Page 72 of Burying Venus

‘No,’ Dermot said. Now he was beholden to no one, lies weren’t necessary. ‘I am going away to the mainland.’

‘By yourself?’ Béchard asked slyly, making his way to the door. He smiled as their eyes met. ‘The rumours are true. By God, my two kitchen boys at it with their masters. I’d say it doesn’t happen in France, but I’d be lying.’

‘Béchard!’ Dermot called, just as the man stepped out of their refuge. ‘Thank you again. And safe travels back to France.’

‘It’s Jean now, Dermot. Jean Béchard. Best wishes to you and Lord Aubrey as well.’ With that, he shouted, ‘Lord Robert’s in here, men! He’s unconscious.’

Cheers rang out like an unholy choir as men raced upstairs. The Colonel rushed in, shaking Béchard’s hand as the man waved farewell.

‘By God! Dermot Hatfield, you’ve done it! Felled Robert, just as you killed his brother! What a magnificent tale, a scullion victorious over his masters. I will relay every detail to parliament and the man himself.’ The Colonel forced their hands together in victory.

Not waiting on his reply, the Colonel urged the men to haul Robert up, limp between them like a marionette. His body was motionless as they dragged him away.

Dermot watched entranced as Robert was mastered and taken downstairs to the sound of merrymaking. He heard men hawking up their spittle noisily, exultingly, and realised they must’ve lined up to spit on him.

Dermot startled as the Colonel patted his back. He was a free man. He did not know what to say, his days never having been his own.

‘You’ll come back with us to the mainland, won’t you? I see a long career ahead of you. Who knows, one day you may come to outrank me. In this new world, a man can rise to any position and no one asks about his birth. You’ll see,’ the Colonel said.

Knowing the Colonel was deceived, Dermot said, ‘Thank you for the offer, but I have someone waiting for me.’ Men such as he would never be permitted a place in politics or university. It would not be due to the law, perhaps, but a country built on inequality could not have circumstances, schooling, or connections in common, therefore they would live as they always had.

‘A lover? Well, life is short, go forth and multiply. We need more men, always will,’ the Colonel said. He shook Dermot’s hand with vigour and marvelled at the dark blood coating the carpet. ‘I’ll be going to the dungeon. We’ll keep Mr Robert Stanley there for a while, I expect. One brother dead and no sign of the other. I’ll need to wait for word on what to do.’

Nodding to one another, they parted. Dermot did not know how long he stood there, nebulous, thoughts so hazy he could not make sense of them. Home gone to the fire, prison to the sword, now all that was left of their island was wind and rain.

Chapter Sixteen

He left the castle to cheers and some cursing, having prevented the men from swimming Thorne in the harbour. The infamous witchfinder had been decried as a sorcerer, and, glimpsing yellow eyes from under thick lashes, Dermot saw it true. Thorne wasn’t a preacher’s son, instead he resembled a faerie, and most likely his mother had been an adulteress. Still, Dermot said nothing as Thorne and Weston stole away to some ship, the witchfinder coughing blood at the first gust of wind.

Hoping he’d find a cart to take him back to the village, Dermot came to the place where he’d spied mermaids. His first victim had been maimed there, and he was astounded to see life there again.

‘We are down here, Dermot,’ said Fand.

Dermot surged forward and found Fand with Aubrey, the mystical ancient standing beside a shy, retiring young man whose family had been captured or killed.

‘It would not do to have you walk all night for a village where you cannot live. Even if you were to go to the mainland, as you certainly could, I can’t imagine a life for you there,’ Fand said. ‘Thank you for dealing with Maldred. Faeries must seem treacherous, but we give as well as take when a promise has been kept. I invite you to our realm, where you can live in peace. Aubrey has made a modest request, that of a simple cottage in pleasant countryside. I can do this for you.’

‘My son is alive and bound to this land,’ Fand continued. ‘Woe will strike all who remain here, for it will prove to be a miserable place. Even the weather worsens, and so will everything, given time. It is his punishment. I do not wish it to be yours as well.I, too, will be leaving. My daughters live on the emerald isle, not too far away. There is nothing here for me but ghosts now.’ With one delicate shift of the hand, she ushered them into a rowing boat that might’ve belonged to any simple fisherman.

‘Is this what you want, Aubrey? To be away from the world with only me for company?’ He said this jokingly, tempted to laugh until Aubrey nodded.

‘I would like nothing more,’ Aubrey said, smiling as he moved closer. Over the course of the voyage, he pressed their fingers together until, at last, they sat with their hands clasped.

Fand smiled knowingly through her hair until the strands parted, locks flowing with the wind so her face was revealed. Smile lines drifted from her nose to her mouth; a sign of happier days. She remained in the vessel as they reached shore, nodding as Dermot and Aubrey disembarked.

‘This is where I leave you. Messages can be carried by bird, should we need them,’ Fand said, smiling to them in turn. ‘You will find everything you need here. As well as happiness, I hope.’ She turned sombre as she looked to the sea. ‘Love is the most wondrous thing on earth.’

‘Thank you, Fand,’ Dermot said. His feet shifted anxiously on the sand, observing the cottage nearby. When he turned back, Fand was already rowing away. As if she felt the weight of his look, she raised her hand in a wave before sailing out of sight.

‘Aubrey,’ Dermot said. ‘I can’t think of what to say.’

Aubrey smiled at him so that Dermot simply stared, taking in the young lord who’d once languished at that window. Now they stood as equals.

‘I love you,’ Dermot confessed, so weary that the words tumbled out of him. Astonished and ashamed, already having blighted their life, Dermot went on, ‘I know that my feelings are wrong, and you would be right to reject me. A mere scullion to say nothing else, but…’

‘No,’ Aubrey said, making Dermot’s insides coil in one great twist. He closed the distance between them. ‘I love you too.’

Dermot couldn’t guess who initiated it. Before mind caught body, they were in each other’s arms. Now he held Aubrey, he would cherish him always, at leisure to love at last.

Epilogue

The greatest gift man could be given was freedom. They were separated from the world but always woke ready for another day in the field, to cook some new dish, or simply to read alongside one another.

Fand’s messages came regularly as the years passed. She wrote happily after settling with her daughters, telling Dermot news of the world. Parliament fell after the great man died, leaving the country on the precipice until a king was reinstated. Robert, having endured some of the isolation he once inflicted on Aubrey, married the daughter of a French duke. With the king’s approval, he again took control of the island. Nothing was said of his rule after his recovery, which was a mercy to them. The witchfinders stopped their trade and fell into obscurity. Finally, the news he’d asked for came, and it was revealed Amy and Noelle had safely escaped to the mainland. With the help of some stolen jewels, the two of them now ran a successful bakery.

Dermot and Aubrey sat together that day, the sun above them as they kissed.

He had fought with himself all his life, doing nothing but harm until the island fell with his weight. Now he’d done away with his old, bruised self and revived them both. It was enough to come out and see the sun, feel Aubrey’s hands in his, and to live.