Page 108 of Under Gorse and Stone
He’s standing in the low-walled part of the ruins, his head bent as he peers at something on the ground. I step over the rubble and stand next to him in a grassy space. “What’s this place?” I ask.
“A chapel,” he says absentmindedly. His hands are skimming the ground, never touching but seeming to search for something. “It was a delicate place of light and beauty with wooden rafters that seemed to reach the sky. Ah, here,” he says, a note of fierce triumph in his voice. “Step back, my heart.”
I do as I’m told, watching as he crouches down on the grass. His hand hovers, dipping up and down as if something is pulling him. It’s like watching a dowsing rod in operation. My mouth drops open as the ground suddenly rumbles. Then I step back in shock as it opens, and a small hand appears. It’s glitters coldly in the moonlight as if it has diamonds under the skin. The hand is offering something to Sig, which he takes from it, his big hands careful.
“Thank you,” he says. “My eternal thanks for watching over it, Mistress.”
The hand vanishes, and I step closer.
“What wasthat?” I breathe.
“A fairy. They are few and far between now, chased away by humans’ development of the land, but their communities still flourish in what were pagan sacred spaces such as this one.”
“What did it give you?”
He looks up at me from where he’s still kneeling and offers a small box. It gleams in the light with a cold beauty, and I realise it’s made of pearl. His hand is shaking slightly, and I cup it, squeezing it before taking the box from him.
I’d expected the box to be cold, but it’s warm against my fingers. I look down at Sig. “Can I open it?”
His lip twists in a funny crooked smile. “None other than you can open this box.”
“Why?”
He doesn’t reply but just gestures at the object. There’s a small gold clasp on it, and I touch it, tracing the carvings on the gold. The box judders in my hand as if it’s alive, and I fumble it, almost dropping it in shock. It opens, and I gasp. Inside on a bed of velvet lies a ring, but it’s not like any ring I’ve ever seen. It seems to be made of light, and it shines with an unearthly glow.
“What is this?”
Sig takes my other hand. His fingers warm my cold ones. “Cary Sutton, I love you. You are the love of my very long life. You took centuries to arrive, but I never stopped hoping, and the reality of you far surpasses my dreams. You are my sweetheart, my partner, my best friend. You make my heart warm and happy whenever I am near you.”
“Sig,” I say, my throat choked with tears. He’s so earnest and beautiful kneeling at my feet.
“I plighted my troth to you in the old ways, but I also want to embrace the ways of your people as you have done with such open-minded generosity with mine. Cary, will you marry me?”
“Oh my god.”
His lips quirk. “It is rare to see you so speechless,elsklingen min.I would save this method and do it again, but I believe this is a once-in-a-lifetime scenario.”
“Yes,” I interrupt. “Yes, I will marry you. OfcourseI will.” He relaxes a little, and I stare at him. “Did you think I wouldn’t?” I ask incredulously.
“It is never good to be completely certain about anything. I have done a great deal of reading and research because I wished to make this a memorable experience.”
“It doesn’t get much more memorable than a night trip to Tintagel with a ring guarded by a fairy. We’re just missing the spriggan.”
He snorts, rises to his feet, and flings his arms around me. “So, you will marry me?”
I grin up at him. “I would marry you every day for the rest of my life.”
“You will have to teach me the way your kind does it, but I am always eager to learn from you. I did some reading, and I have already asked your father for your hand.”
“Really? There was no need. People don’t really do that anymore.” I cock my head. “What was his reaction?”
He chuckles. “Torn between laughter and happiness.”
He touches the ring, and the pale light instantly fades out, leaving a gold ring that shines with a warm glow. “Dragon gold,” he says, touching it gently. “Taken from my hoard back in the days when England was dark and green.” Runes inside the ring blaze suddenly and then spark out. “My oath to you. My vows.” He raises his head, looking into my eyes. His own are golden and bright in the moonlight. “Merlin made this ring, and he gave itto me on this very spot. I was despairing at the time. I thought I would be alone forever, and the weight of the loneliness was so heavy.” I hug him, and he rests his head on mine with a happy-sounding sigh. “He told me that there was one who waited for me through time. He would complete me in ways I could not know and give me peace and joy. He left the ring with the fairies on the instruction to give it to me when I asked. He knew of you, and that is why only you could open the box.”
The stars shine down as he slides the ring onto my finger, and the air shimmers with his magic, enfolding us in a sparkly hug that sends ripples of heat over my skin.
“I love you,” I say into his neck, where he smells most like him. “I’m so glad it was me who was your mate. I’m sad you had to wait, but I’msothankful you did.” The ring feels warm on my finger. It feels like him—this great-hearted, kind and funny man who makes me feel safe and more alive than I ever have been.
He pushes my curls back, kisses my temple, and murmurs into the tender skin there, “I lay slumbering under the gorse and stone for so many years, and then suddenly one day there you were. On my beach—cross and confused but still very sassy.”
I smile. “It’s a little bit of magic and a whole lot of destiny.”