A Stranger's Touch Read online

  ‘A blind obedience that may take you to the gallows?’

  Jacques was silent, then, ‘I am searching for Morwenna. When I find her it is my intention to care for her. We shall not return to the house on the cliffs.’

  ‘How do you intend to care for her?’

  ‘I shall find work.’

  ‘Then I shall help you to that end—but first I must make my peace with her and discover what she needs and wants from me. I did—do care for her …’

  ‘I wanted to kill you when I guessed what had happened between you.’

  ‘And now?’ Rupert arched his brow.

  ‘We could fight but I dare say you would win, though perhaps not if we wrestled—but I am no murderer. Morwenna comes first. If I throw my life away, she will have no one to protect her.’

  ‘Good thinking.’ Rupert laughed softly in his throat. ‘I like you better than I did, Jacques Morgan. Are we agreed that whoever finds her first lets the other know? Since we are both of the same mind concerning her welfare we may as well help each other.’

  ‘We shall help each other look for her,’ Jacques said. ‘But if you think you have my blessing to make her your mistress you are mistaken. I shall do my best to persuade her that it would be foolish. I am not sure you are to be trusted.’

  Rupert winced for he deserved the other’s censure. ‘You speak truly and your words are sharp, but, believe me, she will come to no harm in my care. So we are of one mind?’

  ‘Aye. We’ll share a room this night and continue the search in the morning. She cannot have gone so very far on foot and will, I believe, try for London—though she has little money and may look for work.’

  ‘I will try the inns and towns if you take the farms and villages. Her looks are distinctive and if anyone has seen her they are not like to forget.’

  ‘I spoke to the innkeeper earlier. He told me of a woman who may have been Morwenna. She asked for work, but he had none and he did not see her leave for he was busy. I have searched the town, but no one seems to have seen her. The market was here today and she might have found work with a farmer’s wife. Tomorrow I shall seek out anyone who hired a new female servant.’

  ‘It is not fitting that she should do menial work. Your brother should be ashamed of himself for bringing her to that state when she was born a lady.’

  ‘Do not be so swift to blame, sir. Michael has some cause for what he does. Had he done nothing we should have lost even the house.’

  ‘I am sorry for it. I would not condemn him for the smuggling despite he breaks the law—but this plotting against the King is evil and I must do all I can to prevent it.’

  ‘I know nothing of any plot against the King. I’m not sure what my brother knows. Michael has spoken of dangerous times, but he tells me only what he needs me to do. I fear my brother may end at the rope’s end if he continues his foolish work.’

  ‘You should warn him to mend his ways.’

  ‘He would not heed me.’

  ‘You still intend to strike out alone?’

  ‘My father told me to do so and I should have done it long ago had it not been for Morwenna. I had to stay to protect her.’

  ‘She is fortunate to have such a brother.’

  ‘She would not thank me for saying it. Morwenna believes she can look after herself and needs no help from anyone.’

  ‘She will find it harder now that she is alone and without friends.’

  ‘Yes …’ Jacques shuddered. ‘She has never been much into the world. I fear for her if she should fall into the hands of rogues.’

  ‘We must find her before that happens. As you said, she cannot have gone far as yet.’

  ‘We have covered several leagues this afternoon,’ Morwenna said, to the woman who was driving the covered wagon. The players had taken her in and Sylvania had offered to give her a place to sleep and a seat on her wagon. ‘Alone, I could never have travelled so far.’

  ‘The horses do not tire as easily as we.’ Sylvania had dark flashing eyes and hair as black as night. Once she must have been very beautiful and even now in her middle age she was still a sensuous woman who oozed charm and warmth. ‘It was Edward’s good fortune that you chose to sing with us today. Your voice is pleasant. You will draw people to us, though we must be careful for the law is against women actors. Although it has been known, it is illegal for a woman to act upon the stage. We use a young boy to play the female parts.’

  ‘I saw the mummers and the juggling. Do you give plays as well?’ Morwenna looked at her, feeling excited by the idea. ‘I have never seen a miracle play, though I know the players come to Bodmin at Christ’s mass.’

