Page 39 of The Merman's Betrothal
Rory stood sheepishly against the rail, not ready to say good bye but also completely out of sensible ways to continue the conversation.
Oh, there were plenty of insensible ways. Like asking whether the way Fionn travelled so fast in the water was actually magic. Was there some kind of merman hospital or vet that he would take the leatherback to? Did they run some kind of sea life rehabilitation program?
And, after the turtle was safe, when would Rory see Fionn again?
‘You’ll be back, I expect,’ Rory said tersely, staring at a point over Fionn’s shoulder to avoid meeting his gaze.
‘If I am welcome.’
‘If I said you were unwelcome would you stop?’
Fionn deflated a little, like he hadn’t considered this to be a possibility. ‘Am I unwelcome?’
Rather than answer, Rory abruptly turned away. ‘I’m heading home.’
He dripped water across the deck and wondered if he felt warm because his blood was still thumping with adrenaline. Trying not to think about whether Fionn was watching, Rory pulled off his shirt and trousers, replacing them with the drywaterproofs and overcoat. Then he stepped up to the helm and turned theStartowards Ullapool.
After a few minutes he looked behind and scanned the surface of the Minch for any sign of Fionn following him.
He was a little disappointed to find that there wasn’t.
Chapter Twelve
After seeing the leatherback into safe hands at the palace, Fionn was finally free to acknowledge the giddy feeling in his stomach.
Something strange had happened to him after witnessing the eruption of Rory’s bottled-up passion for ocean life. Stranger even than the vibration of his soul when their bond ignited. In a way, Fionn’s first connection to Rory in the club had felt like it was happening to somebody else. Like Fionn was watching their first kiss from afar, unable to prevent his body from answering the call.
This, though, was an extremely internal sensation. As though a shoal of seahorses had taken up residence inside him and were fluttering about behind his ribs. It had begun, on a small scale, when Fionn watched how compassionate Rory became next to the stricken leatherback. His tenderness in cutting away her plastic shackles sent warm tremors down Fionn’s spine.
And then the feeling had burst into a flurry inside his chest when Rory revealed his anger. His righteous, honourable anger that made Fionn question why he didn’t know more about the problems that had inspired such ardour in this otherwise grumpy human. He found himself wanting to provide Rory with answers.
He’d even… by the Deep Gods, Fionn had even suggested that they might leave the Minch together. The thought had never seriously crossed his mind before.
He needed to tell Neacel all of this at once. The young Minchman had invited Fionn to his home previously and Fionn easily remembered the way. Neacel’s underwater cave was tucked into the base of a small nearby island.
Strands of kelp growing from the seabed formed an inverted curtain across the wide entrance. Fionn paused briefly and hollered through it. ‘Neacel! Are you home?’
The response seemed startled. ‘Your Highness?’
Fionn took that as permission and swam inside. He came upon Neacel hurriedly shoving something into a storage alcove. His kilt was lopsided, like he hadn’t quite put it on properly.
‘You need to tighten your kilt,’ Fionn told him helpfully.
Neacel’s cheeks flushed as he rearranged it. ‘How can I help you, Your Highness?’
‘Again, I would prefer you call me Fionn.’
‘I apologise for the habit. Has something happened? You look… exuberant?’
‘Do I?’ Fionn hadn’t considered what his face might be giving away for him. ‘I suppose I am. It has been an eventful day.’
‘Aha. Would you like to tell me over some supper? Here, let’s have some more light.’ Neacel placed his palm on a glass orb that was mounted on the rock wall. The heat of his touch stirred the tiny organisms inside, provoking them to glow. They illuminated the chamber in a soft greenish light. It reflected off a metal chain floating around Neacel’s neck.
‘That’s a pretty thing,’ Fionn remarked. ‘I like the pink gem on it.’
The colour drained from Neacel’s face. ‘It’s. Um. A necklace.’
‘I’ve never seen one like that.’
