Midnight Pearls (13 page)

Pearl dropped her own eyes with a sigh. She found herself picking at a bird that rather resembled a goose. It was really quite good, and she wished she had more of an appetite so that she could enjoy it.

“That’s peacock,” Robert informed her. “The female is a brown color, and the male is bright blue with brightly colored tail feathers.”

He went on to point out other exotic foods on the table. When a tray of fish was offered her, she drew back slightly. Robert waved his hand, and the servant removed it.

“I apologize, you have probably eaten enough fish in your life to never want to eat it again,” Robert said solicitously.

She looked at him gratefully. “I really don’t care to eat fish at all.”

“Then you don’t have to, not now, not ever,” he said.

Soon, Robert was lost in the food and they both ate quietly. From time to time she could feel James’s eyes upon her, but, for the most part he seemed intent on the other woman.

A wave of loneliness swept over her. Mary and Finneas were home, asleep by now, and James, the only other person she knew, might as well have been a world away. She swallowed the lump in her throat and instead spooned a piece of fish onto her plate. Robert noticed and raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask.

The fish sat there while she stared at it. She wondered if Finneas had caught it and if Mary had prepared it for market. In truth, she had no intention of eating it. It was the little piece of home she needed, though. Everything was happening so fast, and the people she most depended on were not available for her to talk to. When at last one of the servants took away her plate with the fish still on it, she felt bereft, alone, and naked.

Soon after that, diners began to leave the table. She made her excuses to Robert and hurried up to her room, wanting more than anything to be alone. She undressed swiftly and donned the sleeping gown that Martha had left out for her.

She was exhausted, but sleep wouldn’t come easily. Too much had happened in too short a time. Her mind kept going over the events of the day, seeking some kind of meaning out of it all.

Where had Kale come from? Was he really a murderer? Remembering the kiss they had shared on the beach made her cheeks burn in the darkness. She couldn’t believe that a murderer could kiss that way.
Not that I’d know anything about kisses
, she thought as she rolled onto her side.

She had known Kale less than an hour and he had kissed her. She couldn’t believe he’d had the audacity. Worse still, she couldn’t believe that she had let him. Why, then, had time seemed to stand still when he’d kissed her? And why did she find herself holding her breath when she remembered it?

Then again, she had known Robert for less than a minute and she was engaged to him. He hadn’t tried to kiss her yet, even though in a week he would have the right to far more than that from her.

She blushed more fiercely thinking about the wedding night. She had thought of marriage in the past, but never that aspect of it. Her stomach twisted in nervous knots, and she couldn’t help but wish that it would be James, or even Kale, whom she would give herself to.

But James was going to marry Faye, the woman who had saved his life. And Kale, she didn’t know where Kale was, but he was probably imprisoned somewhere.
I wonder what’s going to happen to him. Could he have really done those terrible things?

She fell asleep, and the nightmares came back stronger. Only now she watched as James kissed Faye. A hand touched her shoulder, and she turned around to see Robert staring at her. He bent down to kiss her, and over his shoulder she saw Kale staring at her.

She closed her eyes so she would not have to see him, and kissed Robert.

The next day was the busiest in Pearl’s life. For three hours in the morning she was subjected to the not-so-delicate ministrations of the royal seamstress. The woman draped her with various fabrics, took measurements four times, and even managed to stab Pearl’s ankle with one of her needles.

The blood horrified the seamstress more than it did Pearl, though: The woman had turned ash white and muttered apologies for five minutes. Pearl just stared at her, bewildered.
Does she actually think I’m going to do anything to her?
she wondered.

No sooner had the woman left than Sarah was dressing her in a garment much simpler than the velvet one of the night before, which was still more elegant than anything she had ever owned. The dress was scarlet, and as Pearl looked at herself in the reflective glass in her room she couldn’t help but think back to earlier in the week when she had viewed the white of her skin against the red of the tomato she’d bought at market.
Now I’m wearing the tomato
, she thought with a shake of her head.

Once dressed, she was escorted downstairs by the excited maid. Robert was waiting for her in the hall. Walking up to him, she had to admit herself that he was very handsome.

“I thought you could use some fresh air after your busy morning,” he told her. “I thought a picnic would be in order. It will also give us a chance to talk, get to know each other better.”

“That would be nice,” she said, warming to him slightly. He did seem to be thoughtful.

He held out his arm to her, and she took it. Together they walked toward the door. Halfway there, James walked through it, and Pearl felt her heart stop for a moment.

He looked at her, mouth slightly open as though he was about to say something. Then he closed it and dipped his head in acknowledgment.

“Robert … Pearl.”

“Highness,” Robert responded.

“James,” Pearl whispered, her mouth having gone dry.

He took a step closer. He looked like he wanted to say something, and she wished he would, anything to break the dreadful silence that suddenly surrounded them.

