Sisters Three (Completed)

18. Morna (1/2)

Afton sat across the table and down a few chairs so that Morna had a perfect and clear view of him all throughout dinner. The grouse the men had shot that morning were on the table as the main course and, over the rather fantastical presentation, Morna watched as Afton talked with his neighbors and sipped his wine every so often. She felt stupid thinking it, but somehow the casualness of the way Afton drank sent her heart sputtering. He glanced over the lip of glass and caught her eye. A smile ran crookedly across his lips before he turned back to his conversation. Morna quickly took her own drink before someone could notice the flush rising to her cheeks.

Aunt Nora offered Morna a slice of bread, which she took automatically. She dunked it thoughtlessly in her soup, still staring at Afton across the grouse. He must have felt her gaze once again, for he glanced her way and gave her another smile. She wanted to return it, but her lips would only tentatively turn up at the corners. He looked away first when his father caught his attention with a wave of his hand, and Morna pretended as if she had always been absorbed with the sight of her soggy bread.

Morna had no idea what would happen with Afton, but she knew that he had been in her thoughts constantly since they'd returned from the garden. He felt like a new piece of herself, something she wanted to examine from every angle. Yet when she did she also felt the old loyalty to her sister rebelling against her new passions. Could she really kiss Afton when she knew her sister had her heart set on winning him? It felt like treason to think it, but she thought she could. Brenna didn't want him for him, she merely wanted the crown, and it wouldn't be right to decide who Afton was to marry and who he wasn't. If he liked Morna, then Morna wouldn't be the one to tell him he had to like Brenna.

With this new decision came a little rush of defiance, lifting Morna's chin and letting her flash a smile at Afton. He couldn't do much but nod his head since his father was talking to him, so Morna focused her attention on her side of the table. Her aunts sat on either side of her, and Brenna sat beside Aunt Perta. For whatever reason Robbin Glenfarrow had decided to sit near them as well, and he looked absolutely dour. He never touched a morsel of his food and downed goblet after goblet of ale. Brenna looked nervous at his side, her eyes furtively seeking out Robert whenever she thought he wasn't looking. Morna sensed something between her sister and Afton's father, but she couldn't figure out what it was—only that they did not like each other.

Aunt Nora brought up some banal subject which Morna participated in without really knowing what she was saying. She was too busy keeping an eye on her sister, who fidgeted with her food and whispered sharply to Robbin when he accepted his fifth cup of ale. He'd be thoroughly drunk by this time, and Morna pitied her sister for having to sit so close to him. She knew her aunts and Brenna had planned for Morna to wed him, but his actions now just added more weight to her dislike for him. He was not vulgar or rude, only dark and restless. Just looking at him she felt a sense of energy pent up to a breaking point just beneath his surface. She didn't want to be anywhere near him when he snapped.

While she watched Robbin and Brenna, she saw Afton lean forward out of the corner of her eye. His father was now talking to a noblewoman to his left, which left Afton and Morna unobserved by a Glenfarrow for at least a few seconds.

"Are you enjoying the fruits of our hunt?" Afton asked.

Morna grinned and waved her fork in the air, a piece of the grouse on the tip. She popped it in her mouth and nodded thoughtfully. "I think this one must be yours," she said. "It tastes divine."

"I didn't actually shoot any," Afton said. "Not the best shot in the world."

"Well, I like you all the better for it," Morna replied. "You didn't kill an innocent little bird, that's nothing to be ashamed of."

Afton glanced toward his father and then leaned a bit closer to Morna. They still had a scattered amount of nobles between them, not to mention the table, but it felt as if they were alone. "Do you want to accompany me on a walk again?" he asked.

Morna nearly choked on her food as her eagerness made her quick to blurt out an affirmative. Afton grinned and sat back in his chair, just before his father began to talk to him again. Morna bunched her hands in her lap and squeezed them as hard as she could to substitute for the bout of laughter she couldn't display during dinner.

It perhaps wasn't ladylike to think it, but Morna knew another walk with Afton meant more kissing. She felt the last one still buzzing on her lips and she burned for another to replace it. She only had to figure out how to go with him without Brenna coming along. Her aunts surely wouldn't care which niece went to Afton, since either one would bring them the same amount of station, but her sister would not take kindly to Morna's walks. She'd have to sneak out during the night, maybe, when she knew Brenna would be asleep—

Robbin's chair broke through the gentle waves of conversation like a gunshot. Everyone turned to stare at his swaying form looming above them, his hand steadying himself on the table. Brenna, sitting to his left, covered her face with a hand and ducked her head. Robbin waved a hand to silence the room, though they were already quiet.