The chair on the left side of her father where Catherine would sit when it was only family was occupied by a large man with dark hair dressed in a velvet tunic with leather trim around the sleeves, neckline, and hem. He wore black breeches and heavy boots that were set firmly under the table. The chair at his side was vacant. Her stomach churned at the idea of sitting so close to the large man during the meal. He probably smelled of horse and sweat, so it was fortunate that she wasn’t hungry. Across the table sat Catherine, her older sister by four years, shyly keeping her head down while she nibbled at her food. Her brother George sat in the next chair beside Cat, and the next was occupied by a stranger. The men filling the remains of the table had to be members of the guest knight’s garrison of warriors. All seats were occupied except the one directly across from Cat. Liz normally sat in the third seat on either side of the table, so this was a step up for her. She wondered why.

Liz stepped into the room and advanced to the table. Silence fell for a moment and then a loud crash of noises filled the room as chairs were scrapped back from the table and some crashed to the floor. Feet stomped and forks and knives rattled onto the plates as the warriors stood at attention at the table. Frightened by the noise, Liz had stumbled back from her chair, which had put her in the path of the chair being shoved back by the man seated beside her father. The chair slammed into her side. Unprepared and off balance, Liz was knocked to the floor. She landed ungracefully on her rump.

“Liz, are you all right?” her father asked from a half-risen position beside the table.

The large dark man had moved swiftly and picked her up into his arms as though she weighed no more than a child’s toy. Wide-eyed, she watched the man’s firm expression as he carried her to his chair and sat her upon the seat. The under vibrations of his masculine voice caused a shiver to shake her body. He was handsome in a mature way. Older men had a certain appeal to Liz that the young men her age didn’t have. There were whiskers beneath his smooth shaven face, and his features were fuller than the narrow features of younger males. She allowed herself to admire older men, because they weren’t interested in a girl.

“I apologize for startling you, milady.”

Liz judged him to be in his late twenties, early thirties.

“Are you all right, dear?” Jane, her mother, asked from across the table with a concerned expression.

“Yes.” She jerked her gaze from the man’s hypnotic green eyes and faced her mother. “Merely surprised.” She looked back and up at the large man, who was just standing there waiting. Confused by his behavior, she glanced at the table and noticed that his plate was full of food. He was waiting for her to move to her chair. Heat rushing to her face had to be staining her cheeks red as she rose from the chair and slipped onto her seat. The warriors sank onto their seats and started eating and talking in hushed whispers. The dark man moved his chair back into place at the table and settled at her side.

“Sir Morgan, my daughter, Elizabeth. Liz, Sir Ethan Morgan and his men will be staying with us for a few days,” William introduced them. Her father’s black hair was starting to go silver around his ears. He was still a strong man, but shorter than Morgan by a good four or five inches. William had fought the campaigns with the king, and now that he was home they were all breathing much easier. Still, William trained for the next battle, and he was training her brothers Phillip and George as well.

“Sir Morgan,” Liz acknowledged the introduction. “I assume you have introduced your men, and I won’t ask you to repeat them now. Perhaps after the meal I can meet them.” She was expected to be polite to the guests, especially as Cat was so shy. Not that Liz minded—she enjoyed meeting new people, and she cared about the feelings of others. She liked to be able to make people feel comfortable. She knew all about feeling out of place and awkward. It was uncomfortable to be the younger sister. Guests had a tendency to treat her as though she were still a child because Cat was unwed.

“They will be honored, Miss Whitestone.”

He had a deep modulated timbre that sounded educated and a courtly manner that was pleasant. She guessed Sir Morgan to be over six three.

“I apologize again that we startled you. I’m afraid it is my fault. I told them to stand when a lady enters the room. I never thought of the disorder their sudden movement in a group could make in a household.” He turned his head toward her mother. “I apologize, Baroness, Baron, it was my error, and my men are not to blame. They were only trying to be polite.”

“It is never wrong for gentlemen to be polite,” Jane said kindly. “There is no need to apologize.”

“Think nothing of it—nothing was injured but my pride, Sir Morgan.” Liz noticed that everyone had continued eating but the knight. “Please continue with your meal. I do not wish to disturb you. I cannot imagine that you eat well when traveling.”

“Are you not eating, Miss Whitestone?” He picked up his fork and took a bite of sausage. He chewed slowly while awaiting her response. He gave her his full attention, as though she was important. It was such a nice thing for a man to do. He was a real gentleman, and she thought that she was going to like him.

“I don’t normally eat an early morning meal.” Her stomach didn’t like food first thing in the morning. It was easier to skip the meal than endure the stomachache when she ate.

“Takes her until luncheon to work up a hunger. I imagine that will change once she is wed,” George said across the table. His words brought a chuckle to the lips of the group of men surrounding the table. Heat burned Liz’s cheeks. She knew enough about marriage to know he was talking about the work that took place during the night in a marriage bed. She couldn’t believe her father would allow George to speak of her in association with the carnal act in a room filled with strange men—she felt totally humiliated. The warriors stopped chuckling abruptly. Liz determined that the knight had given his men a warning look that stopped the snickering.