Chapter Seven

I t had been two days since her father had locked her in her chamber. Alfred wouldn't say why, but Gwendoline was furious at his behaviour. One moment she'd been deciding upon a possible husband, and the next, he'd sent all the suitors away and had confined her to her room. The competition had ended without a winner. Why? She'd done nothing to deserve this.

Morwenna had gone missing, and something was very wrong. When Gwen had questioned the servants who brought her food, they had only shaken their heads.

No one else came to see her. It was infuriating, and she'd spent most of her hours stabbing her embroidery and imagining ways to escape. Although there had once been a secret passage leading from her room, her father had sealed it, and there was no way out except through her door. She'd thought Piers would help her, but he'd gone missing. He'd only spoken to her once, but she'd worried that he would be caught and had sent him away.

But not before he'd slid a ribbon beneath the door. The ribbon she'd lost that night...

Her face flushed at the memory.

But tonight, when it was time for her evening meal, the door swung open, and she saw a familiar face.

‘Piers,' she breathed. He had disguised himself as one of the guards, but she would recognise him anywhere.

He closed the door, and she started to run to him before she stopped herself. She had no right to embrace him, no matter that she found him handsome and was grateful for his rescue.

But despite her hesitation, Piers set down the food and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. For a moment, she clung to him, savouring the forbidden affection.

Colour flooded her cheeks, but she calmed herself and asked, ‘What's happening? Why am I being held prisoner by my father?'

His expression turned stony, and she didn't know what that meant. Then he said, ‘Your father doesn't want you to know that he took Morwenna prisoner. She was not...who you thought she was.'

‘She's the miller's daughter,' Gwendoline admitted. ‘I've known that for a few days now.' Piers appeared startled that she was aware of it, but one of the maids had told her. It made sense why Morwenna had always seemed uncertain of herself.

‘Were you the one who told the earl?'

She shook her head. ‘No, in truth, I like Morwenna. And even if she is a serf, what of it? Does she not deserve the chance to wed a good man? Why should the circumstances of her birth affect her future?'

An unspoken emotion flashed over Piers's face before he masked it. He took her hands in his and asked, ‘Do you want to help her?'

She smiled at that. ‘Of course, I do.'

‘We'll need a horse,' he said. ‘Can you make the arrangements?'

‘I don't...think I can. I'm supposed to be a prisoner, remember?'

He uttered a low curse, but then thought a moment. ‘Did Morwenna leave any of her belongings here? She had some of her brother's older clothes.'

Gwendoline walked over to her trunk and found the bundle. When she unwrapped it, she found the tunic and hose Piers was talking about. ‘Should I disguise myself?'

‘Tell the stable master that you are bringing a horse to his lordship. He won't question you.' Piers reached for a battered cap and set it upon her head.

She twisted her braids into the cap, hiding her hair. He was staring at her, and she couldn't guess the thoughts in his head. But when he cupped her cheek, his thumb stroked her skin, and the searing touch burned through her. He'd stolen kisses before, and she wanted to feel his mouth upon hers again. She'd never felt anything like the fierce attraction he'd conjured, but something warned her that she might not see him again. He was watching her as if trying to memorise her features.

‘Bring the horse to the barbican gate,' he said. ‘Try not to let them see you.'

She covered his hand with hers. ‘Are you going to get her out?'

His expression grew distant. ‘I'll do what I can. Something happened earlier. Soldiers were searching everywhere. I think Robert might have freed her, but from what I've heard, it went wrong.'

She met his gaze with her own stare. ‘You'll be careful?' He nodded. But again, something in his expression suggested that he was going to leave her. ‘Will you return to me?'

In answer, he crushed her mouth to his, kissing her hard. She returned the kiss, embracing him. There was a wildness about Piers, of a man who never followed the rules. And whatever his plan was, she sensed that it wasn't safe at all.

‘I'm going to wait for you in the hallway while you change your clothes,' he said. ‘Then I'll lock the door, so no one knows you're gone.'

Her heart was racing when he closed the door behind him, and she tore at the laces of her gown. Whatever happened this night, she sensed that it would be dangerous.

She could hardly wait.

Robert knew he was going to die. He'd fought the three guards, cutting down two of them before the third wounded him. A sword had sliced his left arm, and he'd taken a hard blow to his head. It had only been sheer force of will that had given him the strength to stumble back into the hallway. He'd crawled through the darkness to hide behind a barrel while the men searched. Before they found him, he'd pried at the secret entrance to the tunnel leading outside. He'd used the rest of his strength to slide two more barrels in front of the passageway to seal it closed so no one would know it was there.

He'd lost all track of time as he'd bled, crawling through the tunnels. His head throbbed with pain, and as he neared the exit, he suspected it would make no difference, even if he did get out. He lacked the strength to get very far.

He hoped to God that Brian had managed to get Morwenna away from Penrith. As long as they were safe, that was all that mattered. He imagined them riding into the woods, and with any luck, they would make it to the abbey.

