by Ruth Langan
“A ship…” Darcy covered her mouth with her hand.
“I was in flames with it. My flesh was on fire as I sank beneath the waves. Then I was swimming until I could no longer move. There was a compelling reason why I kept pushing myself toward shore, though it’s lost to me now. I recall lying in the shallows, thinking I would drown. Hoping I would, because the pain was so unbearable. Then strong arms lifted me from the water and dumped me into a cart. I remember each bump and rut in the road causing such pain. Then the movement halted, and I was carried into a darkened room that smelled of stale whiskey and unwashed bodies. Later there was screaming and shouting, and the acrid smell of burning wood. And then only silence.”
Darcy was looking at him with a look of astonishment. “Do you realize what this means, Gryf?”
He nodded. “It could mean that I wasn’t burned in the tavern fire as I’d first believed. I may have been taken there after having been burned somewhere else. Likely on the ship I saw in that first sudden flash of memory.”
“Oh, Gryf.” Her smile bloomed. “This is what I’d dreamed of. Hoped for. If we can find proof that you were aboard the Carrington…”
“I know what you’re thinking, Darcy. But there’s more. And it has me deeply concerned. It won’t make you nearly as happy as that other memory.”
“More?” At the tone of his voice her smile faded. She had a quick slice of fear.
“Aye. I was excited about this bit of memory, no matter how brief. And I was agitated as well, I suppose, trying to remember more. Perhaps that’s why my sleep was disturbed. But early this morning, just before I awoke, I had another small flash of memory.”
Darcy caught his hands. “Tell me about it.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think you’ll want to hear it.”
Again she felt the quick rush of fear. Again she had to shrug it aside. “I want to hear, Gryf. I need to. No matter how painful.”
He took a deep breath and turned his back on her to walk to the window, where he kept his face averted. “I was battling a fierce storm. As I neared shore I carried a little girl in my arms. There were people around us, but I continued carrying the girl until we lay in front of a warm fire, where she fell asleep in my arms.”
He turned to her with a bleak look. Seeing the way she’d begun weeping, he closed his eyes against the pain. “You see, Darcy? It’s the very thing I most feared. It probably means that I have a daughter somewhere. A daughter who is still grieving for her lost father.”
Darcy’s tears continued, which only added to his burden. “You see? This is the very thing I never wanted to do to you. Even on the most important day of our lives, on a day when we should be gloriously happy, my past is intruding. I remember a daughter, and on the day when we ought to be wed, I must instead break your heart.”
“Nay, Gryf. That isn’t why I weep.” She crossed the room and caught his hands in hers. “These are tears of joy.” Her voice caught in her throat. “Listen to me. I know who that girl is. The girl in your memory.”
“You know her?”
“Aye.” She took in a long, deep breath. “It was me.”
“You? Darcy…” He began to shake his head in denial.
“Gryf, the scene you recalled happened when I was five and you were ten and three. You saved me from a storm, and carried me home. And from that day on, you were my beloved hero. Oh, my darling. Don’t you see? This tiny bit of memory proves beyond a doubt that you’re my own Gray. I’d always thought so in my heart. But now I have absolutely no doubt that it’s so.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“You recall something that happened to me when I was five. And you recall a ship’s fire, that claimed the lives of most of your shipmates. I can’t believe this is mere coincidence.”
He closed his eyes a moment, trying to clear his thoughts. When he opened them, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Can it be? Can it be true that my past is slowly returning?”
“Oh, Gryf.” Her tears were coming faster now, and she didn’t bother to hide them. “I believe in my heart that you are my Gray. My first love. And my last.”
“And there’s no reason why we shouldn’t wed?”
“None at all.”
He stared down at her. “If all of this be true, what name should I use for my vows?”
Despite the tears in Darcy’s eyes, her smile was radiant. “It matters not to me, my darling. Gray was the boy I’ve loved for a lifetime. But Gryf is the man I love now. And will love for all time.”
They both looked up as Geoffrey Lambert paused in the doorway. “In case the two of you haven’t noticed, the music has started, and the vicar awaits the happy couple. But before you start up the aisle, there’s a young lad out here who’s been waiting impatiently to see you.”
Whit stood in the doorway, looking stiff and awkward in the new suit Mistress Coffey had made for him. His shaggy red hair had been neatly trimmed, and his new shoes were polished to a high shine. From inside his coat a yellow head poked its way out to stare around uncertainly.
For the space of a heartbeat all the lad could do was stare at Darcy. Finally, his voice trembling slightly, he whispered, “You look more beautiful than a queen.”
She dimpled. “Thank you. And you look as handsome as any prince, Whit.”
“Will I…” He tried again, swallowing back his nerves. “Will I have to say anything?”
Gryf shook his head. “Not a thing. But you will have to keep Fearless tucked inside your coat. If he should get loose, the vicar will have your head.”
“Aye.” Darcy laughed. “Not to mention Mistress Coffey, who will be mortified.”
“I’ll keep him quiet.” Whit took a halting step closer. “When do I become…” He took a deep breath. “When do we become a family?” There. He’d said the word aloud. A word that both elated and terrified him.
Darcy opened her arms and drew him close, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “We’re already a family, Whit.”
“You mean I can call you Mama and Papa?”
Darcy felt the sting of tears. When had she become such a crybaby? “Aye, Whit. We’d be honored if you choose to call us that.”
“Come on, son.” Gryf caught the boy’s hand. “I think it’s time we got up to the altar and made it official.” He leaned forward to brush his lips over Darcy’s, before turning to her grandfather. “Darcy has something to tell you, sir.”
The two men shook hands, then Gryf and the lad hurried out.
The old man turned to her with a puzzled frown. “What’s this, lass? Tears?”
“Aye, Grandpapa. But they’re happy tears.” Darcy put her hand on her grandfather’s arm and walked with him from the knave into the aisle.
She could see Gryf and Whit standing at the altar, waiting for her. With a rush of words she turned to her grandfather and told him of Gryf’s flash of memory.
“Ah, lass.” He closed a hand over hers. “This is the answer to all our prayers.”
“Aye. Oh, Grandpapa. What a grand wedding gift I’ve been given this day. This man is the other half of my heart and soul. And now that he’s come back to me, I’m whole again. And so happy, Grandpapa. So very, very happy. “
As they started up the aisle, she remembered the words Gray had whispered on that day so very long ago. I promised your father I’d always look out for you, Darcy, no matter what.
She closed her eyes and whispered, “Oh, Papa. No man has ever worked so hard, or sacrificed so much, to keep a promise.”
Aye. He’d gone through the fires of hell and back. But he’d kept the promise made to a man when he was a mere lad. And, she vowed as she placed her hand in his, and spoke the words that would make them one, she would do no less. For he was her hero, her lover, her one true love. The man who had always owned her heart.
A love like theirs was destined to last for all eternity.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-5983-9
THE SEA SPRITE
Copyright © 2001
by Ruth Ryan Langan
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† Texas Series
* The Highland Series
** The Jewels of Texas
§ The O’Neil Saga
‡ Sirens of the Sea