She was a good thirty feet above us, but I knew that wary look when I saw it. It was on her face as well as the coachman’s. I wondered if my brothers were baring their teeth in anticipation of a fine meal.
We crossed paths—her on the high road and I below. I kept my eyes on the lass and watched her draw herself inside only to see her thrown at the opposite seat when her conveyance slammed to a brutal halt.
My heart bucked and I dug into the sand, my brothers all stopping around me. For some reason, I thanked the heavens she had no’ remained hanging out the window.
I noticed the placement of the carriage wheels and adrenaline shot through me. No’ thinking, I charged up the steep rise from the beach and toward her. Focusing on my steps, I was no’ expecting to reach the summit and look up to find the lass on her knees at the window with such a spellbound expression on her face.
I skidded to a standstill, my heaving chest nearly colliding with the side of her coach—it was that bloody close to the edge. My nostrils opened with each intake of air as her golden eyes fixed themselves to my cerulean ones and I knew mine had to look wild. I’d already assessed the life-threatening situation and kent I would need to act fast. But I was awestruck and frozen in place as she reached out the window to touch my face, as if she was lured to do so, but she snapped to attention and jerked back. I was thankful, as I, too, came to my senses.
I flung an angry warning at the driver as he had been watching my brothers and me, rather than the road. He’d no’ followed the curve and hit the embankment at the edge of the cliff. I turned back to see the lass glance down and shrink back at the sight of the steep drop just beneath the coach wheels. She was no longer dazed, but now understood the seriousness of her situation.
I heard panic in the driver’s voice as he yelped a command in Gaelic while whipping the team forward—damn fool! Alarm clenched my insides when I felt the loose rocks beneath us move and a few toppled toward the beach. The weight of the coach shifted. I saw the horror on the lass’s face as she braced herself and the coach leaned severely toward me. It would take us all over the steep ledge.
I could have saved myself, but for reasons I could no’ explain, the chance of the lass plunging to her death was unthinkable. Without another thought for my own life I took the weight of the coach on my back and it jarred to a halt. It seemed all creation held her breath as I stared at the lass’s innocent face. I could no’ take my sight from her as she struggled to hold tight to the doorframe and no’ fall to her doom. Her terrified eyes were riveted on mine, and I heard the descent of a book as it tumbled out the window, skipping from rock to rock until it made a dull thud on the beach below. I could no’ let her do the same.
I felt the earth giving beneath me and my limbs shook with the heaviness of my burden. I heaved with a loud groan, causing another shift and the two wheels that were lifted high slammed suddenly back to the ground as the lass hit the seat.
Still feeling distressed, I looked at her, worried I might no’ see her again, but knowing there was no time to spare, I lowered my head and put my weight into the corner of the coach. With a sudden release, the wheels cleared the mound and they joggled back onto the road. The driver didnae let up, but whipped and yelled, urging the team until they were racing up the hill.
With the fear of the mishap fading quickly from my bones, I, too, ran onto the road and watched the lass spring to the rear seat where she watched me out the back window. Though the fear was gone, I still felt ill at ease and shifted uncomfortably, wondering what had just happened that I’d saved a human lassie I would normally eat. I continued to watch the breathtaking creature as the distance spread out between us.
I heard my brothers on the beach below calling me back, so I turned abruptly in a mighty charge and leapt over the ridge, rejoining them in the tide just as I looked and saw the lass’s coach go over the rise.
When the others were no’ with me, I’d gone back to the beach and found the book—Gulliver’s Travels—that I’d seen fall from the coach. That night, when I opened it in my room, I discovered the pages had been infused with her scent. At that moment, I knew I’d never be the same soul I’d been before that day.
As expected, I could no’ stop dreaming of her innocent face each time I’d closed my eyes or held the book to my nose, breathing her in. I’d read the book more than a few times thinking it would help me feel I knew her. Based on her marked pages, what I’d learned was that she had a taste for adventure and liked horses a great deal—a fact that gave promise to my dreams.
