening?' she tried to ask. But the men charged forward, pushing back against the crowds gathering.

A dark premonition caught within her, for they were moving towards the king's tent...where she had left Robert.

Morwenna felt her throat closing up with fear. She pushed back her terror, for that would do no good. Instead, she pushed through the crowds, searching for a glimpse of him. There were so many men, it was impossible to find anyone.

But then she spied a familiar gleam of blonde hair. Lady Gwendoline was walking beside her father, whose expression was grim. The lady's misery was evident, and though Morwenna wanted to speak with her, she wasn't certain how to help.

But if Gwendoline was alone, then Piers was in danger or already dead.

She quickened her pace until she was behind her friend. Several noblemen were rushing forward, and Morwenna seized her chance. She bumped against the men, and they pushed into Lord Penrith, causing him to stumble to the ground. The earl cursed while he was on his hands and knees, giving her precious seconds to talk to Gwendoline.

While he was on the ground, Morwenna seized her friend's hand. ‘Where is Piers?'

‘He's a captive.' Gwen's eyes filled with tears. ‘Please, ask Robert to help him.'

Morwenna felt terrible, but there was nothing she could do. ‘The king is in danger. I think Robert is trying to defend him.' Then she took her friend's hand and led her into the crowd of soldiers and men. ‘Robert can't save Piers now...but you could. If you know where he is.' They hurried away from Lord Penrith together, and Morwenna handed Gwen her knife. ‘Take this. And if you can save him, send him to fight for the king.'

With that, Gwendoline disappeared among the tents. Morwenna got caught up in the crowd, and though she tried to push her way through, she nearly lost her balance. She had to remain on the edge of the crowd in order to get closer, and when at last she neared the king's tent, there was no way to reach it.

Robert was fighting hard, and she could barely see him. Only the ring of swords told her that he was still alive. She saw a barrel nearby and tried to climb atop it to see better. Shielding her eyes against the sun, she saw that the dozen men he'd hired were fighting alongside him. The king's men had also formed lines on either side of the tent, but Robert never wavered, never stopped.

He moved like water, shifting from opponent to opponent. Fear caught in her throat, but she couldn't tear her gaze away. In him, she saw the man she loved, fighting for them. He didn't have the men the king wanted, but he was proving his loyalty right now. The crowd surrounded them, but he never once faltered.

Then at last, King John emerged from the tent and stepped forward. ‘Enough of this!'

Beside him, more soldiers emerged, along with archers who aimed their bows in both directions. Robert struck his last blow and then lowered his sword in obedience.

For a moment, it seemed as if time stood still. All eyes rested upon the king as he prepared to speak out against the uprising.

But then, Morwenna caught a slight motion, the flash of a blade, just as someone threw a dagger. There was no way of knowing who had aimed the weapon, but Robert threw himself in front of the king.

Only sheer instinct caused him to raise his shield up. The dagger had been thrown so hard it was embedded in the wood. A moment later, a man fell to the ground, shot by an archer.

‘Is there another man who wishes to die?' the king demanded. Fury caused his face to redden with colour. ‘Return to your tents. And unless you are part of our royal entourage, we want you gone.'

Robert sheathed his sword and started to walk away.

‘Not you,' the king said. ‘Robert of Penrith, we wish to speak to you.'

He bowed and followed the king back inside the royal tent. Though he'd hoped to see Morwenna, there were far too many people. ‘My liege,' he said, dropping to one knee.

‘Rise,' the king commanded. ‘You fought well this day to guard us. And we understand your men joined mine and stopped the rebellion.' There was a faint crease at the man's forehead, as if he knew the battle was not yet won. ‘Were it not for your shield, I would no longer be king.'

Robert could only say, ‘My sword is yours, Your Majesty.'

John seemed pleased by that. His gaze rested upon him, and Robert never looked away, hoping that he had done enough to earn the king's favour.

‘You want Penrith, don't you?' The king's eyes were discerning, studying him as if to uncover the truth.

These were the words he'd hoped for. It was what he'd dreamed of for the past two years. Although he wanted to say yes, Robert hesitated. He had trained to win back his land, and now that the opportunity was in his hands, it seemed almost unreal.

‘Yes, I do want the land,' he admitted. ‘I want my people to live without fear. I want to atone for my father's mistakes and become the earl they need.'

The king studied him for a long moment. ‘You deserve to be rewarded for saving your king. But Alfred of Penrith has also shown me loyalty. We cannot repay that by stripping him of his lands.' He paused a moment. ‘But if you were to marry his daughter...'

