Copyright © 2005, Brenda Nyveld
Published by Whiskey Creek Press LLC

Reviews For LOVE, HONOR AND WHAT? by Brenda Nyveld

Such a complex relationship is difficult to depict on paper, but author Nyveld manages it skillfully. Morgana and Daniel seem like real people, with all their faults and foibles, and the reader just can’t help hoping they will work it out together. The sex scenes between this loving couple are sensual and tender. Willy is a really menacing villain, and he scared the socks off me! There are some violent scenes in this book, but they occur in the context of the story and serve to demonstrate the bad guy’s state of mind. I highly recommend this novel for lovers of romantic suspense!

Reviewed by: Jean 5 Angels

“Do you, Morgana Marie Wyley, take Daniel William Ja-cobson to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The elderly minister’s voice crackled and echoed off the walls of the grand cathedral. “Do you promise to love, honor and obey him...”

“Uh…” Morgana Wyley blinked beneath the opulent sheer fabric of her veil. She waved the bouquet of white roses clutched in her clammy hands. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat that last line for me? I’m not sure I heard it correctly.”

The minister looked disapprovingly over the glasses perched on his nose. Bushy grey eyebrows arched as he cleared his throat and quoted the words again. “Do you promise to love, honor and obey—”

Morgana lifted a perfectly manicured hand. “Yes, that’s what I thought you said. Can I have a minute, please?” She turned to the groom. “Willy, we need to talk.”

He frowned at her. People in the pews whispered. “No,” he hissed. “We’re about to be married in front of four hundred of our closest friends and relatives. I think anything you want to talk about can wait until later.” He turned to the minister. “Please proceed.”

Morgana swiped at the frilly headdress cascading over her face. “No. Willy, I want to talk about this now,” she whis-pered urgently. “Obey wasn’t mentioned during the rehearsal last night. I just want to be clear on it.”

Willy glanced at the crowd behind them. He smiled nervously and spoke to Morgana between clenched teeth. “Can we please have this discussion later?”

Morgana turned to the guests. “I’m sorry,” she spoke to the crowd. Her voice vibrated off the walls of the church. “I just need a minute with the groom.”

Willy moaned his disapproval as Morgana gathered the folds of her elaborate white gown and walked toward the side door. She heard his nervous comment that they would be right back before his expensive leather shoes echoed on the floor in a scurrying motion behind her.

Willy glared at Morgana when he stopped and gently pressed the door closed. “What do you mean by stomping out of our wedding ceremony like that?”

Morgana pressed her fingers against her temples. “There was no mention of my having to obey you at the rehearsal last night. Why is it in the vows today?”

“Now,” Willy said and raised his hands as he always did when Morgana was getting upset over something he consid-ered unimportant. “Don’t get angry about a silly little thing like a single word in our vows.”

“My question is, why was it there?” Morgana demanded. She punctuated each word with a rigid finger in his chest.

“All right,” Willy answered, “I asked the minister to in-clude it. It’s tradition. It really doesn’t mean anything—”

“If it doesn’t mean anything,” Morgana whispered frantic-ally, “why didn’t you include it last night during the re-hearsal?”

Willy sighed as though she were an insolent child. He spoke slowly, drawing each word out. “Because you were al-ready distraught after talking to your father last night,” Willy went on to explain. “I asked the minister to avoid using obey because I had no doubt your father had filled your head with all kinds of foolishness. I’m not oblivious to the fact he’s against this wedding. Your mother has voiced her fears on more than one occasion. Having the word obey included in the ceremony is a tradition in my family. All wives of Jacobson men abide by it. Why is it such a problem for you?”

Morgana pointed an accusing finger at him. “Because I know darn well you’re going to take it to heart and expect me to obey every word you say. I already quit my job. Isn’t that enough for you?”

Willy placed his hands on her shoulders. “Of course, it is. I already told you I appreciate the fact you left your job to de-vote all your time to our marriage. Do you want me to fall at your feet?”

Morgana’s fingers massaged her aching forehead. She never said she would devote all her time to their marriage. “You wanted me to quit my job so I could get more involved in charity work!” she cried.

Willy threw a stressed look over his shoulder and splayed his hands desperately. “Shh, not so loud. Do you want every-one to hear us?”

Morgana was about to scream at the top of her lungs, when her mother pushed through the door. Erma Van Loom closed the door and pressed her back against it. “What on earth is going on in here?”

The woman was pale beneath a heavy layer of makeup. She wore a pea green gown, sequenced with forest green beads. Her mother was calm and cool, accent on cool, for the most part. But at this moment, she appeared on the verge of cardiac arrest.