As for himself, he would probably bleed out here, for he lacked the strength to run. He crawled along the ground, forcing himself to keep moving. With every inch, he thought of the mistakes he'd made and the life he would never have. He'd planned to retake Penrith, no matter what the cost. He'd sworn he would help the people regain their freedom. And now, it would never happen.

He thought of Morwenna as he dragged himself forward. The memory of her kiss would haunt him until he died. She had been his friend, his companion, and now she was all he could envision as he crept towards his last moments. He thought of her wild dark hair and those green eyes. She had clung to him, awakening him to what might have been.

After what seemed like an hour, he finally reached the edge of the tunnel and crawled beneath the brambles. The grass was damp beneath him, and he rolled on his back to stare at the night sky. The stars gleamed against the darkness, and for a moment, he lay there, wondering how long it would take for death to claim him.

It was what he deserved. He should have died on the night of the attack two years ago. It was only a mercy that they'd escaped. His only regret was that he'd never realised how Morwenna felt about him...or how he felt about her. He'd centred everything around Penrith, closing out his own desires. And now it was too late.

All around him, he heard the sound of soldiers searching. They would likely find his body in an hour or two. Robert closed his eyes, hearing the hoof beats as they drew closer. He couldn't see what was happening, but when he tried to lift his head and shoulders, he gasped with the effort. There was the mingled noise of voices, and he couldn't distinguish anything. A rushing sound filled his ears as he tried to shrink back into the brambles.

Then he saw the flare of a torch. For a moment, the light blinded him, and weariness claimed his spirit. They had found him after all.

One week later

Morwenna drifted in and out of consciousness. Her back ached with agony, but the greater pain lay in her heart. Robert was dead. He had sacrificed himself to save them, and she would bear the guilt for always.

She never should have tried to be someone she wasn't. It didn't matter who her mother might have been or who her family was. All that mattered was who she was. And she was no one at all. She had dared to dream of loving Robert, and now he was gone.

Tears broke through, and she wept. She blamed herself for all of it. She had dared to reach for something that wasn't hers, and now he had paid the price with his life.

She didn't know where she was or what they would do now, but she was drowning in the pain of her heart and her body. All she could do was stare at the stone wall.

‘Morwenna.' She didn't turn around at the sound of her brother's voice. It hardly mattered what anyone said any more. It didn't change her circumstances.

When she didn't answer, Brian came closer and knelt beside her pallet. For a moment, she could hardly bear to look at him. In his hand, he held out the golden pendant that had belonged to their mother. ‘I stole this back on the night before you were beaten.'

She didn't take it, for the very sight of the thing evoked memories of the earl. Because of this, she had been flogged. This chain of gold had represented the dream of being someone else. She had worn the clothes of a noblewoman and had lived a different life for a week.

Brian let the chain fall upon the blanket, but she didn't touch it. She never wanted to see it again, for it was a symbol of her failure.

Her brother rested his hand upon hers. ‘You'll be safe here at the abbey. Brother Douglas said he would bring you to the sisters at the nunnery.'

He was speaking as if he intended to send her away. ‘Brian, what do you mean? Why would you send me away?'

Her brother's expression was grim. ‘It's better this way.'

Morwenna struggled to rise from the pallet and then remembered that her shift was still split open at the back. Someone had treated her wounds with a poultice that smelled terrible.

‘Were you planning to go somewhere?'

‘I know you blame me for what happened to Robert.' Her brother laced his hands together, his expression sombre. ‘He warned me that we needed more help to free you. He asked me to wait and fetch Piers, but instead, I broke through the door. And now he's dead because I wouldn't listen to him. No matter what I do, I can never atone for it.'

His words were a blade slicing through a heartache that hadn't healed. In spite of herself, she couldn't stop the tears. ‘And you think that by leaving, it will make it all better? Why do you think I would forgive you for abandoning me?'

‘Morwenna, I can't forgive myself. I intend to go with the Crusaders to the Holy Land. I'll... I'll fight for God and perhaps find absolution when I die.'

She stared back at him. ‘If you go, I'll never see you again.'

His expression remained bleak. ‘I deserve that, Morwenna.'

‘And did I deserve to lose the man I love and now lose my only brother?' she asked. ‘If you go, I have no one.' A flood of emotions washed over her, and this time she ignored the poultices and herbs, clutching her shift as she sat up.

‘I caused another man to die because I made a reckless move. I can't live with that, Morwenna. I deserved to die instead of him.'

The guilt of survival bore down on him, and she needed a way to bring him back from the edge. She tried to think of what she could say, how she could break through to him.

‘I know you believe you have to die,' she began. ‘You don't, Brian. You made a mistake, aye. But there are other ways to atone for it.'

‘How? All Robert ever wanted was to restore Penrith and reclaim it.' He shook his head. ‘There's nothing I can do to help with that.'

‘Penrith was never our true home,' she agreed.

‘We never had a home. Father was always moving us from place to place over the years.'

It was then that she seized on something that might distract her brother from his rash plan. ‘Brian... I don't think he was our father.'

