Page 16 of Nyall

“What do you here, Mistress?” one of them asked.

“Captain Nyall said I’m free to come and go as I please,” Caroline told them. “I’d like to go out, please.”

That wasn’t what he’d said, of course, but how would they know?

Using that name worked like magic; the men yanked up the gate grate so fast the ropes almost smoked. By the time she walked to the second gate the guards there were already raising it, saving her from stretching the truth again. At last, she reached the stairs leading down the side of the cliff, where two more guards eyed her before reluctantly stepping out of her way.

Caroline hadn’t expected that wearing her wet suit would get her out of castle detention so easily. She might never wear anything else now.

At the base of the cliff she took off the boots Lark had given her, taking care to set them, the basket and the hand rake on a rock where they’d stay dry. Then she glanced down each side of the shore to assure she was alone before she walked into the waves and waded out. The moment the cool water reached her chest she finally relaxed; what Rich had done to her hadn’t left her too messed up to go back in the water, it seemed. Using a slow, easy stroke she swam parallel to the shore as she checked out the water. The current seemed remarkably mild, given that this was probably the North Atlantic or the North Sea. Then again Caladh was supposedly enchanted, so maybe the sea around it was, too.

I’m really starting to fall for this fairy tale.

Caroline stopped and treaded water as she noted the number of broad, low-lying tide pools on one side of the bay; that was probably where she could harvest Brochan’s shellfish. Then she saw a pale shape coming at her at high speed, and pulled out her knife as she found her footing on the shallow bottom. A broad wave of water rolled toward her as the shape halted and a white-haired man with gills on his neck surfaced. Something pretty sparkled at the end of his long braid, a chunk of metal that looked like violet-enameled gold. His lean, tough body appeared just as muscular as Nyall’s, but he had slightly shorter limbs and a narrower torso. The crystal blue of his eyes made her think of the water in the Keys, so clear that one could see everything down to the sea bed.

They’re like day and night. Again the thought of him and Nyall made her restless, as if that meant something. Why did she always think of them together? Maybe because they’re two guys I’ll never have.

“Good morning.” She lowered her knife.

Water gushed from Jamaran’s neck before he took a breath of air and replied, “You shouldnae swim alone, Mistress Parish.”

His voice matched the rest of him, beautiful and haunting, with a slight accent that was decidedly not Scottish. French, maybe? Was France even a country now?

Deal with the man first, Parish.

“Is that because you won’t be able to resist changing me into an immortal fish bride?” She watched for a reaction, and got nothing. “I guess not. You have to get my permission first, or make me an offer I can’t refuse, or something along those lines. Also, I’m not swimming. I’m gathering shellfish for the clan’s cook. Him, I like.”

“Does the captain ken you’re here?” When she shook her head he glanced up at the cliffs. “Mayhap I should escort you back until Nyall may accompany you.”

“Nyall is busy. You should stay out of it.” She turned her back on him and waded to shore, where she collected the basket and rake and walked toward the tide pools. She could sense him watching her, which meant he probably wouldn’t swim off in a huff any time soon. Liking him for that was wrong. Getting involved with any of these people was not in her best interests. Even as she thought that, she wanted to turn around and go back to him.

Jamaran caught up with her. “Why do you such work?”

“Why not?” She stepped over a long curving stretch of sea-washed rock and crouched down to peer into the water. “Women in the future do all kinds of work. We don’t have to marry or have babies anymore, either. Spread the word among the other fish guys, will you?”

He sat down on the rocks to watch her using the rake.

“The future sounds delightful. Mayhap you’ll take me with you when you return.” He smiled a little as she glared at him. “Did you expect me demand you stay here and wed me?”

“According to what those ding-dongs in the castle say, yes, I did. You found me, you get to propose. Of course, the captain was there, too, which seems to create some kind of first-claim problem.” She sighed. “I can’t believe these words are coming out of my mouth, either.”

“’Tis much, accepting your fate,” Jamaran suggested.

“Not accepting. I don’t believe in fate.” She shook off some oysters into the basket before she regarded him. “Unless the two of you want to share me, which we could make work.” What she’d meant as a joke seemed to have the opposite effect on him. His eyes narrowed and his jaw went tight. “Sorry—are you and Nyall lovers, and I missed it?”

“I’ve but friendship for the captain. More, for he’s as dear as a brother born. We both prefer female lovers.” He stepped into the pool and slogged over to her. “You neednae pretend I’ve a chance for your love. You’ve already made your choice. I saw you kiss Nyall.”

At least he’s not gay.

Caroline ignored that burst of relief as she realized something. Everyone on this damn island jumped to conclusions, or maybe kissing someone in the twelfth century was the same as announcing an engagement. She needed to stop that crap right here and now.

“I didn’t choose anyone. My last lover left me to drown in the middle of the sea yesterday, so I’m done with love. Kissing in my time doesn’t have to mean anything. I even promised myself if I survived I’d kiss the first guy I saw. I can’t remember if that was him or you. Just glad it wasn’t Shaw.” She carefully plucked a large black urchin from a cluster of rocks and tossed it in the basket. “Should I even things up between you and your friend?”

He took a step closer. “I wouldnae deny you your vow.”

Caroline liked the way he looked at her as he told her that, as if he wanted to grab her and toss her on the ground but wouldn’t let himself act like anything but a gentleman. He seemed to be Nyall’s exact opposite, because she still had trouble guessing what the captain wanted from her. Judging by the way Jamaran had approached her, however, he could be working some kind of strategy here, too. He also wanted her, but she wasn’t sure why. Maybe he wasn’t so close to Nyall after all.

Or maybe this is the new plan to get me married to one of them. Why did I have to land on the island of Guys Needing Wives and Babies?