  ‘We have performed such pieces at the feast of Christ,’ Sylvania agreed, ‘but Edward hath a clever mind and he devises plays of his own contriving. We shall be performing at an inn in Truro.’

  ‘I thought I might sing, but a play …’ Morwenna felt a tingle of excitement. ‘How wonderful it would be to act upon the stage.’

  ‘You must not think of it. I have told you, it is not legal. I too should like to play great parts for Edward says I have talent and I read the parts he writes for all the actors to help them learn. Yet I know my place. I sew costumes and help with rehearsals, but I may not act. And nor may you.’

  ‘That is so unfair,’ Morwenna objected. ‘You have a way of holding your head and speaking and would make a fine actor—and Master Rawlings is very clever to devise such things.’ She sighed. ‘My father had few books, but Mama read much as a child and she told me stories of history. She had a book of love stories, which I have still, and she taught me to read herself. My father did not believe in schooling a girl, but Mama said it was important that I should know a little of the world.’

  Sylvania nodded and smiled. ‘You will learn more of the world with us, Wenna. We travel from place to place and you will see things, as you have never seen them before.’

  ‘Yes, I am sure I shall,’ Morwenna said. ‘It was fortunate for me that I met Master Rawlings.’

  ‘Edward is a good man and you may trust him,’ Sylvania told her. ‘But be careful of Peacock Henry. He is a vain spiteful man and if you fall foul of his tongue he will show no mercy.’

  ‘Is he the one that wears such very bright colours?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sylvania laughed. ‘It is why we call him a peacock. He likes to strut about in fine clothes and thinks himself a great actor—but Edward gives him only easy parts, for he forgets his lines. He is fond of pinching and touching us when he thinks he can get away with it, so be warned.’

  ‘I shall.’ Morwenna smiled, keeping her sigh inside.

  She was not sure how long she could stay with her new friends. In the country she might sometimes be allowed to sing in a public place, but in London she would be forbidden from performing at the theatre. She might sew or cook for the players, but there must be something more worthwhile she could do with her life.

  It was unfair that she was not permitted to seek her fortune on the stage, but there were many things forbidden to her sex and she must simply accept it. A woman’s lot in life was to marry and provide heirs for her husband, but she would never find a husband now for she was ruined.

  For a moment she thought of Rupert and the pleasure she’d found lying in his arms. Where was he and did he ever think of her? It was unlikely that she would see him again, for he must surely have forgotten her.

  ‘That was a deep sigh,’ Sylvania said and looked at her. ‘Were you thinking of your husband, or your lover?’

  Morwenna met the older woman’s knowing eyes, a flush in her cheeks. ‘I must forget him,’ she said. ‘He does not think of me and I shall not think of him.’

  ‘Men were ever deceivers,’ Sylvania said and then laughed. ‘I must remember that line, for Edward will put it in a play. Forget him if he is faithless, Wenna. You have friends now and we shall look after you.’

  Morwenna thanked her. Because of her new friends she was in no immediate danger of starving or falling prey
to robbers and evil men, but her heart still ached when she thought of Rupert Melford. She could not stop loving him just because he had betrayed her and left her to her fate.

  ‘I shall never see him again,’ she said and made herself smile. ‘Besides, I am looking forward to my new life with you and the others.’

  It could be a good life for her—once she could put her heartache to one side. She thought she would not love again, but life went on and so must she.

  Chapter Seven

  ‘I was busy that morning,’ the landlord told Rupert the next day. ‘She might have been the lady you seek, my lord, for she was beautiful and she spoke well. Her hair was the colour of ripe damson plums in the sunlight. I seem to recall she went out into the yard.’

  ‘We had players here yesterday morning,’ his wife reminded him. She had been listening while her husband answered their questions and now came forwards to offer her information. ‘I think she sang in the yard and she might have gone off with the leader of the troupe.’

  ‘She went with the troupe of travelling players?’ Rupert’s gaze narrowed, his hands clenching at the thought of Morwenna in such company. They might be thieves and rogues for all he knew. ‘Are you certain?’