Finally he spoke, and his voice sounded hoarse to her. “I want to take this opportunity to congratulate you both. Robert, there is no finer woman than Pearl.”

“A happy fact that I am well-acquainted with,” Robert answered.

“Pearl … the two of you are a handsome pair,” James said, staring deeply into her eyes.

There was something shining in his eyes, but she couldn’t read it. There was more that he wasn’t saying. Frustrated, she nodded to acknowledge that he had spoken.

He straightened up. “I wish the two of you all the happiness that this world has to offer.”

“We are most grateful for your wishes, Highness.”

James nodded and then smiled in a pained manner. “I shall not keep you.”

He left swiftly, and Robert patted her hand. “I thank God he gave me the courage to ask you,” Robert said, loudly enough that James could hear. “Shall we be on our way?”

“Yes.”

The picnic was pleasant, but at the end of it Pearl felt like she knew Robert no better than she had the day before. He told her stories of his childhood and of tournaments he had entered and won. Some of the stories were heroic, some funny, but there was something lacking in all of them. She had no sense of his true personality, his morals, his soul. That worried her.

On the way back to the castle they rode through the center of the village, Pearl sitting before him on his steed. He wrapped an arm possessively around her waist. Pearl had been used to inciting stares and whispers her entire life, but nothing like this. Several people actually began cheering.

I lived a simple life, as a fisherman’s daughter, and they despised and feared me. Now that I am marrying a marquis, they treat me as one of their own
, she thought bitterly.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of satisfaction when the mother of the boy she had saved from the runaway cart looked up at her with a mixture of awe and jealousy on her face.

“Would you mind if we stop and speak with Father Gregory for a moment?” Robert asked her suddenly.

The mention of Father Gregory made Pearl suddenly feel nauseated. Talking to the good father would make it all too real. Still, she forced herself to say, “No, I won’t mind.”

Robert pulled the steed up in front of the church. He dismounted in one fluid motion and helped her down as well. He flipped the reins over the horse’s head and let them dangle toward the ground. The mighty beast made a chuffing sound and shifted his weight onto three legs.

Robert patted the horse’s neck before taking Pearl’s arm and leading her into the church.

Father Gregory had already heard the news and was beaming from ear to ear as he greeted them. She twisted her pearl between her fingers as Robert and Father Gregory talked. Within a minute the time for the ceremony had been set and her fate had been sealed.

Exiting the church, Pearl was shocked to see Thomas kneeling next to Robert’s horse.

“Can I help you, sir?” Robert asked, sounding equally surprised.

The blacksmith rose slowly. He turned and faced them. “Your horse looked like one of his shoes was working itself loose.” He held up his hammer. “He should be good for a couple more days now, but I’ll need to check all his shoes.”

“Thank you,” Robert replied. “I’ll see that one of my servants brings him to you in the morning.”

Thomas nodded. He stared at the ground for a moment and twisted his hands about his hammer. At last he looked up again and looked Pearl in the eyes. “My pleasure.”

“What do I owe you?” Robert asked.

“No charge, milord. Consider it a wedding present. Good luck to you both.”

Shame flooded Pearl. Thomas was a good man, he deserved better than this. She didn’t know what to say, though.

Robert saved her. “Thank you and good day to you, blacksmith,” he said, before hoisting Pearl up onto the saddle. He mounted behind her, and in a moment they were off, leaving behind the blacksmith, the village, and everything she had ever known.

Back at the castle she had yet another meeting with the seamstress and then she met with the cook and the baker. Last, she spoke with a woman about decorations. By the time dinner was being served, she hardly felt like going down. Sarah dressed her, though, and sent her on her way.

The food was just as extravagant as it had been the night before and, just like the night before, she found she had little stomach for it. After dinner she dragged herself back upstairs and quickly fell asleep.

She dreamed that a woman came into her room and shook her shoulders, trying to wake her. Pearl just swatted at her hands and rolled over. Soon the woman disappeared, and Pearl began to dream again, this time the old dreams—and they were just as disturbing as always.

M
ary quaked as the footman helped her into the coach. Finneas climbed in after her and sat on the seat across from her, looking as nervous as she felt. Neither of them had ever been to the castle before and weren’t sure what to expect.

The carriage started with a slight jolt, and Finneas smiled wanly at her.

“How do you think our Pearl is doing?” she asked Finneas.

He smiled. “I imagine she is well.”

She had known him long enough, though, to read beyond the smile, and the look in his eyes was one of worry.

She was worried too. She didn’t know anything about the marquis or his father, the duke.
At least it’s not the blacksmith
, she reminded herself. She just prayed that Pearl was happy. The marquis seemed like a nice enough man, and he could offer Pearl so much.