‘She is already married,' Robert answered, ‘to my half-brother Piers. They wed in secret.'

‘She will be a widow, soon enough,' the king said. ‘Alfred has demanded the execution of your bastard brother for kidnapping his daughter and forcing her into marriage. We have him chained right now.'

A coldness threaded through Robert at the thought. No matter how much he wanted Penrith, it was not worth the cost of his brother's life.

Were it not for Piers, he would not be alive today. And the idea of setting Morwenna aside to marry Gwendoline? No, that could never happen. His fierce, beautiful Morwenna belonged to him and always would. He could never wed another.

And as for Penrith, his half-brother was deeply tangled up in that land. Piers had been downtrodden all his life, a man to whom nothing had been given. He had always coveted Robert's inheritance. But more than that, he understood the people of Penrith in a way Robert never could. Piers had been raised among them, labouring alongside the people during his childhood and adolescence.

Now that he had dared to marry Lady Gwendoline, his own life was at stake. He would die unless Robert intervened.

‘I am honoured by your offer, Your Highness. But I don't want my brother to die. He saved my life. And were it not for him, I could not have guarded you, my king.'

The king's expression held wariness, and Robert choose his words carefully, so as not to offend him. ‘I have had a change of heart. If you were to grant me Penrith, it might cause greater complications for you. I would also prefer to wed Morwenna, instead of Lady Gwendoline.' Before the king could argue with him, Robert continued, ‘If you have another plot of land where you have need of a loyal subject—even if it is small, I would be grateful.'

The king seemed to consider his request. Then he gave a nod. ‘The nobleman who dared to throw the dagger at me is now dead. And he has no son.' He pondered the matter and said, ‘We will grant you his lands, if you are willing to live a great distance from here.'

Robert wanted to ask the king more, but he forced himself to remain silent. The king answered his unspoken question. ‘The lands are in Ireland. You will return to Dunbough and claim it. And once you are settled, we still expect you to send as many soldiers as you can for our cause.' He motioned to one of his men and commanded, ‘See to it that Robert becomes Earl of Dunbough, and I will set my seal upon the orders later.'

Robert bowed deeply. ‘I am most grateful, Your Excellency.'

There was movement at the edge of the tent, and two soldiers entered with Morwenna. Robert held out his arm, and she went to him, embracing him hard. He breathed in her scent, so grateful she was safe.

‘You're alive,' she whispered. ‘I was so afraid of losing you.'

‘Is it still your wish to marry this man?' the king demanded. ‘I could arrange another match with another nobleman.'

Robert held her waist, hoping she would agree. They had endured so much...captivity, poverty, and fighting...to be together. There was no other woman he could imagine sharing his life with, but Morwenna had not said yes.

She drew back from him and dropped into a deep curtsy. ‘Your Majesty, there is no man I wish to wed more than Robert.'

Her words filled him with a blend of relief and joy. Though he wanted to crush her into his arms, he held restraint before the king.

The king motioned for her to rise. ‘I grant my blessing upon your marriage, then. After you are wed, you will depart with him to his lands.'

She offered the king a soft smile. ‘Thank you.'

Only then, did Robert give in to the urge, and he pulled Morwenna into a hard embrace, stealing a kiss. Behind him, he heard the king's amusement, but he simply didn't care. She had agreed to marry him, and it was all that mattered.

Robert took her hand in his, but before they could leave, he heard the sound of someone arguing.

‘I will see the king!'

Robert unsheathed his sword, prepared to defend King John, if needed, but it was Lord Penrith who entered the tent. His face was nearly purple with rage.

‘My prisoner is gone and my daughter with him,' Penrith spat. ‘I suspect this man set him free.'

Robert kept his sword at the ready, uncertain of what the earl intended. He didn't trust Penrith at all.

‘Lord Robert has been with us this entire time,' the king remarked. ‘He defended us when you could not be bothered.' His cool tone held a warning. ‘Take your troubles elsewhere. If you could not keep your own prisoner, this is not our responsibility.'

‘I demand justice,' Penrith insisted.

‘You do not make demands of us,' the king said in an iron tone. He nodded to his soldiers to take the earl. ‘Escort him out and see to it that he returns to Penrith. We have no further need of him.'

The earl looked as if he wanted to argue, but as the soldiers closed in on him the king added, ‘If you make another threat, it will be your last.'

Alfred paled and turned away. Only after he was gone did Robert sheathe his sword once again.

The king's face revealed his approval. ‘You were prepared to defend us again, were you not?'

‘Indeed, Your Highness.'

