Chapter 6
SIX
E very now and then, Kent enjoyed going to the barber-surgeon in Portsmouth to volunteer. He had a degree from Oxford in physicianship, but that meant little when it came to surgery. When he was younger his mother had taught him how to care for wounds, using precision with a needle, and he felt it worthwhile to help out at the barber-surgeon if he could, despite it being unconventional for someone of his status. Regulars came in for their daily shave, a few people came in for their stitches that needed care, and one person even stopped in from a carriage accident—having fractured their arm after a fall.
Kent was glad to arrive home. He needed some time to relax, and hopefully if all went well, he could meet Mo at the beach again. Nothing was planned today: no events to attend, no dinner parties, no promises or other obligations. Something could always come up unexpectedly, but he hoped for the best. He handed his tricorn hat to Turner who greeted him at the door, then he decided he could freshen up with some more reading in his library. Perhaps not the history book again—he’ll savor that for reading along with Mo—but perhaps one of the legends of merfolk instead.
“Kent! Glad to see you home.”
Kent sighed as he turned his head toward the earl. “Thank you. You as well, Father.”
“You have nowhere to be until dinner, do you? Please, join me in the drawing room.”
It wasn’t a question or a suggestion, but rather a command. Herbert lifted his hand and curled his finger for Kent to come forth, and he led the way from the antechamber into the drawing room.
Herbert Wilson sat down on one of the elaborately carved arm chairs, ringing a small bell on the low table in front of him for a servant to grab them both tea. Kent took the chair opposite to him on the other side of the table. No matter if relaxing at home or out for the evening, his father was always dressed exquisitely. With his deep red frock coat edged with golden embroidery, black shoes polished to perfection, Herbert also wore his long and proper periwig, curls almost reaching down to his waist.
“So, Kent, I hadn’t had the time to speak with you after Rutland’s party. You looked as if you were having a splendid time; did you enjoy your dance with Miss Jaggard?” he asked with such conviction that Kent could tell that he shouldn’t answer with anything other than ‘yes’.
And so, he did. “Yes, of course. Miss Jaggard was quite lovely.”
“That’s wonderful.” The servant came by and set down their tea cups, Herbert thanking her before she went back on her way. “Miss Jaggard is one of the daughters of Baron Jaggard, you know. She comes from a fine family indeed. Shall I invite them over for dinner next week?”
“No, no, that shan’t be necessary.” Kent bent down in his seat to reach for his cup. “While Miss Jaggard was nice, I… I don’t wish to rush into things. If I wish to seek her company again, I will let you know.”
“It’s simply dinner, Kent. I’m not asking you to march her down the aisle.”
“I know, I know. But inviting her over might give them… um… the impression that I’d want to continue with that arrangement. Give precedent to keep coming, give Miss Jaggard the idea that I was hoping for more of her, when…”
“So you’re not interested in her,” the earl said in a flat tone.
There was no way to speak around it, was there? Kent held his teacup, blowing over the steam with a sigh. “No, frankly, I’m not. She is lovely, I wasn’t lying about that. But… but I…”
“Then what’s the matter?” Herbert grabbed his cup as well, asking his question not with malice, but moreso disappointment. “Sometimes you can’t quite gauge how you feel about someone from your first encounter alone. Why not test out the waters, see more of her, and if you do think she’s lovely, then what’s the harm?”
“I… I don’t know. I still just don’t feel ready…”
“Unless there’s something else going on that I’m caught unawares,” he said, eyeing Kent over the rim of his teacup. “Over the past few days, I’d wondered where you went, and Turner told me you went out for a walk. I find that just about strange; how these ‘walks’ started happening suddenly.”
Kent took a sip, scrunching his brow, and he carefully set his cup back down. He couldn’t risk his fingers from clutching too hard on the fine china. “Am I not allowed to simply go for a walk, Father? I am an adult, twenty-seven as you oh so kindly remind me often. I can make my own decisions on what I do with my free time.”
That hit a nerve, as Kent could see his father’s cheek twitch. “I was curious as to why you were going out. It just strikes me as odd, especially with your dismissal of a lady as sweet as Miss Jaggard. You haven’t found a woman, have you? Are you eloping with someone, having an affair, trying to keep things quiet?”
“No! No! Nothing of the sort!” His heart quickened in his chest at the absurd accusation. “You should know better than anyone that I haven’t always been in my right mind this past year. I’ve found that spending time outside and enjoying nature has been helping clear my head.”
That wasn’t the entire truth. He had met someone, and Kent felt his face heating up at the thought of it being an affair. Oh, why couldn’t his father just bugger off back to his London estate, but instead have to bother Kent here?
“Well, fine. Taking walks is fine, yes,” said the earl after a painstakingly slow sip of tea. “Would you mind telling me where exactly you’ve been walking, then?”
Kent rubbed under his nose, trying to hide his sneer. He couldn’t say he was sitting on the beach—what if Herbert went looking for him and found him with Mo? “Just around Stubbington. The surrounding wood, and such.”
