Isabel went to her mother and took both of her hands, squeezing them in an attempt to comfort her. ‘It is the truth, Mama,’ she said, and as she spoke she allowed the Glamour which camouflaged her appearance to gradually fade. ‘As you can see.’
Mrs. Ellerby could only stare at her daughter’s changed face, speechless with dismay.
‘Is it so very bad?’ said Isabel. ‘I am different, as you see. But must it be deplored?’
‘Oh, Isabel,’ whispered her mother. ‘You do not understand! Society will never accept you! Not with those eyes, and that hair. My mother…’ she faltered, glanced at Eliza, and continued, ‘My mother was talked about. Whispers and gossip and chatter, until she could bear it no longer! And she hid herself, until the people who had shunned her began to treat her with at least the appearance of civility. But the whispers never wholly died away! She was not trusted, and in the best houses, never fully welcomed.’ She tilted her head towards Isabel, and said in a lower voice, ‘There may be nothing wrong with the Ayliri, my dear, but they are not as we are. It would be like having someone foreign for a husband.’
Isabel knew that when she said foreign, she meant someone with differently coloured skin. ‘I cannot consider that something to be ashamed of in either case, Mama. Mr. Talthimandar is a good man, and I am your daughter — even if I am also an Aylir witch.’
Mrs. Ellerby’s eyes filled, and tears spilled down her cheeks. She pulled her hands out of Isabel’s grasp and allowed herself to be supported by her husband. Isabel noted that her father looked no more convinced of her arguments than did her mother, and sighed.
Talthimandar spoke up. ‘It is true that I came t’ seek yer permission t’ court yer daughter,’ he said quietly. ‘As I understand is the convention in these parts. If ye will give me a chance an’ get t’ know me, ye may find I am not so different as ye think. Nor so objectionable.’ He looked at Isabel, and added, ‘That is, if Miss Isabel will permit me.’ He smiled at her with obvious appreciation, and spoke directly to her. ‘Fer my part, I think yer real face is every bit as charmin’ as t’other.’
Looking at Talthimandar, Isabel felt all of the delight and anticipation at the prospect of his courtship that had been so lacking in her dealings with Mr. Thompson. It was the liveliness of his spirit that enchanted her so, perhaps; the quickness of his mind and his wit; the peculiar gallantry of his manners, and the fascinating eccentricity of his behaviour. It was the dignity he had shown under the burden of the curse which had bound him to his boat; his refusal to descend into self-pity, or to blame another for his actions — even when he had clear enough cause to do so. It was his unabashed exuberance in being freed from the curse, and the unbridled joy he had shown — so far from the stiff, respectable, sensible behaviour that she had been used to show herself, and to experience in others.
And it was in the reasons why he sought Isabel. It could have nothing to do with the respectability of her family or the inheritance she one day expected to receive; he could know nothing of such things, nor was he likely to care. And she felt fully persuaded that it had nothing to do with her looks, for even in the heights of her beauty she was to the Ayliri of Aylfenhame as a candle to the sun.
She might have hoped that Mr. Thompson sought her for her own self, but in Talthimandar’s case she was certain of it. ‘I do permit it,’ she said to him, smiling for the first time that day. ‘And Mama and Papa will not forbid it.’ She looked at her parents as she spoke, allowing all of her hope and fear to show in her face.
‘You really ought to allow it, father,’ said Charles unexpectedly, who had hitherto kept his thoughts to himself. ‘It is perfectly obvious that Isa’s happiness is at stake here. She ought to be trusted to decide for herself where it is most likely to lie, should she not? You have always said that she has a good head on her shoulders, and has never been given to wild flights of fancy.’
Isabel cast her brother a grateful look, and received a wink in return. His words did not appear to operate upon their father as he might have hoped, for Mr. Ellerby’s frown deepened, and she could see that he was working himself into one of his fits of disapproval. He would burst forth any moment in an angry tirade, and none of the opinions or judgements he expressed would be at all to Talthimandar’s taste — or her own. She braced herself for the onslaught, biting her lip to hold back the tears of frustration and dismay which began to approach.
Talthimandar’s hand crept into her own, and she gently squeezed his fingers, attempting to offer all the silent comfort in her power.
But her father’s indignation seemed abruptly to dissipate. He said nothing at all for some time, except to direct some soothing comment to his wife. When at last Mrs. Ellerby had composed herself, he said brusquely to Talthimandar: ‘Which property were you planning to purchase?’
Talthimandar blinked. ‘I… had not yet proceeded so far with my plans.’
Mr. Ellerby sighed, and beckoned to the erstwhile Ferryman. ‘You may speak with me in my study.’ He turned and left the hallway the moment these words were spoken, and did not wait to see whether Talthimandar followed.
‘Mr. Ellerby!’ wailed his wife. Her remonstrance failed to stop him, and she was left to the comfort of her sister’s embrace. Eliza winked at Isabel as she led Harriet away, and smiled her dazzling approbation of her niece’s choice. Tafferty followed them, pausing only to press her nose against Isabel’s leg by way of farewell.