They reached the castle in short order and were escorted quickly through it to their room. She heard Finneas muttering beside her the entire way.

The walls were of great stone blocks, the same as the rest of the castle. They were covered in tapestries, and the floors were covered with fur rugs. There was a large bed, two small sitting tables with chairs, and a standing wardrobe. A window in the room gave a view of the village.

The servant deposited their bags and, bowing, began to leave.

“Excuse me, could you tell us where to find our daughter, Pearl?” Mary asked before the man could leave.

“I will tell her that you have arrived, ma’am,” the man said. “Dinner will be served in a quarter of an hour.” He bowed and then exited.

“It’s bigger than our whole house,” Finneas noted.

“It’s bigger than three of our houses,” Mary corrected him.

“It’s too big. What does one do with all this space?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I have no idea.” She moved around, inspecting the bed and the other furniture. Everything was heavy-looking, made out of the finest wood.

“I guess we should go find the Hall,” Finneas noted.

Mary nodded, and they went out in search of dinner.

Mary was exhausted. She couldn’t remember ever eating so much. As overwhelming as the food had been, though, sitting at the same table as the king had been more so. She sighed, looking down at her dress. She had been sadly out of fashion, especially compared with Pearl and the girl called Faye.

“What do you think is going to be expected of us as the parents of a marquesa?” she now asked Finneas, back in their room.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. Personally, I just hope to be left alone in our own little house.”

She rolled her eyes at him in a teasing fashion. Finneas was plainspoken, and she knew he had been ill at ease all during dinner.

“What did you think of Faye?” she asked.

He stopped pacing and looked at her. “I think she reminded me a lot of our daughter,” he said warily, taking a step closer to her.

“Me too. You don’t think …”

“That there’s a connection?” Finneas asked. “I don’t know, but it makes me nervous.”

“We always assumed that Pearl was one of a kind, unique.”

“And now we’re both wondering, ‘What if she isn’t?”

Mary nodded.

He shook his head. “We have to ask Pearl what she knows of her.”

Mary laughed nervously. “It’s strange, but after all these years, I almost don’t want to know.”

“I understand,” he said softly. “We know what we both think. Either we’re about to lose everything we’ve believed for so long, or …”

“Or have it confirmed for us,” she breathed.

Silence stretched between them. In their hearts they had always believed that Pearl wasn’t entirely human. Neither knew for sure what she was, but the thought of finding out was a bit overwhelming.
Sometimes it’s better to guess at the truth than know it. Actually, what frightens me more is the thought that we might’ve been wrong all these years.

Finneas picked up a candle. “I’m going to take a look around before bed,” he told her, exiting the room.

The spell was broken, and she laughed out loud. Whether he would say so or not, she knew he was nervous at the thought of sleeping in a place he did not know.

She heard running steps outside the room and turned just as Pearl burst through the door.

“Mama!”

Pearl ran into her arms and began to sob. Bewildered, Mary just held her and let her cry.

At last, when her tears had dried, Mary sat Pearl down upon the bed. “Now tell me, child, what is it that is bothering you?”

“Mama, there’s …just so much, I can’t …,” Pearl choked.

Mary felt tears stinging the back of her eyes. She couldn’t stand to see her child in pain. “Try, baby, please—you used to tell me everything. Well, almost everything,” she joked, waving a hand at their surroundings.

Pearl smiled a little at that, and it warmed Mary’s heart.

“Mama, tell me about that night.”

Mary frowned at her. “What night is that?”

“The night you and Papa found me.”

Mary sighed. The time for avoiding the topic was over—it had to be, even she knew that. “It was Papa who found you. Why do you want to hear it again?”

“I just do.”

Mary’s frown deepened. For years she had successfully avoided Pearl’s many questions on the topic. She didn’t have all the answers. Her Pearl was grown up, though, and the time for questions had come. She wished she felt more prepared, but she wasn’t. All she could tell her was what she knew, what she and Finneas had seen. So many nights Pearl had asked her for the details and Mary had skimmed over them. Tonight, though, it might be different, it must be.

Mary sighed and her face grew very still. “It had been a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and the sky was the brightest blue you ever saw. There was not a cloud anywhere in sight. I remember thinking that there had never been such a beautiful day, at least not in my memory.” She chuckled. “Even Father Gregory was in a good mood.”

Pearl giggled at the mention of the dour old priest. Mary laughed, and Pearl joined her. Finally, they quieted.

Mary sobered, remembering. “Even the ocean was still, as though it were holding its breath. It was Sunday, so your father didn’t take the boat out until after lunch.”

Mary stopped, remembering the feeling of trepidation she had when she saw Finneas off that afternoon. The day had been beautiful, but something had seemed amiss to her, something she couldn’t explain.

Pearl sat with an expectant look, staring at her for several minutes before prompting, “And then?”

