A Stranger's Touch Page 7

  Chapter Five

  ‘Have you heard from your brother?’ The Dowager Marchioness looked at her daughter and frowned. ‘Rupert seldom writes to me so it does not surprise me, but I am told he went out of town. Did he say anything to you, May?’

  ‘No, Mother.’ May looked anxious. ‘I was expecting him to call before this, because it is my birthday tomorrow. It is most unlike him not to bring me a gift.’

  ‘Yes,’ the Dowager Marchioness agreed. ‘He may not be a good son to me, but he has always been a fond brother. I think it strange that we have not heard from him of late. Richard would never have left it so long before visiting his family.’

  ‘Mother, you are not quite fair. I am sad that Richard died so tragically, but it was a long time ago. Do you not think you should try to forgive Rupert? It was not his fault that—’ May was silenced as her mother’s eyes snapped at her.

  ‘What would you recall of it? You were but a child. Rupert pushed his brother into the moat that day. They were fighting as usual despite their father’s orders to behave. It was Rupert’s fault that Richard became ill and later died. You may forgive him if you choose, but I never shall.’

  May made no reply. It was useless to argue with her mother when she was in this mood for she could never win their arguments. The Marchioness had become a cold, proud and bitter woman.

  ‘I wish Rupert would write,’ May said, but so softly that her mother did not hear her.

  In his sister’s opinion it was strange that Rupert had not sent a gift for her birthday and she could not help but wonder if something had happened to him to make him forget.

  What was he doing that was so important he could not even send her his good wishes for the day?

  ‘You are so lovely, my darling.’ Adam bent to kiss Morwenna’s lips, stroking the slightly damp hair from her forehead. ‘I cannot tell you how much these meetings have meant to me. I want to be good to you, Morwenna. Promise me you will not lose your courage. You will come with me?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ She smiled up at him, reaching out to trace his mouth. ‘I must speak to Jacques before we go. I owe him that at least—but when do you plan to leave?’

  ‘I think I must go soon, the day after tomorrow. Is that enough time for you to make your farewells, see your friends?’

  ‘I have no real friends. Michael did not encourage it.’

  ‘You do not know when he returns?’

  ‘Any time now. He will not send me word, but when he’s ready he will simply walk in as if he never went away.’

  He nodded, his finger touching the pulse spot at the base of her throat. ‘It hardly matters. He cannot stop us, Morwenna. You are mine now and nothing can part us.’

  ‘I love you,’ she whispered shyly and waited, but he did not say the words she longed to hear.

  Feeling a small hurt that he did not speak of love, she rose from the sandy floor of the cave and brushed at her skirts.

  ‘I should go now. The wind is howling and I think there will be a storm before long.’

  ‘You have many storms on this part of the coast,’ he said and rose to look into her face. ‘It was on a night like this that I came into your life, Morwenna. Only a few days have passed, but it seems a lifetime—I feel I have known you all my life. Have been waiting for you.’

  ‘As I waited for you.’

  ‘Go home now and I shall follow,’ he said, bending his head to brush her lips in a last kiss. ‘I have a little business in the village. I must hire horses that will carry us both.’

  ‘Yes.’ She stood gazing into his eyes. ‘You have still not remembered anything?’

  ‘I have flashes … pictures in my head. My life is there waiting behind a curtain of mist, but I cannot draw it down.’

  ‘What if you never do?’

  ‘Then we shall make a new life together,’ he said. ‘Go now, Morwenna. I shall see you later.’

  ‘Yes—and soon we shall go away together.’

  She smiled and left him, running sure-footedly down the cliff towards her home.

  Adam stood watching her for a few minutes, then left the cave and began the descent to the village. Already the rain had begun to make the path wet and slippery and it was growing dusk. His foot slipped on a loose rock and slid from under him, causing him to lose his balance and fall. He hit his head and everything went black.

  Morwenna woke and lay for a moment wondering what had disturbed her sleep. She had come to bed late because she wanted to get started preparing her things for her departure. Besides, thoughts of Adam kept her from sleep.

