Tamsyn closed her eyes and settled back to listen to the time-worn tale that mothers had forever told their children and would continue to tell until the sea ceased its own melodic singing.
“Well,” Mr Sewell continued, “his dulcet voice attracted a fetching young mermaid from the ocean depths, who listened in raptures and so fell in love with the sound that she yearned to find its source. Covering herself, she struggled from sea to church, only remaining for as long as she dare. But with every evening, she grew bolder, staying longer, until one evensong their gazes met.”
Sensing Captain Lynch’s own heavy gaze, Tamsyn squirmed. She refused to meet it, but his fingers brushed her wrist, calloused and–
A jostle of seats, knock of claret, and Hugh withdrew his hand, cursing.
“Lud, sorry, old chap. What a blunder,” drawled Lord Winterbourne, blotting the spilled wine from the tablecloth.
Dumbfounded, Tamsyn could do nothing but stare as the marquess landed in between the professor and Great-Aunt Sarah opposite.
His boot tips disturbed the hem of Tamsyn’s dress and a smoky eye winked. “Good day, Miss Penrose, and…checkmate,” he murmured. “Do carry on, Mr Sewell.” And all eyes returned courteously to the storyteller.
“They fell in love immediately. But the call of the sea is too strong for one such as her; the land can only bring death, and so she forsook his love, turning for the shore once more. Bereft, the young man followed, and she was forced to reveal why it could not be – her mermaid’s tail. But did he spurn her?” Mr Sewell glanced around for an answer, his expression troubled. “No, for it mattered not to his love. ‘Then I will go with ye,’ Mathew assured. ‘For with ye is where I belong.’”
The ladies sighed. The gentlemen rolled their eyes. The sea endlessly surged.
“And so, Mathew lifted his mermaid and rushed her to the water, till gradually they were both submerged. And although he was never seen on land again, the fishermen still hear his dulcet tones. He sings soft for fair weather, deep for rough seas, and the men of Zennor know when ’tis safe to fish for ever more, thanks to the mermaid and her beloved.”
“Oh,” sighed Mrs Tripconey, gazing at the storyteller in admiration. “How handsomely told.”
“The very seat,” Mr Sewell continued with a smile, “from which she listened and fell in love can be found at the church of St Senara, a carving of a mermaid upon the wood. A reminder that love can conquer all.”
Mrs Pencally wiped a discreet tear and many a guest stared to the deep-blue abyss in silence.
Tamsyn sipped her mead. To have a man give up everything for his love. To declare his feelings in such a way. How romantic.
Romantic but fanciful codswallop.
“Hmm. well done, Rufus,” slurred the professor. “Couldn’t have done better myself.”
“Well, I’m afraid,” murmured Lord Winterbourne, almost to himself, “that I would have to decline the mermaid’s invitation as I dislike water.” He cleared his throat and shook his head. “It causes silk to shrink.”
Captain Lynch’s moustache curled into a sneer.
And Tamsyn agreed with him, of course.
She breathed the sea air and shuffled back her chair to stand. “No, please don’t,” she hurriedly said as all the gentlemen made to rise. “I wish to walk a little.”
“Miss Penrose, allow me to accompany you,” pleaded the captain.
He looked most fine today in his acorn-coloured waistcoat and billowing muslin shirt, although oppressive shadows always haunted his uncovered eye and she ached for the pain he too must have endured.
“Thank you, but I… I’d prefer to walk alone.”
And with a nod, she left this convivial setting, ready to confront her last held fear.
Chapter Thirteen
Where there’s a rogue, there’s a way.
Where the devil was she?
Upon Jack’s last furtive glance at his fob watch, nigh half hour had passed since Tamsyn had faded from sight beyond the crags laid bare by low tide and toward the hidden caves.
Guests now languished in the reposing area, chatting or lightly dozing, but Jack anxiously scanned the beach for returning grey skirts. All that caught his eye, however, was a gull dipping into the sea to rise gleefully with a flash of silver.
He tugged out his fob watch again, clicking open the case.
