Time was hard to tell. She thought she had been here for hours, but it could’ve been less than an hour. The sky didn’t change its hue, and the coldness that crept into her bones didn’t get any warmer. She shivered, and waited for morning, when this tradition would be fulfilled. And she could get on with her life.
What a silly tradition, she thought wanly. What a silly thing for a woman to have to do. Oh, well, it is what they want.
She peered into the mist. Part of her hoped that something would happen. It would break the monotony of her life. It would soothe the boredom that sometimes threatened her. But nothing came. She just waited, and shivered, and stared. And then she waited some more.
“Morning will be here soon,” she muttered, reassuring herself. “Morning, and rest.”
&
There was no rest for Elias Taylor. He and his crew had sailed north, far north, and now they were lost in this blasted storm. “Fix those leaks!” the captain roared above the gale. “Taylor, get on them!”
Elias, mason-turned-carpenter-turned-general-craftsman, ran across the decks and leapt down the stairs to below decks. All around him, his shipmates were tying things down. The last thing you wanted in a storm was things rolling about, tipping the balance. Fish flew all over the deck, where it hadn’t been properly packed. Cases rocked from their bindings and crashed into the wood. Elias ignored all this and began patching the leaks, working quickly, expertly. He lost himself in his work. He patched, and patched, carrying his tool case around with him. He stopped the ship’s boy and sent him scuttling for supplies, and then continued with his work.
After a long time – Elias couldn’t say how long – the storm quieted. Elias climbed above decks. The captain slapped him on the arm. “Good man,” he said. “She didn’t sink this time.”
“Aye, captain.”
“Taylor,” the captain said, as he was about turn.
“Aye, captain?”
“Take a rowboat and go to yonder isle, will you? I want to see if there are people there.”
“Why me—”
The captain pulled him close. “You know why,” he whispered. “You’re the only man I can trust on this vessel. You’re the only learned, upstanding man. You can read. That seems like magic to most of these men. Come on, do me a favor, please.”
“And if there are people there?”
“A place to dock.” The captain slapped his forehead. “Look for a place to dock, first. If there is a place to dock, row back and tell us. We’ll rest up there. If there is no place to dock, but there are people, see if you can’twrangle some food out of them. I’m getting tired of fish and bread.”
“Aye, captain,” Elias said. In truth, he was looking forward for a chance to get out of the ship for a few hours. He had been locked up here for months. He was beginning to go a little sea-crazy. He had joined the Swan because his family was in ruin. He was the eldest son, and he needed to make his own way. Father had gasped in shock when he told him he was going to take on as a carpenter. He’d been a sculptor, and when his art couldn’t support him, a stone-mason. Father had not even known that he’d been secretly studying carpentry all the while. “I’ll leave presently.”
A rowboat was lowered for him, the anchor was set, and Elias climbed into it. The captain was an eccentric man, but the sky had cleared as though the heavens had opened, the wind had died, and the morning sun was just beginning to show on the horizon, lighting the sea a dull orange.
He began to row, checking his direction every so often, for the small isle in the distance.
*****
The storm had stopped suddenly. Now the morning sun was beginning to show. Lollie hadn’t guessed that it was morning. She must have fallen asleep. Her clothes were soaked through, and she was shivering. Father should be here soon to collect her, though the tradition was that the woman stay until just before midday, so she had some time yet. At least she didn’t have to contend with the elements anymore. She rose to her feet and began jumping up and down on the spot, forcing life back into her stiff, cold limbs. She was looking away for the isle when she saw him: a lone man rowing toward her.
She squinted, unsure of what she was seeing, and realized that her first assessment had been correct. In the water there was a man – alone – rowing before her. Lollie felt a lurch within her. This had to be part of the legend, the kelpie. It had to be. She couldn’t see what the man looked like, but it hardly mattered. She waited for him to approach. He looked up, started, and then adjusted his course. He was a strong-looking man, with sandy blonde hair and a wild-man beard. His arms were ripped with muscle and his shirt showed the very top of his muscular chest.
