Midnight for Morgana by Shirley Martin Read Free Book Online Page B

before this day and her departure for the lodge, and later, the prince’s country.
     
    Afraid all the company could see her trepidation, she cut off a bite of succulent ham with raisin sauce, and chewed. Another glance at her father caught him in earnest discussion with the Widow Ahearn, whose husband had died several years ago. Why, it almost looked as if the widow was flirting with him, and he was basking in her attention. Hmm. Something might come of this meeting, and nothing would make her happier than to see her father wed again.
     
    Her glance strayed along the table to all the friends and neighbors she’d known throughout the years, and she wondered how often she would see them again–or if she ever would. She was going to a new country, where she would be obliged to make new friends, if the people there would accept her. And if they didn’t? Ah, but they would, she vowed. She would do everything possible to win their friendship, if not their affection. What about Keir’s parents? Would they accept her? She feared unhappiness would be her fate if they didn’t.
     
    The food grew cold on her plate while she pondered all the obstacles she must surmount, beginning with the approaching night. Not an obstacle, she quickly corrected herself, but a new experience. Yes, that’s how she would think of her wedding night, as an unfamiliar aspect of her new life.
     
    “–eating, Morgana.”
     
    The prince’s words snatched her back to the moment. “I beg your pardon, Prince Keir. I fear my mind was wandering.”
     
    His mouth tightened. “Please remember to call me by my first name, without the title.”
     
    Her face warmed. “Sorry, I forgot, K-Keir.”
     
    He gestured toward her plate. “You don’t appear to be eating much. Is the food not to your liking?”
     
    “Yes, of course, but I have much on my mind–the excitement of the day and . . . and everything.” Gods! Couldn’t she even form a coherent sentence?
     
    He squeezed her hand under the table, his skin warm, his touch comforting. “It’s not every day one gets married, is it? And to a prince,” he added with a self-deprecating grin.
     
     
     
    * * *
     
    Throughout the meal, Keir had kept an eye on his new wife, even while he engaged in conversation with her spoiled sister, Nola or Alana, whichever one she was. Pleased with what he had observed about Morgana so far, he adjusted his thinking about her adjustment to her new life in his country, to living with his mother and father. Perhaps his mother wouldn’t have to teach her much etiquette, after all. Why, yes, she did know what a napkin was for, and indeed, showed impeccable table manners. But the question remained: how would she take to life at his castle? Was he taking a country bumpkin home with him, one who knew nothing about royal protocol? Just look at her house! Not a hovel, exactly, but not a castle, either. Malcolm’s admonition came back to haunt him, that he should learn humility. But he was a prince of the realm, after all, and Morgana the daughter of a penniless lord.
     
    At the same time, his heart went out to her. How lovely she looked in her wedding gown, a faint scent wafting from her, a fragrance vaguely familiar, camomile, perhaps. Surely, his wife was beset by uncertainties, this lady who was leaving her family and all that she knew to reside in an alien land with its different customs, among strangers who he feared might not accept her. It was obvious, too, that she was anxious about the coming night and equally apparent that she was a virgin. A sudden wave of protectiveness seized him, and he vowed he’d be gentle and patient with her this night.
     
    He’d be glad when this interminable feast ended, he thought as he took the last bite of his sweet potato. They needed to start early on the morrow to reach the lodge before nightfall. Since Malcolm had already left, there would be only Morgana, Ferris, and he.
     
    The feast ended with the wedding cake, and