Sisters Three (Completed)

10. Morna (1/2)

Daylight meant stiffness and a sore throat to Morna and she didn't want to open her eyes to invite it in. She rolled onto her side, pulling the covers to her ears and waiting a few more minutes before finally blinking awake to the sight of the view out the window in her bedroom. She no longer shared with Brenna and that meant sleeping in a smaller room at the front of the house. The lake out back was close enough to keep the sickness at bay, but she didn't have to keep her gaze off it any time she was in her room. She only had the lawn and part of the front drive, and there was nothing to worry about with that.

Morna pressed up and kicked off the blankets. She didn't remember getting into her nightgown, or even anything after Brenna had wrapped her in a hug on the lakeshore. There was a vague memory of someone—Afton?—carrying her indoors, but it felt too blurry and choppy for her to trust. From the daylight peeking through her window she guessed it was the morning after. Morna's stomach growled loudly and she was suddenly glad that she was able to feel hunger again. It meant she wasn't under the thumb of the water.

The wardrobe was in a state, dresses and slips thrown everywhere and her drawers hanging open. If she didn't know better she'd think someone had robbed her. Well, someone had robbed her in a way. Brenna must have come for that blue dress she'd asked about the day before, and decided that she'd look for it in the messiest way possible. Morna sighed heavily and briefly tidied up before dressing in a plain shift and lacing up a pair of boots. She left her hair down since it was still faintly wet from the lake water and she didn't have the strength or patience to tame it.

The smell of breakfast met her nose as she stepped out from her room and bounced down the stairs. Bacon, toast, eggs... their scent led her down the winding halls to the tucked away dining room. She opened the door with anticipation, already imagining filling her belly, but stopped dead-short when she saw the men sitting at one end of the table.

Robert Glenfarrow lounged at the head, his legs crossed to one side and his hand idly tracing patterns on the wood. Next to him sat his elder son, Robbin, who didn't even bother looking up when she entered. Afton, however, graced her with a smile and stood to pull out the chair next to Brenna for her. Morna blushed and quickly slid in place.

"We were just talking about you, dear," Aunt Nora said, primly stabbing a piece of bacon and offering it to her yipping dog.

"Oh?" Morna asked. Her attention was more on the plate of bacon just across the table from her. It glistened and smelled like heaven, but it also required her to ask Robbin if he could pass it to her. So she made do with dry toast and the last egg.

"Afton Glenfarrow wanted to know if you were all right. He had to leave for the inn before we had you settled for the night."

Morna cast a darting glance in Afton's direction. He watched her, but not in any particularly strange way. So far it looked as if he really did believe she'd only fallen into the lake, or perhaps been stupid enough to try and swim it. From his concerned but ultimately plain gaze, she didn't detect any suspicion coming from him. Her secret might be safe.

"I'm feeling much better this morning, thank you," Morna said to the general room. She bit into a piece of toast and chewed vigorously to stave off any more questions.

Unfortunately, Aunt Nora wasn't so easily dissuaded. Her aunt picked up the barking dog, patted its head and took a sip of tea before placing Morna back in her sights. "Lord Robert wondered if you might benefit from learning to swim."

True, she didn't have the faintest idea how to swim, but floating in a pond while learning seemed about the worst idea Morna could think of. When a cloth-bath was enough to stir the call in her breast, a swimming lesson would more than likely end exactly how yesterday evening had-- with someone dredging her from the depths and everyone wondering what exactly was wrong with her. She didn't exactly want to tempt fate that a Glenfarrow would be near enough to rescue her in time, either. All in all, thank you very much, but she'd rather give the lake a wide berth instead.

Of course, she couldn't say that, so she smiled faintly and nodded in Robert Glenfarrow's direction. "Oh, thank you, but I think I might be put off water for a while." A near truth.

"I was only concerned for if you fell in, or perhaps any boats you might be in capsize," Robert Glenfarrow said. His voice was deep and accented.

"Boats are not my favorite form of transportation," Morna said. "I prefer horses."

"Like your sister," Afton said. Morna looked at him and almost laughed. Brenna? Horses? If her sister had shown any interest in a horse it was always a war-horse, and Morna knew she'd never let any eligible young man know that she found the massive beasts interesting. It was much more ladylike to appreciate the dainty riding horses, and Morna was fair certain that Afton would not have been permitted by Brenna to know the truth.

"Oh, yes," Brenna cut in. "Yesterday, Afton introduced me to Duke Tyber. He owns some fine specimens of Anjeluund mounts. Did you know Anjeluund has the most gorgeous horses, Morna?"

Even before she could reply, Morna felt a sharp kick to her shin and had to hide the grimace behind a stiff smile. "No, I didn't. That's so interesting."

Brenna ignored Morna and turned to speak to Afton. "Maybe you could bring some to show us next time you visit Ittal."

The conversation then began on the merits of different breeds, and though Afton looked genuine in his enthusiasm, Morna knew Brenna too well to not miss the way she drummed her fingers on her leg and occasionally let her smile slip just slightly. Brenna was made for fast talk about fast things, and this was decidedly out of her comfort zone. Morna, however, actually found something interesting in Afton's tales about Quar racing horses and the large horses that the Amilla used for farming, but only a few seconds into the conversation she became aware of Aunt Perta none-too-subtly trying to catch her attention with furtive waving.

Morna raised an eyebrow to serve as a question, and Aunt Perta began to jerk her chin to the left. Morna followed the line with her eyes and was met with the stern gaze of Robbin Glenfarrow. Mercifully, up until that point, she had failed to realize he sat directly opposite her at the table. Now that she knew, she felt self-concious and a bit flushed. He barely paid her attention except when she stared at him too long, and even then he merely glanced at her and nodded before turning back to talk to his father.

Aunt Perta took up her signaling again, wiggling her eyebrows, clearing her throat, and making it uncomfortably clear that she wanted Morna to talk to Robbin. Morna was going to ignore her aunt, but then Robert Glenfarrow caught a glimpse of one of Aunt Perta's more vigorous gestures and he began to stare with a peculiar expression on his face. This left Morna with no choice, and swallowing her nerves she positioned a bright smile on her face and reached for her goblet to try and capture Robbin's attention.

Her fingers brushed his knuckles and he glanced her way. She charged in. "I don't think we've been properly introduced," she said, quavering a little at the blank wall his features presented. "I'm Morna."

"Robbin," he said. He must have realized he wasn't being the best guest and tacked on, "I'm glad that you weren't harmed yesterday. Irrigation ponds shouldn't be placed so near to households where there are members who can't swim."

"They put it there for me," she said before she thought about it. She clamped her lips closed when she thought about how that might sound to someone outside of the family. And, sure enough, he took the unintentional bait.

"Oh? Why is that?" At the very least, his blank expression was replaced with one of interest, though it did little to ease the intensity of his energy.

Morna floundered for something that would sound reasonable without coming close to her secret. Her mind flittered between half formed sentences and she blurted out the first thing that made sense. "I enjoy the water fowl immensely. If the lake was too far back I wouldn't be able to see the egret and its family during the spring."

Robbin raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his wine. What he must think of her! To him she'd just said that she'd had a drowning hazard built in their backyard so she could observe birds from inside. A more doltish thing she doubted she'd ever said. And so unbearably vapid, he must think she was one step away from a potato.

"Well, maybe you should consider a fence around the perimeter," he said. "Who knows if any more maidens who can't swim might try to test the waters."

Morna blushed furiously at his jab, and he turned his head back to his father, signaling the end of the conversation. She glanced at Aunt Perta who nodded encouragingly, as if she thought that had gone smoothly. Morna buried her shame in dry toast.