“Did she marry him?” Jason asked.
Cocking her head, she studied him. “Would you marry someone who kept you forcibly?”
He nearly choked on his own ale. An uneasy silence stretched between them until he wiped his mouth and said, “So, what happened?”
“She walked away and returned to the sea, but without her tail she couldn’t join her people. Instead of standing up for herself, in the morning she went back and agreed to be the man’s bride. She begged him to be kind and never tell anyone who she was or how she came to be there, and he promised.”
“And they lived happily ever after?”
“Nay. I told you it was a sad story.” A faraway look in her eyes, she touched her emerald. “All the people of the village loved the Maid-of-the-Wave, but the man kept his promise and didn’t tell them where she came from. They believed she was a princess, brought to them by the fairies.”
“Half-witted fools,” he said and ate another onion.
A frown appeared on her forehead. “You don’t believe in fairies, either?”
“Of course not.”
“Well, then, that makes two of us,” she said with a grin.
He laughed. “So, were they happy together?”
“Oh, aye, for a spell. They lived in peace for seven years and had two bairns, a lad and a lassie. The Maid-of-the-Wave loved them dearly. Then came a time the farmer went to town to trade. It was a long journey, and he was gone several days. The mermaid was lonely without him, so she wandered the seashore with her little ones. As she sang to her wee lass, she remembered her people who lived in the Land-under-Waves.”
“Very sad. Are you going to finish that?”
With a roll of her eyes, she handed him the rest of her bread. “One evening her son came to her and said, ‘I found a key. It opens Father’s box, and I looked inside. There’s a tail in there, a big, shiny, beautiful tail that looks like a salmon’s.’ She gasped with shock and excitement and asked for the key.”
“And he gave it to her?”
“Of course. She was his mother. After supper she put her children to bed and sang them to sleep. Then she opened the box and took out her tail. She sat by the fire for a long, long time, for she wanted so badly to go home to her people, but she didn’t want to leave her bairns.” She paused for a heavy sigh. “But then she heard the sound of singing coming from the sea. Her sister mermaids were calling to her. She kissed her two children and wept—”
“Greeted.”
She smiled, though her eyes looked sad. “—greeted over them until their precious faces were wet with her tears. And still she heard the songs from the sea. With a heavy heart, she took her tail and hurried to the Land-under-Waves.”
“Abandoning her children,” Jason put in with no small measure of disgust.
“Aye,” she said and nodded. “When the farmer returned the next morning, the sounds of joy and laughter floated to him from the sea. In his cottage, his children were fast asleep. But the box was open and empty. He sat down and wept, because he knew that the Maid-of-the-Wave had gone.”
She released a shaky breath. Without thinking, Jason leaned to cover her hand with his. “You must miss your own children.”
A puzzled look came over her face. “What do you mean?”
“Your children. Your…bairns. A lad and a lassie, like the mermaid’s, yes?”
“You think I have bairns?” She tugged back her hand. “Me? I’m only seventeen. I’ve never even—”
“Never mind.”
His face felt as warm as hers looked. He hated the feelings of doubt that had been niggling at him ever since he’d overheard the men at breakfast. But his gaze dropped to her amulet. A ray of sunshine through the window made the old stone glint green. Emerald green.
Of course she was Emerald. Emerald would deny this, like everything else.
He cursed the aggravating niggle and drained the rest of his ale. “Did the mermaid ever come back?”
One of her fingers traced her crisscrossing laces while she studied him a moment. He shifted uneasily. He didn’t like being studied.
“Nay,” she said at last. “But it’s told that she often returned in the night to peek through the cottage windows at her bairns as they slept. She left trout and salmon outside the door. The farmer told his children that their mother was far away but would never forget them. When her son grew up, he sailed the seas, and no harm ever came to him, even in the fiercest storms, for the Maid-of-the-Wave followed his ship and protected him.”
“That’s not quite so sad, then.”
A wan smile emerged. “Nay, I suppose it isn’t. She had to go back to her place, didn’t she? Her home, where she belonged.” A muddy green now, her eyes met his. “Even though they’d never see her again.”
Like Emerald would go back to Scotland. Her home, where she belonged. “Yes, she had to go,” he agreed, though hang it if the thought of never seeing her again didn’t seem somehow incomprehensible.
THIRTY-ONE
THE ROAD FROM Grantham was hilly with lots of trees and sheep, a welcome change after traveling through flat land all the day.
At Stoke Rochford they took a wee bridge over a wee river—Jason didn’t even hesitate—and rode up to the Church of St. Mary, which was perched on high land with a spectacular view. The village had no inns or taverns, though—no excuse for Cait to get off the horse and ease her aching legs and bottom. Her teeth were aching as well, from gritting them against the discomfort. But she wouldn’t admit that to Jason.
Stretton had enormous trees and a lovely field of yellow wildflowers, but nothing else of note. They plodded on. A sleepy stone village called Casterton boasted a pretty Norman kirk, but Jason didn’t suggest they stop and have a look.
After hours in the saddle, Caithren