She glared at her daughter. “Get back out there. Do you really want people to remember your wedding day in this way? Every last guest will forget all the little details of this wedding by tomorrow but they will always remember the bride dragging the groom off to have a discussion in the middle of the ceremony.”

Morgana dropped her bouquet onto the hardwood floor and pushed the frilly veil over her face. “I don’t care what they think—”

“Morgana!” her mother hissed. “You’re going to ruin your veil if you pull at it like that. How many times have I told you today to just leave it alone?”

Erma gasped as Morgana crushed the bouquet on the floor with a frustrated, satin-shoed foot. “Damn you!” she cursed. “Stop telling me what to do! This entire day has been about what other people want!”

“I never should have let your father talk to you last night,” Erma lamented. “I just knew he’d cause trouble the second I heard his voice on the phone.”

Morgana ignored her mother. She turned her attention to Willy. “Do you really intend for me to obey you?”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Willy’s voice rose in spite of Erma’s desperate attempts to quiet him. “I only asked the min-ister to insert the word because it’s been in every wedding vow my family has ever taken.”

Morgana’s ornately frilled dress rustled as she stepped closer to him. “But you fully intend for me to obey you, don’t you?”

“For God’s sake,” Erma cried. “Can’t you have this argu-ment after the wedding?”

“No, Mother. It will be too late then. I want to make sure we’re on level ground here.”

Willy threw up his hands in disgust. “All right! Yes, I do. You’ve been running around doing your own thing for too darn long. Your father had way too much influence on you. You cannot be a so-called free spirit and expect to be in the Ja-cobson family. We have certain expectations. So I asked the minister to include obey for a little extra leverage the next time you go off half-cocked and embarrass me. I know you, Mor-gana, you would…will…honor your vows.”

Morgana’s voice went weak. “I embarrass you?”

“Well, that time you brought that stray dog to my house was not one of your shining moments, I can tell you that,” he replied. “You simply had to parade it around when I was en-tertaining business associates. And things just got worse when the stupid dog jumped in the pool. Honestly, Morgana, who in their right mind would put up with something as immature as that?”

Morgana took a deep breath. “So you don’t want me to bring abandoned animals home?”

Willy chuckled. “Well, yes, for a start. Now, can we please get back out there and continue with the ceremony?”

Morgana nodded numbly as her mother retrieved the bouquet from the floor and shook it out. She pressed it into Morgana’s hands as they followed Willy back into the church. As she and Willy took their place before the altar, he nodded in a silent message for the minister to take up where he had left off.

The old man cleared his throat. “So, now do you promise to love, honor and obey, until death do you part?”

Morgana turned her face up to Willy. She gathered what will she had. Forced herself to go against all she was raised to believe, all she was trained for. She made her very first deci-sion at that very moment.

Morgana Marie Wyley did what she simply had to do to save her life, her identity and what was left of her spirit. She forced a sweet smile and said, “Not in a million years!”

Morgana saw the stunned look on Willy’s face as she tossed her bouquet at him and ran. She was vaguely aware of the guests’ surprised reaction and her mother’s strangled cry as she blindly ran past them.

Acres of white satin floated behind Morgana as she ran full tilt to the doors, pushed them open and dashed through. She landed headlong onto a rock solid chest. Arms circled her waist as her dress billowed in white clouds around her. Mor-gana pushed the veil away from her face and looked up into the rich brown eyes of the man who had caught her.

“Are you here to attend the wedding?” she asked frantic-ally.

“Yes,” he said with a look of uncertainty on his face. “Are you the bride?”

“I was. But now I just want to get out of here. Do you have a car?” Morgana asked.

“Well, yes—”

“Good, get me out of here,” Morgana demanded as she propelled him toward the church steps.

As they descended the stairs, the cathedral doors burst open. Willy and her mother yelled something as Morgana al-lowed the late wedding guest to lead her to his car.

“Hurry!” she cried as he unlocked the passenger door and guided her in. He tried to pick up the billowing train, but quickly gave up and slammed the door closed. He jumped over the hood of the sleek black Mustang, and dove in behind the steering wheel.

As he started the car, he looked over at her. “Where to?”
“Where do you live?” she asked as she pulled at the clips holding her veil in place.

“Near a town named Hunter’s Mills.”

“Good enough for me,” she said as she looked out the window and saw Willy bearing down on them. “Drive!” she cried.