Then, with so many months coming and going with no sign of her passing back through, I lost hope and tried to forget my encounter with the lass. But I found I could no’. Nor could I bring myself to get rid of the book—it still rested at my bedside and still smelled of her. That hadn’t helped me forget either.
I’d been so angry when that damn clumsy driver hit that mound at the precipice and nearly killed her. I wanted to bite his bloody head clean off his body, but found there was no time for anger as the coach started over the ledge, and I realized I would have done anything to save the lass inside—a human lassie I didnae even know.
Looking into her eyes now, it dawned on me that I had saved her for a second time. Maybe the goddess was trying to tell me something. Maybe this female was an answered prayer.
Whatever she was, I had to fix my slip-up. I was no’ horse nor human, but ech-ooshkya, with different forms. I wore them as naturally as a man wore a coat, and was no’ always conscious of which I had on. The forms were no’ me; my soul was me. I’d made my comment without thinking of the fact I’d been in horse form the day she’d been in the coach.
I shook my head. “No, come to think of it, it could no’ have been ye. The lass I met on the road was older. And married.” My brows pressed in. “Are ye married?”
She shook her head, and my heart felt lighter. “Well then, ye see, it couldn’t have been ye. Are ye all right, lass? Did that monster hurt ye?”
“I’m all right. I have you to thank for that. Thank you … truly.
I gave a nod. “Who was he?”
She frowned and licked her lips, but shook her head. “Do … do you think he’s hurt badly?”
“He’ll survive. Though I should have killed him, forcing his way onto ye like that. The devil. What were ye doing here with the man?”
“I wasn’t here with him.” She paused. “I don’t know him. I live in town and had walked here for a stroll along the beach. He just appeared.”
“I see. Well, ye’re safe now. Can I sit beside ye?”
She nodded, and I turned, settling onto the sand and grass. Offering her time to calm her soul, I followed her gaze and looked out at the water for a few quiet minutes.
“D’ye mind if I ask yer name?” I said finally.
“Oh. Jinny Fairchild.”
I smiled. “Jinny—white wave. That will do.” I reached over in hopes she’d give me her hand. “I’m Douglass McGrail, and yer servant.”
Her face lit with recognition. I wondered why.
She slipped her trembling fingers into mine. Though ’twas no’ chilly out, the slender digits were cold as the deep sea. I squeezed them gently and didnae release them, but kept them wrapped warmly in my hand. Her gaze studied mine for a wee moment, and she looked back out at the water.
“Don’t you mean my savior?” she said.
“Aye, I suppose. I’m happy to be both.”
“You must be. It isn’t every man who saves a young miss twice in her life before being introduced to her.”
I chuckled and nearly agreed, but realized what her words revealed. I looked at the lass, and her gaze met mine.
“What d’ye mean?” I said.
“I think you know.”
My heart did an odd hiccup.
“I think I don’t. Enlighten me.”
She looked back out at the water, watching the waves lapping in, but my gaze never left her face. She said softly, “The most extraordinary thing h
appened to me several months ago. The coach I was traveling in was in an accident. I would have met my doom had not a great stallion—black and majestic—come to my rescue. I’d never seen a living thing so magnificent, as he climbed the steep rise to reach me.”
My breathing was suddenly off. She thought me magnificent? But where was she going with this? She surely didnae know ’twas I.
“And he was intelligent. The creature wasn’t like any horse I’d encountered before that day, or after. Though horses are smart, this one had decided in a split second that I needed saving, and then he proceeded to do that very thing—he thought like a human.”
With her gaze still out to sea, she continued. “It’s rumored there might be an ech-ooshkya running these parts.”
The mention of my kind sent my heart kicking around in my chest, and I hoped she could no’ hear it. I was thankful her eyes were looking somewhere other than at me. I slipped my fingers from hers, afraid she could feel my racing pulse.
