Chapter Three

M orwenna awakened to the sound of Lady Gwendoline speaking in hushed tones to her maid. She rose from the bed she'd shared last night and stretched. It seemed strange to enjoy a feather mattress after she'd grown accustomed to sleeping on the floor.

‘I am sorry if I woke you,' Gwendoline apologised. ‘We tried to be quiet.'

‘I did not mean to lie abed for so long.' Morwenna reached for her mother's gown, but before she could put it on, the maid took it from her.

‘I will help you dress, my lady.'

She thanked her, and the maid helped her lace up the back of the gown. Gwendoline turned a critical eye. ‘Is that the only gown you have to wear?'

Morwenna nodded, feeling the invisible criticism. ‘I know it's not what the other ladies are wearing, but my belongings were stolen.'

‘Hmm.' Gwendoline studied her closely. ‘I think I have something that might fit you. The hem will need to be let down, but Aelish could do it for you.'

‘I couldn't possibly ask that of you,' Morwenna argued.

‘Don't be foolish. I have dozens of gowns. Whenever my father travels on the king's business, he brings back something new for me.' Gwendoline smiled brightly as if it meant nothing at all.

Inwardly, Morwenna wondered if her father had been looting castles and bringing back the spoils of battle. But she said nothing about it.

‘Aelish, go and fetch the crimson bliaud. I think that would suit Morwenna's dark hair very well.' After the maid departed, Gwendoline lowered her voice. ‘I know you said you were set upon by thieves on your journey home. But there's more to this, isn't there?'

The woman's voice was calm, offering a listening ear. It was almost tempting to lay the truth before her, but there was no reason to take such a risk.

Yet, at the same time, Morwenna saw an opportunity. Perhaps a version of the truth might help.

She hesitated and nodded at last. ‘Some of what I told you was true. I was attacked.' She shuddered at the memory of the king's soldier who had torn her gown two years ago. ‘But my father is dead. He was killed in a raid and... I don't know where I can go now. Our lands were taken from us.' She reached for Gwendoline's hands. ‘Please don't tell anyone. I just need some time to decide where I can go that would be safe.'

‘What about your mother's kin?' the lady suggested.

‘I thought of that, but I don't know where to begin.' Morwenna released her hands and admitted, ‘My mother died a few years ago. She never spoke of her family and she...married below her rank. I suspect her family cast her off.' Morwenna held out the necklace. ‘This was hers.'

‘Then we have a mystery to solve,' Gwendoline said, her eyes gleaming with interest. ‘And until we find your mother's family, you will stay with me as one of my ladies.'

‘Won't your father command me to leave?' She couldn't imagine that the Earl of Penrith would want to take in a stranger.

‘I will tell him that we must also send word to your mother's family. It will be safer for you to remain here until your escort arrives.'

‘I don't want you to lie on my behalf,' Morwenna said. ‘I really don't know where to find them.'

‘But we will find out,' Gwendoline promised. ‘I would be glad to help you.'

‘I am grateful.' Although she wasn't certain it was wise, Morwenna asked, ‘And what of you, Lady Gwendoline? I overheard that your father is hosting a feast at Midsummer to help you find a husband.' With a light smile, she enquired, ‘Is there anyone who has caught your attention?'

The lady's expression grew wistful as if she wanted to say something but then changed her mind. ‘Not yet, though my father keeps suggesting different alliances. I told him that I will gladly wed, but only a man of honour. So many of them tell lies that they think I will not see through.'

The maid returned with the crimson gown, and Morwenna marvelled at its beauty. She had never worn anything so fine in all her life. Although she had done well at mimicking the behaviour of the nobles, this gown surely cost more than her father had earned in a year. It only reminded her of how she did not fit in among these people.

‘I like this colour on you,' Gwen said while Aelish helped her to change. ‘And while we are talking of husbands, what of you? Did your father have the chance to arrange your own betrothal before he died?'

Morwenna shook her head, though she felt a warmth in her cheeks. ‘No, he did not.'

