Page 34 of Echoes of the Sea (Storm Tide #2)

Standing in the drawing room, watching the storm while holding Amelia in his arms, Kip had had to fully admit to himself that he was in way over his head.

He had no actual identity in this time, no occupation, no income, no home, no family, no friends. He was growing exceptionally attached to a lady who should she allow herself to feel the same for him, would simply be adding to the troubles she already had.

Kip needed some answers, and he needed some idea of how to move forward before he ruined more lives than just his.

After seeing to their morning’s work the next day, he convinced Smudge to go with him out to the lighthouse.

Ivers hadn’t shown himself to be the biggest fan of Kip, but he was knowledgeable about precisely the things Kip needed to know.

It was he and his wife, after all, who had first indicated that there was a unique and significant aspect of Kip’s situation that he needed to sort out.

He now felt certain that what they had realized before anyone else was that he had traveled on the Tides of Time and didn’t know it.

Between Smudge, who understood the legends, and the Iverses, who clearly did as well, Kip might gain some idea of how not to sink entirely.

They spotted Ivers stepping out of the lighthouse, which saved them the trouble of trying to decide whether his house or his lighthouse was the best place to try first. Smudge called out to him using his given name, which told Kip they were already friends. That would help.

“Has him sorted it, then?” Ivers asked Smudge the moment they were within speaking distance.

Smudge laughed. “Thick as molasses not to have done so sooner.”

The tiniest sparkle of amusement entered Ivers’s expression, though nothing in it changed noticeably. “And how’s him bearing up under the weight of it?”

“Better than expected. Better than the last few.”

“Few?” Kip had heard about only Smudge’s grandmother.

“As I told you, my granny cried for weeks. Captain Travers, who came this way not long after her did, was one of the tide travelers. Stayed here to the house, from what I remember being told.”

Someone else who had been brought here through time. “Anyone else between them and me?”

“Probably,” Ivers said. “Somewho might’ve washed up closer to Loftstone. Or might not have been found in time and drowned in waters hundreds of years out of their time.”

That was not a very comforting thought.

“My grandfather says the tides swirl in other places, too, not just on this shore of England. There’s whispers of a spot in Ireland, an inlet like this with an island placed just right.

Makes the storms spin and the lightning turn green.

I heard somewho say them thought it might happen off the coast of Spain as well. ”

A globe dotted with these pockets of water that twisted time into clumps and whirlpools. He would say that misery loved company, but knowing other people had gone through what he was going through wasn’t proving very comforting.

He’d not heard anyone use the terms “time travel” and “time traveler,” so he assumed that meant they were too modern. “Smudge here has warned me that I need to be careful what I say and what I tell people about my origins.”

Both men nodded in perfect, emphatic unison.

“Travelers over the tides are brought to a place them weren’t ever meant to be,” Smudge said. “That begins a ripple.”

“Are they always brought backward?” Kip asked.

Again, both men shook their heads at the same time.

“Then it’s the ones pulled into the past that have to take care. A person going from the past into the future wouldn’t have that problem.”

“I suppose not,” Ivers said in his usual gruff tones.

“Lucky me,” Kip muttered.

They walked along the edge of the shore.

It wasn’t as miserable a walk as he’d taken that first day.

He was better dressed for it now, and the shoes he’d found in the trunk of clothing fit well enough and were surprisingly more comfortable than they looked.

Nothing else about the clothes he had could be described that way.

“If I’m not meant to be in this time and there are things I might say or do or reveal that could change time, doesn’t it stand to reason that anything I say or do will change things? I can’t just hide in a cave and hope not to starve to death.”

“There aren’t any caves on Guilford Island,” Ivers said very matter--of-factly.

Kip opened his mouth to explain that he was being metaphorical but stopped at the well-hidden laughter in Ivers’s eyes. He was proving more enjoyable company than Kip would have guessed.

“My granny was careful not to tell we about things that hadn’t been invented yet or important events that were coming,” Smudge said. “Her said it was likely important that her not ever be a person of importance. Keeping to her quiet corner, living a quiet life was, to she, the safest approach.”

“But that quiet life involved raising a family. She was never meant to be here, but she came here by accident and, as a result, had children who had children who, I’m assuming, will have children.

” Kip shook his head. “If she was never meant to be in the time she found herself, then couldn’t it be argued that all her offspring also weren’t meant to exist? Including you?”

Far from bothered, Smudge shrugged. “If I had all the answers, I’d be a scholar somewhere, impressing people.”

“I don’t know who I am in this time and place,” Kip said. “Clas-ses are divided and determined so differently in the future. Div-isions still exist but not in the same way.”

