Within The Mists
©2008 Nia Little

Nia's books are not currently available but hope to be re-released by a new publisher in the near future. In the meantime, enjoy an excerpt!


~Four Cup Review by Coffee Time Romance~
"Within the Mist is a delightful read... Sioned and Edward are refreshing and both are searching for something to give them meaning in life. Ms. Little allows their love to be different. She pens an incredible ending that was quite an eye-opener."


EXCERPT

[Lieutenant Edward Putney of his Majesty’s Navy has survived the Battle of Cape St. Vincent but has been washed overboard during a dreadful storm just off the coast of Britain. He’s been rescued by a selchie, a woman who becomes a seal in the sea…]

Voices slowly drifted to his ear through white fog; melodious voices, woodwinds in harmony, flute and clarinet. Quite pleasant.

“Is it alive?”

“I think so.”

“It looks rather pasty, doesn’t it then?”

“Well, that’s no surprise, seeing as it nearly drowned—and almost took me with it. I had to knock it ’cross the head, it fought me so. It was wrapped in so much clothing—why do they wear all that, Auntie? Did naught but absorb water and weigh it down.”

“Who knows why they do what they do? Still, once it’s cleaned up it might be almost handsome. An interesting shape to the nose, bit of a kink to the right—did you inspect the rest of it yet? No? Pity. That will be interesting. You missed some seaweed in the hair there.”

Edward felt a light touch near his temple, gentle and tender. He realized he was naked, lying on softness and wrapped in warmth.

Someone pulled me from the sea…

He drifted toward darkness once again.

***

Sioned stirred the pot and tasted the broth. A hearty fish stew should help revive the human when it woke again. Once it had stopped vomiting seawater and kelp, it had drifted in and out of sleep for three days.

She wiped her hands on her apron. Her cottage had but a few rooms—the main sitting room, bedroom, and a small pantry. The human was in the bedroom of course; she stepped to the opening to peer in.

Soft morning light filtered by the trees beyond the window barely lit the room. The human was sitting up, blankets pulled up to its chest. Long legs stretched nearly to the foot of the bed. Eyes the color of grass met hers and her breath stopped.

Could this be the one I saw before?

“Miss? Bring me a drink.”

She stared. Just like that? ‘Bring me a drink?’ Her hands went to her hips. “What, you think to order me about like a barmaid?”

“I meant no offense.” He inclined his head slightly. “Forgive my manner; I’m used to issuing orders and having them obeyed. Obviously I am in your debt. But I’m damnably thirsty. So a bit of water, please?” He coughed and raised his eyebrows.

“Apology accepted.” Sioned went to the sideboard in the pantry and poured water into a simple wooden tumbler. She brought the ewer with her when she returned to the bedroom.

He took the cup with a nod and drank steadily. “Thank you,” he said at last. “Where am I?”

“You’re in my cottage by the sea.” She perched on the edge of the bed and refilled the tumbler. “Drink as much as you can. You need to replace what you’ve lost.”

He sipped more slowly, green eyes watching her now.

His eyes were definitely his best feature. He wasn’t exactly handsome with that crooked nose and thin scar running along his right cheek to his ear, not in the way Armanitas was pretty. But those verdant eyes shone bright with intelligence, waves of sandy brown hair framed his face with softness, and there was no cruelty pulling at his mouth. The beginnings of a promising beard, an intriguing mixture of blonde and ginger, defined a strong jaw. He could be called… attractive.

His question interrupted her inspection. “Is this Cornwall?”

“No. We’re to the west of there—for now. This is an island.” She watched as he frowned, noting how his forehead furrowed between his brows and his lower lip pouted like a tot about to pitch a tantrum. Hmm, signs of a formidable temper.

“Terribly off course, then,” he muttered. “Your accent—are you Cornish or Welsh?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I come from the western shore of Wales.”

“At least you speak English. That’s worth something, I suppose.”

What a sanctimonious prick! “I see. Well, I’ll arrange to throw you back into the sea and you can wait for a proper Englishman to rescue you.”

He blinked. “No, no, I didn’t mean…” The furrows across his forehead deepened. “What about my ship?”

“I don’t know,” she replied.

“Did you see it? Was it wrecked? Have pieces washed up? How did you find me? Were there others?”

“No. I don’t think so. Haven’t seen anything but ordinary driftwood. You fell on my head, and no.” She took the tumbler from him. “There. I answered your questions. Answer one of mine: what are you called?”

