Brenna shook her head slightly, afraid her voice would tremble.
"Then I shall tell you about myself," Madeline said in her charming French accent.
Brenna gave a grateful smile, relieved to be free for the moment from the scrutiny of Morgan and the queen.
"I am married to Charles Crowel, Duke of Eton. He is one of the queen's most trusted aides."
"You are not English."
"Won." Madeline gave a low chuckle.
"That I could never pretend. Not with this accent. My home, until my marriage, was France."
"Do you not miss your home?"
"Oh, of course. But I go there often to visit. And my beloved brother and sister come to England to stay with me so that I am not nearly so homesick."
Brenna grew silent and turned to watch the queen and Morgan.
"So, cherie," Madeline said, noting the direction of Brenna's gaze.
"Already you have become the object of much speculation. How did you happen to get captured by that fascinating man?"
Brenna gave a wry smile.
"There is no mystery to it. He overpowered me."
"No mystery?" The Frenchwoman handed the damp cloth to a serving girl, then began plumping the pillows about Brenna's head.
"Morgan Grey does not capture women; he eludes them. He has managed to evade the snares set by every eager woman at court." She gave a knowing smile.
"And, cherie, there were many hoping to ensnare him. Why, even the queen was rendered speechless when he presented you at court. I think, from the way he looks at you, that he desires you."
fainted. " The very thought of such a weakness was repugnant to her.
The woman placed her hand gently on Brenna's shoulder and forced her to lie still.
"That may be so. But I have known a great many people who react violently to strange circumstances. Even the strongest woman must give in to the demands of her body, cherie."
"Who are you?"
"I am Madeline d'Arbeville, Duchess of Eton. And I am told that you are Brenna MacAlpin, leader of a Borderer clan in Scotland."
"Aye." Brenna gave her a grateful smile.
"Thank you for your kindness.
Where am I? " She glanced around at the sumptuous bed hangings.
"You are in my chambers." The queen leaned close.
In the queen's own bed!
"Majesty, I did not mean to create such a disturbance. Forgive me for my weakness," Brenna whispered.
Again she struggled to sit up. This time it was Morgan who restrained her.
"Rest a while longer." His tone was gentler than he'd intended.
"Aye." The queen gave a conspiratorial smile.
"Your little spell gave me the perfect opportunity to dismiss the court and free myself of all duties for the rest of the day. A rare thing indeed. Now," she said, linking her arm through Morgan's, "perhaps I can spend some time with you, dear rogue. We have much to discuss."
Morgan turned toward the figure in the bed. His eyes narrowed as he studied her carefully, noting with satisfaction that the color was returning to her cheeks.
"You will stay with Brenna, Madeline?"
"Oui. It will give us a chance to become acquainted."
Brenna watched as Morgan and the queen retired to a small alcove.
Instantly a servant approached the two with goblets of wine. When the servant left, the queen and her loyal soldier bent their heads close in intimate conversation. Though they kept their voices low, Brenna was aware of the tension in their tones. Whatever was being discussed, it was obviously of utmost importance.
"Would you like to tell me about yourself?" Madeline asked softly.
Brenna shook her head slightly, afraid her voice would tremble.
"Then I shall tell you about myself," Madeline said in her charming French accent.
Brenna gave a grateful smile, relieved to be free for the moment from the scrutiny of Morgan and the queen.
"I am married to Charles Crowel, Duke of Eton. He is one of the queen's most trusted aides."
"You are not English."
"Non." Madeline gave a low chuckle.
"That I could never pretend. Not with this accent. My home, until my marriage, was France."
"Do you not miss your home?"
"Oh, of course. But I go there often to visit. And my beloved brother and sister come to England to stay with me so that I am not nearly so homesick."
Brenna grew silent and turned to watch the queen and Morgan.
"So, cherie," Madeline said, noting the direction of Brenna's gaze.
"Already you have become the object of much speculation. How did you happen to get captured by that fascinating man?"