They had made it to the outskirts of the city and beyond when Morgana’s benefactor finally spoke.

“You know,” he said in a rich baritone Morgana hadn’t no-ticed before, “you didn’t really give your escape much thought. You’re in a wedding dress, you don’t have any other clothes, no money and I sincerely hope you’re not on any medication you might have left behind.”

Morgana had shed her veil and opened the pearl buttons at her neck. With her head resting against the headrest of her seat, her eyes were closed tightly. She only moved her head the slightest bit when she answered, “I’m not on any medica-tion, though I wonder if I should be sometimes. And I’ll work something out about money and clothes later. I’ll call my fa-ther when we get to Hunter’s Pass.”

“That’s Hunter’s Mills,” he corrected. “Your father wasn’t at your wedding?”

“No, he wasn’t invited,” Morgana supplied. “Mother didn’t think he’d fit in very well, what with his long hair and hippie lifestyle.” That was putting it mildly. Morgana’s mother not only didn’t acknowledge her father in any way, she did her best to see to it that Morgana didn’t either.

“Didn’t it bother you that your father wouldn’t be there?”

“Of course it did. But Dad’s not into weddings of any sort. And this one, well, let’s just say I didn’t have his bless-ing.”

“Why?” The question was honest enough, but Morgana just wasn’t prepared to answer. Certainly not to a stranger, even though he had saved her from a marriage to the biggest snob in Toronto.

Morgana opened her eyes and peered at the driver of the getaway car. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure.” His voice glided over Morgana like a sweet cloud. “We should introduce ourselves anyway.” With his left hand firmly on the steering wheel, he reached toward her with his right.

Morgana reached forward and felt the warm grasp enve-lope her hand. She pulled her head off the back of the seat and peered at him a little more closely. He was an incredibly hand-some man and Morgana was a little surprised she hadn’t no-ticed before. Perhaps it had a lot to do with the fact she was in a hurry to get away from Willy and impending doom. Still, she had been in the car with this man for almost an hour, and it amazed her that up until this moment, she hadn’t taken so much as a quick glance at him. She could tell he was a tall man as he sat in the driver’s seat beside her. His dark brown hair was swept back over his head in a devil may care manner that worked perfectly well for him. What struck Morgana the most were his vibrant brown eyes, framed by long lashes and accen-tuated by tiny laugh lines. Morgana suddenly understood the term bedroom eyes, as this man’s certainly were a shining exam-ple. His nose was perhaps on the long side but his jaw was strong and lent a classic note to his otherwise boyish good looks. His frame was long, lean and muscular. A man who didn’t shy away from physical labor, she assumed, unlike the groom she’d left behind.

The fact she’d run out of the church and ran away with a complete stranger didn’t cause her any discomfort. She had taken a risk, but looking at the man beside her, she felt com-pletely safe. In fact, the touch of his warm hand caused a stir within her she couldn’t name. It felt warm, enticing and just a little bit wild. All these feelings were alien to her, not to men-tion inappropriate considering the fact she had just run out of her wedding.

She wrote it off as the heady feeling of not only escaping Willy’s grasp, but of also causing the stir she knew would send ripples throughout the Jacobson’s and her mother’s family as well.

“Morgana Marie Wyley,” she supplied as she pulled her hand out of his grasp. “And you are?”

He smiled. “Daniel William Jacobson, at your service.”

Morgana gasped, cold fingers curled around her heart and squeezed. “Is this some kind of joke?” she asked, not really sure if she wanted to leap from a moving vehicle or not.

“Well, Morgana, I can imagine my name would take you by surprise. Willy and I are first cousins. His father and mine are brothers. Hence, the same last name. And I guess Daniel is a popular name in the Jacobson family. Both Willy and I share it as a first name. The only difference is his family used his middle name and mine preferred my first name.”

Morgana eyed him suspiciously. “If you’re Willy’s first cousin, then why haven’t I ever heard of you before?”

Daniel’s laugh was a sweet, rich rumble that caused his muscled chest to ripple in ways Morgana really didn’t want to notice. “My family is what might be considered the ones they never talk about,” he supplied. “My father married a woman not up to Jacobson standards. She was a waitress. An embarrass-ment to the family, I guess.” If Daniel considered himself, or his mother an embarrassment, it certainly didn’t seem to bother him.

“I expect I’ll be in that category now,” she murmured, more to herself than to Daniel. “So why were you invited to my wedding then?”

“Don’t you know?” he asked.

Morgana grimaced. “As a matter of fact, I don’t. My mother took care of everything, with a great deal of input from Willy’s mother, of course. All Willy and I had to do was show up.”