His brow furrowed at her statement. ‘What are you talking about?'

She reached for the fallen pendant and held it out. ‘If he was, he would have sold this. And the gown.'

He took it from her, examining the gold. While he did, she continued. ‘The earl brought the midwife when he was questioning me. I didn't know why at the time.'

The memory of the beating made her tense, but she forced herself to continue. ‘But the midwife said that our mother couldn't bear children. She believes Eldreth stole us from another family.'

‘That's not possible,' Brian said.

‘Are you certain? She never had any other children.' The more she thought of it, the more sense it made. Despite her mother having been married to their father for years, there had not been any other pregnancies. ‘And why else would they keep moving every year or two?'

Since they had never stayed in one place for long, Morwenna had grown so accustomed to losing friends, it was easier to remain isolated and not befriend anyone. She reached for the fallen pendant and held it out. ‘The earl said this once belonged to Queen Eleanor, Brian.'

‘We aren't of royal blood,' he argued.

‘I know. But how did Eldreth get this? Did they steal it?'

He paled at her revelation as if he didn't want to believe any of it. ‘I don't know. The earl might be wrong about the pendant. Perhaps it wasn't the queen's.' He laid the chain back upon the pallet. ‘It might have been something they found somewhere. Or perhaps he bought it.'

‘You don't believe that,' she asserted. ‘Our father didn't have two coins of his own.'

Brian only shrugged. With a sigh, he acknowledged, ‘You're right. Despite where he got it, he kept it for a reason.'

Morwenna didn't know what to believe. Right now, the weariness overtook her, and she hardly cared where the pendant had come from. She laid back upon the pallet. ‘Brian, I don't know who we are any more. But if you leave, there's no one left for me. I don't even know who our real family was.' She reached out her hand, and he knelt beside her. Then he clasped it, pressing their clasped hands to his forehead.

‘We'll always be family.' He gripped her hand tightly, and she reached out to touch his hair. For a moment, he remained kneeling beside her, as if asking for a silent blessing.

And then he reached out to touch her face. ‘Sleep well, Sister.'

‘Will I see you in the morning?' she asked.

But his expression remained stoic, and he gave no answer.

Robert awakened to the piercing light of morning. He shielded his eyes and noticed that someone had bound up his left arm. His head still throbbed, but he was alive. He had no memory of how he'd escaped Penrith. Behind him, he heard footsteps, and he turned around to see his half-brother.

‘You're awake, I see.' Piers reached for a crust of bread and tossed it to him.

Robert stared at the man in disbelief. Of all the people in his life, he'd never imagined Piers would save his life. His brother could easily have allowed him to die and later claimed Penrith. It was sobering, knowing that he owed everything to Piers.

‘I thought you might be in trouble when I saw the soldiers searching.' Piers crouched down to look at him.

‘Why did you save me?' Robert couldn't imagine any reason why his brother would help him.

‘I probably should have let you bleed to death,' Piers admitted. ‘But then I thought it might bring me an advantage later. You owe me a favour, Robert. And one day I'll collect on it.'

Now that ruthless tone sounded more like his brother. He struggled to sit up from the pallet. Piers had bound up his arm with linen, and when Robert reached up to his forehead, he felt another bandage there.

There was a fire nearby, and it seemed as if they were inside a cave of sorts. He didn't recognise this place. His stomach roared with hunger, and he reached for the bread Piers had given him.

Memories started to return. Mostly the memory of pain and exhaustion. He vaguely recalled Piers hauling him on horseback, travelling through the night until he'd passed out from the agony.

Robert ate the bread, and his brother held out a flask. He drank, not realising how thirsty he was until he'd drained the ale. ‘Where are we?'

‘Not far from Colford. I didn't take you there at first because they were searching near the abbey. I think you've healed enough to go now.'

Though his left arm still ached with a fierce pain, the crushing pain from his head had improved. ‘How long have we been here?'

‘We've been in this cave for two days,' his brother answered. ‘But it's been five days since I found you.'

He gaped at Piers in shock. ‘What do you mean? How could it be a sennight?' Had he been that weak that he'd lost all track of time?

‘We had to keep moving to different places. Lady Gwendoline helped us escape her father.' His brother explained how the lady had been kept prisoner in her room during Morwenna's questioning, which explained why she'd done nothing to help.

Robert didn't miss the tone of his brother's voice when he spoke of the lady. He'd been defensive, as if trying to protect Gwendoline.

‘What about Morwenna and Brian?' Robert asked. ‘What happened to them?' The need to ensure their safety overshadowed all else.

‘Morwenna is already at Colford Abbey,' Piers said. ‘I'll take you to her. I saw Brian travelling south with some of the monks. I don't know where they're going, but I'm certain they all believe you're dead.'

‘I'll send word to Brian,' Robert answered. His uncle could help with that. In the meantime, his greater concern was Morwenna. ‘Will you take me to the abbey?' He needed to see her, to ensure that she was all right.

‘We'll have to wait a little while until it's dark,' his brother warned. ‘The earl is still searching for us.'

