Free Miss Ellerby and the Ferryman by Charlotte E. English Page B

acquaintance with him.
Could she properly term him an acquaintance at all?
    ‘The
house of my friend is not far,’ she said, with some diffidence. ‘It
would please them to meet you, I have no doubt. May I invite you to
call upon us there?’
    The
Ferryman merely blinked and stared, his whole expression one of
such surprise that Isabel felt deeply uncomfortable. ‘I am sorry,’
she said quickly. ‘It was presumptuous of me.’
    He
opened his mouth, closed it again, and then shook his head. ‘It
was… kind o’ ye,’ he said softly. ‘An’ it’s been many a year since
I was offered kindness.’ He tipped his hat to her and smiled with a
deep warmth. ‘I’d be delighted t’ accept yer offer, only fer the
fact that I can’t.’
    ‘You
cannot?’ Isabel said with a frown. ‘It is true that we are barely
acquainted, but I assure you—’
    He
cut her off with a wave of his hand, his eyes glinting with
amusement. ‘Tis not that. Such niceties are of no matter in
Aylfenhame. I cannot, because of somethin’ in the nature of a
curse. I may not leave the boat.’
    It
was Isabel’s turn to stare, aghast. ‘Never?’ she said in a choked
voice. ‘But whyever not?’
    The
Ferryman’s amusement faded and his face turned grim. ‘That, as I
‘ave said, is more than I wish t’ share.’
    Recalling his earlier words, Isabel surmised that the
circumstances of his becoming a Ferry Keeper and the curse that
kept him from relinquishing the post were the same tale, and she
nodded. ‘Forgive me, it was not my intention to pry. But then…
shall you be bound forever?’
    ‘Mayhap,’ he said. ‘Most like.’
    Isabel thought back to her first excursion into Aylfenhame,
and the peculiar enchantment that had entrapped the princess
Lihyaen. She had been cursed to remain as hostess of the Teapot
Society, a party which never ended, and which no one was ever
permitted to leave — unless someone consented to take her
place.
    ‘Can
you not be released?’ she ventured. ‘What if someone were to take
your place here?’
    He
laughed. ‘I could hardly expect anyone t’ agree t’ that, now could
I?’ he said. ‘For who would be so foolish? An’ there’s the fact
that I ‘ave been gone so long, there’s none as remembers me now.’
He paused, and added, ‘Though there is a way.’
    ‘What
is it?’ Isabel said eagerly. ‘For truly, if there is some way I can
help you, I will.’
    He
looked at her oddly. ‘Ye ‘ave but just met me, an’ ye freely make
such promises?’
    Isabel hesitated, taken aback. ‘But of course,’ she said.
‘How can I but feel for such a plight as yours? I am free, and I
will help you.’
    His
brows lifted. ‘Ye cannot, I think. ‘Tis my name. It is held
hostage, lost entirely t’ time, an’ I must remain until it is
found.’ Isabel felt a flicker of excitement, for this seemed no
impossible task! But he smiled ruefully and shook his head at her.
‘Tis not so easy as I see ye fancy,’ he cautioned. ‘My name is
long-lost, and well hid. An’ many o’ my memories are gone along
with it. I can remember little that’d be of use t’ ye in yer
search.’
    The
words poured from Isabel’s lips without pause to consider. ‘I will
find it,’ she said. ‘I promise it.’ She did not fully understand
why she had made such a profound promise, and to a stranger, but it
felt right to say it.
    Something gathered in the air as she spoke; a sense of
pressure, or expectation. The Ferryman’s eyes narrowed. ‘Ye ‘ave
committed yerself,’ he said softly. ‘An’ there is no goin’ back on
it now. I only hope ye may not come t’ regret it.’
    Isabel merely curtseyed by way of answer, but as she rose she
found both her hands taken, and lightly squeezed, and then kissed.
She looked up into the Ferryman’s face in surprise, and found him
gazing at her with warm regard.
    ‘Ye
are fair unusual,’ he said. ‘Did I ever meet such a vast heart as
ye seem t’ possess? I think not.’
    Isabel