Chapter Eight

T he following day, Morwenna rode south with Robert at her side. They wore the cowls and undyed woollen habits of the Cistercian monks as a disguise. The abbot had sent them with supplies and bags of grain. ‘The crops have failed in many estates this year,' he'd warned. ‘You may be able to barter for food and shelter with the grain.' Then he'd sent them off with a blessing, warning them to stay away from the main roads as much as possible.

They journeyed for hours, stopping once at noontide by a stream to rest and eat before they continued onward. Morwenna thought of Brian and wondered if she would ever see him again. Though she'd asked Father Oswald to send word to her brother, there was no way of knowing whether their paths would cross.

A comfortable silence descended between them, and she wondered about Robert's plans. She'd urged him to wait before appealing to the king, but she wasn't certain he would. He had wrapped up all his expectations in Penrith, and she didn't know if he would succeed in his quest.

She glanced behind her, grateful that none of Lord Penrith's men had followed them thus far. Though they were both armed, she knew better than to think they could fight off the soldiers alone.

Her body was sore from travelling, her wounds aching. Brother Anselm had given her the herbs to make another poultice, but she would need Robert's help putting it on. Her back had healed somewhat, though it was still tender from bruising.

‘Are you ready to stop for the night?' he asked. ‘There's a stone outcropping ahead. We could take shelter there.'

‘Do you think it's safe to build a fire?'

He nodded. ‘I've been watching, but there's no sign that anyone has followed us.' He led her towards the clearing, and she saw the limestone rock face he'd described. He helped her dismount and took both horses to the stream to drink. She stretched and began to gather sticks and tinder for a fire.

Robert let the horses graze and returned to her. ‘If you'll start the fire, I'll try to get fish for our supper.' He gave her flint, and she bent beside the tinder she'd gathered. It took time for the dried moss to spark a flame, but she eventually managed to feed it twigs and then a log from the forest. It was comforting to sit beside the fire, and she retrieved a small pot from their belongings that the abbot had given her. After filling it with water, she set it near the fire to warm up. She needed to steep the healing herbs for the new poultice.

Robert returned with two fish he'd caught from the stream. He cleaned them and set them up to cook over the fire. They ate, and afterwards, she asked, ‘How is your arm? I have some healing herbs from Brother Anselm. I could tend it for you.'

‘It's still sore,' he admitted, ‘but the pain is bearable.'

She suspected his wounds hurt as much as hers, though he had not said so. Morwenna added the herbs to the hot water and bade him sit down. She knelt beside him while the herbs steeped and began to unwrap the bandage around his left arm.

‘What happened after Brian took me from Penrith?' she asked, unwinding the linen. ‘We escaped, but I was so afraid you would die. How did Piers save you?'

‘I don't really remember all of it,' he confessed. ‘I wounded two of the soldiers, but the third gave me this cut. Someone struck me on the head, and I honestly don't know how I managed to get into the tunnels. Piers found me outside and saved my life. We were in hiding for a sennight because Penrith's men were searching for us. I woke up in a cave before he brought me to the abbey.'

Morwenna took a clean piece of linen and dipped it into the warm water. Gently, she cleaned his wound. Although the skin was still red, the ragged edges had knit together. She washed the wound, and he gave a slight shudder.

‘Does that hurt?' she asked.

He shook his head. But his brown eyes held her captive, searing her with unspoken desire. As she touched him, she grew conscious of her own heartbeat and the warmth of his skin. She remembered his hands touching her, cupping her breasts and stroking the erect tips. God help her, she wanted this man.

She wrapped a new bandage around his arm and tied it off. His gaze was heated, and he said, ‘Your turn.'

Beneath the monk's habit, she wore her torn shift. She turned her back to him and lifted the habit over her head, baring the shift. The back hung open, exposing her wounds. Though she had received only five lashes, three had broken the skin. The rest of her back was heavily bruised.

Robert was silent for a long time. ‘I cannot tell you how sorry I am, Morwenna. This never should have happened to you.'

‘I survived,' she answered, ‘and so did you.'

He dipped another linen cloth into the warm water and wrung it out. Gently, he washed her back. Gooseflesh rose up over her skin, but it was his touch that undid her senses. Beneath the shift, her breasts tightened, the nipples growing sensitive beneath the fabric. She remembered his mouth upon her breasts and the sensual ache between her legs.

If she turned to him, would he embrace her? They were alone, and she was willing to steal any moment she could to be with him. The flogging had awakened her to the knowledge that life was fleeting. Robert had barely survived that day, and she was so grateful for it.

She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. ‘Robert.'

He stilled instantly. ‘Forgive me. I should not have touched you.'

