“And, pray, how? Anyway, she’s just a tetchy old lady who lives in a filthy hovel. If she knows any magic, she’ll never share it with me.”
I thought of the sneering faces of the older lads who’d first told us stories about Morag. “If you want to do me a favor, hit Jenken Cowell about a bit for telling us she drinks children’s blood. And blacken Homlyn Murray’s eye for saying she flies over our houses at night to peer at us while we’re in bed. And—”
Lugh laughed, which made his face look even more handsome. “You’ve made your point, Bry. Then she’s not a real witch?”
“No more than you or I. Her house smells something dreadful, but she didn’t have a cauldron, and she doesn’t seem keen on hurting me.” I scrunched up my nose. My arms were sore from yesterday’s work. “Though cleaning her house might finish me off.”
“Folk might not think such wild things about her if she would just pop into town now and then.”
“She can’t. Her leg’s bad.” Lugh gave me a curious look. “She didn’t tell me why. And I don’t plan on asking.”
“Sounds like you’re intending on going back, then.”
“Tomorrow. Besides, if I put in enough hours, I might be able to save enough for a ticket someday.”
Lugh bowed his head, but I didn’t miss his wince. “Do you know where you’d go? Where you’d sleep? What sort of work you’d do to feed yourself?”
“I’d rent a room above a London shop. Maybe even a coffeehouse. Can you picture it? Me, a shopgirl?” I tried to keep the excitement from my voice for fear of offending Lugh. “Imagine—hot tea and biscuits whenever I wanted! And I’d find a library where I could read as many books as I pleased. It wouldn’t be an easy life, I’m certain, but it would be all my own. And far from the sea.”
Lugh frowned harder. “You’ve really thought this through. Is it so miserable here?”
I sighed.
“Let’s see: it’s too salty, too damp, too cold, too—”
“Full of people who care about you?” Lugh stopped without warning, nearly losing his grip on a basket of potatoes. He shifted it higher in his arms and signaled for us to continue on. “What about your family? Your friends? Everything you know is here.”
“There are plenty of folk I’d miss. Some especially so.” I gave him a pointed look. “I hope they’d miss me just as much, and that they’d come to visit often. It’s not as if I plan to move to China. Or the moon.”
The corners of Lugh’s mouth twitched, but he said nothing more.
As we rounded a bend, I raised my eyes to avoid the sight of the rolling waves. One glance at the steely sky told me the ocean would be equally dark. Closely guarding its secrets. And though I hadn’t seen the black fin since that day in the harbor, I had a gnawing suspicion the creature was making itself at home here. A creature that size might be responsible for scaring away fish from our shores.
“Bry? Are you all right? You’re staring at that custard like you want to hurl it into the trees.”
I turned my head to hide my burning face. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about—” I paused, casting around for a topic other than mysterious water-dwellers. “—Da’s knife. I borrowed it to take to Morag’s and brought it home covered in sap. He said the blade’s ruined. But you know Da. He’s never harsh. He just told me we’d save up for a new one when there’re more fish in his nets again.”
Lugh grinned. “Wish my da was more like yours.”
“What’re you going on about? Your da’s always been kind. Quiet, I suppose. At least folk don’t whisper behind your back about how he’s too soft.”
“I just meant he expects a lot of me—being his only son and all. And, anyway, no one wags their tongues about you. Not that I’ve heard. Your da gives you girls so much freedom, I think the others, they envy you, even if they don’t realize it.”
“Really? They envy Mally’s trysts and my prowling the woods?”
I doubted Da would mind if responsible Liss was more like Mally and me. Mam, on the other hand, would have minded our antics a great deal more if her headaches didn’t so often confine her to her room.
By the time Lugh and I reached the row of proud stone homes that hid our older, shabbier cottages from view, the gray day was being replaced by a breezy, indigo night.
“Thank you for accompanying me today.” I debated quickening my pace, longing to free my hands of the bothersome custard, while wanting to spend more time at Lugh’s side.
“Anytime.” Lugh flashed a smile, then looked from the road to the grassy slope on our left. “I know it’s late, but how do you feel about taking a not-so-shortcut?”
We ambled toward home by way of the slope, navigating a swath of wildflowers and reedy grasses. I kept my eyes trained on the ground as I trampled weeds, still aware of the sigh of the sea.
I tried to distract myself with conversation. “Do you think someone will hear from Nessa Daley soon? Or the dead girl’s kin?”