"Aye. You are, I believe, the man who swore that marriage was the lowest form of slavery."
Alden swallowed his laughter and pointedly stared at a spot on the floor rather than face his friend.
In her agitation, Elizabeth got up from her throne and walked forward until she came to a halt beside Morgan and the woman. In a low voice she said, "I am more than a little surprised, my Lord Grey. And, I might add, disappointed. Since you dared to risk the fragile peace between our two countries and bring this--ragged woman here against her will, I declare that you are responsible for her until I find someone willing to wed her."
Morgan frowned.
"I was merely following my instincts as a soldier.
Majesty. I am convinced that this woman would surely have married one of her own countrymen before your plans could be implemented. "
The queen sighed.
"If you were not such a rogue, I would insist that you take your duty a step farther and wed this baggage." Elizabeth flashed one of her most brilliant smiles.
"Of course, since you are descended from royalty, I had always thought you to be one of my suitors."
Morgan's eyes twinkled with teasing laughter.
"If I thought I had a chance to win your heart, Majesty, you know I would pledge my own. But though we are true friends, I fear your heart lies elsewhere."
The young queen looked up into his handsome face and felt the familiar twinge. He was indeed a man who could start a fire in her blood, as he did, it seemed, in the blood of every woman in the kingdom. But they both knew that he was far too lusty a man to spend the rest of his life observing rules of protocol while his wife governed. Life at court had always been the part of royal life that Morgan Grey least enjoyed.
Which was probably why he sought the battlefield.
Elizabeth looked from Brenna to Morgan. "" Tis said the Scots will need a firm hand if they are to be won over. And there is no firmer hand in all of England than yours. Also, there is no doubt as to your loyalty, my friend. But I suppose I cannot ask this truly supreme sacrifice.
Marriage. " She chuckled as if it were a great joke.
"To this--untidy foreigner."
"I would rather face a horde of invaders without a weapon." Morgan's tone was crisp.
"But ne'er fear. Majesty. You will find a solution to the problem. I agree that the woman will not be easy to marry off, especially when a suitable partner learns how difficult she is to subdue. She is devious, shrewd and cunning." He touched a hand to his wound.
"Not to mention skilled with a knife."
Even while she shared a laugh with Morgan, the queen saw the look of anguish in Brenna's eyes and fought to ignore it. Did she not understand the lady's desire to choose her own destiny? But how many could afford such a luxury? She lifted her head regally. Not even one born to the Crown.
"You know I can refuse you no request, Morgan Grey. I am indebted to you a hundredfold for your loyalty. And so I will not command you to marry your prisoner. But, though I see the wisdom of bringing her here until a decision is reached regarding her future, I cannot ask another to be responsible for the lady. And since she is a woman of noble birth, I am reluctant to consign her to a prison cell until her future is decided."
"Aye. The Tower would be too harsh."
Brenna stood rooted to the floor, hearing their words echoing in her head. This could not be happening. While a hundred strangers watched with disinterest, her fate was coldly being decided without any regard for her feelings.
She clenched her hands tightly at her sides and bit her lip to keep from crying out at the unfairness of it.
Morgan glanced at Brenna. He chose to ignore the anger and fury in her gaze. Was there not enough anger in his own heart? He was a soldier, not a nurse. He had seen to his duty, and had brought the Scotswoman to England. Now he wished to be finished with her. He turned to the queen.
"I cannot take responsibility for the lady. It is enough that I have brought her here to you."
The queen watched his eyes, reading the frustration he could not hide.
"The lady is your prisoner--you are her jailer. Where you go, she follows. You bear sole responsibility for her."
"And if I go to battle?"
"Your battlefield lies here in England, for now."
"Then I pray. Majesty, that you decide the lady's fate quickly."
The queen could not resist a quick smile.
"All in good time, my lord."
"You mean" -- Brenna's voice was choked with rage "--I have no voice in my own destiny? I cannot return to my home? I must remain this man's captive?"
Morgan gave her an indulgent smile.
"It seems you are fated to remain under my--protected care."
"Aye," the queen said quickly.
"Take her and good riddance. Set her up in one of your households, Morgan, until I am able to arrange a suitable marriage."
Brenna heard no more. She felt the blood rush from her head, leaving her ashen. The queen's words faded until they were only a slight buzzing in her ears. The room began to spin in a dizzying rush. And as she slid to the floor, a soothing black mantle settled over her.
Chapter Seven
q^ztqts^q t< JVlon Dieu. Did you not give this poor child anything to eat during her journey to England? "
Brenna felt the press of a cool, damp cloth against her forehead and struggled to open her eyes.
Morgan's voice, deep with concern, was very near.
"I tried to feed her. The damned female refused all offers of food."
"And did you allow her to rest, mon cher?"
"Rest? I am a soldier, on a mission for my queen. I expected her to keep up."
Brenna heard the queen's voice, low, regal.
"Was she not given even a moment's privacy?"
"I foolishly offered her privacy. But only once. She bolted and tried to run home to Scotland. My men and I were forced to waste precious time chasing after her again. I tell you, the woman needs a firm hand."
"Be careful, Morgan Grey," the gentle French voice said, "that your firm hand does not break her into little pieces."