  ‘I cannot be certain, my lord—but I did see her talking with Edward Rawlings. His people have performed here before. They travel up and down the country and sometimes overseas, I think. They have never made trouble here and so we allow them to come when they will.’

  ‘I thank you for the information, Goodwife,’ Rupert said and held out a small gold coin to her. ‘Have you any notion of where they meant to perform next?’

  ‘I think someone mentioned Truro, but I do not know for sure,’ the woman told him and slipped the coin in her pocket. ‘I noticed the girl, for she was pretty—and I thought her bold to sing and flaunt herself in the inn yard.’

  There was a hint of disapproval in her voice, as there might well be. Rupert frowned. Had Morwenna no idea of the risk she ran by flaunting the law? She could well be arrested as a vagrant if nothing more. He must find her soon, before she brought trouble on herself.

  ‘They were headed for Truro?’

  ‘I cannot be sure, my lord but I heard some mention of a performance to be given in the yard of the Black Cockerel Inn.’

  ‘Thank you. Perhaps I shall find the lady I seek there.’

  He was thoughtful as he left the inn and went out to the stables, where the lad had his horse ready and waiting. He was not sure what he would do if he found Morwenna at the inn. Would she be willing to come with him after the way he had treated her or would she tell him to go away and leave her alone?

  He could not force her to be his mistress, but he was determined he would not simply walk away and abandon her. It behoved him to make sure she was safe and to look after her, at least until her brother came to claim her.

  Thoughtful and uneasy, Rupert mounted his horse. It seemed he might discover Morwenna within a short time, but something was telling him that the path ahead was not smooth for them. If he could go back to the beginning and start again … yet what would he do differently?

  Had they met at another place and another time …

  What was he thinking? Surely not of marriage! It would not do. His family were proud of their service to the King and to bring the sister of a traitor who would likely hang for his misdeeds into their midst would be shocking. Besides, he had no desire to wed. He had supposed that one day he must get an heir, for he had promised his mother he would do so, but for the time being he had no thought of it. The idea of marriage to his Cornish wench was ridiculous.

  It was true that Morwenna had been virgin when she came to him, but he had not forced her. She had come to him willingly, their loving spontaneous and by mutual desire.

  She was the loveliest creature he had ever known. The scent of her filled his senses, haunting him both waking and sleeping. The feel of her in his arms and the touch of her lips lived in his memory, hovering at the back of his mind. He smiled at the memory of their first loving. It had been so very sweet that it touched something within him, a place that had been empty for so many years.

  He had wished a thousand times since regaining his memory that things had been different—but the facts remained. Michael was a dangerous conspirator and, when the plotters were taken, he would either be killed or brought to trial and hung.

  Morwenna might hate him if she knew that he was one of those determined to bring her brother and his fellow plotters to justice. He smiled ruefully. Knowing her, she might even take a knife to his throat herself.

  No, no, he wronged her. She was fiery and passionate—and he wanted her back in his arms and his bed.

  Morwenna looked down at the costume she was wearing. It was bright, the skirt very full like the Romany women wore. The colour was green and suited her well, her hair hanging loose on her shoulder and topped by a cap of gold thread and false jewels that nevertheless gave her a queenly look.

  ‘You will do well as our Queen of the Gypsies,’ Sylvania said as she finished arranging her costume. ‘You know you are to sing and then introduce the first scene? Then you must leave at once. Do not linger a moment longer.’

  ‘Yes, I know.’ Morwenna smiled. ‘It is such a lovely story. A knight is wandering in the forest, lost and wounded after a defeat in battle. He lies close to death and is awakened by a beautiful woman, but she is a wicked elfin and will lead him a merry dance before she breaks his heart. At the end Edward will read the moral of his tale aloud.’

  ‘Which is that beauty be not everything and we should not be led astray when our hearts are down, but uplift them and look to God for our salvation.’

