Midnight for Morgana (8 page)

“Oh, but we will. We promise.” Alana covered her mouth and yawned. “We were so sleepy last night, we overslept this morning.” She looked around. “Where’s the prince?”

Morgana swallowed a spoonful of oatmeal, finding it crunchy and sweet. “He and Ferris have gone hunting. Let’s hope they find game, else we will have but little to eat for our mid-day meal, aside from a few dried vegetables and potatoes I saw in the pantry. Might make a tasty soup.”

“Oh, I’m sure the prince will catch game.” Nola winked. “He appears to be a man of many talents.” She and Alana exchanged suggestive smiles, and Morgana found herself blushing, much to her chagrin.

Needing time to herself, Morgana hurried through the meal and drained her tea mug. Finished with her breakfast, she placed the dishes in an iron tub on the wooden counter and poured boiling water over them to let them soak, then made her way to the bedchamber to fetch a cloak. The lodge had a fine vegetable garden far to the back, and now was a good time to work among the plants, to pull weeds and see if any vegetables were ready for picking.

Eager to view the ocean and the waves that washed up to the cliffs, Morgana postponed her work in the garden and left by the front door, following the brick walkway that led to a rocky path that ran from east to west, the east side ending by the cliffs, about a half-mile walk. The air remained cool outside but the sun shone brightly. The grass and leaves wafted in the breeze that blew her hair from her face and molded her dress to her body. The sky was a clear blue, with a few cottony clouds floating overhead. A lone sea gull glided overhead, looking for all the world like a white sail, its ee-awk cry echoing across the distance. Another sea gull came to stand a few feet away from her as she reached the bluff, waiting for a snack, and she regretted she had nothing to give him. Next time, she told herself. Deep green wooded hills rose in all directions except here in the east, where rocky cliffs met the ocean. Standing on the cliff, she breathed in the salty air and watched the white-tipped waves crash over the rocks below. She spotted a whale farther out in the water and recalled that these sea animals often came right up to the cliffs.

A sudden wish claimed her, that she could live here with Keir at the lodge, that they could stay here forever in her own country, close to her father and friends in Dornach. Just as quickly, she chided herself for her foolish desire. Keir had his family and his duties at the castle in Glennamin. He was heir to the throne, the future king! Who was she to deprive him of his home and family, to even think for one minute that they could make their home here in this humble lodge?

Sighing, she retraced her steps and followed the path that led to the garden farther in back, where a profusion of vegetables and berry bushes welcomed her. Sorry she didn’t have garden gloves, she sank down on the cold ground and began to pull weeds, catching the fragrance of soil and fresh fruit. She worked among the carrots and other vegetables, brushing large green worms from the tomatoes, noting with delight that rhubarb grew among the rest, for rhubarb pie was one of her favorites. Lettuce, kale, and endive presented a medley of greens and a promise of plentiful vegetables for meals. Raspberry and strawberry bushes flourished here, too, and fruit trees bordered this garden that stretched for over an acre, the cherries and apples waiting to be picked. She stopped to think for a minute; she assumed the caretakers picked the fruit and vegetables but considered it wouldn’t hurt to visit them sometime during her stay here to see what further arrangements she should make for the care of the lodge and its grounds.

Time passed as she labored, the air becoming warmer, or did it just seem so because of her work here? Seeing steps within her peripheral vision, she looked up to see Alana approach.

Alana stopped in front of her. “What are you doing out here by yourself for so long?”

What does it look like? Morgana was tempted to reply, but stifled her sarcasm. “The garden is so full of weeds, I thought I would pull them, give the plants room to grow.”

Alana moved closer, and her cloak caught on a thorn bush, the fabric tearing. She made a face. “Oh, look, my new cloak! A large rip, too.” She pouted and stamped her foot. “Now it’s ruined, and it’s so cold out here.”

Morgana stood and untied her cloak. “Here, take mine. I’m quite warm now from working in the garden. Besides, I think I’ll check if the prince and Ferris have returned. Didn’t see the horses, but you never can tell. And can’t see the stable from here.” 

“Why, thank you for lending me your cloak.” Alana shed her wrap and tossed it to the ground, then donned Morgana’s.

* * *

After Morgana left to go back inside, Alana walked along the path that led to the front and continued on to the cliffs overlooking the ocean. Gritting her teeth, she stared out to sea.

How she hated her sister, this woman who had found a husband before her or Nola. Fury burned inside her, strong and deep, and she knew Nola felt the same. Between the two of them, they had decided to kill Morgana, their reason for accompanying her to this ugly lodge. And to think their stupid sister believed that they wanted to help her. Gods, I hate her. I wish I could have killed her in the garden.  She and Nola must be patient, for surely their chance would come soon to do away with Morgana. She fisted her hands, wishing she could strangle the woman. But how would they accomplish the deed?  Her stomach knotted as she seethed with jealousy and vengeance. She forced herself to be patient, to wait for the right time to kill their hated sister.

* * *

Leaving by the front door, Nola didn’t see Morgana return from the garden through the back door. I hate her, she fumed, this no good sister now wed to a prince. Off in the distance, she saw someone–Morgana?–standing by the cliffs, staring out to the ocean. Silently, she moved along the path, seeing that yes, it was Morgana. She recognized the bitch’s cloak whipping in the wind. As she moved closer, loathing and jealousy swelled inside her, ready to erupt. Now was her chance! Morgana had her back to her, and if she–Nola–approached slowly but quietly, one hard shove would send her to her death.

