Page 1 of The Secret of Drulea Cottage
Prologue
A dark-haired woman hesitated at the bedside. Her mother lay so still, so peaceful. If not for her ragged breathing, she would almost look like she was already gone.
Slowly, the older woman’s eyelids fluttered open to reveal strange amber eyes, identical to the ones now staring back at her.
“Come closer, peedie[1]freck.[2]Just na too close.”
The younger woman’s breath hitched at the term of endearment. It had been so long since her mother had called her that, so long since she had been a small child content to sit in her mother’s arms.
She did as she was bidden, sitting in the chair nearest Bethany Fairborn’s frail form. Now that Briony was closer, though, the beads of sweat on her mother’s forehead stood out more prominently.
Bethany coughed into her hand several times, making her daughter’s heart clench.
“I shall always love you, my dear bairn.[3]Remember that, no matter what happens. And you must promise me something before I go,” Bethany whispered with all the strength she could muster.
“Anything, Mum,” the young woman answered.
“You must stay away from the water.”
Briony looked down at the floor, holding back tears as she tried to get a handle on herself. She couldn’t fathom why this was her mother’s dying wish, why this was so important.
Is her fear o’ the sea that strong? How can she hate it so much?
Briony felt the enigmatic pull she always did when she thought of the ocean. It called to her in a way she could neither explain nor understand. She had no reason to desire it as she did, for the sea had stolen her father from them years ago. At least, that was what her mother told her since Briony had no memory of the man.
She glanced out the window of the small cottage, wishing she could run to the waves at that very moment and escape the expectation lurking in her mother’s eyes. No matter how Briony replied, she knew she would cause misery; the only question was who would have to bear it.
She turned back to her mother, ignoring the lump in her throat as she said, “I promise.”
At hearing those words, Bethany gave Briony an earnest smile that lit up the room much more than the candles around them. Then, with a small sigh, the older woman closed her eyes and relinquished her spirit.
Briony almost felt it depart, ascending from her mother’s physical form before slipping away.
And it was at that precise moment that a series of bloodcurdling howls rang through the air. The sounds rose from just beyond Everton’s shores, filling the entire village with dread. The only person who didn’t notice them was the young woman herself, for the cries melded with her own moans of anguish as perfectly as if they had all come from the same throat.
A Night of Reluctant Guests
Orkney Islands,[4]1759
Two weeks before Midsummer’s Eve, Briony Fairborn glimpsed a ship coming up near the shore below her cottage. Her home lay on a rocky cliff overlooking the vast blue ocean. Drulea Cottage was well known to passersby, for it stood alone against the horizon as a haunting silhouette whenever someone came to the village of Everton.
On this particular evening, Briony had been sweeping some dirt from her kitchen floor when the unexpected ship caught her eye. At first glance, she could have easily mistaken it for one of the ships Everton often traded with during the warm months. The village was firmly established as a seller of furs and lumber because of the abundant forest that bordered it. It was one of the only places in Orkney that possessed several trees.
But what would a ship be doing coming in at this hour?
The village’s usual trade partners knew better than to come in this late. This ship appeared to be struggling to reach the port, which was understandable with the strong winds that usually met sailors as they arrived. Although Everton welcomed outside trade, strangers often felt a sense of foreboding when their ships came close, almost as if nature herself was urging them to stay away.
Briony watched the ship successfully dock. Since most of the villagers were probably already in bed, she wondered if anyone else had noticed the new arrival. The passengers and crew might need a guide once they departed their vessel. Briony set down her broom and checked her reflection to make sure she was presentable.
Staring back at her was a lovely young woman with thick black hair and amber, almost yellow, eyes. Her cheekbones were prominent, and her skin was clear and pale. Her dear friend, Adaira, often told her she was quite pretty, but Briony expected Adaira was only trying to make her feel better for never getting any suitors.
Once she was ready, Briony marched down the path to the next closest home; it belonged to Mister and Mistress[5]McGuff. They wouldn’t appreciate being called upon without an invitation, especially by her, but Mr. McGuff was one of the village leaders and would want to know about the strangers’ arrival.
Briony slowly raised her fist to the dark wooden door and knocked. After a moment, the door opened, and there stood five-year-old Fergus, his thumb in his mouth. He smiled when he saw her and held out his arms for a hug.
Picking the boy up happily, Briony said, “Hello, Fergus. How are you this evening?”
His little brown eyes scrunched up as if he was about to cry. “My mum’s mad at me, Mistress Briony. She says I should na have let Mr. Gully into sissy’s bed.”