  Something had woken her now, but what was it?

  Jumping out of bed, she pulled on her clothes and went downstairs. Bess was making up the fire in the kitchen. She turned to look at her, her brow arching.

  ‘Michael came home after you went up. He and Jacques have gone to the beach,’ she said. ‘It’s not like you to sleep through a storm.’

  ‘I must have been tired.’ Morwenna’s cheeks were pink, because after spending the afternoon in the cave making love with Adam she had slept more deeply than usual. ‘I’ll go down to the inlet and see what is happening.’

  ‘Michael said I was to tell you not to go out if you woke.’

  ‘Michael is too fond of—’ She broke off as she heard loud popping noises. ‘What is that?’ she asked, staring at Bess in sudden fright. ‘It was like a ship’s cannon being fired.’

  Without waiting for Bess to answer, she pulled on her cloak and went out, heading for the top of the cliff rather than the beach. A bright moon revealed the scene at sea and on the beach below. Two ships were out in the bay and one had fired on the other. She thought one might belong to the militia, who patrolled the coastline, and the other, if she were not mistaken, was French. Had Michael been down in the bay signalling to the ship? Yet he would not, for on a night like this he would send the signal to say it was not safe. The high winds made it impossible to bring in either boats or the ship and the full moon was the smuggler’s enemy.

  Looking down at the beach, she saw that another ship had foundered on the rocks. It seemed as if the whole village had turned out and she could see that a large amount of cargo was being washed ashore. She could see one line of men still trying to reach men in the water, but on the beach fighting had broken out.

  Not thinking of her own safety, Morwenna ran down the steep path to the inlet. She must make sure no one had been washed to that side of the cliff, because by the look of what was going on the villagers were more interested in grabbing what they could from the water.

  She reached the inlet safely, running across the soft sands to the edge of the sea to make certain no one was being crushed against the rocks or lying face down in the shallow water. This time there was no one to be seen, but she caught sight of a small wooden chest bobbing in the water. As she watched, it was beached by the waves. She bent down to pick it up. It was not particularly heavy, but a heavy iron lock, which would not open, secured the lid. Morwenna considered. If she left it lying on the beach, the villagers would take it when they’d finished on the main beach. It might belong to someone who had managed to survive the wreck. Normally she did not take anything she found on the beach, but the chest looked as if it might belong to a woman so she decided to carry it home. If she heard of a survivor, she would enquire if he or she were the owner.

  She was startled as she heard shouting and screaming from the beach and the sharp crack of a musket. There must be more trouble on the beach. Had the militia been alerted and arrived on the scene before the villagers dispersed?

  Michael would not want her to be involved. She began the climb to her house. Wanting to be home and ready to help if her brothers returned with survivors, she did not look back and was unaware that a man further up the cliff was watching her.

  Rupert saw Morwenna make her way back from the cliff path. A sickening horror ran through him as he realised that she was one of the wreckers after all—those ghoulish creatures who lured ships on t
o the rocks to steal their cargo when it washed ashore—and he’d really felt something for her!

  What a damned fool he’d been to get caught up with a Morgan. The knock on the head, as he’d tried to secure his long boat in the inlet on the day of the first storm and been swept on to the rocks, had sent his senses flying. Until that fall on the cliffs some hours earlier he’d known nothing of who he truly was or his reason for being here. Now memories had all come flooding back: his past, the feelings of utter loneliness he’d experienced of late, his mission here and his promise to seek out the nest of traitors that threatened the life of King James I of England. Instead of honouring his promise, he’d spent his time making love to a girl who had lied to protect her traitorous brothers.

  When he’d woken from the second bang on the head to find his memory returned, he’d gone straight to the meeting place arranged before he left his ship. Despite the delay of several days, his loyal men had been waiting for him at the inn with clothes, money and his weapons. He knew that his ship was sailing off the coastline, waiting to pick him up if he should wish it, for the ship that was wrecked on the night of his arrival in Deacon’s Cove was not the Sea Raven.

