20: There's Intimacy ... And Then There's Intimacy

Chapter 20 of "A Grail for Eidothea"

Previous Chapter | All Chapters | All Môrdreigiau Chronicles | Next Chapter

Eidothea updates Llyr on all that has happened, but leaves out her engagement news. She senses that something is troubling him, but he will not confess it. The first banns are announced on Easter Sunday and they travel, arriving in Bath to learn that Napoleon has surrendered.

This is my first opportunity to write about the events of the 13th. We were at sea, in the Bristol Channel. I waited until Aunt Norah slept before donning my cloak and gathering hers. I stepped out of the cabin and ascended to the main deck.

A sailor paused before me. “Be careful, miss, the deck’s slippery.” I assured him of my care and he moved on.

I stood at the railing. The ship’s golden lights reflected off the sea in an ever moving coruscation. Darkness cloaked all else.

I leaned over. How would Llyr hear me? I called his name, casting glances to make certain no one else heard me.

I called again and thought his name at him, not knowing if that would work while in human form. Could he hear me? Would he come?

A fresh turbulence swirled alongside the ship, separate from its wake. Did I imagine a flash of scales? The water resumed its shape, breaking and falling away from the hull. Had I imagined it?

The sea erupted, a column of water encasing a figure soared up and above me. A heavy spray of sea water hit me and I heard a thud on the deck behind me.

I turned and saw a naked Llyr rise from a crouch. At once I closed my eyes and held out my aunt’s cloak.

He took it. “You can look now,” Llyr murmured a few heartbeats later.

I opened my eyes. Llyr stood before me, his expression amused. Bare calves and feet stuck out of the bottom of the too-short cloak. I stifled a smile.

“That was quite the impressive leap.”

Llyr grinned. “You saw that? It takes some practice. I will show you how some day.”

“I would like that.” I stepped closer, keeping my gaze on his face. Any lower — I did not dare glimpse more of him than I already had. “You came. I did not know if you would be close enough to hear me.”

“I have been shadowing this ship since it left Carmarthen,” Llyr admitted.

“I fell asleep last night before my aunt,” I said by way of apology. “How did you know I was out on the deck?”

Llyr stepped closer, leaving little space between us. “I was near enough to hear you call out. Is all well? You did not suffer during your land journey?” I assured him I had not. His hand brushed my cheek. “You are a miracle, Eidothea.”

I grimaced. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his cloak gape. “Unique, perhaps, but do not set me on any pedestal, Llyr.”

“We’ve been friends too long for that.” He chucked my chin.

I tugged the edges of his cloak together. “I am glad you came. I do not know when I will be returning. A week? Longer if the Greal is not in Bath as we hope. You cannot linger in Môr Hafren that entire time.”

“Yes, I thought about that after our last conversation. I will ask a few friends to share the watch with me. When you call for me, they will hear you and send for me if I am not already here.”

“If—when we find the Greal, I will head straight for Caer Morgana, except I am not sure I can find the way myself.”

“You won’t have to. I will be here. You can’t travel the seas alone with such a prize. Not when there are other dreigiau môr who will take it from you.”

I glanced aft and saw a sailor approach from an upper deck. “You better go,” I whispered.

“May you find the Greal soon.” Llyr bowed, deep from the waist. He unclasped the cloak at his neck. “Here—“

I spun around and held out a hand for the cloak. He laughed. I felt the weight of the cloak drape over my arm and heard a loud splash.

“Everything all right, miss?” The sailor looked over the railing. “Did you drop something overboard?”

I shook my head. “I think it was a fish, but it was gone too soon.”

15th April, 1814

Explored the city of Bath with Jasper and one of Uncle’s maids as chaperone. Both Aunt Norah and Father declared they needed a day to rest. Bath’s citizens are all smiling, as are we, glad the war is over. We headed downhill to Bath Abbey and then to the Baths and the Pump Room. On a whim, we tried the Baths ourselves.

Jasper purchased tickets to the Victory illuminations at Sydney Gardens. He and Father have gone to frequent the local clubs and coffee houses. Aunt is already abed.

We circumnavigated the Abbey, my arm tucked into Jasper’s. My uncle’s maid lagged two steps behind. I wore Mother’s ring over my glove. The pearl seems brighter, but it has been so since we arrived at Bath. Neither my father nor Jasper can see this change, which proves this is why only a draig môr can use the ring. The Greal is somewhere in this City, I am sure of it.

We strolled into the Pump Room, and put our names down in the register of newly arrived persons. This elegant space is where one is meant to be seen, judging from the slow promenade around the hall. I would much rather be more circumspect in our search.

I said as much to Jasper.

He smiled. “Shall I show you how easy it is?” He disappeared into the crowd, returning with a glass of the spring’s water.

I accepted the cup and took a sip, returning the glass with a grimace. I lifted the ring to mouth and licked it. The surreptitious, delicate action caught him in mid-swallow and he choked, turning away quickly, covering his mouth.

