Page 33 of Fletcher

“You neednae choose the valley, you ken,” he told her. “I only wish you among good people.”

“Ever I’ve liked cows and their sweet eyes. Nor should I mind tending trees and picking fruit.” Meg crouched down to hand him the short-handled rake she used to gather the oysters, and then leaned over to point at a spot near the edge. “There’s where you’ll find the largest.”

Fletcher used the rake, which easily scooped up the mollusks.

“Find a place for me, and I’ll love you forever,” the maid told him as she took out a short blade. “I’ll trim away the barnacles–”

A rogue wave smashed over the tide pool, drowning out the rest of what the maid said. Fletcher shook off the drenching, but when he turned to warn Meg to retreat, all he saw was her gathering basket in the water. Jumping out of the pool, he ran toward the spot where she had been, and saw watery blood on a sharp-edged rock.

Wrenching off his tartan, he went to the edge and jumped in, searching the water until he saw Meg in the arms of a Finfolk. Suddenly something seized him and yanked him from the water like some giant, unseen hand, flinging him back on the shore. Another wave smashed over the tide pool as Merrick shot up and landed on the rocks. He held Meg against his chest, and strode past Fletcher to put her down on the sand.

“What the fack do you here, you eejit?” the king demanded as he pushed Meg’s bright hair back from her face. “Didnae the laird command all keep from the water’s edge until the shark, ’tis killed?”

“’Tis why I accompanied her. Does she yet breathe?” He knelt down beside the maid, pressing his hand to her breast, where her heart still fluttered.

Merrick shoved his arm away from Meg, and then bent his head and forced a breath into her mouth. After another she made a choking sound, and he rolled her onto her side as sea water spewed from her lips.

Fletcher stared at her as what she’d said only moments before echoed in his head: Make a place for me there, and I shall love you forever.

“Aye, Margret, you’re safe,” the king said in a completely different, soothing tone, smiling down at her. “Dinnae try rise. Just breathe now.” He glared at Fletcher. “Carry her back and bid Duncan attend that gash on her jaw at once.”

The fact that Merrick had rescued the chamber maid only a few seconds after she’d been swept into the sea suggested he had been watching them. He’d likely used his power to shove Fletcher out of the water as well. Before he could ask why he’d done that, the king rose and dove back into the water, swimming toward the settlement so quickly he became a long, dark streak.

“Seneschal,” Meg whispered as he lifted her in his arms. “Send me away soon, please.”

Chapter Eleven

Lark had just finished cutting out the panels for a skirt in the great hall when she saw Fletcher leave with Meg, and followed them to the cliff stairs leading down to the shore. There she hovered, wondering what exactly they were doing. Meg had told her that the laird had ordered everyone to stay away from the water. Everyone definitely included the seneschal. Then she watched them gathering oysters from the tide pool and wondered why she was acting so silly.

He’s not running away with her. Stop being a jealous idiot.

Beyond the tide pool she could see the waves rolling in, but one of them seemed to swell as it drew closer to the shore. By the time it reached the rocks protruding from the sea it had risen to towering heights. Before she could shout down to Fletcher, the wave crashed over Meg, knocking her flat before dragging her off the rocks.

The seneschal clambered onto the edge of the pool before diving in after her.

He can’t die.

The dread that filled Lark whenever the jinx snatched someone away from her filled her chest like cement, and then something soft and cool poured through it. Suddenly Fletcher flew out of the water and landed on the sand several hundred feet away. A few moments later Merrick appeared with Meg in his arms, and carried her up to where Fletcher was staggering to his feet.

I did that. How she knew that she didn’t know, she just did. I saved him.

Lark backed away from the stairs, and saw a strange black shadow on her right move through the trees like a stream of black water. Overwhelmed, she turned and ran toward the stronghold. She grabbed the first guard she saw and told him there had been an accident down by the bay, and that Fletcher and Meg needed help. She then hurried to the infirmary to find the clan’s healer. With every step she became even more convinced that she had been responsible for yanking the seneschal out of the water, but how could she have done such a thing?

Duncan nearly collided with Lark as he walked out just as she was rushing in, and caught her by the arms.

“Mistress Ambrose, what’s the matter?” After she quickly told him, he went back to grab his medical case and then hurried with her downstairs.

Fletcher came in carrying Meg. Both of them were dripping wet, and blood streaked down the chambermaid’s neck from a deep cut on the side of her jaw. Duncan swaddled Meg in his tartan as soon as the seneschal set her in a chair by the hearth.

“Fair day, healer,” the maid said, her voice rasping.

“No’ for you, Meggie,” the healer murmured as he glanced at the seneschal. “Or Fletcher, ’twould seem.”

Lark watched her lover, who turned and saw her. He held out his hand and, when she took it, drew her to him.

“Forgive me,” Fletcher murmured. “I didnae intend scare you.”

The healer blotted the blood from Meg’s face and studied the gash on her face before gently checking the rest of her head.