“We shall,” Hull pledged with the assurance Ephraim knew well.But then an unfamiliar expression overtook his handsome features; belatedly, Ephraim realised he had very rarely beheld Hull appearing uncertain.“Forgive me, my fears overtook my better sense.”
“You feared I would judge your customs unfairly,” Ephraim concluded.
But Hull shook his head.“The first time I showed you my true form… you collapsed.I feared I’d killed you.And I dreaded revealing anything that might shock you again.”
“Oh,” said Ephraim.He hadn’t considered that.In his defence he hadn’t been conscious to behold Hull’s fright in full.Another man might feel insulted to have his lover keep things from him out of fear for his weak heart.Dr Hitchingham certainly wouldn’t stand for it.Ephraim supposed himself a different sort of man; one who felt strangely touched despite all the trouble this unnecessary caution had caused.Still… “I’m sorry to have caused you undue alarm.But now that I am aware that the fae realms exist and magic is possible, surely I’ve grown more hardy against surprise from that quarter?”
A wistful smile overtook Hull’s worried face.“You certainly have.”
A rare ember of pride ignited beneath Ephraim’s breast-bone.
“I ought to have told you the truth in full long before now,” Hull continued.“But I shall be forthright with you from now on.Is there anything in particular you would like to know now?”
Ephraim considered for a moment.Nothing imperative or important came to mind.But a certain curiosity remained.“When you bid goodbye to Drude, you asked him to give your regards to Ptarmigan.Who is Ptarmigan?”
“His husband.”
These two words were very familiar to Ephraim separately.But he had never in all his days heard them thus combined.The implication dizzied him.He rallied, determined to prove to his Hull that he could withstand even the most fantastical truths of the fae realm.He could not, however, prevent himself from echoing in wonder, “His husband?”
Hull merely nodded with the sweet smile that Ephraim loved so well.“Perhaps we might take them up on their invitation sooner rather than later?”
“Perhaps,” Ephraim murmured distractedly.His mind flew down wild paths of possibility.His heart had taken flight, and a queer courage now surged through his veins, enough so that he felt emboldened to give his answer in the fae fashion and drew his Hull down for another kiss.
The Unveiling of Daniel Durst
The front door-bell rang.
Daniel Durst glanced up from Scott’sThe Monastery, which he’d been reading aloud to his wife.She likewise met his gaze over her mending with confusion that equalled his own.As it was half-past three on a Sunday afternoon and they had no expectation of any callers, he knew not what to make of the bell.
“Perhaps it’s Aunt Molly?”was his sole guess.
The furrow betwixt Sukie’s brows bespoke her own conjectures, but rather than give them voice she set aside her mending in silence and went to answer the bell herself, leaving him alone in the parlour.He perched on the edge of his chair and kept his place in the book with his fore-finger whilst he awaited her return.
“Good afternoon, miss!Is your mistress at home?”
The slight-yet-strange accent aroused Daniel’s curiosity.More importantly the voice was that of a gentleman and most certainly not Sukie’s aunt.Daniel laid the book aside and went to assist his wife in dispelling any confusion.
Before he arrived, another voice arose.
“Oh, I beg your pardon—we are looking for the address of a Mrs Daniel Durst.Does she dwell nearby?”
Daniel staggered.From the first syllable he recognized the voice.But it couldn’t possibly be…
And yet there upon his doorstep stood his guardian, Mr Grigsby.
The hat he held in his hand had been recently swept off his bald pate, if the askew nature of the pale wisps of hair that remained above his ears were any indication.He appeared more careworn than Daniel remembered him; still better than Daniel had feared he might fare without Lofthouse to look after him.Far older, somehow, though scarce more than a year had passed.But there remained a brightness in his eyes and a smile that creased every corner of his round face, and the gaze he cast down upon Sukie was a genial and gentlemanly one.Beside him stood a stranger, a man of middling age wearing a perfectly unobjectionable frock coat, with a likewise kindly smile shining through his close-trimmed beard.
What had possessed Mr Grigsby to cross the sea from London to Port Hawkesbury, Daniel couldn’t fathom.Nor could he fathom the maelstrom of contradictions whirling through his own heart in reply.The familiar sound of the kindly elder gentleman’s words sparked a long-forgotten joy, and yet alongside that joy came fear and grief, neither of which were swept aside at the sight of him, though the joyful ache mounted.
Still moreso when Mr Grigsby caught Daniel’s eye over Sukie’s shoulder.
First, there came that friendly spark Mr Grigsby ignited for all fresh acquaintance.Then a glint of recognition that sent Daniel’s heart into his throat.Only an instant afterward for it to resolve into the vague amiability his guardian would cast upon any stranger.
“Forgive me, sir,” Mr Grigsby told him.“I quite mistook you for someone else.You bear a great resemblance to a Mr Felix Knoll.But now of course I see my error.Mr Daniel Durst, I presume?”
Daniel swallowed down the unaccountable lump in his throat to reply, “I am.”
Mr Grigsby struck out his hand.“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir.I am Mr Ephraim Grigsby, guardian to Miss Flora Fairfield—or I should say her former guardian, though in truth I feel some responsibility toward her yet, though the guardianship itself has of course passed on to you as her husband.She’s told me a great deal about you in her letters, though,” he added with a chuckle, “I cannot imagine she would bother to speak oft of myself to you.An old hulk has few charms to recommend it against a bold young ship-o’-th’-line.”