‘But there was someone, wasn't there?' Gwendoline predicted. ‘I can see it in your eyes. Do tell me about him.' Her eyes sparkled. ‘Is he handsome?'

Morwenna sighed. ‘I have never seen a more handsome man. But he does not know of my feelings.'

‘You should tell him,' Gwen suggested. ‘Let him know what is in your heart.'

‘I cannot,' she protested. ‘He doesn't seem to notice me. And if he did know of my feelings, and I wasn't enough, it would...hurt too much.' It startled her that it was so easy to talk to Gwendoline.

The lady smiled. ‘Then we will have to change that, won't we? I think you should join me at the competitions, and we will invite the man who has captured your heart.'

‘He is already intending to come,' she admitted. ‘And that is part of the reason why he does not hold affection towards me. He plans to court you instead.'

Gwendoline turned serious. ‘If you tell me who he is, I will not choose him. I promise you.'

Morwenna didn't know what to say, for Robert's only reason for coming to Penrith was to wed the lady.

Gwendoline saved her from answering by continuing, ‘Then we will make you so gloriously beautiful, he will fall on his knees to have you.' The lady put her arm around her and led her to sit upon a chair. ‘Aelish will fix your hair. Were you ill last year? It looks as if someone cut it.'

‘I had a fever,' Morwenna lied. ‘It has taken time to grow back.'

‘Well, she can pin it up for you, and with the right veil and jewels, no one will know.' She reached back and pulled Morwenna's hair up. For a moment she grew quiet and then said, ‘Do you know how long it's been since I've had a friend to talk to? I've missed it so much.' She let Morwenna's hair fall and said, ‘Ever since we came here, it's felt like an exile.'

There was an opportunity here to ask questions. Morwenna ventured, ‘It does seem a little strange at Penrith. The people don't talk as much as I'm used to.'

The expression on Gwen's face grew grim. ‘A month after we arrived, there was a man who was causing trouble. Justin was his name. He kept defying orders, and one night, he tried to murder my father. He nearly succeeded in stabbing him in his sleep.'

‘I'm so sorry,' Morwenna said. This wasn't at all what she'd heard from Robert, and it made her wonder what the truth was.

‘My father hid his wounds from the people. He didn't want to look weak in front of them, but he had no choice but to have Justin executed for his crimes. Ever since then, it's been different.'

‘I think the people are afraid,' Morwenna suggested.

Gwen nodded. ‘But what choice did Father have? He couldn't allow someone to stab him and let that go unpunished.'

Morwenna nodded in agreement, but it still seemed as if the earl had told his daughter a different version of the truth. She decided not to say anything.

‘But let's not talk of that any more,' Gwen said. ‘I want you to tell me about the man you are hoping to wed. And then, on the morrow when we go hunting, I will speak to my father about it.'

It was just the sort of opening Robert would want. Not only the chance to court Lady Gwendoline as a suitor, but during the hunt, he might have the chance to meet her privately.

‘I will ask Father to let you choose from among the remaining men,' Gwendoline continued. ‘I must choose first, of course, but you may have second choice if you wish. And I promise I will not choose your man, if he comes to compete.'

‘Do you think your father will agree to this?'

Gwen linked her arm with Morwenna's. ‘Of course, he will. Now tell me of your perfect husband.'

Robert wandered through the cellar, running his hands along the cool stones that lined the walls. Wilfred had sent him to find a cask of wine, but as he walked through the familiar area, he stopped in front of a small passageway that led uphill.

A forgotten memory crept into his mind of the years he'd fought off death. The illness had held him captive within these walls, and he'd never really known what it was or why he'd been so sick. Or even more, why he'd started healing for no apparent reason.

One memory, in particular, stood out in his mind. He'd been violently ill for most of the day, only to see a tapestry rippling on the opposite wall. Moments later, he saw a young boy watching him.

The boy's face held concern. ‘You're very sick, aren't you? I thought they were lying to me.'

‘Who are you?' he managed to ask, his voice hoarse. When he tried to sit up, dizziness washed over him, and he sank back on the bed.

‘Piers,' the boy answered .

