Page 84 of The Cornish Mermaid

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Morvoren

Ysella arrived in the evening, on horseback, just as Morvoren was returning from Kit’s room a newly engaged young lady. Ysella was dressed once more as a girl and riding sidesaddle. And she brought with her a sizeable bag with all the things required to transform Morvoren into something similar. However, it was with resignation that Morvoren submitted to Jenifry and Ysella helping her back into a pretty, muslin gown and soft slippers. Clothes that made her feel incapable of any action, or even of independent thought. If she was to marry Kit, she would need a little more freedom than these clothes gave her.

The thought that in agreeing to this marriage she’d never be going back to her old time washed over her. Would she miss it? Was loving Kit enough to expunge all she’d had there from her heart? She had to hope it was, because if it wasn’t… No. She wouldn’t think about it. This was her home now. Here with Kit.

Once she was dressed and her hair arranged in a sort of messy updo by Ysella, they went together to Kit’s bedroom to see him.

He was sitting up in bed, propped against a sizeable pile of pillows, his face a little less pale than it had been that morning. Sleep had wrought a change for the better in both him and Morvoren.

“Kit!” Ysella ran to the bed and almost flung herself on him, only a restraining hand from him preventing her landing squarely on his injured arm.

“Steady on, Yzzie,” he said, reprovingly. “Don’t squash me flat.”

She retreated a few inches, and Morvoren drew up a stool as Ysella lowered herself onto the chair beside his bed. Ysella’s small hand found Kit’s and hung on tightly. “I’m so glad you’re not dead.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “Because if you were, who would take me to Town next year for my coming out?” She gave a nervous giggle and glanced at Morvoren. “And what would I do without Morvoren for a sister-in-law?”

“She’s told you?” Kit asked.

Ysella and Morvoren nodded together, and Ysella wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. “I couldn’t be happier for you. I told you, didn’t I? Right back when you first brought dear Morvoren to Ormonde. That you were meant for one another.” She paused, a small frown furrowing her brow. “But you must promise me—no, promise us both—that your days as a free trader are done.”

Morvoren’s gaze moved to Kit’s face. Would he do that? For his sister and for her?

He sucked in his lips and sighed, silent for a moment. Then, “I fear our activities down here will be severely curtailed by Captain Carlyon and his redcoats for some time to come. So, although I can’t promise never to be tempted that way again, I suppose I can say that at least for the foreseeable future, I will be steering clear of free trading.”

Morvoren narrowed her eyes. A good way of not promising but placating them at the same time. Sneaky. But if she was to be his wife, then she could make sure he never again got the opportunity to put his life in danger.

She patted Ysella’s hand where it still clung onto Kit’s. “Don’t worry. I shall find some other ways for Kit to help the poor. He won’t be needing to be a free trader any longer.”

Ysella beamed, more tears in her eyes and running down her cheeks.

*

Morvoren

A Month Later

“Alone at last,” Kit said, with a wicked laugh as he closed the bedroom door with his foot, a little awkwardly as he’d just carried Morvoren across the threshold. “I thought we’d never be allowed to retire.”

“Well,” she said, giving him a demure smile. “It was our wedding breakfast and those were our guests.” Although she had to admit it hadn’t been quite as she’d envisioned getting married would be. No white dress, no crowded church, no dancing afterwards, at least, not the sort she’d have expected in the twenty-first century. And somehow this had made the ceremony more intimate, instilling a glow of contentment in her heart.

The decision had been made; she was a nineteenth-century girl now, and intended to stay that way. With Kit’s proposal a month ago, she’d accepted that she’d never be going back to her old world. Not that the door was in any way accessible, being under the sea. No way was she overcoming her fear of water and learning to swim, especially not underwater, and going off looking for that hidden doorway. And besides which, she loved Kit. No, she’d be staying here in his world.

And now, in the early evening of a warm August day, she was finally upstairs at Carlyon Court with Kit, on their own, married. Her whole body tingled with anticipation of what was to come.

She wriggled in his arms. “You can put me down now, if you like.”

He shook his head and instead carried her across the room to the large four-poster bed. Someone, Ysella perhaps, had scattered rose petals across the counterpane. He set her down and remained bending over her, his face close to hers.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she asked.

“I was just examining my wife’s face, and thinking how beautiful it is, and how lucky I am she chose to remain here with me.”

“But you’re going to kiss me now?”

For answer, he lowered his head and his lips met hers, at first gentle and exploring, then growing hotter and more demanding. Morvoren’s own lips parted and their tongues met, dancing over one another. Her insides tightened with excitement and her arms went round him, pulling him closer.

When they came up for air, both were panting, and in unison they both laughed.