by Emma Hamm
“She loves you,” Etain whispered against his shoulder. “Loves you more than any woman has a right to love. Love like that is dangerous, Manus.”
“Only if I leave her.”
“I’ve seen it before. Seen someone love another so hard that their soul leaks a little bit every time they see that other person. It drains them, turns them into dust.”
He leaned back enough to stare into her eyes. “What are you trying to say?”
“You gotta love her back, or she’s going to turn into dust too.”
“I love her more than anything.”
“More than the sea?”
The question burned. It made his heart hurt and his head spin. “I can’t answer that, Etain.”
“Someday you’re going to have to.”
He would, and it wasn’t a conversation he relished having. That kind of love terrified him, because Etain was right. The love they shared was powerful, dangerous, dark, and it consumed him.
Manus wasn’t the same person he used to be. He saw her and something in him melted. He wanted to touch her hair, stroke her cheek, drag her into his arms and never let her go. But that meant putting her in danger, because he couldn’t let go of the sea either.
Had he forgotten how to breathe? He sucked in air, but he couldn’t seem to fill his lungs.
Etain stepped back from his arms. “She went for a walk, if you’re looking for her.”
“She went — what?” He shook his head. “She can’t go for a walk, it’s nighttime.”
“We all go for walks in the nighttime.”
He swore. “Not her. She doesn’t go outside without me or one of the footmen.”
“Why not? You can’t turn her into a captive, if she wants go outside, she should be able to.”
“Because outside is dangerous.” He spun on his heel and stomped towards the front door. “If she gets hurt, it’s on your head.”
“Why are you so protective over this girl, Manus?”
He whirled, jabbing a finger through the air and pointing at her. “Do you remember the first time you saw a girl? Not the ones we grew up with, but the ones who walked the streets with bows in their hair and smiles on their faces? The innocent ones, the ones who never saw the things we saw. You remember those girls?”
“Of course I do.”
“She’s one of them. She doesn’t know the kind of things we’ve had to do to stay alive. She’s never seen the gutters, never felt a man pawing at her without permission, never saw her mother trying to drink herself into oblivion. She hasn’t watched someone die because food was scarce or simply because they didn’t want to live this life anymore.” He wiped a shaking hand over his mouth. “She’s pure, lily white, and glowing like the goddamned northern star. She’s all I have, and I won’t see her sullied.”
He raced out the door, the chilly air penetrating through his linen shirt. He didn’t stop for a jacket. Fear sent him sprinting from the manor and frantically searching for her.
Where would she have gone? The sea?
His heart stopped. She wouldn’t have gone to the ocean, would she? Even Saoirse wasn’t foolish enough to tempt her own safety. She knew the merrow men could crawl out of the ocean and steal her away. She shouldn’t even be close to the water.
Manus couldn’t think straight. He didn’t know where to begin searching for her until he looked up the hill and saw her. Far away but standing on the edge of the cliff with her skirts whipping around her ankles.
She looked like an angel standing up there. So far away from him, yet he knew every detail of her face without being able to see her. He knew the soft curve of her waist, the tiny curl near her ear which always curled in the opposite direction from the others, the dimple on her cheek which only appeared late at night when she was tired.
Gods how she made his chest ache.
It would take him a few minutes to get to her, but Saoirse wasn’t moving. She held her arms wrapped around herself and stared off into the distance. He frowned.
She was staring at the sea.
“Damned woman,” he muttered. She was always staring at the water and he knew what that meant. He’d heard the stories of sailors with merrow wives who disappeared one night, never to return. He couldn’t lose her. He didn’t know what he’d do if she left his life forever.
He glanced up at her form again and paused when he saw the male figure walking towards her. At first, he thought it was that damned leprechaun. The faerie was always showing up at the wrong time.
But then he realized the man was obviously trying to be quiet as he approached.
Manus had never felt such fear as when the man raced forward and grabbed Saoirse by the shoulders, whirled her around, and shook her hard enough to rattle her.
He didn’t shout for the man to stop, he didn’t need to. Manus sprinted towards them. A silent, dark shadow that streaked through the night as though the faeries had given him wings.
His fist flew out, catching the man in the jaw and knocking him to the ground. The thief spat out a wad of blood. He bounced up to his feet a little too quickly and threw a punch of his own.
Manus’s breath whooshed out, the man’s meaty fist catching him firmly in the stomach. But it gave him the opportunity he needed. Air wasn’t required to charge forward, wrap his arm around the man’s waist and wrestle him onto the ground.
He straddled the man, slamming his fist into whatever flesh he could find. Face, shoulders, neck, anything.
This thief had dared to touch his wife.
His wife.
“Manus!” Saoirse’s voice broke through the red haze of his vision. “Manus enough, let him go!”
His hands were aching, swelling already around bruised bones and blood streaked knuckles. The slight moment of hesitation was all the other man needed to drag himself away and run.