From his ragged clothing and tangled hair, Robert guessed he was one of the stable boys or the son of a serf. But the boy walked past the tapestry, staring at Robert's bedchamber.

Then he came closer and touched the bed coverlet. ‘This is yours?'

He nodded. Another wave of illness washed over him, and he tried to hold back the nausea. ‘Please go.' He didn't want the boy to be there while he heaved out his guts.

But the boy never moved. ‘You don't understand.'

‘What?' he gritted out, clenching the sheets.

‘I'm your brother,' the boy said. ‘I found out from the cook. I thought we could—'

‘Get out!' Robert ordered. He reached beneath the bed for the pot, and barely made it before he vomited. The humiliation and wrenching pain made his eyes water.

The boy retreated, staring at him. ‘But...'

‘Just leave me.' His voice broke in a whisper, for he believed he would die in a few days. The pain never ended, and he was weary from lack of food or sleep. ‘I don't want to be your brother,' he whispered. ‘Or your friend.'

The words were cruel, but better that than to become attached to anyone. The only person he ever saw was his father's wife Clarine. His own mother had been dead for years.

Piers's expression turned stony. And then he disappeared behind the tapestry, closing the hidden door behind him.

The memory of that day had crept in without warning. But it had been the start of his brother's hatred. By the time Robert regained his strength, Piers treated him like a despised enemy. His half-brother constantly played tricks on him, stealing his medicine or food. Clarine found out and sent the boy away to live in the stables.

Piers's mother had died a year later and after that, Robert rarely saw his half-brother. His father had ignored his bastard son completely, which wasn't right. But despite Robert's desire to end the animosity with his brother, there was no opportunity. Piers had begun working alongside the other serfs, accepting the life he'd been given. It was only after they'd spent two years together, after their escape, that they had begun to mend the rift between them. And mostly it was because he'd given Piers someone to fight. Many were the nights when both of them were bruised and bleeding after a long day of sparring.

It was strange to realise that he missed his brother.

Robert rested his hand upon a wooden barrel, wondering what had become of Piers. It had felt wrong to leave him behind, but his stubborn half-brother had refused to join them. He could only hope that Piers would somehow earn his fortune and find the happiness he wanted.

Robert found the cask of wine and brought it back to the kitchen. Wilfred had already gone to bed, so he returned to the small pantry space. He lit an oil lamp and then heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

The door opened, and he saw that once again, Morwenna had dressed as a boy to escape notice. She closed the door behind her and said, ‘Lord Penrith is taking us hunting tomorrow. I think that may be your chance to meet with Lady Gwendoline.'

‘It's a good idea,' he agreed. ‘Thank you for telling me.'

She sat upon one of the sacks of grain and pulled off her cap. Dark hair spilled out, and he detected a faint floral aroma. He inhaled deeply but couldn't quite place the scent. It was a scent that reminded him of something from long ago. But what was it? He came closer and drew a lock of her hair to his nose.

‘Robert, what are you doing?' Morwenna looked aghast. ‘Are you smelling my hair?'

He was but saw no harm in it. ‘Is it rose petals?'

‘Lilac,' she corrected.

That was it. It reminded him of the herbs his mother had used in her bath. At night when he'd been a young child, she had embraced him before he'd gone to sleep, and he remembered that scent.

Morwenna snatched her hair from his grasp, and he felt the urge to tease her. ‘You put dried lilac in your bath, didn't you?' He could smell the fragrance on her skin as well. The scent was faint but alluring.

Her face turned fiery red, and she crossed her arms. ‘What business is it of yours if I did? Can't I bathe if I want to?'

For a moment, he imagined her naked in a wooden tub, surrounded by the dried flowers. The steam would rise to her face, dampening tendrils of her hair. And the sudden image of bare female skin and droplets of water spilling over the curve of her breasts brought an unexpected jolt of response. He'd never thought of her in that way before, and he forced the vision back, wondering why his brain had conjured such an image.

‘I'm glad you did,' he answered, keeping his tone even. But when he saw the furious look on her face, he realised that somehow, he'd offended her. He'd meant to tell her that she smelled nice, but he had a feeling that if he did, it would only provoke her more.