That wasn't what she'd meant at all. ‘It's all right,' she murmured. A bead of water slid down her bare back, and her breasts ached for his touch. She could feel his silent hunger. His eyes were hooded and dark, his jaw tight with desire. In her own defiance, she straightened, allowing her shift to slide down one shoulder.

When she stared at him, his gaze drifted downward with unmistakable interest. She wanted more, and so did he. At last, they were alone, with no one to interrupt. And yet, he remained hesitant.

‘What are you thinking?' she murmured.

‘A thousand things.' His voice was hoarse, as if he were holding himself back. She wanted to break through the invisible wall between them and coax him out of his tight control until he was in her arms. ‘Things I want to do. Things I shouldn't do.'

Morwenna reached out to his shoulders, wanting his hands and mouth upon her. For so long, she'd dreamed of being with this man. She wanted him desperately, needing his touch. And yet, they both knew the consequences.

‘It's all right,' she whispered, praying he would simply close the distance. Right now, she didn't want to think of all the reasons it was wrong.

But Robert set down the damp cloth. ‘You're wrong, Morwenna. It would be taking advantage of you. I won't do that.'

She rose up on her knees, not caring that her shift was falling forward. His gaze turned heated again, and she reached to cup his face. With her hand, she smoothed the edge of his jaw. ‘Stop talking, Robert, and kiss me.'

Against her lips his voice was rough. ‘If I do, I won't stop.'

‘Then don't.' She leaned in close, and he responded by claiming her mouth with his own. He threaded his hands in her hair, and his tongue slid against hers. A raw need coursed through her, and she desperately wanted to seize this stolen moment. He kissed her as if he couldn't get enough, his mouth claiming hers. She yielded to him, even though a part of her knew it couldn't last.

‘Morwenna, I don't think—'

‘You're right,' she answered. ‘Don't think at all.' She drew his mouth back to hers and slid her hands beneath his tunic. His pectoral muscles were like iron, ridged with strength. She explored his body, learning the lines of his stomach and chest.

His kiss grew hotter, wicked in intensity. She clung to him, surrendering to the needs rising. When his mouth drifted to her throat, sensations erupted over her skin. She couldn't stop the moan that broke forth as his lips moved lower. She wanted his mouth on her breast, his hands everywhere.

She'd dreamed of his moment, of lying in his arms while he pressed her down. Morwenna pushed away the thought of him leaving, unable to think of a future when he wasn't hers. Instead, she would indulge in her own fantasies, making a memory that would have to last.

He paused and rested his hands at her waist. She met his gaze, waiting for more. And yet he held steady, watching her. With his hands, he moved her shift to her waist, baring her to the cool night air. Her nipples puckered, and he never took his eyes off her as he slid his fingers down her skin. His knuckles grazed against the cockled tips, and a spearing warmth flooded between her legs.

He sat down and pulled her hips forward, dragging her to his lap. The position brought her body against his hard length, and she was shaken by the fierce desire building higher. He rocked against her, and her breath caught, her hands gripping his shoulders. He held her waist, moving against her. Her mind filled in the missing pieces, and she imagined him sliding deep inside, joining with her. The thought was both erotic and frightening.

If she allowed him to claim her innocence, it would only hurt more when he left her. And then, there was the risk of conceiving a child. God help her, the thought of growing round with his baby was bittersweet. Every time she looked into the eyes of her infant, she would remember Robert.

The thought nearly broke her heart. It made her realise that she had already accepted the loss of him, of being left alone. She wasn't his equal, and her mind warned her not to dream of what could never happen.

And yet...another part of her wasn't so certain. She loved this man, but was it worth fighting for him? Could she ever win his heart?

It was a different sort of battle, and during the past two years, she'd told herself she could never succeed. But then again, she'd never tried to make him love her. Was that even possible?

He kissed her again, and she felt the ridge of him caressing her intimately with only a layer of fabric between them. She grew wet and feverish, and his tongue echoed her deepest desire, sliding in deep and withdrawing. More than anything, she wanted him inside her.

‘You take my breath away,' he said against her lips. With his hands he cupped her breasts, circling the nipples with his thumbs.

She could scarcely breathe, her lungs seizing up as the sensations rippled through her. He took one breast in his mouth, and suddenly, she felt a deep shimmer blooming inside. She trembled with his touch, and when his hard length swelled between her legs, the sensation kindled a fierce response. She moved against him, wishing he would unfasten his trews and claim her.

But her body took command, and although Morwenna didn't know what to do, she surrendered to her instincts. She found her own rhythm, rubbing herself against his erection. She was quaking, her body coming apart in his arms until a shattering wave of pleasure broke over her. She could do nothing except cling to him while she arched against him, her body enraptured by the shimmering sensation.

