Notorious (30 page)

“I wonder what it will take to make the king's half brother change his loyalties,” Wolf mused.

“I believe I can help you. Thomas Brotherton took quite a fancy to me when we were at Windsor together. Norfolk sought me out for every dance,” she said coyly.

He slanted a black brow. “It is too bad you won't be traveling with me.”

“What the devil do you mean?”

“Our marriage is a secret. Your reputation would be blackened beyond redemption if we rode about in each other's company and sheltered at the same lodging.”

“Wolf Mortimer, you don't honestly believe I am going to sit pining for you at Flamstead while you go off on your adventures?”

“You'll be safer here.”

“I don't want to be safe. Oh, I know! I'll disguise myself.”

“As what?”

“As a boy!”

“How will you disguise these?” He cupped her breasts and kissed her, which effectively put an end to any looming conflict for the rest of the night.

 

At dawn, Wolf arose and let Shadow out for her morning hunt; then he returned to the warm bed.

When Brianna awoke, she opened her eyes to find her new husband propping his head on his hand, gazing at her.

“This is the way I want to awaken every morning for the rest of my life.” Wolf caressed her cheek.

“Then it's settled. When you go to see Norfolk, I'm coming.”

“Dressed as a boy, I suppose. If you think that won't raise eyebrows, you are mistaken, my beauty.”

“I don't give a fiddler's fart for raised eyebrows!”

“Charming language for an innocent bride.”

“Perfectly acceptable for the bride of a notorious Mortimer.”

“Will you never let me have the last word, English?”

“Perhaps, occasionally.”

“Then it's a good thing actions speak louder than words.” He took possession of her mouth, effectively limiting her utterances to breathless whispers.

“I love you, Wolf.”

 

When the newlyweds arrived downstairs, Jory greeted them affectionately. “I would have brought up your breakfast, but I didn't want to disturb you.”

“We appreciate your thoughtfulness, my lady,” Wolf declared.

“Oh, please, none of this
my lady
business. You must call me Jory, as Rickard does. Brianna, your father and I have discussed it and we think we should return to Warwick and let you two have your privacy.”

“Please don't change your plans on our account. I'm sure Brianna enjoys being with her family.”

“Perhaps, but not at the expense of her privacy with her new husband. We usually spend Christmas at Warwick Castle with our people, and though Guy Thomas is perfectly capable of looking after things in his father's absence, I'm sure he would appreciate it if we returned to Warwick for the Yule.”

Brianna's eyes sparkled as she smiled at her mother. “Thank you. I will love playing chatelaine at Flamstead.”

Rickard, accompanied by his father, came into the hall and joined the newlyweds for a second breakfast. “What news from Roger?”

“Both my father and the queen are now in Hainault. He has secret alliances with King Charles of France and the Count of Hainault for his invasion. He also has money to hire German mercenaries.”

“He certainly hasn't allowed the moss to gather beneath his feet,” Warwick observed with approval.

“When Roger organizes a military campaign, he does a thorough job, as I learned when we fought in Ireland,” Rickard declared.

Brianna smiled at her brother. “Thank you for bringing Isabelle's letter. I shall answer her today. Will you take the letter for me, Rickard?”

“All the way to Hainault, if you wish it,” he offered.

“Did Isabelle sound happy in her letter?” Jory asked Brianna.

“Immensely happy. I'll let you read it for yourself.”

“Before I came to Flamstead, I spoke with your brother, Lynx de Warenne,” Wolf told Jory. “He warned me that Robert Bruce might take advantage of an invasion by invading England himself. Though there is a signed truce between England and Scotland, the Bruce has broken it before.”

“You can always count on Robert Bruce to do the expedient thing,” Rickard declared cynically.

Jory and Brianna exchanged a quick glance. “Darling, why don't I come up and read your letter now? Perhaps I will write to Isabelle and send it with your reply.”

Upstairs, in the privacy of the bedchamber, Brianna handed her mother Isabelle's letter.

“I've never asked you, but were you and Isabelle instrumental in Roger Mortimer's escape from the Tower?”

“Yes, we both wanted him free, especially after Mortimer of Chirk died. The intrigue and the risk were immensely exciting. Roger seduced Isabelle…They are lovers. At first I was shocked, but she fell head over arse in love for the first time in her life and the virile Mortimer was exactly what she needed.”

“And apparently the Queen of England was exactly what Mortimer needed. Speaking of expedience, your brother is right. Robert Bruce will always do what is expedient for Scotland. If Queen Isabelle could offer him something that he lusts for, he would not invade England.”