‘You could do with a bath yourself,' she pointed out.

At that, he gave a laugh. ‘I'll admit, that's something I do miss. Hot water for bathing.' More often than not, he washed in an icy stream.

‘You have a hearth fire and a pot of water. Use it.' She appeared so indignant he couldn't stop his smile.

‘Perhaps I will. I suppose I'll need to prepare for the contests. I asked Wilfred to help me find some of my father's old clothes.'

‘You'll need them,' she agreed. To divert the subject, she said, ‘Especially if you intend to court Lady Gwendoline.'

‘What sort of man does she want?'

Morwenna's face turned pensive, almost as if she was reluctant to speak. ‘She likes honesty. When men lie to her or tell her what they think she wants to hear, she finds it false.'

He was intrigued to hear it. A woman who valued honesty was intelligent, too. ‘What should I say to her when I meet her for the first time?'

Morwenna rolled her eyes at him. ‘You could bid her a good morning.'

‘But what name should I give her? I cannot give my own.'

She thought a moment. ‘I would tell her the truth, Robert. If you lie to her and she finds out who you really are, you'll lose her.'

He disagreed with that. ‘If I tell her that I'm the true Earl of Penrith, her father will have me hanged within hours.' No, that could never happen. ‘I suppose I could tell her a piece of the truth. That I was driven from my lands. I could give her my middle name, Anthony.'

She appeared uncertain about that, and he was starting to agree. There were too many folk who knew him by the name Robert. If anyone asked, he could make up a different name to describe where he was from.

‘If you give her a false name, when she finds out who you really are, why should she ever trust you again?'

‘I hope by then, she will have feelings for me.' He believed that if he said the right words and if his actions were kind, she might understand his reasons. Surely courting a woman could not be all that different from learning a new skill. If he paid attention to her and became the man she wanted him to be, it ought to be enough.

‘Starting with lies is not the way to win her affections,' Morwenna cautioned. ‘If anything, it will drive her away.'

He understood what she meant, but in this situation, he saw no alternative. ‘I will try to tell her what truths I can.' It was the best he could offer. She let out a sigh, and he added, ‘I know you're only trying to help, Morwenna.'

She met his gaze squarely in the dim lamp light. ‘I am, though you'll need more help than I can give.'

‘I am grateful to you.' Robert reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘When this is all over, I will be in your debt. And whatever you want, if it's in my power to grant it, I will do so.'

Her eyes seemed to hold a pain he didn't understand, but she gave a nod. ‘In the morning, find a horse and go to the forest. Follow our trail and I'll try to separate Lady Gwendoline from the others. Do you know where the stream passes by that large oak tree?'

‘I do, aye.'

‘Then I will bring her there. Be waiting, and for the love of the saints, do not try to smell her hair.'

Robert only smiled.

It was just past dawn when they joined the hunt. Morwenna rode alongside Lady Gwendoline while three soldiers accompanied them. Lord Penrith had been kind enough to let her join in the hunt, but his gaze continually searched the horizon as they searched for deer. Sometimes she wondered whether he was looking for something else...or someone. He had a quiver of arrows on his back while they rode deeper into the forest. Gwendoline also had her own bow, which surprised her. She hadn't known the lady could shoot.

When they neared the stream, the earl raised his hand in a signal to stop. Then the hunting party dismounted to walk. For a time, they remained by the stream, waiting. Morwenna knew Robert would be on the far end of the stream by the oak tree. Now all she had to do was arrange for them to meet—and that meant separating from the others.

She caught the attention of Lord Penrith and motioned to herself and Lady Gwendoline. Then she nodded towards the other end of the stream, asking permission silently. She added a squirm to make it seem as if she needed to relieve herself. Thankfully, the earl inclined his head, and Morwenna took Gwendoline by the hand, leading her along the stream.

‘Where are we going?' she whispered.

‘Somewhere we can talk,' Morwenna answered. ‘Don't you find the waiting dull?'

At that, Gwendoline beamed. ‘I knew I liked you.'

