The Little Selkie (retail) (19 page)

That suited Dylan fine. She spent her time seething over her “guardian,” and wondering how she could pin him down and pick him apart.

It was late in the evening before Callan and Dooley had a chance to speak about the day’s events, the bandits, and, in particular, the girls they fancied.

“Today reminded me why I’m a merchant, and not some tom-foolery hero,” Dooley said, plopping down in a cushy settee.

Callan waited to speak until a servant placed a tray of drinks on a sideboard and left, leaving the two men alone in Callan’s private study. “You’re a merchant because you have the head for it.”

“Yes, and the heart of a field mouse,” Dooley said, taking the goblet Callan handed him. “I couldn’t have moved if I wanted to. I was paralyzed with fear, and I don’t mind admitting it.”

“You would have moved if they threatened Cagney,” Callan said, taking care to enjoy his wine. It was an expensive import that Ringsted no longer had access to, thanks to the storms.

“Perhaps, yes. But they didn’t,” Dooley said, studying his goblet with a frown. “Your Dylan, though. That girl has the heart of a lion.
I
just about screamed in fright on her behalf when that bandit poked his sword at her face.”

“Yes,” Callan said, tracing the rim of his goblet with his thumb.

Dooley recognized the thoughtful pitch to Callan’s voice and twisted on the settee to better see his friend. “What is it?”

“Some of the bandits recognized her,” Callan said.

Dooley rolled his eyes and draped his frame back over the settee, propping his feet up on the cushions. “That doesn’t mean anything, Cal. In case you missed it: they knew her, and they were
terrified
of her.”

“Perhaps they were terrified of what Jarlath would do if he found out they hurt her,” Callan said, leaning against the sideboard. “I still can’t let myself trust her blindly, Dooley. There is too much she’s not telling.”

“She saved us, didn’t she? Or at least she gave us the edge we needed to shake them off. I stand by what I’ve always said: she’s not with Jarlath by choice.”

“Then we must be missing something. And we aren’t likely to find out what as she won’t tell me what sort of shadow game she’s involved in.” Callan took another sip of his wine.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Dylan isn’t your typical noble lady,” Dooley said, his voice wry. “She chased after a kelpie with nothing but rocks and a dagger and faced down bandits without any kind of weapon. Do you
really
think such a brash girl would willingly ask for help? Do you think Dylan—who listens to girls insult her as if they are discussing the market prices of barley and brushes them off like an empress, who didn’t care that she had two plain dresses to wear to a number of royal events, who has now saved the skins of one or more of the Ringsted royal children three times—that Dylan would waltz up to a man she’s known for less than a season and ask him to save her?”

Callan rubbed his chin. “When you say it like that, I feel like an idiot for even wondering.”

“If you want in on whatever trouble she’s a part of, you’ll have to be proactive and catch her in the act, laddy. Because that headstrong lady will never seek your aid. You should have thought twice before you started sighing over her like a sailor at sea thinking of his lady love.” Dooley raised his goblet in the air and finished off his drink.

“I’ve tried catching her. She’s gone before I even know she’s up to something,” Callan said.

“And then when you
do
find her, you drag her back to whatever awful party we’ve been forced to attend like she’s a misbehaving puppy. Stop being such a stick. It makes you seem suspicious and untrusting, which I have on good authority are considered large turn-offs,” Dooley advised.

“I
am
suspicious and untrusting.”

“Are you? Or are you just a pessimist?” Dooley asked.

“What do you mean?”

Dooley almost rolled off the settee in his eagerness to face his friend. “You’re not suspicious and untrusting of everyone. You just have a hard time swallowing that Miss Dylan is chained to Lord Jarlath. Is it because you’re afraid that the one lady you would allow past all your walls and secret prickliness will not return your affection?”

Callan rubbed his face. “You’re delving too deep for me to follow, again. Let’s concentrate on the problem.”

“Which is?”

“Can I trust Dylan or not?”

“I thought you asked her.”

“I did.”

“And what did she say?”

“That I could.”

“There you have it.”

“But what if she was lying?”

“By the sea and her beauty—fine. We’re going to try a fun exercise, Cal. Place your hand over your heart.”

Callan stared at his friend with an expression that said he wasn’t impressed.

“Do it.”

Callan did no such thing.

Dooley abandoned his goblet, popped up from the settee, stalked across the room, and placed Callan’s hand over his heart for him. “Now ask yourself, can I trust Dylan?”

Callan stared at his friend.

“If you don’t say it out loud, I’m going to tell your royal mother—”

“Can I trust Dylan?” Callan repeated, his voice short and emotionless.

“Now listen to your heart,” Dooley said, releasing Callan before walking back to his settee.

“I don’t hear anything,” Callan said.

“That’s because you
haven’t
a heart!” Dooley grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“I want to trust her. I believe I can trust her. But what if I’m wrong? The whole country will pay for the weakness of my heart,” Callan said.