He stopped beside the rock and looked up at her from the row boat. “My lady,” he said, “is there something wrong? Why are you up there all alone?”
Lollie did not know how to reply to this. She assumed that anyone who the kelpie sent would know why she was up there. She hadn’t foreseen the need for an explanation. “It is the tradition,” she said. The man looked no less confused. “Of the kelpie,” she went on. “Didn’t it send you?”
The man shook his head. “I don’t know anything about that, my lady,” he said. “But you look awfully cold and hungry. May I come up, and we can see to that?”
“Please, do,” Lollie said, without thinking. The thought of warmth and food pushed all other concerns aside. She wasravenously hungry, and thirsty. Her belly grumbled at her as the man tied his boat and climbed up Finger Rock.
He stood over her and then looked around. “Are you hurt?” he said.
“No,” Lollie replied. “I’m quite well. Except for the cold, and the food, and the water.”
The man grinned. “Care to give an explanation, my lady? It is no everyday one finds a lady upon the rocks. Some of my more superstitious shipmates would take you for a siren.”
“It is tradition,” she said. “I live over there.” She pointed to Karankay. “On our isle, when woman come of marriageable age, they sit upon Finger Rock for one night. It is meant to bring good fortune with the opposite sex.”
The man laughed. “My,” he said. “I am sorry for laughing. But—my. That is some tradition. A dangerous tradition, at that.What would possess a perfectly sane woman to sit upon a rock in the middle of a storm? I apologize, I am from England. I did not mean to insult your customs.”
“So the kelpie did not send you?” Lollie was beginning to realize how foolish she sounded.
“I’m afraid not,” the man said. “I work as a carpenter of the Swan. It is anchored a few miles to the west. My captain sent me out here to see if I could see anything. May I sit?”
She nodded, and the man sat upon the rock next to her. He hefted a bag from inside a blanket and laid it upon the rock. Form it he took some kindling, a half-loaf of bread, and a jug of water. He ripped the bread in half and handed the bigger half to her. Lollie took it eagerly from his hands and ripped it apart with her teeth. It tasted like heaven. She didn’t even care that it was stale and hard. She chewed it apart as a starving woman, and then drank desperately from the jug of the water.
“My name is Elias Taylor,” the man said, as he set the kindling.
“LollieMcArkam.”
He nodded, and then began to rub at the kindling. In a moment, a small fire started. He took dry wood from his bag and laid it upon the fire. Then he arranged some rocks around it, to shelter the nascent flame. In a few minutes, warmth bloomed through Lollie’s body. Her clothes began to dry, and she felt like return to her. She wiped her face and smiled. “It is amazing what food, water, and warmth can do. Thank you, Elias.”
&
She was clearly not versed in high-society decorum. She had used his Christian name without asking. And she seemed to think nothing of it. But it didn’t offend him. If anything, he found it endearing. He had experienced his fair share
of high society, with ladies who bowed and scraped before him. And then cast him aside when Father had lost his inheritance.
“You are welcome, Lollie,” he said.
She had bright ginger hair and freckles upon her face. Her limbs were long and lithe, and looked strong. Her breasts were small and pert, showing slightly through her soaked shirt. She smiled at him, which made her all the more beautiful. Elias felt lust rise within him. He hadn’t seen a woman in eight months, let alone a woman so wildly beautiful.
“That is quite a tradition,” he said, meaning to distract himself from his lustful thoughts.
“Yes,” she said, finishing the last of her bread. “It is. Da says that the villagers think it’s important, so I have to do it. Ma said the same, before she died of the cold. I never thought much of it.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “There are women who sit on this rock and then get hit by their husbands. How is that for magic?”
Elias laughed, and she laughed with him. “I admit, I never expected to find a lone lady when I rowed this way.”