Manus leaned back on his heels, breathing hard and watching the man’s quick retreat. This was why he hadn’t wanted her alone. This place was dangerous, even in the richest parts.
“Manus?”
Her voice splintered something inside him. A ragged breath tore through him and he snatched her arm. He probably tugged on her too hard, she fell against his chest with a gasp.
“Are you all right?” He traced her body with his hands, over and over again. “Did he hurt you? Did he touch you anywhere other than your shoulders?”
“Manus, please—”
“Saoirse just answer me, for gods sakes.”
“I’m fine.”
Breath sawed from his lungs and he gathered her closer against his heart. “You scared the life out of me.”
“I’m fine.” She stroked her hands over his back.
“You’re shaking,” he muttered. “You are not fine.”
“You’re here now. I know everything will be okay now.”
He thought she was shaking but, as he cupped the back of her head, he realized it was him. He was the one shaking at the mere thought that he might not have found her in time. That she might have been out here alone when that man took her away.
Manus pressed a kiss against her temple and closed his eyes. “You are everything to me, my pearl. Tell me you know that.”
“I know.”
“Say it again. Please.”
“Manus, you’re scaring me.”
He probably was. He was scaring himself with the intensity of his feelings and the knowledge that he was going to leave her. That she was going to look up at him with tears in her eyes when he said the sea was calling.
A coward, that’s what he was. A coward and a fool for ever thinking he could hold onto such a glorious light and not tarnish her with his touch.
He pressed against kiss to her temple and held her close against his heart. A star shot across the sky, falling like the weight attached to his soul, dragging him down into the abyss of self-loathing and fear.
He wished to be a better man. He wished to stay close by her side, to raise a family as he’d always wanted to when he saw those
little girls prancing down the street with bows in their hair.
But above all else, Manus wished that she would stay with him just for a few moments longer.
Even if he didn’t deserve her.
Saoirse rolled over and stretched her arms over her head. Sunlight filtered through her balcony window while wind brushed the gauzy curtains into rippling movements. The air was chilled now, autumn was in full swing and some said winter may come early this year.
She was excited for winter. Snow was an entirely new and exciting weather for her to see. Some of the kinder servants had told her stories after everyone else had gone to bed.
The faeries danced upon icy winds and scattered thousands of perfectly carved snowflakes upon the ground. They spent the entire year carving each one to be unique in design and creation.
The mere thought of it made her giggle. It didn’t seem likely. Faeries would spend that much time and detail into creating something for humans to enjoy, but she hadn’t travelled through the Otherworld. It was possible, and she wanted to meet the creatures who dedicated their lives to such a feat.
She rolled onto her side and stretched out her hand, hoping to find Manus on the other side. Cold sheets met her fingertips.
Another night when he slipped away. Propriety be damned, she didn’t want him to go back to his room. She didn’t like waking to a cold side of the bed while having to wonder where he’d gone off to.
Frowning, she sat up. As she rolled, her hand fell on a small parchment left on Manus’s pillow.
Excitement lifted the hairs on her arms. Were they to go on another trip? Had he yet another surprise for her?
She unfurled the scroll and tried to make sense of the scratched marks. It wasn’t in any language she’d ever read before. The human writing wasn’t easy to learn. They had so many letters, markings, and strange ways of expressing emotion. Manus had given up on teaching her and she grew too frustrated.
A soft knock on the door heralded the return of her maids. They entered quietly as if they did not want to wake her.
“I’m already up,” she called out. “Good morning, ladies! How are you?”
They flinched at her voice. One tentatively replied, “We are well, my lady. How are you feeling?”
“Wonderful. It’s a beautiful day outside, is it not?”
Saoirse hopped down from the large bed and made her way towards the mirror. They could make her as pretty a doll as they wanted today. Manus had another surprise for her. And though she didn’t know what it was, she was certain it would be life changing.
The maids did not reply.
She met their startled gazes in their reflection and furrowed her brows. Something was wrong, but it couldn’t be. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, how could anything be amiss?
Hesitantly, she released her grip on the letter and held it up for one of them to take. “Could you read this to me please?”
“Can you not?”
She shook her head.
The maids looked at each other. One blushed bright red, reached out, and plucked the letter from her fingers. “A patron taught me how to read, mistress.”
“Start on my hair,” Saoirse ordered. She turned towards the mirror and focused on keeping her expression as still as a tranquil pool.
“My pearl, you looked so beautiful sleeping this morning that I could not wake you. Every morning you look the same, and I take all the blame for not telling you sooner. I leave today for—” the maid paused and held the letter out to Saoirse. “My lady I should not be reading this.”
“Read it.”
“This is personal, perhaps I should get the butler—”
“Read it.” Saoirse’s tone did not allow for any argument.
The maid winced but returned her gaze to the contents of the letter. “I leave today for the West Indies. Captain Ramsey has agreed to charter the voyage, so our wealth remains in your capable hands. I apologize I could not tell you this in person, my pearl. I trust you understand why I could not bear to see the disappointment in your gaze. The ocean is not a safe place for you. Be well and know that you will be in my thoughts. Signed, Manus.”