Robert tried to stand up, but the moment he was on his feet, the ground tipped. He rested his hand against the stone wall to regain his balance. After five days, he'd thought he would be ready to travel—but now he wondered just how wounded he'd been. It sobered him to realise how weak he was.

‘You took a hard blow to your head,' Piers said. ‘I thought they cracked your skull. And you lost a lot of blood.' He held out a piece of dried meat and another flask, this one filled with water. ‘I imagine you're starving. It was hard to force you to eat when you were mostly unconscious.'

Robert ate the meat and the salty taste of the venison made him tear into the food with a hunger he hadn't anticipated. Piers gave him more bread, which he devoured.

‘You saved my life,' he acknowledged. ‘I'm grateful for it.'

His brother gave a shrug. ‘I suppose you'd have done the same for me.'

Robert agreed with a nod. ‘I would have, aye. We may have been born from different mothers, but we share blood. That means something.'

Their relationship had never been easy, but he did want to bridge the distance between them. Especially now.

It seemed as if there was more that his brother wanted to say. Robert waited, and finally, Piers added, ‘I saved your life, but there's something I want in return.'

Not Penrith , Robert wanted to blurt out, but he held his tongue.

Instead, he met his brother's gaze. ‘What is it you want?'

‘Lady Gwendoline's hand in marriage,' Piers answered. ‘She's mine. You will never lay claim to her as a bride.'

The hard, possessive tone took Robert by surprise. He'd believed that his brother's fascination with Gwendoline was tied up with Penrith, but there seemed to be more. For a moment, he wondered if Piers had feelings for the lady.

‘And what about Penrith?' he asked.

His brother's face turned stony, and he met Robert's gaze with his own. ‘I'm not giving her up. Whether the lands are involved or not.'

His mood tightened over that. But he knew he owed Piers everything and that meant choosing his words carefully. Penrith was far more important to him than the Lady Gwendoline. He just didn't know how to regain the estate.

‘I won't pursue Lady Gwendoline,' Robert agreed. ‘But you'll have to fight that battle with her father.' He already knew there was little chance of Piers winning the lady as a wife.

‘Our fight has already begun,' Piers said but didn't explain any further. He began to saddle the horses, preparing for their journey.

Robert took another drink of water. The truth was, he'd only courted Gwendoline in the hope of winning Penrith. His own feelings for the woman had never ventured beyond admiration. Even when he'd competed for her, his thoughts had always been caught up in Morwenna. He'd been aware of her presence, always conscious of her eyes watching him. And he wanted nothing more than to see her this night. It was a fierce need, to see if she had healed from the whipping, to watch over her and protect her.

Piers paused and turned back to him. ‘I don't know what will happen with Penrith. But we both know you'd be dead if it weren't for me.'

Robert didn't answer at first, for he wasn't ready to abandon his people or his quest to free them from Alfred's rule. He hadn't forgotten his vow.

At last, he said, ‘Neither of us can have the estate unless the king intervenes. I think we should appeal to him and let him make the choice.'

Piers's expression hardened. ‘You owe me, Robert.'

The words hung between them like a sword blade. He knew his brother was right, but he couldn't surrender everything. Not yet.

‘It's getting dark now,' he said. ‘Let's go to Colford and speak of it later.'

He stumbled his way towards the horses, but the moment he tried to mount one, his brother sighed. ‘You're not strong enough.' It was humiliating to have Piers help him up, but he knew better than to imagine that he could walk to Colford. His wounds were healing, but the blow he'd taken to the head still ached, even now.

Though it was just past sunset, his brother didn't bother to light a torch. It wasn't needed because the horse knew the trail, and Robert suspected Piers didn't want anyone following them. As they continued through the forest, he couldn't quite read his brother's mood, but there seemed to be a trace of annoyance.

Had Piers expected him to surrender Penrith to him without a fight? He couldn't do it. Not yet. Though his brother might want to claim it, without the king's blessing it would never happen. If Alfred died, King John would only bring in another nobleman. The matter of ruling the estate was far more complex.

But his brother's resentment was brewing, and he sensed that Piers would not rest until he had taken everything.

It was an hour later when they arrived at the abbey. His uncle, Father Oswald, led them to a small cell with two beds. ‘You can sleep here for the night.'

‘Uncle, I need to see Morwenna,' Robert insisted. He would not rest until he had reassured himself that she was all right.

‘You may see her in the morning,' Oswald answered. ‘She is asleep.'

‘She believes I'm dead. I need her to know that I survived the fight.' But more than that, he wanted to see her with his own eyes. He needed to look upon her and know that she was healing. Even then, it would not assuage his guilt. Brian had been right. He'd spent too long planning instead of acting. And because of it, Morwenna had paid the price.

When his uncle hesitated, Robert added, ‘If you do not bring me to her tonight, I will search every cell until I find her.'

His uncle exchanged a glance with Piers as if suddenly realising that Robert meant it. ‘I suppose I can take you to her.'