“Well, here I am,” she said, spreading her arms. “For a moment I thought the kelpie had really sent you. Hmm, maybe he did, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it a coincidence that the storm stopped just as you rowed this way?”
“I was rowing this way because the storm stopped, Lollie.”
“Aye, but who stopped the storm? Maybe it was the kelpie.”
Elias laughed. “Maybe.”
“You think it’s funny!” she cried, slapping his arm.
“It is just that a moment ago you were disbelieving it, and now you are entertaining the possibility.”
“Why can’t I do both?” she said. “Just because I think it’s silly, it doesn’t mean it might not be true.”
Elias nodded. “Okay, then.”
“You think me a fool?”
“No,” Elias said. “You live here and you speak English. You are no fool.”
“Oh, that,” she said, in her deep Scottish accent. Oh, tha’.“Da spent some time in England when he was younger. He taught me when I was a girl. Said I should know how to speak it, because you ruled half the world. Weren’t happy about it, but taught me all the same. I haven’t had reason to speak it for a long time though.”
Elias didn’t know what to say next. If he had been in a drawing-room, he could’ve discussed some scandal or other. But here, with this woman, all of that was stripped away. It was just her and him, with nothing in between. He could not stop looking at her breasts. He knew it was wrong. He was no brute. And yet he could not. Her eyes were earth-brown. Everything about her spoke of nature. It was as though a long-dead demigoddess had risen from the ocean to greet him.
She smiled at him, and then averted her eyes. “I’m having a bad thought,” she said.
“What kind of bad thought?” Elias said. His throat was dry. He sipped from the jug of water. His heart pounded in his ears. “Lollie?”
“I can’t say,” she said. “You’ll have to come closer, so I can whisper it in your ear.”
Elias leaned in, and then Lollie touched his face and kissed him upon the lips. Lust woke within him instantly, a deep, dormant lust. He felt like no man at all, but a primitive version of himself. He was not a lord; he was just an animal. And so was Lollie. Their lips pressed together, their teeth clacked, and their tongues danced.
He fell upon her, and she fell backwards, opening herself for him. What happened next was so full of passion and heat that he had trouble recalling it afterwards. When it was done, he lay upon the rock, breathing heavily.
“I—” He stopped; there were no words to describe it.
“I know.” Lollie kissed his chest. “I know, Elias.”
*****
Lollie felt a pang in her heart when Elias sailed away, but she knew it had to be done. He had his ship to return to, and Lollie had her isle to return to. Elias had been gone for about an hour when Father rowed to the isle and helped her into the boat. “I hope it weren’t too bad,” he said.
“It was okay, Da,” Lollie said.
“Any magic?”
“Oh, a little.”
“Can I ask what?”
“No, it’s women’s business.”
Father nodded at that. Finger Rock was solely the realm of women. Men were now allowed to ask about it, or even step foot upon it longer than to help their daughters onto it. When Lollie returned home, and returned to the normal routine of her life, she felt fulfilled and happy for a long time. She threw herself into her chores with a zeal Father had never seen before, and was content with the mountains, and the spring sun that started to make the sea sparkled in the morning.
Winter turned to spring, and spring began to turn to summer when Lollie looked down at the bump under her shirt. Elias had given her a child. She rubbed her belly with love, and smiled at the child within. The kelpie had brought her love.
“Who’s the Da, Lollie?” Father asked.
He had asked this many times. Before now, Lollie had pushed the question away. Father was no like other men. He would not grow murderous because she had a child within her. He simply wanted to know. It was important to know who the father was, to see what sort of child would be produced. Lollie sighed and leaned back in the chair. Father walked deeper into the room and slumped down in a chair opposite her.
“Lollie, tell me. I’m not mad.”
“I know you’re not, Father.”
I just want to keep it to myself. I want it to be my secret. I don’t want to share it with anybody else. It was a magical time and I want to keep it secret and safe forever.But she had to tell him, because he would never stop asking. She told him from start to finish, only brushing over the lovemaking because that was not something you talked to Father about. When she finished, Father nodded and stood up.
