A Stranger's Touch (20 page)

‘I love you, my dearest one,’ she said. ‘I need a little time to recover, but then I would have another child. A daughter next time. I shall call her May after your sister.’

‘Jacques has asked my permission to speak to her about marriage. Do you think she will take him?’

‘I am certain of it,’ Morwenna said. ‘We shall be a true family. Rupert …’ She hesitated, then, ‘I am sorry that your mother died.’

‘At least she had made her peace with me. I think she might have learned to know and love
you, dearest, had she lived. I regret her death in such a manner, but I know she could not have lived long. We shall mourn her for a time and then we’ll celebrate the wedding of your brother to my sister.’

‘You are happy that they will wed?’

‘Of course, dear heart. I am fond of Jacques. He has worked well here and I am thinking of giving them the estate as a wedding gift.’

‘Oh.’ A little frown touched her brow. ‘Where shall we live—not at the castle?’

‘The tower has burned down. I have decided not to replace it—and we shall not live there. I have already picked a favourable spot elsewhere on my estate. I shall set architects to work and a master builder; they will build us a fine manor house.’

‘I think I should like that,’ Morwenna said. ‘I love this house and something like it would be a real home for us.’

‘The castle was old when my father bought it. In winter we may be able to see its towers through the wood that separates it from our new house, but in summer we shall hardly know it is there. I intend to strip it of anything of value and let the walls crumble.’

‘In time it will become a mysterious ruin and
tantalise our descendants as they puzzle over the people who once lived there.’

‘Yes, I dare say they will wonder why it became a ruin,’ Rupert said. ‘Now, I should leave you to sleep, my love, for you are tired.’

‘And you, too, should rest. Ask the physician to tend your hurts, Rupert. I am sure those burns must pain you.’

‘It is a pain I can bear,’ he said and leaned forwards to kiss her softly once more. ‘But I shall let him ease me if he can.’

Morwenna nodded, snuggling down into her feather mattress. Her eyelids were heavy and she could feel herself drifting away.

‘S
o, what do you think of your new home, my love?’

They had stopped the travelling coach beyond the entrance to the park and walked over the rise together to see the house from a vantage point. It was high summer and more than three years since the building was begun. Until this moment they had lived in their fine house in London, visiting Jacques and May at Melford Hall for several weeks in summer and at Christmas. They had also spent some time travelling in France and Italy. Now at last their house was ready for them.

‘Oh, Rupert.’ Morwenna caught her breath. The stones of mellow Cotswold stone were golden in the sunlight, the long windows reflecting
the light in tiny leaded panes. The house was larger than Melford Hall, but not huge and rambling, of modern design in the shape of an E with a main building and three wings built around courtyards. ‘It is beautiful. I can hardly believe we are to live in such a lovely house.’

‘I should not dream of giving my wife anything less. It is a fitting place to bring up our sons do you not think so, my love?’

‘Yes, Rupert, I do,’ she breathed, her lovely face alight with happiness. ‘And, if I have my wish this time, our daughter.’

She placed her hands against her slightly rounded stomach. This would be their third child and the last birth had been much easier than the first, perhaps because Rupert had been with her all the time.

Rupert laughed, reached out and pulled her closer.

‘If we have another son we can always try again,’ he said and gave her a wicked look. ‘I never tire of trying, dear heart.’

‘No.’ Morwenna laughed, feeling the warmth of the sun on her head as they linked hands and walked down the slope towards their home. ‘Nor I, Rupert. Nor I.’

* * * * *

All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

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First published in Great Britain 2012
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited.
Harlequin (UK) Limited, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road,
Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

© Anne Herries 2012

eISBN: 978-1-408-94395-3