“Well, whoever sent the invitations made a mistake. I can’t imagine why I was invited either. But I do have an uncle named Daniel and I’m guessing the invitation I received was just sent to me in error.”

“There’s another Daniel Jacobson?” Morgana asked in-credulously.

“Yep,” he supplied with a grin. “The name is popular in the Jacobson family. We have an uncle living in New York state. I suspect I got his invitation by mistake.”

Morgana had to ask, “If you knew your invitation was a mistake, why did you come?”

Daniel smiled. “Just curious, I guess. I had to be in To-ronto this weekend on business, so I decided to check it out. If it’s any consolation, I didn’t bring a gift.”

Morgana pressed her head against the headrest. “You know what? I don’t care at all. I’ve seen about enough crystal to last me a lifetime.”

“I don’t know if I should ask this question or not, but here goes. Why did you run out on good old cousin Willy?” Daniel asked.

“Can I store that one with the last question I didn’t want to answer?”

Daniel chuckled. “Ah yes, along with why your father wouldn’t give his blessing. Sure,” he eyed her, “for now any-way.”

Morgana made a valiant attempt to relax. The elaborate dress she wore didn’t allow much in the way of comfort. She trained on the sights along the highway as they sped out of the city. The consequences of what she had just done were begin-ning to sink into her muddled brain. Her mother would be fu-rious, Willy even more so. The embarrassment over her ac-tions would reach far and wide. She imagined her poor mother would have trouble showing her face at the country club for a few days. At least until her equally elitist friends convinced her it was simply not her fault. She would then turn her anger toward her ex-husband, John Wyley. He’d certainly received the brunt of the blame whenever Morgana did anything deemed inappropriate for someone of her so-called standing. Even the stray dog she had brought with her to Willy’s had been blamed on her father. If it hadn’t been for John, Morgana wouldn’t have been such a bleeding heart and would never have brought a stray dog home.

Morgana was four years old when her mother and father divorced. She had almost no memory of her father’s presence as a child, except for the odd weekend her mother would al-low the man to see his daughter. Even those small allotments of time had been viciously fought by her mother. She didn’t want John’s influence on her daughter. The ugly divorce that ensued left her father bitter and her mother married to her lawyer.

Erma had never looked back. She enrolled Morgana in the best private schools, immediately insinuated herself into her new husband’s country club and went to only the finest stores to make her purchases. The struggle with John Wyley to seek out a living was a distant memory. Erma did her best to see to it that Morgana didn’t look back either. But time and time again, her father’s genes peeked through, much to Erma’s cha-grin.

Erma had hand picked Willy for her daughter. Morgana had to admit, she didn’t fight it very much. She thought Willy handsome and quite charming in the beginning.

Morgana knew Willy was a control freak. There was no subtlety about him. He told everyone what he wanted and fully expected to get it. Morgana had never put up a fuss, or at the very least, not much of one. Certainly not a scene like the one she had created only a short time ago. Willy was used to getting what he wanted and it was more than likely, he fully expected she would simply ignore the word. Arguing with the man had always been a fruitless venture; especially when her mother always seemed drawn into it, insisting Morgana simply do what was right...which always translated into what Willy wanted.

Morgana was devastated when Willy took the stray Shel-tie cross dog to the vet and had it put down. He returned later that day with a poodle, insisting the animal suited Morgana’s personality much better than the creature she had dragged home. The poodle had even come named, another decision best left to Willy, apparently. She’d cried all night long over the poor stray dog. If it hadn’t been for her, the dog might well have found a home, somewhere it would have been loved.

Morgana shook her head. Those days were gone now. When she raced out of the church, she officially began the life of an independent woman. Willy would more than likely try to find her and it would be impossible to hide for any length of time. She needed a place to lie low, if only for a few days. She had to figure out how to access her bank account without any identification. She needed money, that was a given. She’d left without as much as a toothbrush.

There was a lot that needed to be sorted out. But the most important thing had already been accomplished—she hadn’t married Willy. At this moment, there were more pressing matters to deal with. It was late afternoon and every fiber of her being was crying out for the caffeine fix she usually had at this time of day. Plus she had to find a bathroom in the very worst way.

“Would you like to stop to get a cup of coffee?” It was as though Daniel could read her mind! “There’s a service center just around the bend.” He pointed ahead of him.

“That would be wonderful,” she told him. “I...need to use the ladies room too, unfortunately.” She glanced down at her attire. She wasn’t looking forward to traipsing across a busy parking lot in her wedding gown.