“He sounds like a nice man,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “He offered you food and water and warmth, aye? Aye, a nice man alright. Don’t tell the other women, though, mind. Let them think what they will. If they knew that a regular man – a lord from England, by the sounds of it – had been on Finger Rock, they wouldn’t be too happy.”
“I know, Da,” Lollie said. “I’ll keep it secret.”
“Good girl. Does it feel like a girl or a boy?”
Lollie touched her belly. It was like magic was happening with her. The baby had started to kick. The baby was desperate to come out and play with Mother. “I don’t know,” Lollie laughed. “We’ll have to wait and see, Da.”
“Do you think the Englishman will ever return?” Father said.
Lollie shrugged. “I have no idea.”
*****
Six years passed, but Elias Taylor never forgot that magical morning upon the rocks. He returned to England and became wandering stone-mason, fixing church roofs and the walls of homesteads. Father had all but disowned him. It seemed that nobody had told the man that the Taylor family was in ruin: that they could no longer afford to be supercilious. Father still appeared at social functions, looking hungry for acceptance. Elias wanted nothing to do with that. He had accepted his lot.
But that morning…
It sang out in his dreams. Lollie, her name was. LollieMcArkam. He had never told anybody about it. It was his secret, his refuge from the world. Whenever he was feeling wretched, he would conjure it up in his mind to push away the demons. It was like an elixir. It was wonderfully effective at pushing away depression. He hadn’t been with another woman since then. He would never be with another woman again. For what could compare with the magical morning upon the rocks?
Six years of wandering, and working, and dwelling upon the past. Before he knew it, he was nine-and-twenty. He did not live in one single place. He became half-wild. His courtroom training fell away. He began to fe
el like thousands in England must’ve felt: just another stone-mason. But it didn’t bother him. The collapse of his position did not haunt him, as it would others. He had that memory, always. Always, he had Lollie. Oftentimes he thought of her, imagined what she was doing now, but he never made any effort to find out. The memory was enough—until it wasn’t.
A wealthy lord was looking to expand his fishing operation in Scotland. He had heard that Elias was a master stone-mason, and wished to employ him to build a lighthouse. Elias, upon entering the lord’s office, did not think for a moment that this would connect him with that magical morning. He entered the lord’s office with no more thought that completing a job.
But then the lord described the job, described the location. It was unmistakable. He was describing the place where he had met Lollie. Elias fell back into the chair, and the lord started. He asked him if something was wrong. Elias denied it vehemently. He was quite well. And then he accepted the job. The lord was pleased, and paid for his travel north.
So it happened that six years later, Elias Taylor was moving up through England, through Scotland, up, up, north, north, to the focus of his dreams. Lollie had spoken of the kelpie, some mystical force which commanded the rock. She had said something about it being the reason they were drawn together. Hitherto, Elias had pushed that aside. It was foolish nonsense. But now he thought upon it once more.
What were the chances that this would be his situation? What were the chances that providence would contrive to throw them together once more? Perhaps there was something more in this kelpie than he had imagined. Perhaps fate was really pushing them together.
*****
Lollie named her child Freddie. She had always liked that name. As a baby, Freddie was the wildest little creature Lollie had ever laid eyes upon. He would scream all night long, claw at her for attention, and pull her hair whenever he felt like it. And she loved him more than anything. Not much changed in Karankay, and Freddie grew up on the small fishing boat with his grandfather, and running amongst the mountains with the other children. The women of the village did not question where the child had come from. All assumed the kelpie had sent her some luck. The men might’ve suspected something else. But their wives kept them in check. And Lollie did not allow gossip to affect her. She was too occupied with loving her child.
Romance: Detective Romance: A Vicious Affair (Victorian Regency Intrigue 19th England Romance) (Historical Mystery Detective Romance) Page 35