Mary turned to look at her, wincing at the memory. “And then everything changed, in a moment. The sky turned black, and the seas started boiling. The rain began to fall in great sheets, and you couldn’t hear anyone speak for the thunder. It was so dark that even the lightning revealed nothing more than a step away from you. Folks say it was the Devil’s Storm. It destroyed half a village five days’ walk from here. I was in the market and somehow I made my way home, though I have never known how. I sat for hours waiting and praying for Finneas to come home. Finally, a voice told me to go look for him. I walked to the beach and I saw him trying to drag the boat up onto the sand. He had fallen, and the boat was slipping back into the water. I put my hands over his and helped heave the boat backward to safety.”

“Father made it home.”

She nodded. “And when he did, he wasn’t alone.”

“I was with him,” Pearl breathed.

Mary nodded. “Yes, you were.”

“The storm came up so fast, I didn’t even have time to start home.”

Pearl jumped, and they both turned to see Finneas standing a few feet away. The light from the candle he was carrying cast shadows across his face but did nothing to hide his piercing eyes.

“I started to pull for shore as hard as I could, but the sea only swept me farther out. At one point I was sure I was going to die. I prayed to God to take care of Mary. It was at that point that I saw a light in the water. I thought an angel was coming to take me. I rowed over and looked down in the water. I saw an angel—just not the kind I was expecting. I saw a little girl treading water.”

Finneas moved and sat down on Pearl’s other side. “Your hair was floating on top of the water, glowing. I pulled you into the boat. You weren’t wearing a stitch of clothing, and when I tried to wrap a wet blanket around you, you just cried and threw it off. Then I began to row again, harder than before. I knew God did not want me to die on that ocean. He would not have led me to find you if He didn’t want me to take you to shore. Eventually we made it to the beach. Mary found us and we ran home.”

“I couldn’t believe what I was seeing,” Mary continued. “You looked about four. Everything about you was small and delicate except your legs, I’ve never seen legs that long on a child.”

“And your eyes,” Finneas added. “They were so big, and such a dark blue-black.”

“When Finneas set you down you didn’t move, and you were so pale that I thought you were dead, drowned. But then you looked up at me and said something I couldn’t understand. You didn’t speak English. Not a word for almost an entire season. And then, when you did speak, the first word you said was ‘Papa.’ Then you spoke naturally, like you’d been learning all those words and saving them up.”

“Your skin was so pale,” Finneas added, “that when you held your hand up to the fire, it was as though I could see through it. We both could.”

“We told everyone that you were the child of one of my cousins who lived in the village that was destroyed by the storm,” Mary explained.

“And this pearl?” Pearl questioned, fingering it.

“You had that clutched tightly in your fist. I couldn’t get it away from you until you fell asleep and your hand loosened,” Mary explained.

Pearl sat quietly, as though she was absorbing the information. “Do you think I’m human?”

Mary shook her head slowly. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice a whisper. “I’ve never known and, God forgive me, I’ve never wanted to know.”

“It was safer that way,” Finneas explained.

“The truth is, we didn’t know and we didn’t care if you weren’t. We just knew that we were happy to have you, our darling little girl, and we weren’t going to let any harm come to you. Finneas was meant to find you, I have always believed that. We were meant to protect you, and I will believe that until my dying day.”

“There’s a young man and another girl, they look like me,” Pearl confided.

“I saw the girl, Faye, earlier at dinner,” Mary told her. “I noticed the resemblance and I confess I wondered if she was somehow related to you.”

“What about this man?” Finneas asked.

“I found him, a couple days ago, sitting by the sea. He claimed to know me, that I had been kidnapped as a child and he had been searching for me ever since.”

“Not the man they caught who’s been killing women?” Finneas asked, horrified.

Pearl nodded. “I haven’t known what to think. I
do
know that what he said to me had the ring of truth to it.”

Mary exchanged a glance with Finneas. It could be true, but the thought frightened her. What if their Pearl left? Worse, what if more people came looking for her and whoever kidnapped her was among them? “Have you heard where they’re keeping him?” she asked.

Pearl shook her head, and Mary sighed. “Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Mary felt as though she’d blinked and three days had passed. She and Martha had become great friends, and had taken over all the preparations for the wedding. She spent a whole day discussing the wedding banquet with the chef who was a delightful man. He even gave Mary some cooking tips that she planned on using at home.

Martha had made Pearl’s wedding gown and it was beautiful, made of pale blue silk. Mary cried when Pearl tried it on for size.

Finneas spent his time scowling around and looking generally uncomfortable. If only Pearl were happier, Mary would have found the whole adventure wonderful. She hadn’t been able to get the thought out of her head that Pearl might have been kidnapped as a child. That, coupled with the fact that Faye could very well be connected to Pearl’s past, added to her unrest.