“All of we assumed you were Quality when you first arrived,” Ivers said. “That’s what you feel like to the people of here and now.”

“But isn’t an important part of standing in Society the connections a person has?” That had come up in The Beau all the time. “I have no connections, at least none that will exist for another two centuries.”

Man, he missed Malcolm. He was Kip’s best friend, like a brother to him. He’d become family when Kip had had none. And Kip was never going to see him again. Never. The weight of that would never fully lift off his heart. It couldn’t.

“I suspect Miss Archibald will let you stay here until you’ve sorted at least some of these questions,” Smudge said.

He then turned more toward Ivers. “Which brings us to another difficulty. Her has a heap of work to do here, more than can be managed by the hands her currently has doing it. You and your missus need to keep manning the lighthouse, and heaven knows that takes up all a person’s day. ”

Ivers nodded his acknowledgment.

“Mick and I need to go back into the village, see if us can convince a few to come out and lend a hand. Them’s nervous about the water, and I can’t blame they.

But it’s calm just now. The storm last night didn’t keep the sea road covered, and it’s sitting above the waves.

It’s the best time to bring folks out, if them’ll come. ”

“Them used to come quite often,” Ivers said.

“When there was last a family in residence, as long as the water was calm and the road sat high, them’d come out and work or visit.

And there were quite a few employed at the house from the village back then.

” An edge entered Ivers’s voice. There was no mistaking that whatever he was about to say was both important and coming from a place of frustration.

“When the house was lived in, it employed a great many people. It was a boon to the village and important to their ability to survive. And when the house was lived in, the family would have visitors who would go to the shops in the village, and the pub, and would hire on temporary help from the village. The house was a source of income for the people of Guilford Village but also a source of pride. That it’s been left to rot very much feels to the locals like them have been left to rot as well. ”

An uncharacteristic heaviness had entered Smudge’s face as Mr. Ivers had gone through the recounting.

“The villagers cite the water as their reason for not coming across the sea road,” Ivers continued.

“But it’s not just that. Miss is leaving when her six months are over.

Her’ll leave, the house’ll be empty, and the village will once more be left to rot.

You’ll not get they to come help if there’s no hope that it will make a difference. ”

Kip could tell Smudge knew that Ivers’s evaluation was accurate. It was the first Kip had heard of any reason beyond the fear of the water. Nothing could be done to change the position of the ocean, nor its legendary abilities. But this issue was potentially changeable.

“She will be leaving Guilford House either way,” Kip said. “The house is her uncle’s, not hers. She doesn’t have the choice to stay or leave.”

“I didn’t say it was fair,” Ivers answered, “only that it is reality.”

“Miss’s uncle isn’t likely to make his home here,” Smudge said. “Us wouldn’t overly like he doing so anyway.”

It felt too hopeless for Kip’s peace of mind. He was already dealing with something he couldn’t fix, didn’t ask for, and couldn’t escape. “I’m going to talk with Miss Archibald,” he said. “If she knows this is part of the difficulty, she can set her mind to it more fully.”

“You seem to have a great deal of faith in her cleverness,” Mr. Ivers said.

“She’s shown herself to be inarguably clever, resourceful, and determined. I’d be foolish indeed not to make certain her mind is spinning on this question rather than just ours.”

And while he figured attitudes toward women in this era weren’t always what they ought to be, neither man looked shocked or appeared ready to argue the matter.

It made him feel better about being stuck here himself.

He had to find a way to fit in, but if that required him to be a misogynist, he was never going to manage it.

Apparently, there was room in 1803 for men who weren’t total jerks.

Smudge stayed back with Ivers, and Kip suspected they were going to talk about him.

He’d rather not hear what they had to say.

Losing his entire life was humbling him to the point that he wasn’t certain he’d ever feel sure of himself in any context again.

Hearing less-than-flattering assessments of him would only add to that uncertainty.

But he felt sure of Amelia. She was a source of unexpected and welcome stability in a world that felt as unsteady as the sea during a storm. He needed a dose of that stability in that moment.

Though the most likely place to find her at this time of day was her book room, something pulled his feet to the iron gate in the wall of her garden.

And he found her there. Standing at the open gate, he watched her as she carefully tended a row of flowers.

He knew this was her happy place. He knew it was where she felt safe and peaceful and at home on this island surrounded by the ceaseless echoes of the sea.

When she eventually found a home of her own, he hoped it would have a garden she could make her own.

For that to happen, they had to sort out the difficulty with Guilford and the village and her uncle.

Though Kip didn’t know what he would do with himself in the long-term, he was determined to do all he could to secure her the future she deserved.