“It tastes the same,” I whispered, joy bubbling within. “Let us promenade and see if there is any change to the ring’s glow.”

Jasper glanced at my uncle’s maid who had gone to dispose of the glass. “Good idea,” he murmured.

We slowly circled the room. In the bright light of morning, I found it difficult to tell if the Grealseeker ring glowed or faded as we moved about the room. Jasper remained silent, allowing me to concentrate. The ring seemed brightest along the windows overlooking the Roman Baths themselves.

I relayed this to Jasper. He leaned against me, squeezing my arm. “The only way to be sure is to bathe. Shall I see if there is any availability?”

We returned to the maid and he left to arrange our baths. I missed his presence by my side. My gaze followed him as he crossed the room.

“I’ve never seen a couple so in love!” My uncle’s maid, Susan, sighed, revealing a romantic streak. “He could never take his eyes off you for a minute this morning. And now I see the way you look at him!” She broke into giggles.

“This best not be flattery or cajoling.” I tried to sound stern but I am certain I failed. “He was always looking at me?”

“Oh, he glanced about here and there.” Susan strove to be honest. “To make sure your way was clear. He even put out an arm or two when you seem distracted enough to bump into someone. Truly, Miss Pendyr, if you saw how he looked at you, instead of always looking down at your hands…”

I thanked her for her care. His protective demeanour had not gone unnoticed.

“We should procure some lunch,” Jasper announced on his return. “there is space for us this afternoon. There are clothes you can change into, Miss Pendyr, so no need to return to your uncle’s first.”

“Sir, if I may be excused from bathing.” Susan looked very worried. “M’ family’s Methodist, sir, and would not approve of me being in such pagan waters.”

It suited me very well. “Will you keep watch from where we enter? I would not want to be left unchaperoned with my fiancè.” I fluttered my eyes at Jasper, who choked back a laugh.

“Oh indeed, Miss!” Susan’s eyes danced with merriment. “I could go and fetch a man from the house while you are dining. There’s one who comes to the Baths with our Master on the regular.”

Satisfied, we made our way to a nearby establishment that promised tea and light savouries. Jasper and I sat elbow to elbow in the bow window, two other tables sharing the small space. The press of people about us meant our conversation could not be private. We remarked upon the beauty of the city, the sharp angles of the Abbey and the unusual taste of the spring waters.

Jasper lowered his voice. “My dear, was there something in your eye earlier? I did not think you so coquettish.”

I winced. “Susan is certain we are in love. I thought it would not hurt to reinforce the idea.”

Jasper sipped his tea, nodding. “Give me a warning next time. I have been girding myself so I do not succumb to your wiles.”

I smiled. “From what Susan said, it is too late for you.” I bit my lip. “I did not mean … I was not fishing for compliments, I assure you.”

He finished his bite of watercress sandwich before answering. “Were you not?” He touched the napkin to his lips, his expression severe. “We are already engaged to be wed, Miss Pendyr. What greater compliment to your noble self could there be?”

I stared and he softened his stony expression with a soft smile. He sipped and then set down his cup. “We do seem to be doing things in the wrong order: engagement first, then flirtation.”

I gulped my tea. “Not required, I assure you!”

Jasper reached for a sweet bun. “I am beginning to recognise when you are lying, Miss Pendyr. Your protestations of ‘I assure you!’ are too much.”

“I assu—“ I pressed my lips together.

He bit into the bun, licking the sweetness from his lips.

Such an act should not have me mesmerized, should not have stirred my sensibilities. I lifted my tea cup and it tinkled against its saucer. I took a steadying sip and set it back down without a sound—well, none that could be heard above the chattering customers.

“You know it is honour enough to accompany you—“ Jasper’s voice dropped to a whisper. “— in this quest.”

I glanced about, but nobody seemed to have overheard, all deep in their own conversations. I chose a small piece of marzipan and popped it into my mouth. I did not expect such sweet deliciousness and closed my eyes with the pleasure of consuming it.

“Lord, Eidothea…” breathed Jasper. I opened my eyes, catching Jasper’s expression, his lower lip caught as his gaze feasted upon me.

I blinked at him, the chewy confection rendering me speechless.

He leaned over, tracing my cheek and jaw with a fingertip. “Would that rapturous look were for me,” he murmured, his head close to mine.

Our gazes met and held. For a moment, I forget to chew. I felt wonder rise in me, wonder and longing. My suddenly pounding heart told me Jasper felt the same way about me as I did about the marzipan.

Did you know you can subscribe for free and have these instalments delivered to your inbox? And thank you if you already subscribe! I appreciate you being here! Subscribe to The Môrdreigiau Chronicles:

Thoughts about today’s instalment? Comments? Share below or join the Chat!

Previous Chapter | All Chapters | All Môrdreigiau Chronicles | Next Chapter