“Cal. The girl saved you from drowning two years ago and saved you today from bandits. If she had dastardly designs, she would have let you drown in the shipwreck,” Dooley said.

“You’re right,” Callan said.

“Of course I’m right,” Dooley said.

“It’s close to what I was thinking as well, but I wanted to hear someone confirm it,” Callan said.

“You mean to say this whole time you had already decided you were going to trust Dylan, you just wanted to hear me say it too?” Dooley asked, peering across the room at his friend.

“More or less.”

“I should slap you for getting me so worked up, but instead I think I will preen in the knowledge that my opinion matters so much to you.” Dooley folded his arms behind his head to cushion his skull.

“What shall we discuss for the rest of the evening?” Callan asked, sipping his wine again.

“Whatever you wish.”

“In that case, I suggest your lack of development with Cagney.”

Dooley jutted out his lower lip in a pout. “Stop picking on me,” he muttered, turning to smash his face into the cushioned back support of the settee.

Callan laughed. “Personally? I think she’s softening.”

“She is not,” Dooley said, his voice muffled by the couch cushion.

“She wore the pearls you bought her.”

“And then bandits stole them.”

“That is hardly her fault.”

“No, it’s just a reflection of my luck with her,” Dooley said. He sighed before popping upright and facing Callan. “Do you know, I don’t think she takes it seriously.”

“That is a byproduct of smothering her with your love without acting solemn,” Callan said.

“If I acted solemn, she would immediately quit and seek a post in a far off land.” Dooley frowned.

Callan crossed the room to retrieve Dooley’s goblet and refill it. “I know,” he said, carrying his goblet as well as Dooley’s to the settee. He plopped down in a nearby armchair and handed the merchant heir his cup. “It’s who we’ve fallen in love with. To a brash, headstrong lady, and to a smart, business-hearted woman,” Callan said, holding his goblet up.

Dooley tapped his cup against Callan’s. “Hear, hear,” he said before taking a swig. “How did your parents take your refusal of the marriage proposal to Lady Aisling?”

Callan stared at his goblet. “If we’re going to talk about
that
, I will need another bottle of wine.”

“That badly, eh?”

“Father wasn’t surprised, and he didn’t care very much. Mother, on the other hand…”

“Lady Aisling took care to cozy up and become a favorite of your mothers. She’s a sharp girl. Shrewish, but sharp,” Dooley said.

“Mother hasn’t accepted it yet, but it doesn’t matter. I have officially refused,” Callan said, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“Any news regarding Jarlath, Teige, or Doyle?”

“None. I thought having Jarlath in the castle would make it easier to keep an eye on him, but my men have turned up nothing. He spends the majority of his time failing to be a womanizer and consuming alcohol.”

“Classy,” Dooley said.

“Undoubtedly.”

“If we’re lucky, maybe Dylan will learn something and bring it to us,” Dooley said.

“I wouldn’t count on it, but it is a touching thought,” Callan said.

“I think that deserves another toast. To your ocean flower and the gem of my heart,” Dooley said.

“It’s a wonder Cagney hasn’t clubbed you yet,” Callan said, but he raised his glass again, and the two friends tapped goblets.

“To our bright future,” Dooley said.

“Or to our ruin.”

“You’re such a warm spot of sunshine.”

“Thank you. I work hard for that image.”

“I imagine so.”

Dylan had two baskets—one for each hand—which she happily swung as she walked the perimeter of the beachside palace wing—Bump and Lump trailing her. One was full of a large pile of cooked shrimp, the other had a few rolls in it. She intended to have a picnic snack by the ocean to console herself—she had successfully broken into Jarlath’s quarters but the maps, unfortunately, were nowhere to be found—and was looking for one of the paths down to the beach. Aiming for the one that curled off by the royal rooms—the one Callan had showed her when taking her to the royal breakfast weeks ago—she realized the doors to King Rory’s personal library were open. Prince Callan and Queen Etain were there, arguing. Loudly.

“She is a good choice, Callan.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s my decision to make, and I have chosen
not
to pursue Lady Aisling,” Prince Callan said.

“But she’s perfect! She is beautiful and well-mannered. She comes from a good family, but not from too much money. She is intelligent and thoughtful.”

“Repeating what
you
see as her strengths will not move me, Mother. My mind is made up.”

“And you couldn’t have made up your mind sooner? Before this winter, perhaps?” Queen Etain asked.

There was icy silence.

“I have no quarrel with Miss Dylan,” the queen said. “I am forever indebted to her for the lives of my children.
But
! You cannot allow yourself to be so easily swayed, Callan. You will bring the country to ruin if you are always changing and adjusting your actions to mirror your wants and desires.”

“Enough! I will not marry Lady Aisling; I have never
wanted
to marry her, and any distinction was given from you alone. You should have taken my desires into account before you welcomed her attention so thoroughly on my behalf.” Callan’s voice was sharp as he deliberately turned his back to his mother.