The Sable Moon by Nancy Springer Read Free Book Online

question. He did not try again, but he came to see her even more often than before. All his life he had dreamed of finding a friendship such as Hal and Alan shared, or of finding a true love.… But he told himself that this Megan, this homely, comical maid, was nothing more than a diversion to him. He liked to be diverted, and certainly the girl did not mind.
    He was thoughtless, as Brock had feared. Otherwise he might have known how his face floated before her inward eye day and night. He should have known how he inspired her love, he who was the talk of every lass in the countryside. But it must be said that Megan hid her love well. Once she had showed fondness for a youth, and it had driven him away. Brave though he thought her to be, she would not risk showing her heart to the Prince. She fed her soul merely on the sight of him and the memory of his lighthearted words. Sometimes, lying in her bed at night, she silently wept.
    â€œWhen must you be going, lad?” Rafe asked Trevyn one evening at the manor keep.
    â€œTrying to rid yourself of me?” Trevyn retorted. Though he would talk to Meg for hours, he found little enough to say to his kindly host.
    â€œYou know that you’re welcome to stay the rest of your life.” Coming from Rafe, this was not hollow courtesy. “But surely you must be back to Laueroc by Winterfest.”
    â€œThere will be ill cheer at my home this feast-tide,” Trevyn responded sourly. “Nay. I’ll stay a while longer.”
    Rafe gaped, for Trevyn had told him nothing about his troubles with Gwern, or about Hal’s strange behavior, or even about the wolves. But the lord of Lee rose to the occasion with the enthusiasm for which he was famous. “Why, we’ll make a royal festival of it, then!” He rubbed his hands in delight, for Rafe was as eager as a boy when it came to a frolic. “We’ll have a regular carole, with musicians and everything, O Prince, in your honor. It will be just what this poor country place needs for some waking up.”
    Trevyn smiled, knowing quite well that the manor already buzzed with his presence. “I will invite Meg,” he decided.
    Rafe cocked a quizzical eye at him, not knowing what to make of the youth’s friendship with Meg. The girl was odd, folk said, talked with animals as if they were human.… Of course, the Lauerocs spoke with animals, too, and possessed many stranger powers, and no one spoke ill of them.
    â€œNo harm to little Meg, lad,” Rafe asked cautiously, “but why? You could have your pick of many a lass who would do you better credit as a partner.”
    â€œBut Meg makes me laugh,” Trevyn replied.
    When he made his request of Meg she answered as seriously as she had ever spoken to him. “I’d love to, Trev. But I have no dress, and I wouldn’t know how to behave. Ye’d better ask a girl who is better prepared.”
    â€œAct like yourself, and you’ll please me well enough. And as for the dress—” He frowned. Rafe was unmarried, so there was no woman to help him. “It’s not quite proper, I dare say, but will you not let me take care of it?”
    â€œWhat? Make it yerself? Ye’ll prick yer fingers and cry.…”
    â€œNay, nay, little jester, I’ll pay for it! Humor me?”
    â€œI must ask my parents,” Meg said.
    They consented, though not without some argument from the goodman. It took the determined persuasion of both females to get him to agree to the plan. Rafe did not like it much better than Brock.
    â€œHalf the country will say you are betrothed!” he sputtered when Trevyn asked him the name of a dressmaker.
    â€œI dare say worse things could happen.”
    â€œAy! They could say she is your mistress!”
    The dressmaker was a terse, tight-skinned old woman, straight and proud. The manor folk stood in awe of her, saying she had Gypsy blood. When Meg shyly presented herself in