My body was reacting strangely to her words—even with the panic provoked in me from hearing her speak the name of my kind, it also provoked a strange kind of arousal, as she’d enunciated the word with perfect brogue. I’d never heard a human say the word and wanted to hear this one say it again and again.
I forced my breath steady while keeping my voice as even as I could manage. “Is that so? Well, what do such rumors have to do with me personally?”
She was quiet, still watching the waves. “You do realize your eyes are a very distinct color of blue—more blue-green I’d say—like the deep sea when she’s showing her temper?”
She looked at me then.
Stone the crows! Tell me she does no’ ken ’twas I on the road that day.
I remained calm. “Aye, so I’ve been told. What point are ye trying to make to me, lass?”
She lifted her gaze higher. It followed the line of my hair hanging on my forehead and around my ears.
“They’re not true, you know.”
What the devil is she talking about?
“What’s no’ true, Miss Jinny Fairchild?”
“The myths.”
Bloody hell!
“What myths?”
She looked down and plucked a twig from the sand, fidgeting with the stem … quiet. I thought she had no plans to answer, but then: “I see no waterweeds, sand, or mud in your hair.” Her gaze lifted to mine. “And I don’t think you’re cruel at all.”
Chapter seven
Douglass McGrail
I thought my heart would buck clean out of my chest. I knew the myths concerning my kind. She did, no doubt, ken ’twas I on the road that day. Could the goddess have sent the lass to me?
Dark thoughts began seeping into the nooks and crannies of my brain …
Will she tell others and endanger my clan?
Am I playing with fire to even be sitting here talking to the lass? There is a reason why Da forbids it, as all the clan chiefs before him have, too.
Should I do what my kind has done with her kind since the beginning and take her with me to the deep?
That thought sent a sick rush through me, and I knew I could never hurt her. But others in my family would no’ have such reservations. What might they do if they thought she’d guessed what we were? Fear tightened its strong arms around my chest—fear that if anything should happen to take her life, what might I do to the one responsible?
“Ye have a wild imagination, Jinny Fairchild. One that could get a man and his clansmen hunted down and killed if others believed it to be more than imagination.”
She turned her body toward mine, like a friend about to confide to another. Taking my hand again, she said softly, “You’ve saved me twice. It’s fine to just call me Jinny. I’m going to assume I can call you Douglass?”
I nodded. “I believe I’d like ye calling me Douglass.”
“Good. Then I will tell you, Douglass, that I’m no stranger to the cruelty of mankind. Please know that even if you hadn’t twice saved my life, I would never tell anyone. I know what would happen to you and your clan.”
Even after what she’d just been through at the hands of that brutal stranger, I got the feeling she didnae speak only of that experience.
“I ken ye don’t mean merely today. What have ye seen to make ye say that?”
She shook her head. “Things I try not to think about, and wish I didn’t remember.”
“Tell me, Jinny. I want to hear it. I have the odd feeling I need to hear it.”
She studied my open gaze for a moment, and nodded.
“My father captained a ship. It’s where I grew up—on Papa’s ship traveling the world. I received a broad education, learning mostly from Mr. Fitch, who traveled with us, educating me concerning each place to which we journeyed.”
“Mr. Fitch?”
“My teacher, a kind man from Derbyshire who knew everything about everything.” She smiled with a distant look. “It might sound glamorous and it actually was at times, but there were other times that weren’t so enchanting. We came upon some disturbing things over the years. On one occasion, we met a ship of men doing the cruelest things to other living creatures—your kind.”
“What do ye mean, ‘my kind’?”
“Well, not the ech-ooshkya precisely, but legendary creatures.”
There it was. She’d said it again, and she was as confident in her deduction of my species as she was that I was the man sitting here beside her who’d just saved her life. And again, I was aroused to hear the sound roll from her throat—ech-ooshkya.
She sighed. “One incident in particular has weighed heavily on my heart.”
