The Duke of Ice

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The Duke of Ice Page 35

by Lisa Andersen

“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?” Fa
ther 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 feel 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.

  At night, when all was dark except for the diamonds in the sky, and when all was silent except for the soft lapping of the ocean’s waves, she would think of him. He had become something godlike in her mind. She found it hard to imagine him without feeling warm, and safe, and loved. Their lovemaking had been glorious.She had felt massive Pleasure course through her: through every part of her. He had moaned loudly, a slave to his passion. They had both lost themselves in each other. Lollie thought it was the best thing that had ever happened to her, that morning.

  She often wished that Elias would return, so that she may touch his face, feel his breath. But she was also glad that he did not. It would raise too many questions, bring her into a light into which she did not wish to be brought. It would drag her name thoroughly through the mud, and make the men in the village cast her aside; and the women look at her with unconcealed pity.

  She envisioned her life from this point as being solely given to her son. She and Freddie would take long walks amongst the mountains, and he would climb upon her shoulders and look out over the sea and point into the great nothingness. “I will go there, Ma,” he said. “And bring you a shell the size of House. The biggest shell you ever saw, Ma.”

  “I know, sweetness,” Lollie said. “I know.”

  Her life trudged on quite comfortably. She was content, happy. She would not have regretted it if she died without ever seeing Freddie’s father again.

  One night, Father and she sat before the fire. “Some English lord is going to build this place up,” he said, tapping his fingers on the chair. “They’re going to make a proper dock, and build a lighthouse. Oh, yes, things are going to change in Karankay.”

  “Are you worried, Da?”

  Father laughed. “Worried? No. What’s there to be worried about? They’ll want good fisherman. I’m a great fisherman. With their help we’ll be able to catch enough to live on, and to sell a little bit on. We might be able to buy a few trinkets here and there. Some presents for little Freddie. Plus, we can give him a little something. Save up some coin for him, aye? No, I’m not worried at all.”

  It was good to see Father so optimistic, but the rest of the village didn’t share his optimism. The women spoke of dark omens, and some of the men spoke of the English with disgust. “Won’t learn out language—use us—make us out for fools—insult out ways.”

  “It’s silly talk,” Father said one night. “They need us more than we need them. We’ve been fishing these waters for hundreds of years. They don’t know where the best fish are to be caught, at what times, aye? They don’t know how these waters can beat a man. They don’t know how these waters can break some men. What of the coves, and the secret places the ocean keeps to herself, aye? Do they know of them?”

  Freddie jumped upon his grandfather’s lap. “Papa, was I good last time?”

  He was referring to his short trip on the boat.

  “Aye, lad,” Father said, ruffling Freddie’s mop of ginger hair. “Very good. You’ll make a good fisherman. If that’s what you want to be. If this situation turns out alright, you’ll have what I never did. Prospects.”

  “Prospects.” The boy said the word like it was magic.

  “Anyway,” Father said, rising. “I’ve got to meet this stone-mason they’ve sent up to England. He’s going to start work on the lighthouse. Figuring where it should go and the like. Think they’ve sent up a team of workers, too. But they’re coming after, when he’s made his measurements.”

  Father pulled on his jacket against the autumn wind. Then there was a knock at the door. Father walked over and opened it slightly. “Aye?” he said, in thickly-accented English. “Who are you?”

  “The stone-mason,” was the reply.

  A cold chill went through Lollie. Her hands shook.

  “Aye, alright,” Father said.

  Elias sounded nervous. Lollie knew it was him. She had heard that voice enough times in her dreams. “Um, thank you,” he said. “Shall we get started?”

  “Aye, sure,” Father said.

  He turned to Lollie. “I’ll see you later, Lol—”

  Her name! “Goodbye, Da,” she said quickly.

  He looked at her oddly, and then shook his head. The door closed behind him.

  He is here, Lollie thought in panic. My lover has returned.

  Freddie jumped over to her. “Ma, you look funny. Ma, your face looks funny and red.”

  Lollie made to talk, but all that cam
e out was a tired sigh. “Sorry, sweet one,” she said. “Ma is tired, is all.”

  Her breath came quickly; feelings long-buried rose to the surface. Love panged within her.

  &

  Elias had heard her voice. He was certain it was her voice. He would never forget it. Six years later, and she sounded like the day he met her. And there was another thing, a thing that shocked Elias to his core. She had a child. The child had peeked around the door, eager to see the visitor. In the child’s face he saw Lollie. His heart dragged downward in his chest. Lollie had found a man. She was married. She had a family. He had come all this way, and she had a family.

  He knew he should’ve expected this. He couldn’t exactly expect her to wait for him. He had made no sign he was coming back. But it still cut him deeply. LollieMcArkam had a family. He was a married woman. He had outgrown most of his courtly training, but the sanctity of marriage still meant a great deal to him. He would never come between a husband and his wife, never. It simply was not in him.

  Despite himself, he wanted to learn more about Lollie’s life. He knew it could serve no purpose but to harm him, but he wanted to assure himself that she was happy, that she had made it. “So, George,” he said, in the most casual voice he could at present muster. “That little one I saw, he’s your grandson, I assume?”

  “Aye,” George said, as they walked across the island toward a natural pier-formation: a grouping of rocks that jutted out of the island like a horizontal Finger Rock. “Freddie, his name is. A fine rascal, if ever I met one.”

  “Your son’s child, is he?” Elias said.

  “No,” George said. “I have no son. He’s my daughter Lollie’s lad.”

  “Oh.” Elias nodded his head.

  “This is it,” George said, walking to the end of the rock. “You ken here? Where the rock pokes out like this. Aye, I think it’d make a mighty fine spot four your lighthouse. A mighty fine spot.”

  Elias observed the rock, made some judgments, and then hastily agreed. He had to know who she was married to. He just had to. When they were walking back from the spot, Elias feigned a laugh to himself.

 

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