She gripped his head against her breast, rocking against him. Then, she reached down between their bodies, needing to touch him. The moment her hand touched his trews, he inhaled sharply. Gently, she stroked him through the layer of cloth, learning the length of him. She stroked a few times, and he shuddered, uttering a dark cry as he lost his own control.

For a moment, neither could speak. She could only rest with her legs straddling him. Her body had gone pliant, and his eyes stared into hers. He held her hips, his hand stroking her backside.

I am going to fight for this man , she vowed silently. There has to be a way.

Robert didn't know if there were any words he could say. Although they were both still virgins, he'd been spellbound by the power of pleasuring her. He'd never imagined the intensity of how it would feel to touch Morwenna. She had given him a glimpse of what lovemaking could be like, and the magnitude of it had shaken him to the core.

He had to tread carefully, for the very sight of this woman made him want to lay her down and spend the rest of the night learning what pleased her. It had been an awakening he'd never imagined, even though his future held nothing but uncertainty.

He was about to kiss her again when he heard horses approaching. It was not the sound of travellers, but instead the rhythmic pounding of someone in pursuit.

‘Are they looking for us?' Morwenna asked, her eyes wide with fear.

‘I don't know.' Quickly, he handed her the monk's habit and donned his own. If it was Lord Penrith's men hunting them, they had only moments to flee. He used dirt to extinguish the fire, plunging them into darkness. ‘We have to leave. Let's go.'

It was likely that their fire had already been noticed in the darkness. They needed to ride hard, to somehow break away from the soldiers and hide.

Morwenna didn't argue, but they readied their horses, and Robert started to lead them up a narrow path, deeper into the woods. It would make it more difficult for the men to follow, not to mention they would have to slow down.

Then abruptly, he realised the soldiers weren't pursuing them at all. He heard the sound of other riders and realised the men had not slowed their pace. They were travelling west towards the clearing. Robert seized Morwenna's reins and drew her horse to a stop. In a low voice he said, ‘They're after someone else. Listen.'

They both paused, and Robert watched as the soldiers rode by with torches. He recognised Lord Penrith's men, and he wondered why they were searching. The only explanation was that they had a different target in mind.

‘Who are they pursuing?' Morwenna whispered.

He had a suspicion but didn't say it. ‘I'm not certain. But we should stay here until it's safe.'

She reached out to take his hand, and he squeezed it. He was fighting against his own instincts to leave, but they were safer here. He continued holding her hand while they waited, but then he heard the sound of a woman's scream.

Morwenna's hand gripped his. ‘Robert, we have to help them.'

Though he understood her sympathy, he had no intention of endangering her. ‘It's not safe.'

‘But what if it's Lady Gwendoline? That sounded like her voice. And why else would she be running away unless she's with Piers?'

He knew she was right, but he hated the thought of risking her safety. ‘We need to know for certain if it's them. We'll move in closer. Are you armed?'

‘Not really. I have a knife but no sword.'

They were at a disadvantage, and he added, ‘If I get a sword from one of the soldiers, can you guard my back?'

‘Yes.' She didn't hesitate in her answer.

‘We won't do anything until we're sure it's them,' he insisted. ‘And then we need to know how many soldiers are in pursuit,' he warned. ‘Follow me, and we'll try to catch up to them.'

He redirected their path towards the soldiers. As they rode, he questioned the wisdom of getting involved. Neither he nor Morwenna were fully healed. And yet, she had no hesitation about fighting for Piers or Gwendoline.

They continued towards the edge of the forest. In the clearing, they saw two people on horseback, pursued by the soldiers. The moon was bright, and it reflected against the silvery ribbon of a stream. Robert nodded towards the right. ‘If we go over those hills, we can catch up to them and flank the soldiers.'

She agreed, and they remained within the trees but turned right to go uphill. There was a narrow path leading higher, and Robert kept the horses on the trail until they reached the top. From their vantage point, he could see that the soldiers were closing in. The light of the torches made it evident that it was indeed his brother and the lady.

‘Are you ready to fight?' he asked Morwenna.

‘I am.'

He started urging his horse downhill, his mind forming a plan. He and Piers could fight off the soldiers while Morwenna protected Gwendoline. If the soldiers outnumbered them, he trusted Morwenna to guard his back. Though he didn't truly want her fighting, if she could hold a shield and a weapon, it would be enough.

He'd counted nine soldiers. It was a risk to fight them, but Morwenna was right. They couldn't abandon Piers and Gwendoline—not after his brother had saved his life the first time. If the pair of them had fled together, then the earl must have refused the match. But did Gwendoline know the truth about Piers? He wasn't so certain.

‘I'm going to go after one of the soldiers in the back and get his weapon,' he told Morwenna. ‘Stay back with the horses, and I'll toss it to you.'

