Fire Raven (43 page)

Kat nodded. “I vow nobody bothered to explain the intricacies of marriage or the agonies of the childbed, or took time to comfort Elena in her travail. Mayhap by the moment of your birth, she was so distraught she did not reason. Any imperfection in her child, however slight, was probably enough to shatter poor Elena’s fractured mind.

“Your mother was alone, Morgan. In heart and soul and body. ’Tis not so with you.” Kat reached up and caressed his face, ignoring the flinch she realized stemmed from years of uncertainty and shame. “I would be your wife in every sense of the word. You need never be alone again.”

Morgan gazed into her beautiful green eyes, serene as the surface of a lake, and felt a corresponding ache deep in his chest. Aye, he wanted more than anything to claim Kat as forever his, to brand her lips with desire and fill her sweet loins with his passion each night, but he knew he dared not dream the dreams of an ordinary man.

“Rory.” It was hard for Morgan to say the name, much less imagine the handsome Irishman who once held Kat in his arms. His voice wavered with emotion, and not a little worry.

Kat reached up and smoothed his troubled brow. “Rory is gone, my love. He forgave us both, and freed my heart to love again, without reserve.” Her gentle smile dazzled Morgan, and his heart leaped in his chest.
’Tis too late for Elena, not so for you
. The unbidden thought startled him.

As if reading his mind, Kat unhooked her bodice and shrugged off the flame-colored silk. Firelight revealed curves lush with promise and painted her ivory breasts with flickers of gold. Morgan trembled with anticipation at the vision of his bride. Her gown slithered to the carpet in invitation, followed by her stays and petticoats.

Soon Kat was naked in his arms, drawing his head down to hers. He moaned under the fierce desperation of her kisses, marveling at the texture of her hair and letting it shower over his hands like raven-colored silk. He caressed the faint swell of her belly, ripe with his seed.

Sweet Jesu. How long he had craved this moment, dreaming of Kat and cursing his haunted nights and empty days. This woman held a power over him he neither understood nor denied; it was impossible to refuse the succor she offered him now.

“Whenever you ache within, thus shall I comfort you,” Kat whispered, rising on tiptoe to kiss him again. “Whenever you grieve in spirit, I vow I shall solace you. If ever you need my body, I will come to you with a glad heart and stay with you until ease is found, but only through my love.”

Morgan’s embrace tightened around her. He buried his face in her flowing hair. “Don’t ever leave me again,” he said fiercely.

She agreed.

His heart cried:
At last, at last!
His lonely vigil had ended; he sensed the curtain falling on a nightmare of nearly three decades. He was awash in a sea of powerful emotions — joy, fear, passion, aye, even grief for the wretch he had been, bereft of hope or dignity.

Never again would he return to the darkness of yesteryear. Only the light existed now. Only the blessed light in Kat’s green eyes.

Chapter Twenty-two

K
AT FINISHED READING THE
missive and paled. Concerned, Morgan rose from his fireside chair and went to her.

“What is it,
cariad
?”

“Here.” She pushed the paper at him. Her eyes closed as he read the words aloud.

“… regret to inform you neither Merry nor Jem, the family coachman, arrived at Ambergate as scheduled. Rest assured, I have made every inquiry into the matter. Even now the queen considers dispatching a brace of men to scour the countryside …”

Morgan quickly scanned the rest of the letter from Sir Christopher. He frowned. “Mayhap Merry and her escort were waylaid by bad weather, as I was.”

“Or brigands. Oh, Morgan, I cannot rest till I know the truth.”

He understood his wife’s fear. “I’ll ride out at once with our own men. We’ll leave no stone unturned.”

“I would go with you.”

“Nay, Kat. ’Tis best you stay here in your condition.”

Kat sighed and nodded. She reached up to touch his face with her hand. “Be careful, my love.”

Less than an hour later, Morgan and a dozen men left Falcon’s Lair in search of Merry Tanner. Lloyd Carey went along, as did Evan Howell. To Morgan’s surprise, some of the men from the village showed up on the road and volunteered to go along on the search for his sister-in-law. So had his staff spread the word hither and yon, across hill and dale. For once, Morgan was pleased Mrs. Carey was such a well-meaning gossip.

From the window in her bedchamber, Kat watched Morgan and his men depart. She fought off a sudden chill, a premonition of sorts concerning her twin. She closed her eyes and leaned against the window casing. She sensed Merry was not dead. But she also knew her sister was in some sort of danger. Mayhap the raven amulet would protect Merry. She was glad she had forced Merry to take it before she left.

Winnie entered the room. “La, you’ll catch your death of cold standing there, milady.” She hastily moved to shut and latch the window. “Come over to the fire. You must take proper care, now that there’s the wee one coming.”

Kat smiled and allowed Winnie to settle her in a comfortable chair with a woolen throw. “I’m worried about Merry,” she confessed to the housekeeper. “’T’isn’t like her to be late for anything. I know how anxious she was to return to London and meet her intended, Sir Wickham.”

Winnie paused at the door. “I’m sure she’s all right. She seems a hardy girl.”