One step, then another. Now! Nola rushed forward and shoved with all her might. Screaming, her sister plunged down the cliff, her body hitting the rocks, then toppling into the ocean.

Nola breathed deeply, smiling with venomous satisfaction. There!  It was done! Just wait ‘til she told Alana that their reviled sister was dead. They wouldn’t have to put up with Morgana anymore.

And where was Alana? she wondered as she headed back to the lodge. She hadn’t seen her since breakfast but assumed she must have gone for a walk. Well, no matter. Soon enough, she’d tell Alana that their sister was dead.

Reaching the house, she opened the front door and saw the prince with a woman in his arms.

Gods, no! Morgana!

Chapter
Six

Morgana drew away from her husband’s arms. “Where is our sister Alana? I haven’t seen her since I worked in the garden. She tore her cloak on a bush so I lent her mine.”

A stricken look crossed Nola’s face. “A . . . a messenger came to say that our father was taken ill, so she left for home to tend to him.”

“What messenger? I never saw a messenger.” Morgana exchanged a worried look with Keir.

“Nola met him on the road that connects with our path. He carried a message from Lady Ahearn who wrote that Papa was ill.”

Morgana sank onto the sofa, trying to take all this in. Keir joined her and placed a comforting arm around her waist. “Then we should all leave for home,” she said, “if Papa is sick.”  She looked up at Nola. “What is the nature of his illness, did the message say?”

Nola hesitated, increasing Morgana’s worries. “Nothing serious, I understand, but Alana thought it best to go home to take care of him.”

Uneasiness stirred inside Morgana. “Without telling us first? Leaving for home, just like that?”

“Well, she told me.”  Nola drew herself up straight, appearing more confident now. “She asked me to tell you and the prince. At the time, the prince was hunting, and you were working in the garden. She didn’t see the need to make a big fuss over it.”

Keir glanced up. “But all the horses are stalled. I would have noticed if one was missing when Ferris and I returned from hunting.”

“Oh! Would you believe that a man and his wife were driving by in their carriage just then. They offered to take her with them since they were going to Dornach. Our sister didn’t want to ride alone, and, as they were leaving then, she departed at the same time.”

Morgana exchanged another puzzled look with Keir but could think of no more arguments, except to press her concern about their father’s illness. “And Lady Ahearn said in her note that Papa’s illness wasn’t serious?”

“Yes! Isn’t that what I just said? I wish I had the note to show you, but Alana took it with her.”  She smoothed the wrinkles in her dress.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to my bedchamber to change my clothes.”

As Nola stalked out of the parlor, Morgana turned a confused face toward Keir. “Doesn’t her whole story sound strange to you?”

Keir clasped her hand, his voice low and husky. “Darling, let’s take her word for it. We have no reason to doubt her.  If we don’t hear anymore within a couple days or so, I’ll send Ferris back to Dornach to see how your father fares.”

A rush of affection for her new husband swelled inside Morgana. In spite of her anxiety about her father, her gaze covered his face, and she took in all the features that meant so much to her, his brown eyes, so dark they were almost black, his straight nose and firm mouth. His chestnut hair had a natural wave and was windblown now, since he’d recently come in from outside.

     “You would do that for me?” .

He kissed her on the tip of the nose. “For you, anything.”

She wished she could stay with him here in the parlor, or better yet, spend the afternoon with him in their bedchamber. But duties occupied her mind, prompting her to stand. “Best I see about our evening meal now.”

He stood, too, and cupped her face in his hands. “You are not to prepare any more meals, nor do any housework. It’s not your job to do any such thing. I’ll send Ferris to the woman you say helps tend to the house and hire her to cook and clean for us.” Releasing her, he headed for the front door and turned her way. “You say she lives near here?”

Morgana nodded. “About one mile west. Frame cottage with a thatched roof. Lilac bushes and a willow tree in front.” 

“Very well. Ferris should be done grooming the horses by now. I’ll send him to fetch the woman.”  He opened the door, letting a gust of cool air into the room, walking out to a day that was quickly becoming overcast.

After he left, Morgana thought about her relationship with her new husband, whom she’d known for such a short time, yet it seemed as if she’d known him forever.  Could she be falling in love with him already? She had heard about love at first sight and had always considered the concept a foolish one, certainly nothing that would ever happen to her. Of course, that wasn’t truly the case with Keir, for she had experienced such anxiety upon first meeting him, that she had felt a terrible misgiving, a fear that she could never measure up to his expectations. But if his lovemaking was any indication–and surely it was–he felt more than just a casual interest in her. She smiled in recollection of their wedding night, a time when he had initiated her into the joys of the marriage bed, when his sensual needs had seemed well nigh insatiable. Yet at the same time, he had been tender and considerate with her, such a skilled and wonderful lover that she knew she could never spend the rest of her life without his lovemaking. 

Panic seized her as she recalled she still had to meet his parents and the rest of his family, still must adust to life in his kingdom. I can do it, she vowed with a newfound confidence, for if she had earned Keir’s affection and respect, certainly that was a good start, and surely his family would eventually accept her. Smoothing her hand across the leather sofa cushion, she thought further about his country and reminded herself to ask him more about its customs, something she should have done earlier, if their courtship and wedding had not happened so quickly.

A short while later, she heard her husband’s footsteps outside the parlor, and he opened the door with a rush of cool air as he stepped inside. He joined her on the sofa, smelling of tobacco and the outdoors, his trousers hugging his muscular legs.