“For what does he lust?” Brianna asked bluntly.

“For England to acknowledge him as king of an independent Scotland. I know, and I warrant Isabelle knows in her heart that a war with Scotland can never be won.”

“That is something a female would admit, far more readily than a male. King Edward would never agree to recognize Robert Bruce as King of Scots. I wonder how Roger Mortimer would feel about it. He fought the Bruces both in Scotland and in Ireland.”

“I don't know. Perhaps Isabelle could convince him. I convinced Warwick not to fight the Bruce.”

“Father agreed for love of you,” Brianna pointed out.

Jory smiled her secret smile. “Yes, he did.”

“I will suggest it to Isabelle in my letter,” Brianna declared.

“Since you intend to put treasonable words down on paper, you had better ask Rickard to take it to Hainault and put it directly into the queen's hand.”

“Yes, I had better.” Brianna changed the subject. “Did you know Wolf had a vision that the invasion would be successful? He said that Queen Isabelle would restore all the Mortimer holdings and his father would reward him with his Uncle Chirk's estates.”

“Yes, Wolf assured us their fortunes would be restored.”

“So that's why Father gave his consent!”

“No, Brianna. He withheld his consent until he asked you if you truly loved Wolf Mortimer. Only then did he agree.”

“I am so lucky to have Guy de Beauchamp for my father.”

“As I am lucky to have the Infamous Warwick for my husband.”

After discussing the matter in detail, Brianna and Wolf both replied to the letters they had received, and the following day, Rickard de Beauchamp set out on a secret mission that would take him across the Channel to Hainault.

During the next two days, Wolf accompanied Guy about Flamstead, gleaning all the knowledge he could about breeding horses. It gave him a deeper appreciation of both the animals and the men who worked with them.

Brianna helped her mother pack for her return to Warwick.

“Would you like to keep Mary? I'm sure she would love to stay and mother you, darling.”

“No, I think Mary should enjoy the Yule festivities at Warwick. I don't need a maid…I have Wolf to undress me.”

Jory could see how happy Brianna was and sensed that the pair of lovers had been intimate before they were married. “Take care of each other. The dangers are very real, darling.”

When the earl and countess departed, Brianna and Wolf moved into the master bedchamber because it was more spacious and had a large stone fireplace.

That night, Wolf threw pillows down in front of the roaring fire and pulled Brianna down beside him. “This is the first night we've been alone since we were wed. I intend to make it memorable. Would you like to play Tame the Dragon?”

Brianna threw him a saucy look and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. “I shouldn't…but I shall!”

T
he snow lasted until Christmas and Brianna, Wolf, and Shadow enjoyed long sojourns into Flamstead's woods almost every day. Most often the newlyweds rode Drago and Athena, but sometimes they enjoyed the warmth of the sleigh.

“Happy Christmas, sweetheart.” Wolf caught Brianna beneath the mistletoe they had brought from the woods and hung up only yesterday. With his arms wrapped tightly about his bride, Wolf's kiss was both romantic and sensual. When they heard applause from the horsemen in the hall, they broke apart and laughed.

After breakfast, Brianna distributed the traditional Yule gifts to the household and then she handed Wolf his present. She had put much thought into what to give him. It could not be costly since he had no way to return an ostentatious gift, and the last thing she wanted to do was offend his pride.

When Wolf opened the package, he found a sheepskin saddlecloth, which would prevent his saddle from galling Drago. Brianna had dyed it Mortimer green and embroidered his initials in gold thread across one corner. “Thank you, love. It's such a surprise, though it shouldn't be. Everything you do is thoughtful.”

Brianna was thrilled that he liked her gift, and it was her turn to be surprised when she opened her Christmas present from Wolf. It was a small knife for cutting herbs with a carved jade handle. Its soft leather sheath had a slit so that it could be worn on a belt. “Oh, it is exquisite. You are a magic man!”

That night at the Yule feast, the Flamstead household enjoyed roast boar, goose, and venison, followed by flaming Christmas puddings and washed down by dozens of barrels of homemade cider.

After the meal, Wolf entertained them with a poignant Welsh ballad he had learned as a boy. When he was done, the horsemen banged their wooden goblets on the trestle tables and began to sing Yuletide carols.

At midnight when it was time to retire, Brianna got to her feet and staggered a little.

“You are flown with cider, English. I'm afraid I'll have to carry you.”

She swayed toward him. “A clever ploy on my part, I warrant.”

 

The following day when they arose, they found the snow had melted in the night. They immediately made plans to visit the Earl of Norfolk at his castle of Walton on the River Naze.