Saoirse swallowed, but kept her gaze on the mirror. Her face would not move. She would not show her reaction to these women.
Inside, her heart was breaking. Manus had known this entire time he would never take her on that ship. He hung freedom in front of her, dangling it like a treat, and all the while knew she would never be given that gift.
“My lady,” the maid brushing her hair murmured. “We thought you knew.”
“What time did he leave?”
“Before the sun rose. He made every effort to make certain you were comfortable in his absence. Being the wife of a sea captain isn’t an easy life. They’re always gone.”
“How long?” The words were strained and rushed. She cleared her throat. “How long are they usually gone?”
She saw the maids exchange a look in the mirror. “You don’t know?”
“Manus did not see fit to speak to me about his travels. How long are they usually gone?”
“Months, my lady. The West Indies is a considerable journey that could take a year to complete.”
A year? An entire year alone in this gods-forsaken place with only humans to keep her company?
Saoirse’s mind spiraled. She lost control over her face which tightened in anger and humiliation. These women knew. They had known the entire time where Manus was going.
She could sense their emotions. Sadness, pity, and the faintest hint of glee.
Words slammed through her lips, rushing forward to set fire to the rest of her life. “Who were you to him? Before he hired you on as my lady’s maids?”
“I don’t—”
“Tell me.”
“We were his favorites,” one of them ground out. Saoirse didn’t care which one. “At the brothel, there were a few of us who were considered ‘special’. Manus always chose one—or more—of us, when he returned from a long trip.”
“How long?”
“What?”
“How long has it been since he chose you?”
The maid closest to the door shook her head. “It’s not right to be discussing such things. We like our job, my lady. We don’t mean to hurt you or the lord, it’s just that you asked and—”
“Get out.”
They froze, their eyes as big as sand dollars.
The one who had read the letter licked her lips. “My lady, he saved us. The life we led before was not an easy one, and certainly not a safe one. He didn’t tell you because it’s not important anymore. We can all tell how he feels about you—”
When they did not move, Saoirse whirled around, her fingers clawing into the wooden chair back. “Get out!”
They spun in a whirl of skirts and raced from the room. Pounding feet echoed down the hall, along with shouts of inquiry, then sudden silence. It was as if the entire house waited with bated breath for what their mistress would do next.
Responsibility pressed down on her shoulders. She was supposed to be some paragon for these people. A figurehead for their grounded ship.
How could she possibly be that when she was a creature meant to be wild and free?
She couldn’t breathe. Saoirse pressed her hands to her throat and begged her human body to work. Her fingers touched the faint lines where her gills could open, and tears welled in her eyes.
The ocean would help. It would hide all her pain, tears, and frustration. No one could tell she was ripping open at the seams.
Saoirse lurched to her feet, stumbling from the room onto the balcony where she could grip the stone railing and tilt her face towards the sun.
This was what she had wanted. A human life with a human husband in a human house.
She took in a deep breath and held it until her lungs burned. How could she have known what this life would be like? No one had told her.
The stone railing creaked, her grip so strong it threatened to crack
the white marble. She stared down at her inhuman hands and wondered how long it would take for them to realize what she really was. In the absence of their master, all attention would be cast upon her.
Would they like having a faerie in their midst? She’d heard tales of humans destroying kind souls who only wished to help. Or worse, elevating them to status of a god.
Someone entered her bedroom, knocking on the door and shuffling their feet.
“My lady?” the butler asked. “Are you well?”
“I wish to be alone.”
“Understandable. I wanted you to know we’re all here for you.”
She turned, seeing his bright red cheeks and the way he wrung his hands together. “Pardon?”
“You must excuse my forwardness, ma’am. But the house staff didn’t like the way the master ran off in the early morning. I feared he might not have told you and it didn’t seem right.”
“Liam, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Thank you for your concern. Please share with the rest of the house that although I am…not pleased, I am well and appreciate their thoughts.”
“I will, my lady.”
He bowed and closed the door behind him as he left.
Saoirse folded onto the floor of the balcony. Silent sobs wracked her frame while her fingers began to tremble. The desire to leap off the edge and fall into the sea was so fierce, so strong, that she almost flung herself over.
But she didn’t. She was the lady of this house, and regardless of what she wanted, this was now her life.
Wind yanked her hair from the tight braid, sending strands lashing across her cheeks and back. The long length flew free and wild in the wake on the oncoming storm.
Saoirse stood with her arms wrapped around her waist, staring at the raging sea. The cliff edge was a few meters from her. Temptation just out of reach. Black clouds boiled in the skies and the ocean churned. A mirror of her emotions and fear.
Winter would soon touch this land with frost and icy winds. The servants explained to her that was why Manus had left in a hurry. The ship would be forced to remain in the harbor until next year if they were caught in the cold.