Page 49 of Forgotten Secrets

“But I swear I am tellin’ ye the truth!”

Willow wiped her hands on a cloth, rubbed her stomach and waddled over to the bed. “Instead of concocting silly stories, you really need to figure out what you’re going to do about Bedivere.” Willow yawned and stretched and lay down on the bed. “After all, I don’t think my father, Uncle Rowen, or your father are going to want an assassin in the family.”

“Willow, dinna tell them about this,” begged Morag. “Please.”

“Morag, they need to know.” Willow turned her head on the pillow and closed her eyes as she continued talking. “I am sure glad I wasn’t the one to marry him. How horrible would that have been?”

“Give me a little more time,” Morag pleaded with her cousin. “I need to figure out what to do. Please dinna say a word about it to anyone until I have a chance to fix things.”

“All right, I will stay quiet for now.” Willow pulled the blanket over her and turned on her side. “But I sincerely think you’ve made a grave mistake, Cousin. There is no way you are going to be able to undo the damage that you’ve already done.”

Chapter 16

“Where is Morag?” Bedivere asked Percival in the great hall the next morning. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday when we returned to the castle in the rain.”

Percival shrugged his shoulders. “I went to her chamber but Lady Willow told me Morag wasn’t coming down for the meal.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked in alarm. “Is she ill?”

“Nay, I don’t think so,” said Percival, reaching over the high table on the raised dais to grab a sweetmeat from the tray. He popped it into his mouth as he spoke. “She looked fine to me. She was standing by the fire, pacing back and forth.”

“I need to talk to her,” he whispered. “I cannot wait another minute.” Bedivere stood up, not waiting for the next course to be served. It was imperative he speak to Morag and he didn’t like the way she’d been ignoring him. She had to already know his secret.

“Sir Bedivere, leaving so soon?” Lord Whitmore leaned over from the other end of the table to see him.

“I have something I need to do,” Bedivere made the excuse.

“Well, then, Lord Rook, I guess I’ll have to keep you company for a while.”

Bedivere stopped in his tracks when he heard Lord Whitmore say this.

“Thank you, Lord Whitmore, I’d like that,” replied Rook. “Mayhap, we can get to know each other better.” Rook tucked a long strand of black hair behind his ear and reached over for more roasted goose.

Bedivere groaned inwardly and sat back down. There was no way he could leave now. If he did, Rook could be dead before he returned.

* * *

Morag staredout the open window, lost in her thoughts, disturbed when there was a knock at the door.

“You really should have a handmaid for things like this,” said Willow, waddling across the floor and pulling open the door. “Sir Bedivere,” she said.

Morag’s heart jumped when she saw Bedivere standing at the door. He looked at her from across the room and the pain in his eyes almost broke Morag’s heart.

“I need to talk to Morag.”

Morag nodded silently to Willow to let him in. Bedivere stepped inside and glanced down at Willow. “Alone, if you please.”

After Morag gave her cousin another nod, Willow answered. “Of course,” she said, glancing nervously back at Morag before heading out the door.

Bedivere stepped inside and closed the door, bolting it behind him. His action scared her, and she now wondered if he had come to kill her. As he made his way toward her, she backed up to the window.

“Dinna touch me or I’ll scream,” she warned him.

He stopped and scowled at her. “I have been trying to talk to you for days and I only bolted the door because I don’t want to be interrupted again.”

“Please, dinna kill me.”

“Kill you?” His eyebrows dipped and he shook his head. “I see Willow spilled my secret after all. It seems no one in your family can keep their mouth shut.”