Brianna unearthed a trunk that held some garments that had belonged to Guy Thomas when he was a boy, and she quickly appropriated them. When she donned the leather breeks and jacket, Wolf rolled his eyes.

“Judas, you'd tempt a saint.”

“No, I won't. I'll rub dirt on my face.”

Wolf cupped her bum cheeks, pulled her close, and pressed her breasts against his chest. “I wasn't referring to your face.”

They rode the thirty-mile journey in one day to Walton Castle, which directly overlooked the sea. Though the water of the North Sea roiled pewter gray on this winter day, it did not look nearly as ominous as it usually did in this season.

The guard in the barbican tower let the two male riders through the castle gate and when Mortimer was approached by Norfolk's castellan he asked that he and his companion be provided with separate bedchambers.

Brianna had brought a gown and a hairbrush in her saddlebags and she changed into her female clothes the moment she closed her chamber door. She blithely ignored the shocked look on the steward's face as he led her and Wolf Mortimer down to the hall to meet Thomas Brotherton, Earl of Norfolk.

The king's half brother recognized her immediately and got to his feet. “Lady Brianna, welcome to Walton! You've arrived just in time to dine with us.”

Norfolk stared at Wolf. “You look familiar, sir, though I'm not sure we've met.”

Wolf lowered his voice so others would not hear. “I am the son of Roger Mortimer.”

“Ah, that explains it. The resemblance is marked. Forgive me for staring at you both—you seem strange traveling companions.”

“That is easily explained, my lord earl,” Brianna murmured. “My friend, Wolf Mortimer, is here representing his father, and I am here on behalf of my dearest friend, Queen Isabelle.”

Norfolk waved aside the servers to guarantee privacy.

“Rumor has it that you left the Royal Court because of differences with your brother, King Edward,” Wolf began.

“Rumor is correct! His minion stole some of my land, and my
half
brother condoned the theft.”

“Is there a noble breathing who is not sick and tired of Despencer's tyranny?” Wolf asked. “The people of England are suffering oppression under the king's misdeeds. Hugh Despencer's advice has weakened the regime. Your brother Kent has pledged his loyalty and support to Queen Isabelle. My father is gathering an invasion force to dethrone Edward and put his son in his place.”

“So I have heard from my brother.”

“Would you be open to allowing the ships to land on your territory of East Anglia, my lord?” Wolf asked bluntly.

Brianna spoke up quickly. “You could play a vital role, Thomas. Queen Isabelle would reward you generously.”

“You may count on my aid. It must be kept secret, however. If rumors start, I shall deny everything,” Norfolk declared firmly.

“I guarantee it will be kept in strictest confidence, my lord. All the leading barons and bishops are united in this cause. The plan will not be set in motion until every detail is in place and success is a certainty,” Wolf pledged.

Thomas Brotherton nodded. His glance moved between the man and woman before him with speculation. Brianna de Beauchamp was such a desirable female he concluded she must be Mortimer's mistress.

Brianna retired first, but when Wolf climbed the castle stairs he went directly to his own chamber. When he had not joined her after half an hour, it dawned on her that he had no intention of compromising her reputation. She chuckled at his sense of honor, but when she climbed into the lonely bed, she found she could not sleep. After trying for the best part of an hour, she threw back the covers and padded to the window. She stood in awe, watching the waves of the North Sea crash onto the shore.

The force of the sea is so overwhelmingly powerful. It seems to put the problems that beset England into perspective. A weak, tyrannical king and his incubus rule a resentful, yet powerless populace. I hope and pray that Roger Mortimer will sweep in with a force as commanding as the sea and cleanse the realm of the putrefaction that plagues it!

 

Brianna and Wolf returned to Flamstead and spent the month of January enjoying their solitude, getting to know the horses better, learning which mares were pregnant, and trying to discern when they would drop their colts.

Their nights were spent before the fire, talking endlessly, sharing their secrets, and their hopes and dreams. After they made love, they slept spoon-fashion, with Wolf's long body curved about Brianna's, safe in their warm cocoon of love.

At the end of the month, Rickard returned with letters. Queen Isabelle and Mortimer wrote that they were willing to offer Robert Bruce recognition as king of an independent Scotland, in return for a pledge of peace between the two countries.

Wolf replied to his father's letter, telling him that he had secured Thomas of Brotherton's permission to land his ships on the East Anglian coast in the Earl of Norfolk's territory. He also promised his father that he would make a secret journey to Scotland and negotiate with the Bruce.

Brianna wrote to Isabelle:

Wolf wanted to ride to Scotland in February, yet he protested it would be too arduous for Brianna. “It is best if I go alone.”