Her honesty, lack of fear toward me, and willingness to see me as a friend drove me to give up the pretense. I didnae deny her assumption of what I was, and asked, “What incident? And to what creature do ye refer?”
She drew a sad breath, followed by a moment of silence. “Two years ago I was witness to the capture of some merpeople—a mermaid and a merman. Our ship approached a pirate ship that was owned by one of my father’s old schoolmates turned bootlegger, the third son of a baron. His crew had captured the creatures in some nets they’d cast, evidently for that very purpose. By the time we arrived, the crewmembers were doing perverse and disgusting things to the maid, and her partner could do nothing more than look on. I wanted so badly for Papa to stop them, and even begged him, but he refused and demanded I stay below deck, concerned for my safety. I crept back above deck but stayed hidden, watching. The maid didn’t even fight back. My heart ached for her partner bearing witness to such a thing. How could she just give up?”
Sitting close enough to get away with it, I shifted a bit so my hand rested in the sand, touching her. My longing to comfort her was surprisingly great, but I kent I should no’ be too forward.
“Were she and her mate no’ bound at the wrists?” I asked.
“They were, but she could have done something to show her partner she cared for his plight.”
“And what about her plight? ’Twas happening to her.”
“True, and I felt horrible for her, but her plight was the same—she would die either way.”
“And did she die?”
“Yes.” Tears came to Jinny’s eyes, and I felt a tugging on my heart.
“Did her partner die?”
“No.” Her head swung gently. “Although they’d beat him, they’d kept him alive all night, dousing him with water so he’d had to watch their cruelty toward his mate. They were planning to torture him further come daybreak and keep him alive until he told them where some ridiculous treasure was that they were looking for. The crew had all been drinking, and finally all of them slept. Some had passed out. I devised a plan and talked Huck into helping me.”
“Huck?”
“My father’s first mate.” Her gaze flitted over my chest and shoulders. “Huck was the biggest man I’d ever seen, until seeing you coming to my rescue today.”
The way she looked at my body made my blood w
arm. I swallowed.
“Anyway.” Her gaze darted to her lap. “An hour before sunrise, Huck and I boarded their ship. We cut the poor soul loose and helped him back into the water.”
“Ye saved him?”
“Yes.”
“A man ye didnae even know? And someone no’ of yer own kind? Ye put yer life in danger for him?”
She gave me a wry look. “I suppose you would never do such a thing as saving someone you didn’t know, and someone not of your own kind?”
“What I did was different. Ye’re female; I’m male. I did no’ risk my life to save ye.”
“You didn’t know that at the time. You nearly went over the cliff with our coach. And what if my attacker had carried a gun or knife?”
“Pfftt.” I waved off the thought. “I was no’ worried about him doing me any damage. But what ye did took true courage and enough compassion toward a species no’ your own to make ye act. Like I said, ye could have been killed … or worse.” The thought put a bitter taste in my mouth. “Yer da probably wanted to ring yer bonnie neck for pulling off a thing like that.”
“He did, but I had no choice. How could I live with myself if I’d left that poor creature at their mercy … or lack of it? He’d suffered so much already. In fact, he begged us to give him his mate’s lifeless body and I couldn’t bring myself to refuse him, but by that time the sun was turning the darkened horizon the slightest burnt color. Huck and I had to hurry as we tied the mermaid with a rope, lowering her overboard as well, and into his waiting arms. When we were back aboard our ship, I woke Papa quickly and told him what I’d done so we could take flight before his old schoolmate awoke to discover my deed.”
Respect already swelled in my heart for Jinny. Her bravery and compassion touched me deep inside, and at that moment, I kent my family was safe in her hands. The lass’s spirit had somehow captured my affection, more even than her beauty had that first day.
We spent the next hours talking and getting to know one another, and I found myself more and more drawn to Jinny’s kindness and gentle nature. By the time the sun met the sea, I felt convinced that a unique friendship had blossomed between lion and lamb, and even something much more on my behalf.
Falling in Deep Collection Box Set Page 121