He dismounted, but before he could go, Morwenna suddenly caught his arm. She took his face between her hands and kissed him. ‘Be safe and come back to me.'

The kiss caught him unawares, but it strengthened his resolve. ‘I will.' It would be dangerous, aye, but he intended to guard his brother without any of them being harmed.

The soldiers had closed in on Piers and Gwendoline. The lady dismounted and took her bow and a quiver of arrows, along with a small bundle. Then she started to move in front of Piers, as if she could shield him, but he pressed her behind him.

Robert kept moving closer and saw one of the soldiers standing slightly apart from the others. He crept up behind the man, covered his mouth, and slit his throat. Then he let the soldier sink to the ground. Silently, Robert disarmed the man and crept back to the edge of the woods where he left the weapon for Morwenna.

It was then that the other men realised the attack and sounded an alarm. During the distraction, Piers ordered Gwendoline, ‘Run!' She took off, fleeing towards the trees.

Robert unsheathed his sword and attacked from the opposite side. He swung the blade at a second soldier and struck him down.

Piers had his own weapon in hand, and they fought back-to-back. ‘Good timing, Brother,' he muttered.

‘I owed you a favour.'

The soldiers were well trained, and Robert's arm reverberated beneath a solid blow. Although Piers cut down his own opponent, they were still outnumbered. Two more joined in, but Robert fell into a pattern of fighting with his brother. Their movements matched, and time seemed to blur.

But then he saw two of the men breaking away and running towards the woods. Undoubtedly, they would try to take the women hostage.

‘Piers,' he warned, just as his sword pierced his opponent's throat.

‘I see them.' But there wasn't time to reach the soldiers, since they had the last three men circling them. ‘We have to hurry.'

Robert swung his sword hard, twisting as he dodged a blow and raised his shield. He lunged at the first man and blocked a strike as the second opponent swung at his head. The two of them pressed the advantage, and he found himself fighting for his life as both soldiers attacked.

The other two men had nearly reached the edge of the woods. Although Morwenna was armed, he didn't know if she could defend Gwendoline against two of them.

But then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the soldiers drop to the ground, an arrow buried in his heart. Gwendoline must have shot him.

But her second arrow missed the other man.

Piers defeated his attacker and swung his shield, striking one of the other men in the forehead. The soldier stumbled, and Robert slashed him down, killing him instantly.

‘Go after the women,' he ordered. ‘Take the horse.'

Piers swung up on his mount and thundered towards the woods. He had his sword in hand while Robert cut down his last opponent. He took another horse and rode hard, the fear coursing through his veins. If they didn't get there in time...

Piers reached the forest first, and Robert saw the last soldier raise his sword just before Morwenna stabbed him in the heart. Her attacker slid to the ground in front of them, and she stepped back, her hand covered in his blood.

Beside her, Gwendoline held a bow, with an arrow nocked to it. Robert ran hard towards the women, and when he reached them, he crushed Morwenna into his arms. ‘Are you all right?'

She nodded, holding him close. ‘Are they all dead?'

‘They are. But we can't stay here. There could be more.'

Gwendoline was already in Piers's embrace, and Robert turned to his half-brother. ‘What happened? Why were you running away?'

‘My father was trying to stop us from getting married,' Lady Gwendoline confessed. ‘He sent soldiers to bring me back and kill Piers.' Then she turned to Morwenna. ‘I am so sorry I could not free you when you were his prisoner. He locked me away in my room, and I had no idea that he had you flogged.' Her expression grew pained. ‘I blame myself for it.'

‘You couldn't have stopped him,' Morwenna answered. She turned back to Robert and said, ‘We cannot stay out here in the open. We need to find shelter.'

‘It will be dawn soon,' he said. ‘But we're not far from Stansbury.' It was the ruined fortress where they had stayed last year. Though it was far from comfortable, at least they could rest for a few hours before they continued their journey.

‘I agree,' Piers said. He was studying Gwendoline and added, ‘Good shooting. I'm glad you brought your bow.'

‘Thank you,' she responded. ‘I just...never thought I would have to shoot a man.'

‘I'm glad you did,' Piers answered. He put his arm around her waist in silent comfort. To Morwenna, he added, ‘And I'm glad you knew how to fight with a sword. Even if you never liked it.' He sent her a wry smile, for he'd known the reason why she'd sparred.

They mounted their horses and Robert led them southwest, towards Stansbury, where they had lived in hiding during the past two years. The familiar crumbling walls held bittersweet memories.

As they entered the ruins, he felt a sense of regret. Nine men had died because of the earl's insistence on stopping his daughter from marrying the man she wanted. Even if Piers did succeed in marrying Gwendoline, Robert sensed that the fight wasn't over.

His half-brother came to ride beside him while the women remained behind, talking in low voices. ‘It seems we're even now.'