“You didn’t come home until after sunset. Why would you walk around in the woods after dark?”
He clenched his fists on his lap. “Because I simply wanted to! It’s none of your concern.”
“What is going on here?”
His heart skipped a beat at the sudden interruption. Much to his relief, it was his sister Katherine, standing in the doorway. Her long brunette hair was tied in a bun at the nape of her neck, linen cap on her head, and her patterned, pink skirt flowed around her feet.
“Kathy!” Herbert sipped from his cup before setting it down. “I was having a conversation with your brother. Apparently, he’s been running off into the woods for God knows what reason.”
“The woods?” She turned her head to Kent, but her eyes were soft with sympathy. He knew she would never pry him in front of their father if the topic was sensitive—her expression was somewhat curious, but mostly of understanding. She looked back to the earl. “Well, if Kent wishes to walk in the woods, he’s within his right.”
“Katherine!” Herbert was fuming.
“I believe we’ve all said enough, Father,” she said with an air of agency that Kent oft failed to convey in his own tone. It always astounded him how much older she sounded, despite being younger than himself. “Kent, would you join me in my study?”
He nodded, already rising from his seat. “Yes, yes I would.”
Without looking back at Herbert, mumbling and swearing, still in his armchair, Kent and Katherine made their way up the stairs into her apartments. These rooms would empty soon, however, once Katherine were to wed Sir Randolf Jones, a baronet. They had planned for it to happen later this year, giving the siblings still some time together before she were to move out. At least she wouldn’t be moving far, as her betrothed hailed from Portsmouth.
But just the fact she had a betrothed and Kent didn’t was a source of contempt from his father. Kent thought it ridiculous—it wasn’t his fault Diana lied to him and took away his hope of finding love. Ever since, it had been difficult to start over, finding someone new. Any sensible person could imagine why and understand his circumstances, but Herbert begged to differ. People entered arranged marriages of status and convenience all the time and still found happiness, what difference did it make?
All the difference, because if I weren’t to make the choice of who to love myself, I absolutely would never be happy. And that, by God, is no way to live.
Kent shut the door behind him as they entered her study. Katherine took the wooden chair from her desk and pulled it out, sitting in it while offering Kent the armchair nearby. He sat down, releasing the tension in his shoulders with a sigh.
“So, Kent, pray, what’s been happening with you?” she asked, hands clasped together on her lap.
“Well, you heard some of it. I’ve been taking walks in the woods, and Father thinks it’s due to me finding a woman and eloping with her. Which—is absolutely ridiculous. You know I haven’t had the heart to find another lady in the first place.”
“Yes, I know.” She nodded in understanding. “What is the real reason you’ve been leaving, though? Even if it is just as simple as you finding yourself more comfortable in nature, that’s fine by me. There’s nothing wrong with that, especially when I personally think the scenery around here is beautiful, too. You know you can tell me anything.”
Could he really tell her the whole truth? About how he’d been chatting with a merman ? Would she even believe him? But at this point, perhaps it would be good to have someone on his side, someone to confide in about what was happening. Kent never did like to hide secrets from Katherine—they were siblings through and through, and she was right. He could tell her anything. If he had a secret, he knew he could trust her with it, as ridiculous as it might be.
“All right.” He rubbed the sweat from his palms onto his breeches. “First off, I’ve been sitting on the beach, not walking in the woods. Well, I suppose one needs to walk through the woods in order to get to the beach, so that’s not entirely wrong. Anyway, this is serious. Kathy, I know this will sound silly, but still, I want you to answer me earnestly.” He gulped. “And swear by absolute secrecy.”
“Really, that serious, eh?” She raised a curious brow. “Well, you needn’t worry. You can always count on me. I swear it.”
“All right.” Kent inhaled slowly, holding it in, then breathed out through his nose. “So, first, a question for you. Do you believe merfolk exist?”
“ Merfolk ? Well, honestly, I’m not sure. I’ve thought the idea about them existing to be fascinating, if it were to be true… Wait, Kent, don’t tell me. Are you saying that…?”
Kent nodded, glad she was picking it up. “I met one of them on the beach. A real, live merman.”
“You’re joking!” Her mouth hung open, and she leant forward in her chair.
“I am not!” Kent pouted. “Why would I lie about this?”
“To hide the fact you are having an affair?”
Kent’s face burned yet again at the accusation. “I’m being honest, Kathy. You know me better than that; there is no woman. I’ve met a merman.”
Katherine lifted her hand, fanning her face, appearing to finally come to terms with Kent’s words. “My apologies. I shouldn’t be so brash; yes, this is serious. Really? A merman?”
He smiled, heart swelling from just thinking of the wonderful merman. “Yes. His name is Mo. And he’s the most amazing creature I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“My… my goodness, Kent. That really is wonderful.” She placed her hand on her bosom, relaxing back in her chair. “Your secret is safe with me. I can’t believe it. He really talked to you?”
“Yes, he can speak English. He’s a delight to converse with. He even let me touch his tail!”
