☩Sadly, the age of gallantry seems to be dead☩ Attn: Mordred & Sagramore

[magicalskeptic]

The Wayfaring Mare has few protective structures.  The grounds are open for anyone who wishes to trespass as the gate is more decorative than functional.  It is something Morgana wishes to change in the future but as her focus was, at first, getting the inn fitted for guests, then the party, and the main house being secure, it means that any plans

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[northseaflotsam]

He turns up punctually, neat and sober in his grey sweater and jeans, his black hair (so much like Morgana's own) ruffled by the wind. A few paces away from her he halts, and bows, without a trace of irony. "Lady?"

[magicalskeptic]

Morgana stays seated. It's rude, but she'll justify her behaviour by her half-grown kitten being settled on her lap. She's can't quite bring herself to respond in kind to him.

"Mordred. I presume you are curious as to the circumstances regarding my note."

At least she leaves off any comment on whether or not he provided Miss Ross with a gratuity.

[northseaflotsam]

A little quirk of the mouth. "If I admit to wanting to know, you're just as likely not to tell me, aren't you? So perhaps I'll let that pass."

[magicalskeptic]

In the past, this would have been the case, so it does not make confiding in him even easier.

"He is still recovering, yet he finds himself in town, and incapable of making his way back to his cottage without assistance. He is," she is tempted to say behaving like a fool, which is accurate, but Morgana will not use that term with Mordred. "Not assisting in his own recovery. When I threatened to inform you, he did not believe I would."

It is at this point she does stand, collecting Veda in her arms, though the cat isn't thrilled with being disturbed. "My concern for him overcomes my dislike of you."