‘We are,' Robert agreed. With a glance behind him, he asked, ‘Does she know?'

His brother shook his head, his gaze fixed ahead. The lie of omission would cause a strong rift between them, if Gwendoline found out Piers was a bastard.

‘It's a mistake not to tell her,' he warned, even knowing that Piers wouldn't listen. But he had no intention of interfering between them. Whatever choices his brother made, he had to live with the consequences.

Piers only shrugged. ‘I'm going to find a priest and wed her. The sooner it's done, the better.'

But Robert wasn't so certain marrying the earl's daughter would help him achieve his goals—it might end them entirely.

‘What of you and Morwenna?' Piers asked. ‘Will you wed her too?'

The thought sent a rush of warmth within him. To awaken beside Morwenna each day, to live his life with her, evoked an ache of longing he'd never expected.

But he thought again of the men from Penrith and their pleas for help. He'd already accepted that he would not wed Gwendoline, but it meant that he would have to take Penrith by conquest. And the only way to do that was to appeal to the king.

It was quite possible—probable even—that King John would refuse to support his claim to the land. But if the king somehow agreed, he would want something in return. Robert suspected he'd have to wed an heiress of the king's choosing—especially if that meant John would gain the gold he needed to fight his wars in France.

‘We will witness your wedding,' he promised his brother. ‘It's too soon for me to wed.'

‘You haven't given up on Penrith yet, have you?' Piers said quietly.

Robert shook his head. His brother stared at him in silence, and it was clear that their own battle for the lands was yet to come.

They rode for nearly two hours before they reached Stansbury. By then, it was dawn and Morwenna was exhausted. Gwendoline had turned pensive, for Piers had left to find a priest. She started braiding her hair, tucking it up as best she could.

‘Do you want me to help?' Morwenna asked.

‘Please.' Gwendoline ventured a smile. ‘It's not the sort of wedding I imagined it would be.'

‘What did you imagine?' she asked, while she took a comb and began pulling it through Gwen's tangled hair.

‘When I was a little girl, I thought my mother would help me choose a gown. She would give me her jewels to wear and flowers to put in my hair.' Gwendoline's mood turned sad. ‘She died a few years ago. I miss her terribly.'

Her eyes welled up with tears and she turned to Morwenna. ‘Am I doing the right thing? Should I marry Piers?'

Morwenna paused and studied her. ‘You haven't known him long. If you're uncertain, it's not surprising. You could ask him to wait.'

‘I've never even met his family,' she said. ‘He told me his father died two years ago.'

Morwenna nodded. She wasn't certain how much Gwendoline knew, but she was torn between warning the woman and betraying Piers. Regardless of what Robert believed, she did think that Piers cared for Gwendoline. She'd caught him stealing glances at her, and his expression had held a sort of reverence—as if he couldn't believe this beautiful woman could be his.

Although Gwendoline deserved to know the truth, Morwenna didn't want to be the cause of a rift between them. The young woman was good for Piers. Already she had softened his anger and brought out the better side of him.

But was it right to enter a marriage based on a lie? And even then, what right did she have to interfere? It bothered Morwenna that she was caught in such a position, between truth and lies. The only solution she could see was to tell Gwen the truths she wanted to hear and not offer anything else.

‘Only you can make the decision on whether to wed Piers,' Morwenna said at last. ‘Don't listen to what others say or even what he tells you. Listen to your heart and how he makes you feel.'

At that, Gwen smiled. ‘Then I know the answer. It won't be easy, and we've made an enemy of my father. But I do want to marry Piers. He needs me.' She turned to face Morwenna. ‘But what of you and Robert?'

The question caught Morwenna off-guard, though she already knew the answer. ‘Robert cares for me, but he cannot marry a miller's daughter, Lady Gwendoline. He is the rightful heir to Penrith.'

‘So that's why he wanted to court me,' Gwen said quietly. ‘Like the others, he only wanted Penrith.' With a soft smile, she added, ‘But I could see that he only had eyes for you.'

Morwenna released a sigh, remembering Robert's gaze as he'd touched her. Even now, a flush of warmth flooded through her at the memory of his mouth upon her skin.

‘It doesn't matter,' she insisted. ‘Despite what we might feel for one another, I know my place. I only have this time with him now. Once we meet with the king...' She shook her head, for it would be over.

‘Do you really believe that?' Gwen asked softly, reaching for the golden chain Morwenna wore. ‘Especially when you have a necklace that once belonged to the queen?'

‘How did you know about the necklace?' Morwenna asked.

‘I overheard my father talking about it.' Gwendoline studied it a moment and then said, ‘Don't you want to find out more?'