“How astounding!” She sagged her shoulders, a sweet look in her brown eyes. “Are you planning to meet him again?”
“Yes, hopefully soon. I’ve met him only a couple times these past few evenings, but I can already tell we’re to become fast friends. I wanted to meet him again tonight but…” he trailed off, “With how Father acted, I don’t know if it’s safe. I don’t wish to keep making him suspicious and possibly endanger Mo. I think I shall wait until tomorrow evening to go out, instead. Mo said he’d wait for me…”
Katherine set her hand back down in her lap, giving her brother a reassuring nod. “Yes, I think that would be best, to stay in for the night. If your merman does like you said, he’ll wait for you, then it shall be fine. And I’ll also do my best to keep your cover, too, as much as I can.”
“Really? Thank you, thank you Kathy.”
Katherine’s eyes shimmered with a smile. “Truly, I think this situation you have is so marvelous. I only wish the best for you and your merman. It’s… oh my, it’s all so thrilling. Is there any way I could meet him?”
Kent hadn’t thought about that, yet. “Hmm, perhaps. Though, not yet, if that’s all right. I don’t wish to impose any other people on him right away. I want to get to know him better myself, first.”
“That seems reasonable.” She sighs with a dreamy air. “I suppose I’ll just have to wait. Do let me know how your meetings go.”
Kent chuckled. “Of course.” And then, he remembered something about the merman that made his heartbeat quicken. Mo said he doesn’t have a family to tend to. That means he… he wouldn’t have a beloved, would he? I forgot to ask. But not only that, he… he told me how he thought my voice was beautiful. He held my hand before we parted. Does that mean, perhaps he…? Kent shook his head, giving his sister a smile.
Mo did as he said he would, and waited by the same boulder like yesterday. While Kent said there might be a chance he couldn’t come out and he’d have to wait until the next day, Mo stuck by his word that he would be here every day in case of his return. He wouldn’t want to miss Kent’s presence for the world, even if that meant wasting his time here sitting around.
Well, he didn’t really consider it time wasted , because if Kent did show up, every minute sitting here would be worth it. What better thing did he have to do, anyway?
Mo didn’t have a job, an established business, or any sort of work he did for other merfolk. He was a scavenger who found and sold human items. He was lucky enough to be able to live as free and easy as he did because of his gift of the Siren’s Song.
There was a rumble in his chest, a ball thorns and thistles spinning around his insides, twisting and turning, catching his lungs on their spikes. It kept tugging, pulling at him as it rose. He knew this feeling well. The magic of the Song was planting its seed, merely by the thought of it. It would not let up until he released the tension, giving into its call.
But what if he tried to resist?
Mo could see a ship off in the distance, floating away on the water painted orange by the enchanting sunset. He wouldn’t go after that one specifically, no—he went after pirate ships, after all. The riling tension kept festering in his core, poking around his sternum, creeping up his throat. Energy was swelling, down his hands, through his fingertips.
— Take your leave and go out further. Hunt. You know you love the thrill of it. Find something, somewhere ? —
Was Kent even coming tonight? As the sun continued to set, disappearing behind the red horizon, it looked less likely that he would. Something probably came up, and he wasn’t going to make it out.
Then perhaps Mo was wasting his time, sitting around doing nothing. His Song certainly thought so. Visions of crimson flooded his mind. The sight he longed to see. The beautiful blood in the water?—
No.
Mo shook his head, and splashed his face. He didn’t need to go. He had enough coin from last time he sold human goods to live comfortably for at least a few months. He wasn’t that desperate, was he? Was it simply just the force of his magic? This time, he would try to resist. If the Song was a part of him, then it, too, should bend to his will.
He waited until the sky was dark blue, twinkling the nighttime above with a sea of stars. Each moment, each sliver of time that passed twisted his gut—that thorny ball crushing his insides even more. He felt so nauseous that he nearly vomited. No, he would resist. He vowed he would wait for Kent—even if he weren’t to come—and nothing would stop him. Not even his Song.
Soft, gentle waves lapped at his chest as he sat behind the rock. How much more time should he linger? Perhaps he could leave for home soon. Much to his relief, the nausea began to dissipate. The knot in his chest was unraveling, gradually, piece by piece. Not undone entirely, but enough to where he didn’t feel choked by it.
This was a good sign. Over the years, if the pull of the Song beckoned him, he always, always , gave in. This time was different. As the tension continued to loosen, Mo felt more comfortable than ever that he, truthfully, was gaining control of it.
For good measure, he waited just a little longer in the darkness, making sure Kent wasn’t simply running late. No, he’s not coming. Mo was not going to dwell on mourning the loss of Kent’s presence, when he knew he’d be blessed with it tomorrow. Once he saw his face, his beautiful smiling face, everything would be all right.
The swim home would be dark, but that was fine. Perhaps for tomorrow, though, he’d wear one of his glowing sea crystal necklaces.
And so, he ducked under the water, and made his way back into the depths.