“I’m Edward. Edward Putney. Lieutenant Edward Putney, His Majesty’s Royal Navy.”

“That’s quite a long name. Edward Edward Putney Lieutenant Edward—”

“No, no! Just—” He closed his eyes for a long breath. “Edward. Call me ‘Edward.’” He shifted his position beneath the blanket. “Might I ask about my clothes?”

“You might.” Sioned gestured to the front room. “I cleaned what I could—by the Goddess, I’ve never seen so many buttons. The great cape you had—”

“My nor’easter—um, overcoat.”

“Whatever you call it nearly dragged you to the bottom of the sea. It had to go.”

He nodded. “Understood. But I need—”

“There’s a chamber pot ’neath the bed.”

“No, well… yes.”

“Here, you’ll need help.” Sioned stood and lifted the closest edge of the blanket.

“No!” He clutched it to his chin. “I’ve managed quite well since I was three, thank you! But I would ask for privacy. You have no doors between the rooms?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why would I waste wood on doors between rooms in my own home?”

“I see,” he said. “Well, if you’ll go outside for a few minutes, I’m quite certain I’ll manage.”

“Oh, you’ve been shipwrecked before, I suppose? Fine, go ahead and try to stand without falling over. You expect me to go out and listen for the thud—then I’m to clean up the mess you make, is that it?” She crossed her arms. “I don’t mind helping whilst you’re weak, but there’s no need to create extra work for me through your own stubborn pride.”

He pressed his lips into a line but refused to relinquish his grip on the blanket.

Sioned turned her back. “Right then,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the door. “Don’t say I didn’t warn—”

Smug satisfaction warred with concern when she heard him hit the floor, cussing like—well, like a sailor. She paused, but didn’t turn around.

“Keep going,” he said. Anger and frustration growled in his voice. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not, but you’ll figure that out soon enough,” Sioned replied and stepped into the misty morning. “Cleaning rags are in the basket there at the end of the bed. Wipe up after yourself.” She pulled the door nearly closed before she called to him again. “Oh and by the way, since you forgot to ask, my name is Sioned—Edward.”

She shut the door with a firm click and walked around the corner to her herb garden.

“Oooh, a stubborn one, isn’t it then?” Mab sat on one of the boulders near the gate. Dewdrops sparkled from her dainty pointed ears like diamond bobs.

“And how long were you listening at the window?” Sioned cocked her head, hands on her hips. “Bad habit, eavesdropping.”

“Yes, yes, I know. It’ll be the death of me someday,” Mab replied, “but it’s ever so entertaining.” She smiled and ran a delicate hand through her silvery hair. “Your human intrigues me, Sioned. I can’t tell if it’s nice or nasty yet. Which do you think?”

Sioned plucked a few sprigs of mint before speaking. “I would like time with him alone to find out for myself first, Auntie.”

Mab laughed, her faerie wings iridescent as they fluttered to keep her balance. “Still don’t like to share your playthings! So it shall be, Sioned.” She lifted into the air, smiling. “But let me know if you decide to throw it back!”

Sioned rolled her eyes. “It’s a ‘he,’ Auntie. And I’m sure you heard that his name is Edward.”

“Yes, yes, whatever you say, dear.” Mab grinned and flew off.

Sioned returned to her house. “I’m here,” she announced as she entered the cottage and walked to the bedroom.

Edward sat on the edge of the bed, breeches covering his legs, his hands braced on his thighs, his eyes closed.

Serves you right, she thought, but said nothing.

Edward opened his eyes to look at her. “The dizziness is most distressing. I’m not accustomed to weakness.”

“You almost drowned and have been abed for three days. Would you expect to be hearty and hale?” She reached for the pitcher of water again. “Here. Drink.”

“I apologize,” he said when he finished. He sat back and pulled the blanket up again, weary. “To be out of uniform, in such a state of undress, is not proper behavior befitting an officer. I would be most embarrassed were you a society lady.”

Sioned raised one eyebrow. “Well then now, aren’t you fortunate?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did.” She set the tumbler on the small chest of drawers near the bed. “I’ll bring you a cup of stew. You need to eat. Perhaps as you recover your strength you’ll recover your manners.”

He rubbed his forehead and sighed. “I daresay you’re right. I am sorry if I’ve offended you, Miss.”

“What a snobbish bastard you are,” Sioned whispered after he’d eaten and fallen back asleep.

Actually, he’s rather handsome in a rough sort of way—with his mouth shut. Help me Goddess, she thought. I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.