‘I don't know if there are any answers,' she answered honestly. ‘Your father thought it was stolen. I still believe it was a gift, though I don't know why. I hope to find out when Robert petitions the king.'

Gwendoline sobered at that. ‘So, he intends to reclaim Penrith and have my father sent away.'

Her face tightened, and Morwenna wished she had not told her about their plans to appeal to the king. But she softened her voice and reminded her, ‘It was always his home. Your father can return to his own estate.'

There was a sudden glimpse of worry on the young woman's face before she hid it. ‘I suppose I will have to go with Piers to his family's lands, is that it?'

Guilt washed over Morwenna at the knowledge that they might have nowhere to go until Robert reclaimed Penrith. All she could tell the young woman was, ‘You should talk with Piers about his plans.' Yet, a part of her sided with Piers. She knew what it was to be born with nothing and dream of a better life. What right did she have to ruin his happiness?

‘He hasn't told me of his plans,' Gwendoline said. ‘But I thought we would eventually return to Penrith.' She straightened one of her sleeves, her expression pensive. ‘I just don't know what will happen now.'

Morwenna didn't know how to answer her. She knew it was wrong not to tell Gwendoline the truth, especially since the woman had been kind to her. ‘You do have a choice. If you want to wait to wed Piers, you can. You need not marry this day if you wish.'

The young woman hesitated. ‘I know you're right. But after everything that's happened, after all we've been through, I don't think there is any other man who would make me feel the way Piers does.' She took a breath. ‘I will wed him. I believe that he loves me, even though he's never said it.'

Morwenna reached for the woman's hand, hoping she was right.

It was dark outside by the time Piers returned with the priest. The old man was unlike any priest Morwenna had ever seen. He appeared completely and utterly drunk. He was holding a drinking horn, swaying on his feet after he dismounted from his ancient mare. Morwenna had no idea where Piers had found the priest—he could not be from the abbey—but she supposed it was the best he could do at such short notice.

Gwendoline appeared beautiful, even in her rumpled gown. Her face was shining with happiness, and Piers appeared dumbstruck.

Robert came to stand by Morwenna's side while the priest took another drink. ‘Do you think he'll manage to finish the ceremony before he passes out?'

‘I doubt it.' She smiled at him, finding the humour in the circumstances. ‘But I hope they will find happiness together.' That much was the truth, even if she knew Gwendoline would be angry when she learned Piers was only a bastard.

You should have told her , an inner voice warned.

But then, she wanted her friend to marry the man she loved. In her heart, she believed that somehow they would work it out.

The priest began the ceremony, and although the Latin words were familiar, she was caught up in watching Piers and Gwendoline. Robert took her hand, and the gesture nearly broke her. It was almost a mockery of the dream she wanted so badly. She knew it was impossible, and yet...she wanted Robert as her husband and lover. For two years, she had been his friend, learning to fight alongside him, dreaming of him. Her heart ached with yearning, and she wished so badly that she could simply forget what it was like to be touched by Robert.

He wanted her—of that, there was no doubt. But would he ever marry her? Not unless she had a title and an estate of her own.

A tear slid free, and she tried to mask it with a smile, pretending they were tears of joy instead of regret.

The priest stumbled through the words of the marriage rite and gave a blessing afterwards, though he did not offer a Mass. It almost seemed that he was so drunk he believed he had spoken a Mass, but no one corrected him.

Morwenna brought out small flat cakes that she had baked from the grain the monks had given them. There was no honey, but at least they had something to celebrate the wedding.

Robert had caught fish, and he roasted them over a spit. While they cooked, he pulled out a bottle of wine that she was fairly certain Piers had stolen from the cellars at Penrith. Robert poured a generous cup and passed it to his brother. Morwenna retrieved two small drinking horns and another wooden cup, which he filled.

‘I wish you both good health and many children.' Robert raised his drinking horn, and both Piers and Gwendoline raised their own cups. The bride was blushing, and after they drank, Robert offered them some of the fish. They both joined in the feasting and, after a little while, Gwendoline said, ‘I have something for you, Morwenna.'

She didn't know what it was, but the woman withdrew a bundle she'd brought from Penrith. Gwendoline unwrapped it and held out a green gown. ‘This was your mother's, wasn't it? The one you left behind.'

A rush of emotion tightened in her throat, and Morwenna nodded. When she took the gown, her tears returned. ‘Thank you for bringing it back to me.'

‘I knew you'd want it,' Gwendoline said.

Morwenna embraced the woman, so grateful to have the gown. With a slight laugh, she added, ‘I wish you'd given it to me sooner so I wouldn't have worn the monk's habit to your wedding.'

Gwendoline's eyes brightened and she said, ‘I should have, but I was distracted by Piers.' Her new husband came to her side, and it wasn't long before Piers excused them.