  After consulting with his men on what they had learned while they waited for him, he had been on his way to speak with the local militiamen about the situation here when the church bells started to toll. By the time he’d arrived in Deacon’s Cove with some of his men it had been too late to do anything. The sound of firing told him that something unpleasant was happening and, on presentation of his credentials, one of the local militia officers had told him that they’d caught the wreckers actually setting on an unfortunate wretch cast helpless upon the shore.

  ‘They would have killed the poor devil had we not got here in time, my lord. It is a wicked trade and one we are determined to stamp out.’

  ‘You are to be commended for your vigilance. Do you know who is behind this night’s work?’ Rupert asked.

  ‘I’ve seen the Morgan brothers on the beach, but I don’t know if they were involved. They were fighting with the others—quarrelling over the spoils, I dare say.’

  ‘Like the rats they undoubtedly are.’ Rupert looked grim. ‘Did you catch any of them?’

  ‘The Morgan brothers got away as usual—but we snatched some of the others. I don’t think they’re local, but we’ll hang the lot of them this time.’

  ‘As they deserve,’ Rupert said and left him. He was unsure what to do for the best. Thoughts of Morwenna’s sweetness had flooded back into his mind. She loved her brothers and tried to protect them, but that did not make her a part of this evil work. Despite their trade, Morwenna might still be innocent of any wrongdoing.

  In that moment Rupert had known that he could not simply ride away from her without a word. Her brother Michael might be a traitor and it was his duty to do what he could to bring him to justice—but surely he could protect Morwenna. He might also try to keep Jacques out of it if he were sure that he was innocent of treason. He was undoubtedly a smuggler, but that was not Rupert’s business. His mission was to discover what he could of the plot to murder the King and he must do what he could to that end, but Morwenna need not suffer. He could still take her away. It was what he wanted.

  His steps had turned towards the house on the hill. The rain had stopped by then and the wind was dying. Rupert had almost caught up to her when he saw her enter her house, her shawl over her head. She was carrying something …

  As he saw it was a sea chest his heart sank. She had taken goods from the beach like all the others of her kind. She was as bad as her brothers.

  For a moment he stood rooted to the spot, the gorge rising in his throat. Should he leave now? Disgust, anger and rising disappointment tore at him and the pain was almost too much to bear. He had thought her different from all the others.

  How could she stoop so low? Anger prevented him from simply leaving. He must have this out with her.

  As Morwenna entered the kitchen, she discovered that Jacques was there and one of Michael’s crew. Her first glance told her that Benjamin was wounded in the arm. She gave a cry, placed the small chest on the floor by the fireplace and went to him.

  ‘Your arm is bleeding. What happened?’

  ‘Someone in the cove must have lured the ship in. They were strangers, Morwenna—wreckers. Michael told us to drive them off and there was a fight. Then the Revenue ship turned up and started firing on the Frenchie—and then the militia turned up on the beach and set about anyone they could find. Most of our men ran for the caves as usual and will have got away. I’m not sure about your brother. I was set upon by some ruffians and Jacques got me away.’

  ‘I think Michael may have got mixed up with the militia,’ Jacques said. ‘He was fighting with the wreckers when they poured on to the beach and they probably thought he was one of those that lured the ship in.’

  ‘No, how could they? Everyone knows we don’t do that here—the villagers wouldn’t dream of it and Michael has forbidden it. He would punish anyone he suspected of such wickedness.’ Morwenna felt cold all over. ‘Did Michael signal to the French ship to come in?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Benjamin said and winced as Morwenna’s brother bound his arm tighter to stop the blood. ‘He may have done, but he had nothing to do with the wreckers—you know he didn’t, Morwenna. We did what we could to rescue the crew and I think we saved the captain and one of the officers. Three others of the crew were helped by villagers—but the wreckers would have killed them if we hadn’t turned up.’

  ‘But if the militia have taken Michael …’ Morwenna halted as she saw the look of anxiety in Jacques’s eyes. ‘It will all be a mistake. When they know who he is they will let him go.’