Mr. Thompson, Isabel that moment realised, had quietly withdrawn at some point during the discussion, and Tiltager was also nowhere in evidence. Her brother now also took his leave, pausing to bestow an affectionate kiss upon Isabel and a cordial handshake upon Talthimandar. ‘Father will come around,’ he said. ‘Mother will take longer, I’m afraid. She has many years of ingrained prejudice to overcome.’ He departed, leaving Isabel alone with the Ferryman.
Talthimandar looked at Isabel. ‘D’ ye really wish me t’ proceed?’ he said softly. ‘Ye need say but a single word, if’n ye don’t, an’ I shall go away at once.’
Isabel could not help contrasting this deference to her choices with Mr. Thompson’s reluctance to accept her refusal, and liking Talthimandar the better for it. She gave him her hands, and smiled up at him with unreserved approval. ‘I do not wish for you to go away,’ she said. ‘Not ever.’
He squeezed her hands, and kissed them. ‘Then I will speak wi’ yer father.’ He touched her gold-streaked hair, very gently, and kissed her cheek.
Alleny, one of Ferndeane’s brownies, tapped his knee. ‘I will take you to the Master’s study,’ she said in her soft voice.
‘Thankin’ ye,’ said Talthimandar, and gestured for her to lead on. Isabel watched as her Ferryman left the hall in the wake of the tiny brownie, her heart swelling with love and joy and relief until she felt in danger of bursting with so much felicity.
Well, now! We ‘ave reached the end o’ my tale, which I think to be somethin’ of a shame. I ‘ave right enjoyed talkin’ to ye. An odd bundle o’ happenin’s, were they not? Strange things come to pass when the worlds of England an’ Aylfenhame ‘appen to collide, an’ no mistake.
Talthimandar did settle in England, if ye were wonderin’. He got hisself a nice little place ‘bout two miles from Tilby, an’ there he an’ Miss Isabel went to live straight after they was married. Oh, but Mrs. Aylfendeane, I should say! An odd name, perhaps, but it were chosen to satisfy the requirements o’ society, an’ to reflect both his heritage an’ hers. Fer my part, I think it rather fine.
I am sorry to say tha’ Mrs. Ellerby was not wholly wrong in her doomin’ an’ gloomin’. There’s talk about the Aylfendeanes o’ Somerdale, an’ some as will ‘ave nowt to do wi’ them. But Mrs. Isabel cares nothin’ fer that. An’ why should she? Them as matters ‘ave grown used to her face, an’ accepted her husband, an’ thas all she wanted.
They’s often in Aylfenhame, as ye may imagine. There’s a new Keeper o’ the Ferry Boat Mirisane, now, an’ the lass is often seen around Some
rdale, pickin’ up the Aylfendeanes or droppin’ them back home. I’m happy to say tha’ Miss Landon an’ Aubranael are often visitin’ at Somerdale, too, now tha’ travellin’ betwixt their realm an’ this is a mite easier. Some say tha’ freer passage is to be a growin’ thing, now, an’ I did hear word tha’ there’s a new ferry-boat bein’ built. Not news to please all, I’ll wager, but I think it a mighty fine thing indeed.
There’s just one disquietin’ matter on my mind, which I’ll share wi’ ye before ye go. Who was it that gave Talthimandar’s name to Miss Isabel? It were none o’ Lyrriant’s folk, or so he says. I mislike tha’ it was done so clandestine-like, an’ on the Kostigern’s own property besides. There’s more to that than meets the eye, mark my words, an’ I mislike my Isabel bein’ beholden t’ whoever-he-be.
An’ what o’ tha’ tricksy Grunewald? His Majesty the Goblin King, if ye please? I don’t rightly know what he was gettin’ hisself up to wi’ meddlin’ at the Chronicler’s Library, but he ‘ad a purpose. No doubt about it. What that might ha’ been, though? Yer guess is as good as mine.
If ye should happen to pass this way again in the future, stop a while wi’ me. Mayhap I’ll have more to tell ye. Fer now, though, I wish ye a good journey! Mind the road towards Toynton, now. It’s dry enough at this time o’ year, but there’s a stretch as’ll do yer carriage-wheels no good if’n ye go too fast. I’ll ‘ave a quick word wi’ yer coachman.
***
End Notes
Thank you for reading Miss Ellerby and the Ferryman. I hope you enjoyed the read! The next book, Bessie Bell and the Goblin King, is coming in 2016. Click here to pre-order.
If you'd like to be the first to know when the next Tales of Aylfenhame book is released, sign up to my email newsletter at http://www.charlotteenglish.com/newsletter.
Find me online:
Website: www.charlotteenglish.com
Twitter: @charlottenglish
Facebook: www.facebook.com/CharlotteEEnglish
Art credits:
Cover design by Elsa Kroese (elsakroese.com)
Illustrations by Rosie Lauren Smith (autumnalchemy.blogspot.com)
Also by Charlotte E. English:
Tales of Aylfenhame
Miss Landon and Aubranael
Miss Ellerby and the Ferryman
Bessie Bell and the Goblin King (Coming 2016)
The Draykon Series
Draykon
Lokant
Orlind
The Lokant Libraries
Seven Dreams
The Malykant Mysteries
The Rostikov Legacy
The Ivanov Diamond
Myrrolen's Ghost Circus
Ghostspeaker
The Drifting Isle Chronicles
Black Mercury
Miss Ellerby and the Ferryman Page 28