“It is
not
best,” she vigorously protested. “I
must
come with you. We are husband and wife—we are part of each other—we share everything—our thoughts, our actions, our risks, our lives!”

Reluctantly, Wolf agreed to take her. “But we will go by ship. Edinburgh is almost six hundred miles from here—too far to ride in winter. Perhaps Rickard can arrange us a secret passage on a cargo ship. He has connections with a London merchant.”

“Thank you. You won't regret taking me. I will be invaluable in your negotiations with Robert Bruce.”

“Perhaps you're right. It makes me feel whole and complete knowing we share everything in our lives. I love you, Brianna.”

In the Port of Leith, Scotland, Wolf unloaded Drago and Athena from the hold of the merchant vessel. He and Brianna then rode the four miles to Edinburgh Castle. Though the ride was short, Brianna was glad she was wearing her sable cloak.

By the time they were escorted into the ancient fortilace, Brianna's cheeks were flushed rose pink, both from the brisk air and the thought that she was about to come face-to-face with Robert Bruce, her real father, for the first time in her life. Jory had kept the Bruce in ignorance of her existence and Brianna hugged the secret close.

The chamberlain inquired who they were and what their purpose was. Wolf told him they were envoys from England on a diplomatic mission and they hoped King Robert would give them an audience. The dour Scot sniffed when Wolf offered no names, but he grudgingly accommodated them with a chamber.

Servants came in to plenish the room and light a fire in the grate. Brianna stripped off her riding gloves and held her hands to the blaze. “This castle is a monstrous, barren pile of rock.”

Wolf grinned at her. “Very like some of the castles in Wales.”

“I just hope there are plenty of blankets on the bed.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “I'll keep you warm, sweetheart.”

Brianna washed her hands and face in the cold water provided and changed into her pale green velvet gown. She fastened the heavy gold chain about her neck and allowed the cabochon emerald to lie in the valley between her upthrust breasts.

Wolf removed his leather jac, put on a snowy, linen shirt, and covered it with a black velvet doublet. His gaze swept over his wife. “Your jewel draws the eye irresistibly to your breasts.”

“'Tis the only jewel I brought. Would you rather I wore it about my waist?” she asked ingenuously.

“Don't play the innocent, sweetheart. You know damn well I don't want the emerald decorating your mons.”

“I didn't think so.” Brianna smiled sweetly and picked up her brush. Her red-gold hair crackled in the cold, dry air, as she tossed it back over her shoulders.

While they waited for the chamberlain to return, they stood at their chamber window with their arms about each other. The high vantage point of Castle Rock afforded them a stunning view of the surrounding countryside. At this season, all was black and white, but once it turned green in the spring and was dotted with sheep and lambs, the vista would be breathtaking.

After a wait of almost two hours, the chamberlain came to collect them and he escorted them down to the throne room. Brianna bit her lip and caught up her skirts with trembling hands. As the chamberlain opened the heavy doors, she closed her eyes and prayed for courage.

As they were led toward the man seated on the throne, her steps lagged, allowing Wolf to walk a few paces before her.

“Welcome to Scotland.” Robert Bruce's voice was deep and rich.

“Sire, what we have to say is for your ears alone,” Wolf said.

The king turned to the men who flanked him and dismissed them. When they were alone, he assessed the man who stood before him, and then his eyes were irresistibly drawn to the woman at his side.

When Brianna raised her lashes, her knees turned to water.

“Sire, my name is Wolf Mortimer. I am here as an envoy for Queen Isabelle and my father, Roger Mortimer.”

The Bruce stared at the young beauty before him. She was dressed exactly as Jory de Warenne had been dressed when he fell in love with her more than twenty years ago.

She dipped her knee. “Sire, my name is Brianna de Beauchamp.”

Wolf's brows rose slightly. His wife's name was
Brianna Mortimer.

Large brown Celtic eyes looked into a pair that was identical to his own and, in that fateful moment, Robert Bruce recognized her. “You are Jory's child.”

Wolf looked from his wife to the king and back again. His sixth sense suddenly took over and he knew that Brianna was the daughter of Robert Bruce. He realized it was a shock to the king.
Damn you, Brianna, you knew all along!

Wolf stiffened. The sudden knowledge was a mortal blow to his pride.
How could you have kept this secret from me, Brianna?
Wolf bowed stiffly, politely. “I shall leave negotiations in your capable hands, my lady. Kindly excuse me. I warrant you will do better without my intrusive presence.”

Mortimer turned on his heel and strode from the throne room.