‘Take the Lady Morwenna and marry her,' the king commanded. ‘Then journey to Trim Castle in Ireland. I will send my command to Lord William de Lacy. He will have orders to send men to help you take Dunbough.'

‘Thank you, Your Highness.' Robert paused a moment. ‘There is something else I would ask, if I may.'

The king waited, and Robert added, ‘Do not send men in pursuit of Piers, my liege. My brother is no threat to you, and he did nothing wrong except to marry Lady Gwendoline without permission. If you allow him the chance, he will prove his loyalty.'

King John appeared uncertain about it, but he shrugged. ‘Whatever fight your brother has with Lord Penrith is his own to face.'

‘Thank you, Your Excellency.' Robert bowed again, and Morwenna dropped into a curtsy once more. The king waved his hand in dismissal, and they left the tent.

As soon as they were outside, Robert picked her up by the waist and swung her around slowly.

‘What are you doing?' she laughed.

‘You said yes.' Slowly, he let her slide down, and her eyes held happiness as he stole another kiss. ‘You agreed to wed me.'

‘I did.' She framed his face with her hands. ‘And I cannot wait to be your wife.'

It was growing dark, and Robert led her away from the inner tents to one that lay on the outskirts. He opened it and spoke to two of the soldiers, offering them silver coins. ‘Find another place to sleep tonight.'

They departed, and Morwenna turned to him. ‘I was so worried about you, Robert.'

He pulled her close and kissed her with all the desperation he felt. His heart pounded as Morwenna's tongue threaded with his, and a surge of lust gathered within him. He needed to lie with her this night, to show her how much he loved her.

‘Would that I could marry you this very moment,' he said. ‘Do you still plan to make me wait?'

She laughed, kissing him again. ‘Robert, there is only one thing I want to be, more than your wife.'

He nipped at her mouth. ‘What is it you want?'

‘To be naked with your skin on mine.' She pulled at the laces of her gown, her gaze fixed upon his. ‘I almost lost you again today, and I don't want to wait.'

She let the gown fall to the ground until she was wearing only her shift. And when she pulled it off and stood naked before him, he lost sight of any words he'd wanted to say.

‘I am going to claim this night for myself,' she murmured.

She was beautiful in the last light of evening, her skin golden. Her breasts jutted out from her body, the nipples puckered in the cool night air. Her body was lean and muscled, and she took his breath away.

She rested her hands on his chest and stared at him. ‘Unless you want me to stop?'

Never in a thousand years. In answer, he stripped away his own tunic, pulling her until they were skin to skin. ‘I'm going to give you everything you want, Morwenna. Now, and always.'

Desire roared through him, and Robert surrendered to it. He claimed her mouth, devouring her while his hands slid down her curves. She gasped when he touched a sensitive place, and he forced himself to slow down, gentling his kiss.

He took her hand and led her to a pile of sleeping furs. Then he stripped off his remaining clothes and drew her to lie down. ‘I'm in love with you, Morwenna. And God willing, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.'

He couldn't imagine being apart from her any more. He didn't know what Ireland would be like or what challenges they would face. But it didn't matter, so long as they were together.

‘I love you, too,' she said, as her tears broke free. But they were tears of joy, not sorrow. And right now, he wanted her with a desperation beyond reason. He needed to bring her pleasure and watch her fall apart. The memory of the first night he'd claimed her innocence haunted him still.

Morwenna brought his hands to her breasts. Her skin was cool, and when he palmed her nipples, she gripped his shoulders, her eyes closing. ‘That feels good.'

Her voice held a breathy sigh, and he experimented with caressing her. With every touch he found his own need growing stronger, harder to control. She moaned when he gently rolled the tips between his fingers. He bent to kiss one breast, and she let out a shuddering gasp. With his tongue, he continued exploring her sweet flesh while he stroked the other breast.

She was so sensitive, she cried out. Morwenna clenched his hair and adjusted her position so she was seated with her legs open. All he had to do was lift her hips and he could be inside her. But he wanted to draw out her pleasure.

‘Show me,' he commanded, taking her hand. ‘Tell me where you want to be touched.'

Her face was flushed, and she bit her lip as she guided his hand lower, between her legs. He slid his hand over the soft hair to the wetness there. He remembered how she had touched herself in the past, and his body went rigid as his fingers dipped into the warm folds.

She reached for him then, her palm gripping his erection. She squeezed him gently, and the intense pleasure roared through him. He showed her how to move her hand, and as she did, he slid two fingers inside her. He entered and withdrew, and she echoed the movement with her own hand. The ecstasy built up inside him until he realised he was losing control like an eager adolescent.

