Free Twilight of a Queen by Susan Carroll Page A

as best he could, Xavier lurched from the cabin. Peering down into the murky depths of the hold, he could hear the dark lap of water, the grunts and shouts of sea dogs manning the pump.
    “How bad?” Xavier demanded tersely of Pietro.
    “Bad enough. Jambe’s above, fighting to keep us from steering onto the rocks.”
    “Rocks? We are near land? St. Malo?”
    “Don’t think so. We’ve been driven off course.”
    Which might prove a good thing, Xavier thought. The port of St. Malo was protected by a barrier reef that was difficult to navigate even in the fairest weather.
    Xavier shook his head to clear it of the potion’s effect, still feeling as though he were swimming through a fog.
    The ladder leading above deck pitched with the ship. Xavier cursed his own clumsiness as he struggled upward, only saved from falling by the support of Pietro’s strong arm.
    He emerged into a world far removed from the morning’s stifling calm. The deck heaved and shuddered beneath a roiling dark sky, angry waves spraying over the side. Flares of lightning illuminated the looming shoreline, harsh and unwelcoming. Granite rocks and a towering cliff that—
    Xavier’s heart stopped, his memory stirring with one of his father’s rare tales.
    “A high cliff guarded by a ring of menhirs, Louis. They are said to be giants, turned to stone by Mother Earth, given the task of forever protecting the island.”
    “And shall I ever see these giants, sir?”
    The piping ring of his eager child’s voice echoed throughXavier’s head. His unfortunate question had caused his father’s face to freeze as though he suddenly recalled who he was talking to.
    Xavier blinked as another burst of lightning lit the cliffside again. Faire Isle. Whether Xavier willed it or no, his father’s two worlds were about to collide.
    He had to suppress a hysterical urge to burst into laughter. Was this some monumental jest of fate or his father’s hand reaching from beyond the grave? Either way it didn’t matter. Xavier wasn’t having it.
    Bracing himself, he launched across the storm-battered deck, heading for the helm. The rain beat against his face, half blinding him. Thunder boomed in his ears as though the
Miribelle
was besieged by the entire Spanish armada.
    His beleaguered lady shuddered, heaving violently to one side, and shook him off his feet. He slid across the rain-slick deck, making a frantic grab for the rail. His wits, still dulled by the potion, rendered his fingers thick and clumsy. His hand closed on nothing but air.
    The
Miribelle
pitched again. Xavier roared out as the unthinkable happened. His lady flung him overboard. For a moment time seemed to stop as he hurled into nothingness.
    Then he was embraced by the cold arms of the sea.

Chapter Six
     
    S UNLIGHT BATHED THE SEA, THE GOLDEN WAVES CARESSING the shore like a lover mending a quarrel, the rage of last night’s storm all forgotten. Jane picked her way along the rocky outcropping.
    Here on the far side of Faire Isle, the vista was harsh, jagged fingers of rock stretching out into the sea, the vegetation sparse, only the hardiest of marsh grass and shrubs able to find purchase on a granite shore.
    Jane had always preferred a tidy expanse of meadow or the gentle green of a hillside. Never had she expected to feel this rush of breath, her heart swelling with each break of the waves over the rocks.
    She cast a half-nervous glance over her shoulder, reassuring herself that she was still within view of the cottagesthat passed for a village on the wilder part of the island, a scattering of rough stone huts that seemed carved into the face of the cliffs.
    Other women were stirring, venturing out to enjoy the soft morning. Young Carole Moreau twirled her small son in a joyous circle while nearby Madame Alain and Madame Greves shared baskets of bread and gossip. Madame Partierre trotted about, industriously gathering up driftwood to dry out for her fire.
    A tough wizened old lady, she was one