Highland Heather - Highland Heather Part 38
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Highland Heather Part 38

"How does Greystone Abbey look to you?"

Morgan met his brother's smile.

"As always, I am glad to be back in this peaceful place. I miss it when I am gone too long."

"Aye. I recall the feeling."

For a moment both men grew silent. Then Morgan pressed a hand to his brother's shoulder.

"We will talk soon." He walked to the door.

"If you will follow me, my lady, I will show you to your rooms."

As Brenna followed him from the room, she was aware of Richard's dark gaze following her.

"Hurry back, lass. It's been a long time since Greystone Abbey was graced with such beauty."

She shot him a quick smile before following his brother.

"How much older is Richard than you, my lord?" she asked as she climbed the stairs beside Morgan.

"He is younger by a year."

"Younger. But his hair is streaked with gray."

"He lived hard and fast. Thank the Lord," he added.

"For now his whole world consists of that chair and that window."

She thought of the man beside her, and his reputation as a warrior and a scoundrel. Was that what drove him? The fear that at any moment it could all be taken from him in a single battle?

"I hope you will be comfortable here," he said, showing Brenna to a suite of rooms on the second floor.

She glanced around at the dark stone walls hung with rich tapestries.

The floors were thickly carpeted. The furniture was ornate and comfortable.

Outside the balcony window, the green hills were dotted with flocks of sheep and cattle.

Everywhere there were signs of Morgan's great wealth. Yet the man did not seem affected by it. The people in his village had greeted him like a friend rather than the lord of the manor.

Brenna crossed to the sleeping chamber. A servant looked up from the wardrobe, where she was hanging Brenna's traveling cloak.

"I am certain I will be most comfortable, my lord."

She continued to the balcony and glanced down. He saw the flash of disappointment in her eyes as she spotted the guards below her window.

"In case you have any thought of leaving, my lady," he said, crossing to another door, "be warned." He threw open the door and she could see his crimson cape on the bed.

"My rooms are beside yours. And I will permit no lock between them."

A serving girl, bearing a pitcher of water, paused outside the door.

"Refresh yourself," Morgan said abruptly.

"Mistress Leems will summon you for a midday meal soon."

Brenna sat in front of the looking glass while the serving girl arranged her coal-black hair in a cascade of soft curls entwined with ivory ribbons. The shirred bodice of the morning gown enhanced her high, firm breasts. The long sleeves, inset with beaded silk roses, were tight from wrist to elbow, then billowed to the shoulder. The voluminous skirt fell from a narrow waist. Beneath the hem could be seen pale kid slippers. The effect was stunning.

"You look lovely, my lady." The servant stood back to examine her handiwork. "Thank you, Rosamunde. How long have you served Lord Grey?"

"Since I was a babe, my lady." She smiled shyly.

"My mother began as a scullery maid in the queen's own palace when she was but nine years."

"Is it not rare for the child of a scullery maid to become a personal maid in a fine home such as this?"

"Aye. When my mother was ten and five she showed a kindness to the young Princess Elizabeth, who was being held in the Tower."

"The Tower? The queen was a prisoner in her own land?" When the girl nodded, Brenna realized that her knowledge of the woman who sat upon England's throne was vague.

"Why was the princess in the Tower?"

"Her half-sister, Mary, suspected that Elizabeth plotted against her.

The young princess spent two months in the Tower until the queen was persuaded that the charges were false. "

"How did your mother help Elizabeth?"

"She managed to bring her hot food and a warm blanket, which my Lord Grey supplied to her," the girl said proudly. '"Twas cold and damp in the Tower. And the prisoner, though of royal blood, was treated badly.

My Lord Grey warned my mother that if she were caught, she would be put to death. But she risked her life rather than see the princess suffer.

When she became queen, Her Majesty rewarded my mother by making her one of her personal maids. I also worked in the palace until I was old enough to come here to Greystone Abbey. My life is much changed because of my mother's kindness those many years ago. "

Brenna tried to imagine the proud Elizabeth, haughty queen of England, as a humble prisoner in the Tower of London. The thought caused her to shiver. A sudden thought intruded. The queen would be able to recall those terrible feelings of helplessness, and perhaps sympathize with one who suffered such a fate. Brenna felt her hopes rise. Could it be that in the queen, Brenna had found an ally?

Seeing her thoughtful expression, the young servant looked concerned.

"Is there something I have forgotten to do for you, my lady?"

Brenna shook her head.

"Nay. But I am grateful. It would seem that you have inherited your mother's kind and generous spirit."

"Thank you, my lady. My Lord Grey wanted you to know that he would be below stairs with his brother."

"Thank you, Rosamunde." She stood, then hesitated.