As the car rounded the bend in the road, Morgana’s eyes lit up. “Oh, they have an Aunt Betty’s Donut Shop! I just love their coffee.”

“Really?” Daniel sounded surprised. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d go to a place like Aunt Betty’s.”

Here we go! Like just about everyone else she knew, Daniel assumed she thought herself too good for a donut shop. “Well, I guess if I can’t have bonbons and imported flavored coffee, I’ll have to settle for the domestic stuff,” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Daniel frowned. “I’m sorry, that was assuming of me.”

“Yes, it was.” Morgana offered a smile. “But I’m willing to let it go since you have gone to a great deal of trouble for me.”

Daniel wiped his brow dramatically. “Phew, I’m relieved. I was sure you were going to stomp out and hitchhike back to the city.”

Morgana smiled. “There isn’t much chance of that. You’re stuck with me at least until we get to Hunter’s Sta-tion.”

Daniel pulled off the highway and into the driveway of the rest stop. “That’s Hunter’s Mills,” he corrected with a grin. “If you’re going to be staying there for awhile, you better get the name right.”

Daniel’s directed his car past the parking lot and toward the back of the buildings. “Where are we going?” Morgana asked.

“Just to the back. There’s an employee bathroom you can use. You won’t be spotted by so many people that way.”

“Umm, how do we know the owner won’t mind my us-ing the employee bathroom?”

Again, Daniel offered that devastating smile. “I’m on pretty good terms with the owner. He won’t mind a bit, trust me.”

When Daniel parked the car, Morgana released her seat-belt and opened the door. She grimaced when she noticed the extra long train had been hanging outside the door. It was torn and dirty as she hoisted it up into her arms. With a long sigh, Morgana attempted to toss some of the long ruffles over her shoulder.

“Do you need a hand?” he asked as he leaned against the hood of his car.

“No,” Morgana replied. “I can manage. Where will I find the restroom?”

“Over there.” Daniel pointed toward a door at the back of the building. “It’s probably not open, but I’ll get the key.”

Daniel left Morgana standing near the restroom door and ran inside. He was back seconds later and unlocked the door for her. “I’m going to get myself some coffee and something to eat. What would you like?”

Morgana carried the folds of her dress through the rest-room door and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was big enough to move around in. She’d need space if she was go-ing to use the toilet while she wore the wedding gown. “Just black coffee, please,” she told him before she closed the door behind her.

Morgana pressed her back against the restroom door. Had she gone mad? If Willy hadn’t inserted obey into their vows, she would be nibbling on their seven course meal right now, looking forward to the reception this evening. For most of her life, Morgana had never been allowed to make a single deci-sion. The one she had made seconds before she ran from the church was more than likely the biggest one she’d ever make in her life. Without someone like her mother or Willy to guide her, Morgana wasn’t sure how well she’d manage on her own. The few times she’d been able to visit her father, John had been extremely frustrated by her lack of ability to make even the simplest decision. When she was a child, she couldn’t even tell him what she wanted for dinner. Often, when he re-turned Morgana to her mother’s house, there would be an-other major argument between her parents. It often ended with Erma insisting John had no idea how to raise a child. Morgana feared every visit with her father would be the last.

At twenty-six, Morgana knew she had a long battle ahead of her. If she wanted to live on her own without anyone taking over her life, she was going to have to learn to make her own decisions. She braced her shoulders and took a deep breath as she studied her reflection. Today she had made a decision that would change her life. Today was the first day of her inde-pendent life. There were good things ahead for her, at least she hoped so. From now on, she was going to decide her own future. From now on, no one was going to tell her what to do!

Morgana peered into the full length mirror. She was a mess, her hair tousled, clips hanging here and there. She pulled at them and then finger combed her hair. It had been curled and coifed perfectly for the wedding. The hair designer her mother had hired complained incessantly about its unruly nature. It had taken almost two hours to get it to behave per-fectly and another half hour to carefully place the ornate crown and veil atop her head. Even Willy had to be instructed on how to lift the veil from Morgana’s face when the vows were said and he kissed her.

Morgana regarded her wedding dress. Her hands ran through the folds of satin ruffles she suddenly realized were as gaudy as the light green dress her mother was wearing that day. She wondered what lay beneath. Somewhere under the yards of pristine white fabric, there lay a sheath that hugged her body closely. She might not know what it looked like, but she felt it against her body. Morgana wrapped her hands around the first swatches of fabric and pulled with all her might.

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