He took her hand from his manhood. ‘Morwenna, wait. Lie down.'

She could hardly catch her breath. But she obeyed his command and lay back on the furs, raising her knees up. Her body had come alive, flooded with needs she hadn't known she possessed.

In her heart, she had already spoken silent vows before the priest on the night Piers had married Gwendoline. And now, she intended to seize this moment for herself.

Robert's hungry gaze swept over her like an invisible caress. Once again, he kissed her breasts, and the heat of his mouth brought a fierce ache between her legs. She didn't understand what he wanted at first, and then he brought her hand atop his. ‘I want you to show me what to do. Show me what brings you pleasure.'

She felt a wave of embarrassment, but then she realised he had relaxed his fingers. He wanted her to pleasure herself, using his touch. It was a shocking sensation, but she brought his fingertips against her hooded flesh. Gently, she showed him the pressure that brought her the most intense yearning. She was shocked at the sensual heat that rose hotter as she taught him what she liked. He caught on quickly, and soon enough, she could barely catch her breath. He circled her in a rhythmic movement.

Then he shocked her when he continued the caress while sliding a finger inside her. She was clenching her hands, writhing against him, when suddenly her body erupted in a storm of release. She gripped his finger, her body alive as the pleasure flooded her.

Morwenna pressed Robert to his back and straddled him, wanting him inside her. She brought his rigid length to her swollen opening. She was so wet, and she wanted him to feel the same release.

She raised up, positioning him at her entrance. Slowly, she lowered herself upon him with her knees on either side of his waist. He was so thick and hard, it stretched her to take him. But he reached up to caress her breasts, and somehow, she took him deeper.

He was gentle, allowing her to go slowly, but it felt so good, she needed more. She moved against him, and Robert let out a low hiss.

‘I'm sorry,' she apologised. ‘Did I hurt you?'

‘No. Do it again.' He closed his eyes, still stroking her nipples while she continued to move. He took her hips and guided her in a rhythm. Her shallow penetrations echoed deeply in her womb, and the rising pleasure started to rebuild inside her.

She loved this man, loved that they could share this moment. He was breathing hard, his hands cupping her bottom. She didn't know what to do, but a moment later, he thrust against her, and she squeezed his length.

‘God above, I won't last if you keep doing that.'

‘Do you like it?' she whispered, trying again.

‘I love it, just as I love you.'

The words filled her with such happiness, Morwenna could hardly bear it. ‘I love you, too.'

Robert lifted her hips slightly and lowered her to take him. She felt the ache rising harder, and as she met his thrusts, her own desire rekindled. But she wanted him to take control now. This time, she withdrew from him and moved to her back, raising her knees. He understood what she wanted, and he palmed her bottom, thrusting deep. The new position gave him the chance to take what he wanted, and she surrendered to him, trembling as he took her higher.

She couldn't stop herself from meeting his penetrations, and when he took her nipple in his mouth again, he ground against her. She utterly shattered in his arms, crying out as he quickened his tempo. Over and over, he thrust, until he uttered a guttural cry and spilled himself inside her.

She locked her legs around his waist, her body still quaking with aftershocks. He relaxed atop her, and she was so grateful to have the man she loved.

‘Do you want to be married at Banmouth?' he asked, kissing her lips.

She thought a moment and then shook her head. ‘I think we should invite your uncle Oswald to hear our vows. And though I would wed you anywhere, we could marry at Stansbury where we lived and trained. It's where I fell in love with you the first time.'

He rested his nose against hers. ‘I'll make the arrangements.'

A sudden shyness overcame her, and she added, ‘We should marry soon, Robert. I don't want to wait long.' She drew his hand to her stomach and met his gaze. ‘I've already missed my courses once.'

A look of joy came over his face. ‘A child?'

‘It's too soon to tell, but I believe so.'

He kept his hand upon her stomach and stroked it, as if to offer love to their baby. She kissed him again, so thankful for the gift of this man.

And the years yet to come.

Robert stood among the ruins at Stansbury, waiting beside his uncle. The morning air was cool, but the sun shone brightly above them. Although he was eager to wed Morwenna, his anticipation heightened with every moment. He had made the preparations for their journey to Ireland, and he was eager to reach their new home. A few of the Banmouth soldiers had decided to accompany them to Dunbough, and they stood at intervals within the courtyard.

His half-brother Piers came to stand beside him. ‘I am glad for you and Morwenna,' he said. ‘I hope you will find happiness together.'

Robert clapped his brother on the back. ‘And I am glad you came to join in our celebration.' His gaze turned serious. ‘Will you and Gwendoline be all right?' Although he'd won the king's consent not to send men to pursue them, Robert sensed that the danger was still there.