He led them along a narrow cloister walk with a small courtyard in the centre. Robert leaned heavily on a walking staff, though he kept up with his uncle's pace.

Piers followed him to one of the cells on the far end. In a low voice, he told Robert, ‘One of the monks tended her wounds, but the abbot wants to send her to a nunnery. He thinks it would be better for her to be cared for by women.'

Robert answered him quietly, ‘That's not going to happen. She stays with me.'

As they drew closer, Piers added, ‘Is it right to make that demand? Morwenna has been in love with you for two years, Robert. If you don't care for her in the same way, it's better to let her go.'

His brother's admonition sobered him, for he didn't know what his feelings were. He knew Morwenna cared for him, but he hadn't allowed himself to think of his own desires. He'd been so caught up in his quest to regain Penrith, he'd shut out the rest of the world.

But after he'd nearly died, right now, he needed to see her as much as he needed to breathe.

‘I'm not going anywhere,' he told his brother.

‘But I am.' Piers reached out and gripped his uninjured arm. ‘I'll stay here tonight, but at dawn, I'm leaving to join Gwendoline again.' With a pause, he added, ‘Be well, Robert. But stay away from Gwen.' With that, his brother turned back and walked in the opposite direction.

The abbot knocked on one of the doors, but there was only silence. Oswald paused and said, ‘She hasn't answered. We may want to leave her alone if she's asleep.'

‘I need to speak with her,' Robert told his uncle. ‘And I'm not leaving until I know she's all right.'

The abbot's face revealed his disapproval, but he did not refuse the request. ‘I will go and fetch Brother Anselm to change her poultice. You may have a few moments, but that is all.' In this, the abbot would not yield. His face held an iron resolve, and finally, Robert relented.

‘I won't be long.' He opened the cell door and saw Morwenna huddled on a pallet facing the opposite wall. The wooden shutters were slightly ajar, allowing a little moonlight into the space. From the flare of his uncle's torch, he could see the angry healing skin on her back. The lines crisscrossed in raw patterns that made his jaw tighten. The flogging never should have happened to her.

‘I don't need anything,' she murmured, as if she believed one of the brothers had brought her food. ‘You can go.'

Robert closed the door behind him and walked closer. He set the walking stick aside and slowly lowered himself to his knees beside her. ‘What if I don't want to go?'

She turned around and saw him kneeling beside the pallet. ‘Robert?' Her voice held disbelief, and in one swift motion, he pulled her into his arms. She wept against his neck as he held her, careful not to touch her wounds. ‘Brian said you were dead.'

‘I managed to break free of the guards, but I was wounded.' He didn't want to go into all the details, but he cupped her face in his hands.

‘I can't believe you're here.' She was smiling through her tears. ‘You're alive.' Despite her ragged appearance, her dark hair curled against her face while her green eyes were bright.

He rested his forehead against hers, wanting to kiss her, and yet he was uncertain whether she would want him to. His brother's claim that Morwenna was in love with him unnerved him. He didn't know what to do or what to say.

Her lips were soft, her eyes gleaming with tears. All he had to do was lean a little closer and his mouth would be upon hers. And yet, something held him back. She was beautiful, staring at him with silent expectations he didn't know he could fulfil.

She clutched the coverlet to her, but he was fully aware of her bare shoulders and spine. Although the wounds were healing well, it still infuriated him that he hadn't been able to stop the whipping. She hadn't deserved any of this.

‘I owe my life to Piers,' he admitted. ‘He found me just outside the tunnel and brought me into hiding. If it weren't for his rescue, I would have died that night.'

Morwenna met his gaze openly. ‘I'm so glad you escaped.' She embraced him again, and he welcomed her arms around his neck. Gently, he held her waist, careful to avoid her wounds.

‘But what will happen now?' she asked when she pulled back. ‘You...cannot go back to Penrith.' The tone of her voice revealed her doubts.

He kept his hand on her waist. ‘I need to appeal to the king now. He is the only one who can help me regain my lands.'

Her expression tightened as if she didn't agree with him. ‘That's dangerous, Robert.'

‘I don't have a choice. I swore an oath to the people that I would return. I can't turn my back on them again. Dangerous or not, I have to gain an audience.'

But she was already shaking her head. ‘Do you think you can bargain with a man who ordered Penrith to be burned to the ground?' she asked quietly. ‘The king wanted us dead, Robert. How can you forget?'

‘We don't know that,' he argued. ‘There might have been another reason for the attack.'

‘Kings don't need reasons. They do whatever they want,' she insisted. ‘Leave it be, Robert. It's not worth your life.'

But she didn't understand. Frustration swelled up inside him at his own failure. He hadn't even fought that night two years ago. He'd been captured along with the others, and he'd watched the fires burn while his people had died. His father had always been disappointed in him, and Robert knew that his cowardice had cost lives. ‘My people asked me to fight for them. They're suffering, and I can't be a coward—not about this.'

‘You were never that,' she countered.