  ‘Yes, perhaps.’ Benjamin stood up. ‘I’m going to see what I can find out.’ As he took a step forwards, he stumbled and Jacques caught him, forcing him back in his chair.

  ‘Stay where you are. I’ll see what I can discover. Give him some brandy, Morwenna, and make him go to bed.’

  ‘Yes, all right,’ she said. ‘Please take care of yourself.’

  ‘It will be all over by now. I’ll go to the village, see if I can find Michael—or anyone else who saw anything—’ Jacques broke off as the door was flung open and his elder brother entered.

  ‘I thought the militia had taken you,’ Benjamin cried out.

  ‘A trooper had me, but I managed to break free. I think most of the others got to the caves—but I may have been recognised and the militia will be here before morning. We’d best go to the caves, too.’

  ‘Benjamin can’t walk,’ Morwenna objected. ‘Stay here and tell Captain Bird that you were helping the crew, as you always do.’

  ‘There’s a new man in charge,’ Michael said. ‘It wasn’t the local militia that came after us, but part of a different regiment. They seemed to know who they wanted and it was almost as if they expected something of the sort.’

  ‘You think we’ve been betrayed?’

  ‘I’ve thought for a while there might be an informer.’ Michael frowned. ‘Something important was meant to happen tonight, but because of the storm it didn’t—however, the wreckers were out to make trouble. If they try to blame us …’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Benjamin said. ‘You’ll have to help me, both of you, but it’s best we’re not here if they come.’

  ‘Be careful of his arm,’ Morwenna said as the brothers hauled him to his feet and Michael took him over his shoulder.

  ‘We’d best go to our beds and take our time getting up if they come,’ Bess said as the door closed firmly behind the men and they were alone in the kitchen. Her gaze fell on the chest Morwenna had rescued. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I found it floating in the sea,’ Morwenna said. ‘I should have left it, but I thought if there were survivors I would be able to return it. If the militia found it here, they would think the worst.’

  ‘Take it and throw it over the cliff.’

  ‘No, that’
s foolish.’ Morwenna picked it up. ‘I’ll take it to my room. Captain Bird won’t try to search my room.’

  ‘Michael said there’s a new man in charge.’

  ‘On the beach, but he surely won’t come here.’ Morwenna was about to pick up the chest when she heard knocking at the door. She pushed the chest into a dark recess, hoping it would not be seen. Then, giving Bess a warning look she went to the door and opened it. A shock ran through her as she saw who stood there.

  ‘You …’ she said, the colour draining from her cheeks as she saw his cold expression. This was not the same man she had rescued and come to love, but a stranger. What had happened to him? Had he deceived her all the time? ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘To warn you that the militia will be here within the hour. I came ahead of them, but your brothers should hide wherever they usually hide when the militia come looking.’

  ‘You’ve remembered who you are at last?’ Morwenna was shivering because he was no longer wearing the clothes she’d given him and he looked different—sterner and a man of some importance.

  ‘My name is Rupert Melford,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t matter who I am or what I am. Believe me, I would have no harm come to you from this, even though I know you for what you are. That ship was deliberately lured into the cove and to its doom.’

  ‘You can’t think that we …’ Her throat was tight as she saw the disdain in his eyes. This wasn’t the man who had made love to her in the caves and she knew with blinding clarity that she’d never truly known him. ‘You lied to me.’

  ‘No, I’d lost my memory, that much is true, Morwenna. When you rescued me I knew nothing.’

  ‘Your memory has returned fully now?’

  ‘Yes, earlier this evening.’

  ‘Why didn’t you come and tell me?’

  ‘I had more important things to do.’ Morwenna flinched as if he’d struck her. ‘I cannot explain, but it doesn’t matter now.’ His gaze narrowed. ‘I saw someone signal to a ship in your cove the first night I stayed here, Morwenna—and I saw you carry that chest back to the house this night. If your family weren’t involved, why was someone signalling from the cliffs near your house—and why did you bring that chest from the beach?’