Have you read the story of Morgan, from the Esperance Series?
I wrote her into a small part in the very first book of the series, Jareth, First Lord. Later, I got to thinking about her and my mind started wandering. And while it wandered, I came up with her story, which I decided to share with my readers.
Morgan was originally from Clan Belfort, but volunteered to come to Brannach as part of the The Choosing in the first book. In trying to escape the abuse in one clan, she was sexually assaulted not long after she relocated to her new clan.
Since that time, she has been off men. Every man she’s ever known has hurt her in one way or another and she’s having no more of it.
But what about James?
James Ferguson was one of the men who came to her rescue when she was assaulted. Even though she was battered, bruised and covered in dirt, it was love at first sight. But he’s been biding his time since the trial to give her a little breathing room before he asks her out.
But she always has an excuse as to why she can’t come out with him. Not even for a cup of tea across the street at lunchtime.
How about an excerpt?
MORGAN–The Pixie and the Green Man
“Could I coax you out of here for lunch today?” he asked. How could his eyes have so much sparkle? And that smile was so warm and inviting.
“I don’t know, James. I’m not particularly social. Maybe another time.”
Not to be deterred, he asked, “What about dinner after work? You have to eat sometime. We could go to the little place across the square. It’s small and not crowded, but the food is good.”
“Maybe not today, but thank you for asking.”
He seemed really nice, but she was terrified.
“Are you sure? They have roast chicken worth killing for.”
“Isn’t that normally worth dying for?” she asked.
“Yes, but I’m not planning to die any time soon.”
Even Morgan had to laugh at this.
“I’m sorry, James. I just can’t.”
“Oh, well. Can’t blame a guy for asking. I’ll see you later,” he said as he waved goodbye.
“Morgan? Was that James again?”
Great. Now she’d have to explain it all again.
James became a regular customer and every time he came in, he asked Morgan to lunch, to dinner, or for tea. And each time, she gently refused.
About three weeks after she’d first spoken with him, she looked through the front window and saw him carrying a tray across the square. With a content nonchalance, and a warm smile on his face, he seemed happy to be alive.
As she watched, he pushed the market door open, walked over to one of the tables in the front, and put down the tray he’d carried in. He turned, smiled brightly at her, and strode to the counter.
“Now, I’ve brought a pot of tea, two cups, milk, sweetener, and scones—complete with whipped honey. Will you join me, Morgan? I scarcely ever bite and I never draw blood.”
Morgan felt her eyes widen and her cheeks flush. She stared up into the sparkling green eyes of this charming man, who was trying so hard to be friendly, while her mouth hung open with nothing to say.
“Morgan,” she heard from the back. “We can take care of things while you have some tea. It’s fine.”
James walked to the end of the counter and offered her his arm. In a daze, she went over to the table and slid carefully into the chair he held for her.
“I’m afraid I asked about you across the way,” he said as he poured tea. “They told me this was your favorite tea, and that you love scones with honey.”
The lightly lavender-scented tea was indeed her favorite and smelled wonderful. There were days when she would fight for a scone.
“They spoke the truth,” she told him, still too timid to meet his eyes.
She quietly sipped at the tea he’d brought and enjoyed the scones. He didn’t press her for conversation, but every time she glanced up, she saw those green eyes twinkle and the smile broaden.
As they tidied up the table, he asked, “So, will you share a meal with me one day?”
“I don’t know, James. Maybe.”
“Have I done something to offend you, Morgan?”
“Why do you want to go out with me?” she demanded in frustration. “There are plenty of girls in the clan.”
He stared at her for a moment before he said, “But they don’t have your beautiful smile.”
“No, seriously. Why ask me out, damaged goods and all, when there are other girls you could ask? Pretty girls.”
“Damaged goods? You’re not damaged goods. And you’re a pretty girl. Yes, there are other pretty girls in the clan, but you have a sparkle they don’t have. Unless I’m trying to take you out and then you shut down. Now what do you say?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it.”
“Tell me where you would feel comfortable. I’m not fussy. Ask my mother. I’ll eat damned near anything.”
For some reason, Morgan found this amusing and began to laugh, something that didn’t happen often.
“And you’ve got a lovely laugh, too. You should set it free more often.”
“I’ll think about it, James. I will.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he answered, with a teasing grin on his face. “I’ll talk to you later.
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