‘Wasn't I? After we escaped, I remained in hiding for two years. I let no one know that I lived. I'm not going to stay back and deny those who need my help now.'

Morwenna closed her eyes, and he could see the worry from the tension in her face. ‘I don't want you to die,' she murmured. ‘I can't stand back and let it happen.'

Her words cut into him, and he understood that this wasn't about the king at all. It was because she worried about him. He softened his words and answered, ‘Then what do you want me to do, Morwenna?'

Her expression turned pained. ‘I want you to wait. If you're trying to prove your loyalty, you cannot go empty-handed to the king. John needs armies to fight in France. Bring him a gift of gold, and he may listen to your plea.'

‘I have no gold, Morwenna.' She knew this, as well as he did.

‘Then take some time and earn it,' she said. ‘Don't you think the king will believe your fealty if you bring him wealth? He might consider it then.'

‘I don't know if I can wait that long, Morwenna. The people need my help now.'

She grew quiet, and he reached out to touch her shoulder. He didn't want to fight with her. Not at this moment. He stroked the skin, watching her expression.

‘Are you planning to leave me behind when you go?' she asked.

‘It's not what I want. I'd rather take you with me, but it's likely safer if you stay.' He wanted her to be well protected, and there was a chance they could be caught by Penrith's men if they travelled together.

She reached for his hand. ‘I will go where you go, Robert. For however long that is.'

He squeezed her hand and admitted, ‘I don't know how long we'll be travelling or even where to find the king. But we need to leave soon. We have to go farther to avoid Penrith's men. If they catch us...'

‘We die,' she finished. ‘But how can we travel without being found?'

‘I think I know a way we can escape notice,' he said. ‘If we dress as monks or Crusaders.' They would be looking for a woman, but if he disguised her well enough, they might escape notice.

‘It seems that I am destined to wear men's clothing.' She gave a rueful smile. ‘But aye, that would be best.' She paused and reached within her belongings, retrieving the golden pendant she had worn at the feasting. ‘I also want to speak to the king about my mother. I thought this pendant belonged to her...but Lord Penrith said it was once Queen Eleanor's.'

Robert studied it, but there was no way to know if that was true. ‘Do you think he was telling the truth?'

She nodded. ‘I need to know how Eldreth got this from the queen and who she was.' She lifted her gaze to his. ‘Who I really am.'

He realised then, that she didn't know he'd come to see her while she was imprisoned. ‘I was there on the day Penrith brought the midwife. I heard what she said about your mother.'

Her brow furrowed. ‘I never saw you.'

‘I disguised myself among the guards. I was trying to find out where you were, so I could rescue you later that night. I couldn't reveal myself.'

Her expression held a blend of confusion. ‘I wish I'd known. I thought no one would come for me.'

Robert reached out to touch her cheek. ‘I will always come for you, Morwenna.' Then he leaned in and kissed her. He needed her to know what she meant to him.

When he drew back, he promised, ‘We will try to find the answers about the past.' And he wanted his own answers about why his father had been executed. If there was any means of finding the truth, they would pursue it.

When he studied her, her expression turned vulnerable. ‘I want to believe that I'm more than the miller's daughter.'

In her green eyes, he saw the blend of fear and anticipation. She was pinning her hopes on an unknown family bloodline, on a possible alliance that could help him win Penrith.

‘You've always been more.' He drew closer and reached for her hand. Though he wanted to tell her how he felt, he also knew that he had nothing to offer Morwenna. Not until he'd resolved the matter of Penrith. He'd sworn to Piers that he would leave Gwendoline alone—and he would. But he could not relinquish his vow to help the people.

‘We'll travel south as soon as you are well enough.'

She gave a nod and released his palm. For a moment, he studied her, noting her pale complexion and the thin shift. He touched her shoulder and saw the dark bruises and broken skin on her back.

Guilt washed over him at the sight of her wounds. He should have found a way to rescue her before this. Her brother had behaved in a rash manner, acting without thought. But it had stopped her punishment. Robert despised himself for not acting when he'd first found her in chains. His hesitation had nearly caused Morwenna even more pain. These wounds were his fault, as much as the earl's.

‘How do you feel?' he asked. It was a foolish question, and yet it was all he could manage.

‘Sore,' she admitted, ‘but Brother Anselm gave me a poultice that is helping. It's mostly bruises now.'

‘Good.' The awkwardness descended between them once more as he struggled to think about what else to say. Apologies weren't enough.

Her hands moved from his neck to his face. ‘I'm glad you're here, Robert.'

For a moment, he simply stared at her. He tried to come up with the right words, but there were none. The tenderness in her eyes was his undoing, and no words were needed as he bent to steal another kiss. Her lips were soft against his, sweetly yielding. A rush of desire flooded through him as he claimed her mouth.

This was what he'd wanted. And somehow the kiss expressed all the feelings he couldn't say. Though he didn't know what he was doing, it felt right to hold her. And when she kissed him back, it was as if she'd lit a flame to his senses. They were both alive and they'd somehow survived again.

The need to touch her was overwhelming.