  ‘It is a sombre piece, for the sad knight dies,’ Morwenna said. ‘I prefer the merry scenes where the fool plays his jests and they all dance and sing.’

  ‘Most people we play to are simple souls,’ Sylvania told her. ‘They love a jest, music and dancing, but when it comes to a play they demand high drama, tragedy and a moral ending. It is because Edward makes his tales moral that we are allowed to practise in peace. If we were licentious and encouraged immorality, we should be tried by the church, beaten and driven out of town at the tail of a cart.’

  Morwenna looked at her in horror. ‘Are people so cruel to you?’

  ‘Sometimes, when times are bad, they drive us away rather than let us perform, but at other times they are pleased to see us.’

  ‘It must be a hard life for you.’

  ‘Yes, but I would have it no other way. I enjoy the travelling and the excitement of never knowing where we shall be the next day.’

  Morwenna was silent as she followed her new friend from the caravan where they had changed their clothes. She was enjoying the company and in summer or even autumn, as now, the life was good, but in winter she thought she might find it hard.

  ‘Remember, Wenna, you must sing your song, then announce the play starts and run behind the stage. It is not your place to be a part of the play itself.’

  Morwenna nodded. It had been easy enough to sing in the inn yard in Bodmin, but that had been an impulse and the simple folk there had been in a good mood that day, but this was different. They had set up a stage in the inn yard and people had paid to see the performance. It had, in fact, become an outdoor theatre and as such it was forbidden to her to play upon the stage. Edward had told her that to do so was illegal and punishable by imprisonment or a fine, but said that it had been known for a woman to impersonate a man in order to deceive; though, if discovered, the woman would be taken for a wanton and punished for her boldness.

  Morwenna felt nervous as she went round to the front of the stage. A few cheers greeted her appearance and then some whistling and jeering, as the men in the audience realised that she was a woman and not a man dressed as a woman.

  Opening her mouth, Morwenna began to sing. Her throat was dry and she found she could not make the words come. Someone called out an insult from the crowd and another spoke of wanting th
eir money back. Forcing herself to stand her ground, she lifted her head proudly and suddenly her voice was there. Her song was pure and as the notes rose clear and sweet the crowd fell silent.

  After her song was done silence fell and then there was some desultory cheering and clapping, though some called out insults.

  ‘It is now my duty to tell you of the play,’ Morwenna announced lifting her head proudly. ‘‘Tis of a knight bewitched by a lady who is a wicked elfin and will lead him to his death …’

  ‘Witch!’ someone cried out in the crowd. ‘Wanton whore. Get you from the stage or face the punishment you deserve.’

  ‘Nay, her song was sweet,’ a man cried.

  ‘The wanton breaks the law …’

  Morwenna realised she had outstayed her welcome and ran behind the curtain. What had made her speak of the story? All she’d been meant to do was hold out her hand and say, ‘Now the play begins.’

  Sylvania looked at her oddly as she came off the stage.

  ‘What made you speak of the play? You were told to sing and run behind the curtain.’

  ‘Forgive me, I was excited and forgot. I said but a few words more, that’s all.’

  ‘Yes, but …’ Sylvania shook her head. ‘I wish you had stuck to Edward’s instructions. I fear they took against you. It was a big enough risk to let you sing.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I meant nothing wrong.’

  ‘People are righteous and superstitious. I told you that they sometimes drive us away with stones.’ Sylvania shook her head. ‘Someone called you a wanton and a witch. If they truly think it, it could be dangerous for you—for all of us.’

  ‘Surely not?’ A cold shiver ran down Morwenna’s spine as she saw her friend’s anxious look. ‘It is just a few words. They could not think …’

  ‘It was the manner of your speech.’ Sylvania shook her head and tried to smile. ‘I dare say I am foolish. You meant no harm. Edward calls for me. I must go. Be careful, Wenna, and stay hidden.’

  Morwenna waited behind the screen. The play had begun and the actor playing the part of the Faery Queen had found the knight asleep. Morwenna heard a hissing sound as Peacock Henry bent over the sleeping knight to whisper words of seduction into his ear.