So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)

The door opened and Jeffrey peered inside. “I brought you some food.”

“Oh.” She opened the door to let in more light from the passageway. The scent of roast beef made her mouth water. “Thank you.”

Jeffrey set the tray on the table, then hurried back out. “I’ll bring you a lantern.”

In a few minutes he was back, and Brigitta held a chair for him to climb up and replace the old lantern on the ceiling hook.

“There.” He jumped down from the chair. “Rupert heard you didn’t have any dinner, so he told me to bring you something nice.”

Brigitta’s heart did a little leap. Rupert might be avoiding her, but he hadn’t forgotten her.

With her appetite back, she sat down to eat. What could be so important about his secrets that he couldn’t let anyone know? Did it have something to do with his plan of revenge against her brother? Why did he hate Gunther so much?

Gunther was twelve years older than her. Rupert was seven years older, or six and a half to be precise. Any way she looked at it, it seemed like Gunther would have been too young to have killed Rupert’s father, yet he was the one Rupert had targeted for revenge.

She replayed the vision of the ambush in her mind. The men had been on horseback. Some wearing uniforms. Guards? Others had been richly clothed in velvet with fur-lined capes. Nobles.

Rupert’s father had been a nobleman.

If Gunther hadn’t killed Rupert’s father, then—Brigitta dropped her fork with a clatter. No, not her father.

Her heart pounded as she tried to stop where her thoughts were going. Had her father killed Rupert’s father? Good goddesses, no!

She jumped to her feet. No, no. She didn’t want to believe it.

But she knew from her history lessons that Tourin had long been plagued with uprisings and civil war. It was not uncommon for a king to demolish a noble family if he considered them traitors. If Rupert did come from nobility and his entire family had been wiped out, who but a king would have had the power to do that?

She paced about the room. This couldn’t be it. She was mistaken. There had to be some other explanation. She just needed to reexamine all the visions. There had to be a way to fit the puzzle pieces together so they would construct an entirely different picture.

For how could she live with the notion that her father had killed Rupert’s father?

“It can’t be true.” She stopped with a jerk. If it was true, Rupert would know.

Her knees gave out and she collapsed on the floor.

He would hate her.

*

The next day, when Jeffrey came to their cabin to collect their luncheon tray, he announced, “The captain said you could go on deck now. We’re approaching Rupert’s Island.”

“Oh, how exciting!” Sister Fallyn leaped to her feet and ran toward the open doorway.

Brigitta helped Jeffrey stack their plates and bowls on the tray.

He gave her a worried look. “You didn’t eat very much. And you hardly ate anything last night.”

She attempted a smile. “I’ll be all right.”

Jeffrey didn’t look convinced. “The island is a nice place. If I didn’t want to be a sea captain someday, I would be happy to live there.”

“I’m sure it will be lovely.” Tears threatened once again, and she blinked them away. She’d cried enough last night. Self-pity wasn’t going to change anything. It couldn’t change the fact that she was going to spend her life in hiding. It couldn’t reunite her with her sisters. It couldn’t make it possible for her and Rupert to have a happy ending.

Sister Fallyn huffed outside the door. “Are ye not coming?”

Brigitta followed the nun up the steps. On deck, a cool breeze helped wipe away some of the grogginess of a sleepless night. Her gaze lifted automatically to the crow’s nest. Rupert was there, his back to her, and she was surprised to see him wearing his mask, scarf, and hat once again. Good goddesses, he even disguised himself on his own island? Did the man trust no one?

He’d let her see his face and hair. He’d given her that much trust. Did he now regret it?

“Brigitta, look!” Sister Fallyn called from the starboard railing.

As she approached the railing, she saw an emerald-green island rising out of the blue sea. Seagulls cawed as they swooped back and forth along the rocky coastline.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Sister Fallyn made the sign of the moons. “Thank the goddesses we have found a safe refuge.”

An exile, Brigitta thought, although she had to admit the island was lovely. The coastline was jagged with dramatic cliffs and rock formations.

“Look!” Sister Fallyn pointed at a waterfall that cascaded over a cliff. Where the water plunged into the sea, a shimmering rainbow arched over a cloud of mist.

“Do you like it?” Rupert’s voice tickled her ear as it swept past her on a breeze.

Her heart squeezed. He was talking to her again. “’Tis beautiful.”

“It’s very pleasant during the summer, but the winters can be a bit harsh,” Rupert said.

Brigitta nodded. The breeze here was cooler than what she was accustomed to on the Isle of Moon. This island had to be situated farther north.

Up on the quarterdeck, Stefan called out some orders, and crewmen rushed about, lowering some sails and adjusting others. Brigitta saw the reason why as the ship sailed past a rocky peninsula that jutted into the sea. Just on the other side, a wide bay stretched out before them.

Instead of cliffs, the land sloped gently to a sandy beach. Several whitewashed stone buildings had been built along the shore close to a wooden pier. More stone cottages dotted the green fields.

A horn sounded on the ship, and Brigitta watched as people stopped working in the fields or along the shore. Cottage doors opened and more people peered outside. Soon, they were all waving their arms and running toward the pier.

As the ship moved farther into the bay, Brigitta noticed that most of the people on the pier were women and children. Meanwhile, on deck, Stefan continued to call out orders. With the sails lowered, they crept forward slowly. Anchors were dropped, and the ship shuddered and groaned as it finally came to a stop.

Crewmen wheeled out the pulley system Rupert had invented for loading and unloading supplies. He slid down a rope to direct the crewmen. Stefan joined him as he decided which supplies to load into each dinghy.

Eventually, Stefan walked over to them. “I apologize for the delay. We’ll take you ashore as soon as possible.”

“There’s no hurry,” Brigitta assured him.

Sister Fallyn smiled at him. “The island is every bit as lovely as ye said.”

He smiled back. “I think we’re doing something wonderfully new and different here. For the first time in their lives, these people are not working fields or living in houses that are owned by a nobleman.”

“Ye mean Rupert hasn’t claimed that the island belongs to him?” Brigitta asked.