Morwenna wondered if she was dreaming. Robert had come for her, and she was in his arms. Joy and fear mingled within her—happiness that he was alive and worry that their time together was fleeting. She revelled in the kiss, craving his touch even as she knew it could not last. He cradled her face between his hands before they drifted downward. Her shift hung loose upon her since it had been cut open by the soldiers and Brother Anselm had treated her wounds. Though her body ached with the pain, Robert's touch was a welcome distraction.

‘Morwenna,' he breathed. ‘I want to kill Penrith for hurting you.' He slid his hands lower, his kiss growing more demanding. Her body filled up with yearning, her breasts tightening as he kissed her.

‘I blame myself,' he admitted, pulling back. ‘I should have stopped it before it began, no matter the risk.'

‘It wasn't your fault,' she argued. ‘And you did try to stop him.'

His hands moved to her shoulders. With the lightest touch, he slid his fingers down her sides, trying to avoid her back. ‘Not soon enough.' In his voice, she heard guilt and frustration. He cupped her face between his hands and admitted, ‘I won't make that mistake again.'

She began to tremble with anticipation as his heated breath warmed her throat. She could hardly bear it as his mouth moved lower.

‘I don't have much time,' he confessed. ‘But I had to see you.' He kissed the space beneath her throat, and it was then that her shift fell from her shoulders, baring her breasts. Though she knew she should cover herself, she ached for him, wanting more.

He hesitated, asking silent permission. When she didn't move, he drew his hands lower, his fingertips grazing against her nipples. A shock of pleasure deepened her needs.

‘Touch me more,' she whispered. ‘Just for a little while.'

He obeyed, stroking her breasts and cupping them. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and she moaned as he caressed her nipples. Between her legs she grew wet, and she didn't understand the rising sensations that gripped her. She was kneeling before him, and when he kissed a path lower, he stopped at her breast. Again, he waited, and she drew his mouth to her nipple. His warm mouth circled it, gently suckling, and pleasure tore through her. She clutched his head, barely able to keep a clear thought as his tongue swirled over the erect tip.

‘Are you all right?' he murmured upon her skin. ‘Should I stop?'

‘Don't stop,' she answered. Her body was arching in a gentle rhythm with an ebb and flow. He took the other breast in his mouth while he continued caressing the first, his thumb circling the taut nipple. She was drowning in need, her body aching for more. Though she had never known lovemaking, she wanted Robert to be her first and only. She wanted to feel the hard length of his body covering hers, and she wanted him to fill her until their bodies became one.

‘There's not enough time,' he gritted out. ‘They're going to return soon.'

She slid her hands beneath his tunic, her palms touching his hard chest. She explored his bare skin, learning the hard curves of his pectoral muscles. And then her hand moved lower, over his ridged stomach.

To her shock, her fingers brushed across the velvet head of his manhood straining against his trews. She was about to apologise, but he brought her hand back to his erection.

‘You can touch me any way you want,' he said.

His breathing was as harsh as her own, and when his tongue caressed her nipple again, she curled her palm over his flesh. He guided her, showing her how to move her hand up and down.

While she caressed him, she felt the echoing ache deep inside. Her body was trembling, so close to a peak she didn't understand. But when a hard knock sounded at the door, she jerked away from him and lay face down on the pallet to hide her nakedness.

The door swung open, and the abbot entered, followed by Brother Anselm. ‘Morwenna, Brother Anselm is here to change your poultice. Robert, it's time for you to return to your own cell.'

She felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment and wanted to bury herself in the pallet. Did the brethren suspect what they had been doing? She hoped not.

‘Goodnight, Morwenna.' Robert's voice was husky, and in his tone, she sensed the physical frustration that echoed her own.

‘You may see each other in the morning,' Father Oswald said. ‘Afterwards, Sister Bertrice has promised to come. She will bring Morwenna to the nunnery by Saint Michael's Well.'

Morwenna wasn't surprised at his mention of Sister Bertrice. The abbot had never been comfortable with her presence here, even when she'd been here before.

But Robert appeared irritated by the abbot's statement. ‘Morwenna is not leaving,' he told the others. ‘Not for the nunnery, at least.'

His answer startled her, for she hadn't expected him to interfere. Given her state of undress, she couldn't sit up to face them.

‘She cannot stay here,' the abbot continued. ‘I allowed it for a few days, but she must be cared for by women.'

Before Robert could argue, Brother Anselm interrupted. ‘I will look at her wounds now. If you will grant us privacy for a few moments, Father.'

The abbot inclined his head. ‘We will leave you to it.' To Robert, he added, ‘Walk with me.'

Robert held her gaze for a moment before he left with the abbot. In the darkness, her face grew flushed. She had never meant for things to go this far. But the line had been crossed, and she wasn't sure what that meant. She had never really imagined that he might desire her. But now that he did, she had no idea what to do about it.

Brother Anselm drew closer and examined her back. ‘The poultice seems to be drawing out the swelling. You will bear the scars all your life, but it should heal.'