They continued through the forest, following the stream. When they were within a short distance of the oak, Morwenna excused herself. ‘I need a moment. You can keep walking, and I'll catch up. Meet me by that large tree ahead.'

‘I can wait for you,' Gwendoline offered.

‘No, I'd rather have...privacy,' Morwenna countered. ‘I'll be there soon.'

The lady seemed to accept her excuse, and after a moment, Morwenna disappeared into the underbrush. She knew this part of the forest well, for it was only a short walk to their camp. Part of her felt guilty, but she watched as Gwendoline continued along the edge of the stream. Perfect. Morwenna could claim that she'd walked in the wrong direction and had got lost. If all went to plan, Robert would have his chance to meet the heiress.

The burning flare of jealousy caught up in her stomach, making her feel like a fool. Gwendoline was her friend now, and she didn't want to imagine the young woman falling in love with Robert. But she hadn't wanted to refuse his request, despite how much it bothered her.

Morwenna crouched low as she continued her way deeper into the woods. She saw a set of footprints beside the stream, and most likely they belonged to Robert. Although the fire had burned out in the camp hearth long ago, she struck flint and coaxed it back to life with some kindling.

Then she closed her eyes, resting her face in her hands. For a moment, she indulged in self-pity. She'd all but led Robert into Gwendoline's arms. Why? She never should have agreed to it. Already he found the lady beautiful, and it wouldn't take long for him to gain her attention.

Enough , she told herself. There was no sense in feeling sorry for herself. She'd done as Robert had asked, telling him what the lady wanted. With any luck, Gwendoline would choose a different suitor. It was the best Morwenna could hope for since the last thing she wanted to see was Robert with someone else. But even if he failed in his quest, he wouldn't want her. Better to distance herself from the feelings that would only cause her heartache.

She decided to wait a little longer, and in the meantime, she busied herself around camp. It was then that she noticed something was different. Something was out of place, but she couldn't quite decide what it was. Then again, she hadn't slept here in two nights. Robert or Brian might have returned to the camp.

Her gaze narrowed upon a small bundle. It wasn't Brian's, and she didn't recall seeing it earlier. Where had it come from?

She was about to untie it when she heard footsteps approaching. The dry leaves rustled, and she turned to see her brother. Relief flooded through her, and she smiled, turning to greet Brian.

‘Are you all right?' he asked.

‘Yes, of course.' She explained how she'd arranged a meeting between Robert and Lady Gwendoline. ‘I'm just waiting to give them some time together.'

Her brother's expression tightened. For a long moment he stared at her, and she wondered what was wrong. ‘Why did you leave Penrith? I know you weren't among the soldiers escorting us on the hunt. Did something happen?'

He gave a single nod but didn't elaborate. She waited for him to speak, but a myriad of emotions crossed over his face—apprehension, anger, and possibly fear.

‘Brian, tell me,' she urged. ‘Whatever it is, we'll solve the problem.'

‘The earl is watching you,' he said. ‘He knows something about your past. I heard some of the soldiers talking.'

She shook her head, not understanding. ‘What do you mean? Our father moved from place to place, and we went with him. What else is there to know?'

‘Morwenna, where do you think Geoffrey got that gown? And that pendant?' Her brother's expression turned grim. ‘I think our father was a thief. And we kept moving from place to place so he wouldn't get caught.'

A sour fear clenched her stomach. ‘A thief? No, that's not possible.' Their father had been the most ordinary man she'd ever known. He'd rarely spoken more than a few words, and she couldn't imagine him being capable of stealing.

‘We need to leave,' her brother said. ‘I don't like the way the earl is asking questions about us. If they find out we're the miller's children, disguising ourselves to be inside the keep, we could be in trouble. And worse, I think Father was hiding secrets. He knew nothing about grinding grain.'

That was true enough. ‘But he tried many ways to earn a living. How would he know how to grind wheat if he'd never done it before?' she pointed out. ‘That doesn't make him a thief. And why would he give the gown and pendant to me? He said it belonged to our mother.'

