Highland Heather - Highland Heather Part 86
Library

Highland Heather Part 86

Morgan came awake slowly, as if from a long, drugging sleep. Sunlight streaming through the balcony windows stabbed at his eyes and he had to blink several times before he could bear the light. He glanced around the suite of rooms that had been his since boyhood. The familiar surroundings brought him comfort.

He felt a stirring beside him on the bed and turned his head. Even that slight movement sent pain crashing through him.

Brenna lay curled on her side, facing him. He drank in the sight of her.

Bits and pieces of his tormented dreams still clouded his mind. In each of them, his beloved Brenna had suffered at the hands of demons.

He studied her carefully. Except for a dressing on her arm, she seemed unharmed.

He watched as her lids flickered, then opened. At the sight of him a smile touched her lips, animating all her features.

"At last you have returned to me." She knelt and placed a hand on his forehead, then gave an audible sigh.

"Oh, my beloved." She felt her lips tremble as tears filled her eyes.

During the long days and nights of her silent vigil she had held all her dark fears at bay. Now, when the danger was over, she gave in to a bout of weeping.

"I was so afraid I would lose you."

"How could I give up my life now, when there is so much to live for?"

Morgan drew her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her, offering her his quiet strength.

That was how the queen and her servants found them. Flustered, Brenna tried to draw away, but Morgan caught her hand, forcing her to stay by his side.

"So, my friend," Elizabeth said as she strode across the room and paused beside his bed.

"You have rejoined the living. Your wounds were grave. You had us all alarmed. But Brenna never gave up."

With a tender smile Morgan turned to the woman beside him.

"When my physician insisted upon bleeding you, Brenna chased him from your chambers and took over your complete care."

At that, Morgan threw back his head and roared.

"You dismissed the queen's own physician?"

"You had already lost too much blood. I feared if he had his way you would have no blood left."

"The lady is truly your champion," Elizabeth said.

"She has not left your side. She even took her meals here in your chambers.

Such devotion is rare indeed. "

At the queen's praise, Morgan watched the color rise to Brenna's cheeks.

"And you, Majesty?" Morgan studied the queen.

"Are you unscathed?"

"Aye. Thanks to you and the Scotswoman. And to show your queen's gratitude," Elizabeth said regally, "there will be a ceremony here in the abbey as soon as you are strong enough. You and Richard will receive your country's highest honor. And Brenna MacAlpin may ask any favor from a grateful queen."

"That is not necessary, Majesty. It is reward enough to know that you are unharmed."

"It is my desire that all of England will know of your brave deeds."

Elizabeth touched a hand to Morgan's cheek, and Brenna was certain that she saw tears in the queen's eyes.

"Rest now, my brave rogue," Elizabeth murmured. With a rustle of skirts she was gone.

Morgan stood in a small antechamber of the abbey, awaiting Brenna's arrival. Rosamunde had insisted that she be allowed to fuss over her mistress's hair and clothing before the ceremony. After all, it was not every day that the titled lords and ladies of the realm came to the humble abbey at Grey- stone to bask in the presence of their queen.

Morgan moved to the door and peered at the crowd of beautifully dressed men and women. How ironic, he thought, that they should come here this day to honor him and his brother. He would have much preferred the simple gratitude of his queen. But Elizabeth had insisted upon this ceremony. He and Richard would be knighted here in the abbey of Greystone.

The original abbey had been built nearly two hundred years earlier.

When one of his ancestors had successfully defended the monks against an attack, his reward from a grateful king had been a gift of the abbey and all the surrounding villages.

Morgan thought about the many ancestors whose blood flowed through his veins. How many battles they had fought. How many victories they had enjoyed. But the sweetest victory of all, he knew, was the victory of the heart. With Brenna at his side, he could do anything. Without her. He thought about all the bleak years when he had hardened his heart against love. Brenna had been the one to unlock the door, freeing him to love again.

He heard the trumpets blare and knew that the queen had arrived.

Opening the door, he watched as Elizabeth moved along the center aisle, lifting her hand in a blessing as she walked toward the altar.

The women curtsied, the men bowed as she passed.

When she was seated upon her throne, she signaled for the ceremony to begin. Morgan glanced toward the rear of the abbey and saw Richard seated in his chair. With quick steps he joined him.

"Sir Morgan," Richard said, winking at him.

"Aye, Sir Richard." Morgan clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, then stepped behind the chair and began to push.

Together the two men moved up the center aisle toward their smiling queen.

The ceremony was brief and moving. Elizabeth cited her two noble warriors for risking their own lives for the life of the queen. With gleaming sword she touched their shoulders and spoke the words that would forever set them apart from other men. They were exalted knights, whose glorious deeds would be recorded for posterity.

A hush fell over the crowd and Morgan turned expectantly. He saw Brenna standing at the back of the abbey. As she began to move up the aisle, he thought again about the woman who had refused to leave him until his wounds were completely mended. Day and night she had stayed by his side, tending him, ministering to him with that same quiet dignity he had come to love.

He watched her now, looking every bit as regal as the woman who sat upon the throne. No one in this assembly would believe that she could fight like a wildcat and wield a sword like a soldier. Nor would they believe how the woman could love.

He felt a warm glow. Last night their lovemaking had taken on a fierce, passionate nature that had left him breathless.

Brenna bowed low before the queen, then lifted her head.

"Brenna MacAlpin," Elizabeth said in tones that carried throughout the abbey.

"Though not a citizen of this land, you risked your life so that I may live. I proclaim to all assembled that a grateful queen offers to grant your most fervent desire."