He prepared the new poultice with herbs he'd brought. ‘Father Oswald is concerned about the danger you both face. Lord Penrith is hunting for you, and we thought you would be safer at the nunnery.'

His quiet explanation soothed her with the realisation that they were still trying to help.

‘I am grateful for your offer, Brother Anselm,' she said, ‘but my wounds have nearly healed enough for me to travel. I need to know what happened to my family. Robert promised to help me find them.' She didn't mention that she had no idea who they were or where to find her true mother and father. Part of her wanted to know if there was any chance that she was not a commoner. If she had been stolen from another family, was it possible?

The queen's pendant held the answers, and she intended to find them. She could not remain in hiding for the rest of her life.

‘I do not think you should travel alone with a man who is not your husband,' Brother Anselm said softly.

His words could not have been more blunt. Morwenna held her shift to her, and said, ‘He is a lord. He would never wed someone like me, and I would not ask that of him.'

‘Do you not believe you are worthy of marriage?' he asked.

His kindness dug deeper into her vulnerabilities, causing tears to rise. It was a dream she didn't dare to imagine. ‘Not with a man such as Robert. I know my place.'

She sensed that, despite her feelings, if she stayed with Robert there would eventually come a time when he would break her heart. Just because he wanted her now did not mean there wouldn't come a time when he desired another.

But she intended to savour these moments, fleeting though they would be. Her body flushed at the memory of his touch while she tried to suppress her feelings. ‘I thank you for tending my wounds, Brother Anselm. But Robert will be my protector from now on.' Even so, she knew that the risk to her heart was grave.

Anselm's mouth tightened with disapproval, but he said nothing more.

Robert followed his uncle into a small cell. The abbot gestured for him to take a seat, and he did. ‘I must warn you that you cannot stay here, Robert. The earl and his men have been searching this area for days now. If you're found...'

‘I know,' he finished. ‘I won't stay long. I intend to leave in the morning with Morwenna.' Although neither of them was fully healed, they were well enough to travel.

His uncle appeared uncertain about his plans, but he did not dispute them. ‘What of your arm, Robert? How are your own wounds?'

‘The wound is healing,' he answered. ‘But I can fight with my right arm.' The pain was a dull ache, but it was also a constant reminder that he'd survived the worst fight of his life. It made him wonder about what would happen to Piers. His brother had spoken of his intent to return to Penrith for Gwendoline—but, if the earl learned that his daughter's suitor was a bastard, he would order Piers to be killed. And Robert didn't like that risk, especially after his brother had saved his life.

‘Brother Anselm can look at your arm, if you wish,' his uncle offered. ‘He is a good healer.'

Robert was about to agree, but his uncle wasn't finished. ‘I don't think it's wise to travel with the woman. As I said before, Sister Bertrice has offered to escort Morwenna to the nunnery. She will be safe there. Her brother Brian joined a group of my men to fight in the Crusades,' the abbot continued. ‘Perhaps you might do the same. God could use a sword such as yours.'

Robert had no intention of leaving Morwenna at the nunnery. He had to choose his words carefully, so as not to offend the abbot. ‘Morwenna has suffered a great deal at the earl's hands through no fault of her own. I'm not going to abandon her now.'

His uncle Oswald studied him closely. His face held wrinkles and a neatly trimmed white beard. ‘You need to think about what your father would have wanted. My brother made many mistakes, but he obeyed his duties.'

‘I don't think I can regain Penrith without the help of the king,' Robert admitted. ‘I intend to find him.' He knew not what King John would say, but he hoped the monarch would see reason and give him the chance to restore his father's good name.

The abbot let out a sigh. ‘He is travelling north towards Scotland, so I've heard.'

‘Then we will go south to intercept him,' Robert said.

‘I suppose I cannot stop you, though I think it will be futile,' Oswald replied. ‘Your father's rebellion was grave enough to cost him his life. I fear for yours.'

‘It is my risk to take,' he answered. Though Robert knew it was unwise to bring Morwenna with him, he sensed that he would never see her again if he left her behind. The instinctive need to keep her close was overshadowing his common sense. ‘She comes with me.'

The abbot shook his head. ‘If you travel with her alone, you could both be caught by the earl and executed.'

Robert knew the risk, but he had a better way of travelling. If they disguised themselves in the right way, no one would find them.

‘But there is something else you should consider,' his uncle continued. ‘If you...have feelings for this woman, you risk the greater sin of taking her virtue.' The abbot's face reddened, and he said gently, ‘Unless you intend to marry her and abandon Penrith, you should not travel alone with her, Robert.'

He knew what his uncle meant, but he could not even contemplate marriage to anyone until he'd made a decision about his estate. Still, he inclined his head and said, ‘Morwenna has already agreed to travel with me.' He met his uncle's frank gaze. ‘I will protect her life with my own.'

The abbot's disapproval was evident. ‘The longer you stay, the greater the risk becomes. They will find you and surround the abbey.'

He ignored his uncle's prediction and said simply, ‘We are leaving at dawn.'