‘Did it? Do you think he was telling the truth?' Her brother shook his head. ‘Morwenna, something was wrong. I've been trying to find out more, but there aren't enough answers.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Why did they take us that night?'

She didn't understand what he was implying. ‘We were taken because they were raiding. We were hostages.'

‘Then why didn't they take anyone else?' He came closer, and in his eyes, she saw an intensity that bothered her. ‘Morwenna, I would swear they were hunting us. They knew where to look.' He closed his eyes, his voice filled with pain. ‘I don't think it was an accident that we were taken.'

She felt a chill even before he spoke again, a sense that he might be right. Brian reached for her and gripped her hand. ‘I don't have the answers, and I'm not even certain we'll find them here. But you must be careful. I think we should leave as soon as we can.'

‘We can't leave yet. Robert is competing in the contests,' she said dully. ‘If he marries Lady Gwendoline, he'll get Penrith back.'

‘The new lord won't allow that. He has his own plans for an alliance.'

‘I suppose, but if she loves him—'

‘It doesn't matter what she wants. She's her father's pawn, and he'll use her to get what he wants.' Her brother squeezed her hand. ‘I have to go back now. But Morwenna, promise me you'll be careful. Do nothing that will draw attention to yourself. And warn Robert not to pursue the heiress. Lord Penrith will only have him killed if he dares to court her.'

She didn't want to believe him, but her brother was not one to lie. He'd risked a great deal to warn her, and she needed to tell Robert. But even so, she suspected he wouldn't believe Brian.

‘I should go and find Gwendoline,' Morwenna said. ‘They'll come searching for me otherwise.' She gave her brother a quick embrace and said, ‘I promise I'll behave like a lady. Or at least, I'll try to.'

But as she went back to find Gwendoline, she wondered if Brian was right. Had their father buried secrets in the past? And was there a reason why they'd been captured on the night of the attack?

She walked back to the stream and hurried towards the oak tree. Though she didn't want to see Gwendoline and Robert together, she had to return. Once she reached the oak tree, there was no one there. She walked farther towards the opposite end of the stream, but there was no sign of Gwendoline.

Morwenna followed the stream in the direction they'd travelled earlier and picked up her skirts as she ran. Still no one. Her fear quickened as she wondered what the earl would say if she had to confess that she'd misplaced his daughter.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Gwendoline standing near the horses. The men had shot a deer, and two of the soldiers were busy cleaning the carcass.

‘Where have you been?' Gwendoline asked. ‘What happened?'

‘I went the wrong way down the stream,' she lied. ‘By the time I realised it, you had gone the other direction. I'm so sorry. I should have been more careful.'

Gwendoline linked her arm in Morwenna's, and it was then that she noticed the flush on the young woman's face. ‘There's something I need to tell you.' She led her away from the men to stand a short distance from them. In a whisper she confessed, ‘I—I met someone in the forest.'

Morwenna tried to feign surprise. ‘Who was it?'

Gwendoline's smile broke through, and she blushed. ‘I shouldn't tell you this. But I think he's one of my suitors. And he's so handsome.' She let out a sigh. ‘He offered to help me search for you, but then we started talking and I...got carried away.'

Morwenna glanced at Lord Penrith, who was still occupied with his men. ‘What do you mean you "got carried away"?'

Gwendoline's smile turned blinding. ‘He kissed me.' She hugged herself, leaning back against a tree. ‘It was simply wonderful. Everything I imagined it would be.'

Morwenna couldn't bring herself to return the smile, but Gwendoline didn't seem to notice. ‘Do you know his name?'

She nodded but didn't say it. ‘He promised to come to the feast tomorrow night. He's going to compete against the others.' Gwendoline let out a sigh. ‘I cannot wait to see him again.'

Before Morwenna could ask another question, Lord Penrith summoned them to return. She and Gwendoline mounted their horses and began the ride back to the castle keep.

‘I'll tell you everything when we're alone,' Gwen promised. ‘You simply won't believe what happened.'

It was a strain to keep a smile on her face, but Morwenna answered, ‘I want to hear all about it.'