‘I suppose we'll have to finish the rest of our feast alone.' Robert refilled her cup and ate another of the flat cakes she'd made. ‘These are good. How did you find the ingredients?'

‘I made them with some grain the monks gave us,' she answered.

They ate together in front of the fire. The sun had set, and Morwenna warmed herself by the crackling flames. Robert sent her a sidelong glance. ‘What do you suppose they're doing right now?'

Her face reddened, and she gaped until she realised he wasn't serious. ‘Going for a walk, I believe.'

‘I don't know,' he teased. ‘They could be playing dice. Or they might go to sleep. I cannot imagine what else they'd be doing.' His mock innocence made her laugh, and it eased the tension she hadn't known was there.

‘Do you want to play dice or go for a walk?' she offered, teasing him back.

Robert lifted an eyebrow as if she'd implied something else. ‘Or I might have another idea.' He stood up from the fire and held out his hand.

She wasn't quite certain what he wanted, but she followed. Robert picked up a torch and led her through the ruins and out towards the stables. For a moment, he paused at the entrance, and then said, ‘Good. I wanted to be certain Piers and Gwendoline weren't inside.'

‘Where did they go?' she wondered aloud.

‘Somewhere far enough from here,' he answered, leading her inside. She wasn't certain if he planned to tend the horses, but he stopped in front of one of the stalls. Morwenna waited to see what he was doing, and then he withdrew a battered piece of wood. She recognised it as the shield he'd given her that she'd left behind in the stables on the day they'd gone to Penrith.

‘I'd nearly forgotten about this shield,' she said.

‘You could have used it earlier today,' he teased. ‘It might have been necessary during the battle, had you brought it with you.'

She picked it up and studied it. In all honesty, she said, ‘Robert, I know you meant well, but this was truly a terrible gift to give a woman.'

‘I thought you wanted to be a warrior,' he said. ‘At the time, at least. You trained all the time.'

‘Because I wanted to be near you,' she admitted. ‘It had nothing to do with fighting.'

‘I didn't realise it then.' He helped her hold the shield, and his nearness heightened the sensitivity of her skin. He was so close, but the shield remained between them. ‘I was blind to it.'

Her hand was trembling, and she lowered the wooden shield. ‘I wasn't what you wanted.'

‘But you are now,' he admitted. He reached out to tuck a lock of her hair behind one ear. ‘You'd better keep that shield between us.'

‘Or what?' she whispered, setting it aside.

In answer, he leaned in for a kiss. This time, it was slower, a savouring of mouths. She opened to him, feeling the sleek invasion of his tongue. He stole her breath, and she kissed him with all the yearning in her heart.

‘Morwenna,' he murmured, sliding his hands into her hair. ‘You're tearing me apart.'

She drew back, uncertain what he meant. At her questioning gaze, he added, ‘I want nothing more than to lay you down and kiss every inch of your skin. And then I want to be inside you.'

She reached out to touch his cheek. He kissed the palm of her hand. ‘But you're hurt. And it's not fair to ask this of you.'

She understood that it was both a reason and an excuse not to touch her. Becoming lovers would make matters more complicated.

And yet, she wasn't willing to let him go. Not yet. This might be her last chance to claim the man she wanted. Once they reached the king, everything would change.

‘Will you light a fire for us?' she asked. ‘It's cold.' In the darkness, she could hardly see him at all. And this night, she wanted more than shadows.

He built a small hearth with stones and wood. Then he used flint and straw tinder, to strike a flame. He fed the fire until there was a comfortable blaze. While he was preoccupied, she removed the monk's habit and her shift until she stood naked before him.

His gaze turned hot, his eyes greedy as he studied her. ‘I've never seen anyone more beautiful in my life.'

She turned slightly, revealing her back. ‘But not this.'

‘Those are the marks of bravery and courage,' he said. ‘And the wounds are healing well.'

She faced him and said quietly, ‘I want to see you, Robert.'

He stood slowly and removed the monk's cowl and habit, baring himself. His body was more heavily muscled than she'd imagined, with ridges along his stomach and chest. Below his waist, his erection hung straight and firm. She remembered how she had pleasured him by her touch. And she wanted to slide her palm over him intimately.

She drew close to him, but shyness suddenly overcame her.

‘Morwenna, you don't have to do this.' He took both her hands, and the warmth of his palms was a contrast against her own cold fingers. ‘We don't know what will happen when we find your true family. They might try to arrange a marriage for you.'

She understood his unspoken words, that offering her virginity to him might have strong consequences. And yet, there was no one else for her.

‘You're the only man I've ever wanted,' she whispered. ‘There will never be another for me.'

‘I don't know what the future holds,' he admitted. Which was another reminder that he could never marry her.