“Strong-willed, perhaps, but Merry’s not known for her common sense.” Kat sighed, extending her chilled hands to the crackling blaze. “Merry has a sharp tongue, y’know. It has been known to get her in trouble from time to time.”

“Fancy that,” Winnie tartly remarked, remembering how Mistress Merry had marched around Falcon’s Lair, snapping endless orders at the staff. She much preferred Lady Katherine. The realization surprised her. Winnie looked with new respect upon the Master’s young wife.

Kat sensed the woman’s thoughtful regard and glanced over at Winnie, her own gaze equally warm. “I missed you when I was in London.”

“Did you, now?” Winnie inquired. “I’d have thought, with all those fancy affairs at Court, you would be bored here.”

Kat shook her head. “Falcon’s Lair is home to me now. Here with Morgan and all of you.” She paused, studying Winnie a trifle anxiously. “Is it possible for us to be friends again?”

Winnie smiled. “Methinks we already are, dear.”

M
ORGAN WHEELED HIS PRANCING
roan about and studied the myriad of tracks in the mud. “This way.” He motioned to his men, and they quickly followed his lead northeast.

They rode at a hard gallop, racing the sun and an unknown enemy. Morgan had ascertained that the Tanner coach had been driven from its course by a party of four, and his immediate thought was the same as Kat’s: brigands.

God’s teeth! Once the rogues discovered Merry Tanner was unchaperoned but for an elderly driver, there was bound to be trouble. Knowing Merry, the vain little dolt was clad, head to toe, in Court frippery for her journey. She probably sported a display of valuable jewelry, beside.

Morgan gritted his teeth and dug his heels into the roan. The horse extended its neck for more speed. The horses splashed noisily through huge mud puddles left by the recent rains.

Suddenly, they came upon the coach. It was rocked up on one side, half-buried in the muck. Morgan drew his lathered animal to a sliding stop in the ankle-deep mud and vaulted from the saddle. His men followed suit.

Lloyd Carey arrived, puffing at his side. “What d’you think happened, milord?”

“Trouble,” Morgan succinctly said. He poked his head inside the empty coach, emerging from it with an ominous shake. “No sign of the driver or Mistress Tanner. Most likely the work of brigands.”

“Or cutthroats,” Lloyd gravely rejoined, accompanying Morgan and the others in a brief, fruitless search of the surrounding area. An hour later, they were no closer to having answers than before.

Young Evan joined his master. “What do you think happened to them?”

“We may never know, Evan.” Morgan massaged his aching temples. Another storm was coming in. He dreaded the news he must impart to his worried wife. Just then, he glimpsed a tiny bit of color on the ground. The bulk of it lay battered by hoof prints into the mud.

Morgan bent to retrieve it — A blue silk kerchief unfurled in his hand, fluttering gaily in the wind. Daintily stitched in one corner were two initials:
G.L.
Morgan thoughtfully regarded the embroidered initials.

“What did you find, milord?” Evan eagerly asked.

Morgan was silent a moment. He tucked the kerchief into his jerkin pocket beneath his cloak.

“It remains to be seen, Evan,” he said, with a glance at the roiling sky above them. “Pray God ’tis a clue.”

Epilogue

L
ADY
T
RELANE DASHED PAST
the great hearth with its crackling Yule log. She rounded a corner and peeked back at her pursuer from the other side.

“Come here, wife!” Morgan ordered, lunging after the flying red taffeta with a growl. Laughing, Kat wheeled in the reverse direction, darted through the kitchen, and bowled directly into Morgan on the other side. He had taken a secret short cut to intercept her. His arms closed around her in triumph. She squealed in mock protest as he rained kisses all over her neck and face.

“There, there, and there.” He planted kisses on her forehead, nose, and lips with satisfaction. Kat smiled saucily up at her husband. A second later her expression transformed to one of shock.

“What’s wrong,
Faeilean
?”

Morgan followed her gaze. He noticed her skirts and his boots were soaked.

“Winnie!” he bellowed.

The housekeeper hurried into the room. “Milord?”

“Lady Katherine’s water just broke. We’d best hurry.”

Both ignored Kat’s protests that she was fine. So did everyone else in the household.

Panic broke loose. It was nigh three decades since a babe had been born at Falcon’s Lair. Servants rushed to and fro, crashing into each other in the halls. Evan ran outside to find Ailis. Huffing and puffing and muttering, as she was herded back into her domain, Cook snapped at Evan to help her heft a cauldron full of water over the hearth. Lloyd Carey stepped into the midst of the confusion and was immediately enlisted to find more wood.

In the midst of the chaos, Kat stood and chuckled. Morgan suddenly swung her up in his arms and marched upstairs. She beat her fists upon his crimson velvet doublet.

“Put me down, you blackguard! I’m not some broodmare who must be tied down in her travail.”

Morgan lowered her gently onto their bed. “Nay, but you are precious to me, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Despite her ire, Kat smiled at the love shining in her husband’s dark eyes. She kissed the fingers cradling her shoulder. She sensed the worry underlying Morgan’s words.

“Tanner women are strong, milord,” she assured him. A moment later Kat sobered. She thought of Merry again, of the weeks, now months, that had passed since her twin’s disappearance. There had been no word of Merry’s fate. Yet there was no proof she was dead, either.