Mirrie’s answering smile was even larger than Frida’s own. They squeezed each other’s hands and then, of one accord, moved apart so they could properly greet the small group of waiting villagers.
Frida nodded and smiled and passed comments about the inclement weather, all the while thinking of one thing.
Callum.
Mirrie was right, he made her happy.
More than that, he made her feel whole.
Whole, after being broken for over two long years. Broken because of her ankle. Broken because of her altered appearance and altered spirit. But mostly, broken because she had lost her Sight; that connection with the natural world that had always helped her feel strong and complete.
But now Callum filled up the emptiness inside of her.
Frida sat beside Mirrie on the narrow wooden pew at the front of the chapel, bowing her head respectfully as the ageing priest delivered his sermon, but she hardly heard a word. Part of her was reliving every moment of that extraordinary kiss. The first time she had e’er been embraced with such passion.
And the other part was asking herself an important question.
Can I break down my barriers and confess the love in my heart?
Callum had made his feelings clear. He remembered her from Wolvesley. He had grieved her. Although she couldn’t allow herself to feel guilty about that. ’Twas not her doing that the man left Wolvesley before she recovered consciousness. And ’twas not her fault that Tristan had never thought to send word to him in France.
Men are funny creatures, she mused. So preoccupied with battles and warfare that they rarely attended to what was really important. Tristan, for example, was apparently blind to the fact that beautiful Mirrie, sitting on this uncomfortable pew beside her, had held a torch for him since they were in the school room together.
What if her instincts had been correct during the Twelfth tide revels at Wolvesley? What if Callum was the man meant for her?
Frida took a deep, rattling breath, drawing curious stares from the genteel family seated on the opposite pew across the stone-flagged aisle. Mirrie nudged her sharply and Frida dragged her attention back to the service. People were kneeling to pray.
Frida shuffled forwards and carefully lowered herself onto a hand-stitched cushion positioned beneath the pew. She pressed her palms together and closed her eyes, allowing the priests’ lilting entreaties to wash over her.
Frida prayed for a sign.
Should she stay true to her vow and live a life free of men?
Or should she open her heart to the possibility of love?
*
The rest ofthe service passed in a haze. She followed Mirrie back down the aisle and out of the chapel, shaking hands with the priest and wrapping her heavy cloak around her as protection from the brisk wind which caused the shutters to bang and children to shriek.
The long walk home was made longer by the unprepossessing grey cloud and a creeping chill which even the noontime sun could not banish. Mirrie talked of pressing apples and preserving berries, but Frida could not properlyconcentrate. When they were in sight of the stone gateposts of Ember Hall, Mirrie tugged on her elbow until she paused.
“What is it?” Frida shifted her weight onto her right leg, rotating her left ankle as far as she could inside her restrictive boots in an attempt to ease the aching.
“I know you didn’t want to talk about it at chapel.” Mirrie jerked her head back towards the village. “And most likely you don’t want to talk about it now. But I must say this.” She took a breath. “I think it’s good, what’s happening between you and Callum.”
Frida pressed her lips together. “Truly, I do not know what is happening.”
Mirrie continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “He’s brought a light back to your eyes that I feared was gone forever.”
“But what of my promise to you, to live in Ember Hall for the rest of our lives, just the two of us?” The words burst from Frida’s lips before she could hold them back.
“I don’t hear wedding bells ringing just yet,” Mirrie answered wryly.
Frida looked away, mortified. “Of course not.”
“But if that’s where things are headed, if that is what is meant to be, then I will be truly happy for you,” Mirrie said, sincerity shining from her face. “And I would certainly not stand in your way.”
“I am not saying that is what the future holds.” Frida folded her arms to hide her discomfort. Tiny droplets of rain began to fall around them.