Piers nodded. ‘Our fight isn't over yet. But her father will never change.'

‘If you ever have need of sanctuary, you are always welcome in Ireland.' And he meant the words.

‘Not until we've brought peace to the people of Penrith,' Piers answered. ‘I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it.' His brother turned serious. ‘I owe you a debt I can never repay.'

‘If you restore their freedom, that will be payment enough,' Robert answered.

Their conversation ended when Morwenna appeared at the entrance to a stone archway. Gwendoline and Rochelle stood on each side of her. His bride wore the crimson gown Lady Gwendoline had given her, and the sight of her stole his breath. She walked towards him slowly, her hair flowing free down her back. She'd let it grow, and it fell in soft curls below her shoulders. She wore a crown of pink wildflowers, and her smile held the same love that he felt for her.

Robert took her hands in his, and as his uncle began the marriage rite, all he could think of was how fortunate he was. He would start anew with Morwenna in Ireland, and they would build a life together.

Even now, their child might be growing inside her. He had never imagined having a wife or a family of his own, and as he gave his vows, he made a promise to always protect her.

Afterwards, he leaned in for a kiss of peace. Morwenna's face was radiant with happiness, and he felt the same as his uncle began the familiar Latin words of the Mass. Amid the ruined fortress, Robert remembered the days he and Piers had trained here while Morwenna had watched. Sometimes, she and Brian had joined them. He could almost hear the ring of their swords in his memory and the laughter at the end of the day.

He leaned in close and whispered, ‘I wish your brother could have been here. I tried to find him.'

Her eyes grew sad. ‘I know. I pray that one day he'll return.'

‘He will. I have faith in that.'

After the Mass ended, he took her hand in his and their guests cheered. Even Morwenna's mother dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. Although she was still getting acquainted with her daughter, Rochelle had wanted to be here. She had also brought the kitten back with her in a small basket, and Morwenna had been delighted at its return.

‘I will come to visit you in Ireland,' her mother promised as she embraced her. ‘In the spring.' Her smile grew knowing, and Robert suspected Morwenna had told her about the baby.

Gwendoline came next, and she hugged them both. ‘I wish you both all the happiness in the world.' To Morwenna she added, ‘And I am glad that Piers and Robert are half-brothers. For now, we can truly be sisters.'

‘If you ever need our help with Penrith, you have it,' Morwenna promised.

Piers put his arm around his wife's waist. ‘Thank you.'

The monks joined them in a simple feast of bread, cheese, mutton, and fish. They also shared a platter of fresh blackberries.

After hours of storytelling, singing, and even dancing while one of the monks played a lute, nightfall drifted across the landscape. Soon after they lit several fires to warm the courtyard, they said their farewells. Gwendoline gave her a small gift and Morwenna thanked her for it.

Robert led her away from the ruins to a small overlook. She set down the bundle and went to stand beside him. All around them, hundreds of stars gleamed in the sky. ‘It's beautiful,' Morwenna said, lifting her face upward.

‘Very beautiful,' he agreed, but his gaze was fixed upon her.

He kissed her again, and she wrapped her arms around him. Then after a moment, she pulled back. ‘I have a wedding gift for you, Robert.'

‘You already gave me a wedding gift,' he answered, sliding his hand down to her womb. ‘Though it will have to wait for some time.'

‘Not that. Though I pray it is true.' She smiled and took his hands in hers. ‘No, there's something else. I asked Gwendoline to look in the castle for some of your belongings.' Morwenna retrieved the small bundle and gave it to him. ‘She found these and gave them to me just now.'

He unwrapped it and found a wooden fish that his father had carved for him. There was also a small prayer book that must have belonged to his mother. But the last gift was the woven linen cloth they were wrapped in. It was embroidered with a delicate thread, and Morwenna marvelled at its softness.

‘I believe my grandmother might have woven this,' he remarked. ‘We'll keep it for the baby.'

‘I wanted you to have some things from your past,' she murmured, ‘Since we're starting over, and you have to leave it behind.'

‘It doesn't matter any more,' he said. ‘No matter what lies ahead, we have each other.' He set the gifts aside and took her in his arms once more. ‘Once, all I could think of was reclaiming Penrith. It was the only thing that meant anything to me.' He framed her face with his hands. ‘But I was blind and could not see that everything I needed was right here.'

‘I love you, Robert.' She leaned in to kiss him again. ‘And whatever happens in Ireland, we will make a home for our family.'

And for him, it was enough.