‘I know that I want you,' she murmured. ‘There's not much time left. We should make the most of it.'

‘If I touch you, I won't stop,' he swore. ‘I don't trust myself right now. I might hurt you, and I can't allow that.'

It was his honour, she realised. In his expression, she could see the intensity of desire that mirrored her own. He was trying to keep her a virgin as a means of protecting her. Neither of them had taken a lover before, and they had only touched each other.

She released his hands and stared at him. His body was beautiful, and she ached to run her hands over his skin. ‘What would you do if you could touch me?'

He exhaled sharply. ‘I would kneel before you and cup your breasts.'

She stared at him, never taking her eyes from his face as she reached down to cup her own breasts. The weight of the flesh was light, and she used her thumb to circle the nipple. ‘Like this?' Instantly, she felt a flare of heat between her thighs. A sigh escaped her, and she closed her eyes at the deep sensation.

‘Yes,' he murmured. ‘Now put one hand between your legs.'

She obeyed, feeling the slickness beneath her fingers. A shuddering warmth flooded through her. Though she didn't know what would happen between them, she didn't want to do this alone.

‘Put your hand upon your own flesh,' she commanded. ‘Imagine that it's my hand, the way I touched you last night.'

He obeyed, and the rigid tension echoed her own tightness. She remembered the feeling of his thick flesh against her, and as she touched herself, she imagined it was him.

‘Put one finger inside you,' Robert commanded. She was startled by his demand, but she did so. Her body welcomed the slight intrusion, and she felt the wetness surrounding her.

‘Now move it in and out,' he ordered. The shaking pleasure started to take hold but once more, she wanted him to experience the same thing. She bit back a moan, and the sight of him gripping himself while she stroked herself intimately was enough to push her towards the edge.

‘I want you to do the same,' she said. ‘Stroke yourself. Let me watch.'

He did, and she was fascinated when his hand curled over the hard length. She started moving her finger to the rhythm of his hand, imagining he was inside her. The wetness intensified, and she arched her back, startled when her fingers bumped against a sensitive place.

‘I would kiss you if I could,' she whispered. ‘And I would lift my leg around your waist and take you inside me.'

His breathing was coming harder, and he stared at her while he worked his length. ‘Put another finger inside yourself,' he ordered. ‘Keep sliding them in and out. I want to know what pleasures you.'

His demand was so erotic, she continued to touch herself. The sensitive place was just above her entrance, and she rubbed it gently.

‘Does that feel good?' he asked. His voice was rough and strained.

‘Yes,' she breathed. ‘When I touch it, I feel as if I'm losing control.' She circled the hooded flesh with one finger, and the rush gathered harder inside her. She was rising higher, her body so close...

And then, without warning, Robert took her nipple in his mouth and replaced her hand with his own. The moment his fingers touched her, she shattered. His hand was gentle, driving her over the edge, and he slid his fingers deep inside. She broke apart again, her body seizing up with pleasure as he plunged and withdrew. She reached for his hard length, her fingers closing over him. She stroked his velvet shaft, her thumb caressing the edge, and he groaned.

As she'd promised, she raised her leg over his hip, and he shocked her by lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around him, and his thick erection poised at her entrance.

‘Are you certain?' he asked.

‘Don't stop.' Her body felt alive, quaking with fire and she welcomed him inside. Though it was not an easy fit, she moaned as he pulled her down, invading her flesh and claiming her virginity.

Her bare breasts pressed against his chest, and he enveloped her in his arms. She could feel his manhood deep inside, and she cradled his face, welcoming him into her body. There had been a sudden pinch, and she felt the soreness, but he didn't move. Not yet.

Instead, he held her waist, careful of her back. She was self-conscious about the weight of her body, but he lifted her slightly and penetrated again. Once more, the flare of heat rekindled. He was gentle, holding her hips as he thrust inside. And she forgot everything else when he kissed her. His tongue moved against hers as he made love to her, and she squeezed his length.

‘God above, you feel good,' he growled. ‘I don't know if I can last much longer.' He moved back against the horse stall and leaned against the wood, holding her as he started to move in rhythm. She surrendered to him, the feelings rising higher.

He bent down to suckle at her breast, and she let out a cry, her body growing even wetter. ‘I'm sorry,' he groaned against her skin. ‘I can't stop.'

He gripped her hips and hastened the rhythm, lifting her and thrusting deep. Although she was sore, she no longer cared. She locked her legs around him, arching as he took her. Another release gathered inside, and she shuddered as it erupted. He plunged and withdrew until he groaned and spilled himself within her body.

Morwenna clung to him, unable to speak or even form a coherent thought. With their bodies still joined, Robert slid down from the wall until he turned to lie on the ground, with her collapsed atop him. She never wanted to move again.