A Stranger's Touch

‘And who the hell are you?’ Captain Bird demanded, bristling at his interference. ‘This is between me and Mistress Morgan. Stay out of my business.’

‘Forgive me, but when I see a lady being molested it becomes my business.’ The stranger glared at him. ‘I suggest you get on your horse and leave now—before I teach you a lesson you’ll regret.’

Captain Bird stared at him, then looked at Morwenna resentfully. ‘I don’t know who he is, but your brother has promised me I can have you if I can get you and you’ll be sorry for this.’

‘Michael would never force me to wed you or anyone else.’ Morwenna lifted her head proudly.

His face a mask of fury, Captain Bird walked to his horse, mounted, then rode off without glancing back. Morwenna breathed deeply, shaking and clearly distressed until the stranger put out his hand to touch her. She flinched away, as if she’d been stung.

‘I’m not going to seduce you,’ he said, smiling wryly. ‘I’m not like that insensitive oaf. Last night I was tempted, though, when you fell into my arms.’

‘I tripped.’

‘Did you? Yes, I suppose you did, though it seemed to me that you were not exactly averse to finding yourself there.’

‘It was foolish of me. I was upset and … I shan’t deny I liked being kissed by you,’ she said, putting her chin up. ‘It gets lonely here when I hardly ever see anyone other than my brothers. Perhaps I shall go to my aunt—though she may not welcome me. She was not kind to my mother.’

‘If I could help you, Morwenna.’ He moved closer to her, his eyes intent on her face. ‘Believe me, I am not your enemy. If ever I could be of service to you I would—without asking for anything in return.’

‘I’m not sure that would work,’ she replied, but she was smiling now, because there was something about him that reached out to her. ‘I think you know I like you more than I ought.’

‘Believe me, I like you too, far more than is good for me. I shouldn’t let my feelings interfere with my search.’ He hesitated, then, ‘I need to discover who I am and why I came to this part of the Cornish coast.’

Morwenna looked at him intently. ‘You gave Bess a gold coin … there was no need. You should keep what you have until you knowwhere you came from. That money may be all you have in the world.’

‘I dare say I can earn my living with my paints and crayons.’

‘Are you’re certain you can draw now?’

‘I proved it last night. I drew pictures of your brother and Bess. My work made them smile and Jacques has asked me to draw a picture of a house in the village as a gift for a friend. I am going to meet him and the owner now.’

‘I’ll walk a part of the way with you,’ she said and wondered why she was so pleased to meet him like this. It wasn’t just because he’d saved her from an unpleasant incident with Captain Bird. She ought to ignore him, to do all she could to make him move on, leave her house and the district, but somehow, all she wanted was to be with him. The memory of his kiss was melting her insides, making her long to be back in his arms. Yet she recalled Captain Bird’s warning about strangers from London—could this man be one of those sent to investigate Michael Morgan?

And what was Michael doing that the militiaman thought so dangerous? What business other than smuggling was her elder brother engaged in now?

She had known for a while that Michael was hiding something from them. He had always been secretive, but mostly the smuggling was an open secret within the house—this other work was different.

Could it have something to do with the signals on the beach the previous night? And where had her brother gone?

‘I’ll be travelling to London in a few days,’ the stranger said, breaking into her thoughts. ‘If you wanted, I would take you with me. You’d be safer travelling with me than alone and I could take you to your aunt’s house. If you stay here, your amorous friend might try to seduce you again and next time you may not have anyone around to help.’

‘He wouldn’t hurt me. Michael would kill him first.’ Morwenna turned her thoughtful gaze on him. ‘Why should you do that for me? Take me with you to London? I might be a burden to you, if you are still searching for your own life, your memories.’

‘You saved my life. If escorting you to London would help you, I should be happy to be of service, Morwenna.’

The way he spoke her name sent little spirals of sensation winging through her body. She turned her face aside, not wanting him to see how he affected her, because her need mustn’t show. It was a chance for a different life and something told her if she accepted his offer she would never get to her aunt’s house. If she gave into this feeling, this roaring heat she felt between them, she would end by becoming his mistress. She could feel the physical pull between them and knew that he was feeling it too.

Would it be so very bad? At least she would know a little happiness. She might see a different kind of life for a while, but in time he would tire of her and then she would be alone, unable to return to her old life. Her aunt would never take her in if she’d been this man’s lover. Yet it might be worth the risk to know what happiness was like just for a while.

‘Perhaps,’ she said and risked a look at his face. ‘I shall think about it.’

‘I should like to draw a likeness of you,’ he said, surprising her. ‘Would you meet me on the cliffs later this afternoon, after I’ve been to your brother’s friend’s house?’

‘Why on the cliffs?’

‘Because it’s how I see you, standing there looking out to sea, the wind in your hair and blowing your cloak about you. You are very beautiful, Morwenna—did you know that?’ She shook her head and he smiled. ‘Given the right clothes you would be a sensation at court.’

‘Do you often visit the court?’

‘I think perhaps I have in the past,’ he replied and his gaze slid away from hers. ‘I am beginning to remember a few things. I think my family has a house in the country, but spends time in London—and if they are of any consequence, therefore, at court.’

‘You do not seem the kind of man who would come here simply to sketch the views,’ Morwenna said. ‘I wish I knew who you really were and why you were here.’

‘I mean you no harm, believe me.’

She lifted her eyes to his. There was sincerity in his voice but his eyes were shadowed by doubts. She sensed that there were things he would not tell her, things in his past, perhaps, but what of his reason for being here?

‘What of my brothers? What do you mean for them?’

‘Why do you fear for them? Why should you think I might seek to harm them?’

‘What makes you think I do?’

‘You are defensive about them, as though you think they may be in trouble—or danger. I believe you care for them and particularly Jacques?’

‘Jacques is the closest to me, but I would not see harm come to Michael. He is not always kind, but he is my brother—at least, my half-brother. My father married again after his first wife died and I sometimes think that Michael resents me because of it.’

‘But you are close to Jacques?’