affection took on a desperate edge as the calendar moved inexorably on. The temperature dropped. The waterfalls which trickled down the rock faces, and which in the spring would become cascades from the melting snow, now froze into glittering icicles.
On the last day of the year, there was another good luck horse shoe to be cast, this time from a boat in the middle of the loch. Instead of returning to the castle, Fergus led them into the forest. Here, the ground was softer, moss and brown bracken underfoot, for the high Caledonian pines had protected it from the snow. The light filtered silver through the branches, the air smelt of resin and peat and fallen needles, which made the ground underfoot soft and muffled their footsteps. They stopped at a strange pool, the water green, deep, seemingly bottomless and icy cold to touch.
‘They say that this belongs to the wee folk,’ Fergus told Susanna. ‘Faeries,’ he explained, seeing her puzzled look, ‘and mighty powerful they are believed to be, in these parts. You’ve no idea the lengths some people will go to, to keep them happy—or to blame them when something goes wrong, whether it’s a lost shoe or a changeling child.’
‘Do you believe in them?’
He shook his head. ‘No, but I’m not daft enough to say so. It is said that if you look deep enough into this pool, you will see your heart’s desire. Do you want to try it?’
Susanna gazed down into the greeny water, smiling at the foolishness of it, but aware too of a strange fluttery feeling inside. It was the cold, she thought, even though she was wrapped in a fur-lined cloak which Fergus had found for her. Just the cold. She stared down, and could not for a moment work out what was wrong with what she saw. A reflection, which should be there. Except that it was not hers, it belonged only to the man behind her. She stared again, more intently, but though Fergus remained clear as if she were looking in a mirror, there was no trace of her own face. ‘Did you see that?’
‘Your reflection,’ he said. ‘Of course I did.’
‘No, I mean…’
She turned, but he was not looking at the pool. ‘We’re going to have to work awful hard at convincing people at the ceremony tonight, for I fear we’ve been too convincing in the run up to it,’ he said.
‘I don’t want to quarrel with you.’
‘Well, it’s that or spend a lifetime with me, and I know you don’t want that,’ Fergus replied with a wry smile. ‘I’m glad you came here. I hope you get whatever it is your heart really desires.’
‘Freedom. Independence.’ The ideas so long coveted sounded empty. But her heart’s desire was certainly not the man who had been reflected in the pool. It could not be. It was not what she had planned. ‘And you, Fergus, I hope that you’ll get your heart’s desire too. I hope you find your biddable wee wife, and I hope she makes you happy.’ She meant it, Susanna told herself resolutely. Even if she did sound most unaccountably forlorn. Fergus deserved someone to—to care for.
‘I’m not sure a biddable wee wife is really for me. I’m too much the soldier still. I’d be ordering her about and making her miserable. I need someone to stand up to me.’
‘Send her to me, I will give her lessons.’ Susanna stared down at the pool, where the pair of them were reflected now. If you satisfied a heart’s desire, could you then leave him behind? She was being foolish, affected by the other-worldly atmosphere of the forest, by the approaching ceremony, by her imminent departure. But once she left, she would never again have the chance. And wasn’t that one of her own resolutions, not to let her life pass her by? Relieved at having found, with this convoluted logic, the excuse she did not even know she’d been seeking, Susanna turned away from the pool.
Her heart beat fast, her stomach churned. Was she making a huge mistake? No. Was she sure? No, not sure-sure, but definitely take-a-chance sure.
On the last day of the year, there was another good luck horse shoe to be cast, this time from a boat in the middle of the loch. Instead of returning to the castle, Fergus led them into the forest. Here, the ground was softer, moss and brown bracken underfoot, for the high Caledonian pines had protected it from the snow. The light filtered silver through the branches, the air smelt of resin and peat and fallen needles, which made the ground underfoot soft and muffled their footsteps. They stopped at a strange pool, the water green, deep, seemingly bottomless and icy cold to touch.
‘They say that this belongs to the wee folk,’ Fergus told Susanna. ‘Faeries,’ he explained, seeing her puzzled look, ‘and mighty powerful they are believed to be, in these parts. You’ve no idea the lengths some people will go to, to keep them happy—or to blame them when something goes wrong, whether it’s a lost shoe or a changeling child.’
‘Do you believe in them?’
He shook his head. ‘No, but I’m not daft enough to say so. It is said that if you look deep enough into this pool, you will see your heart’s desire. Do you want to try it?’
Susanna gazed down into the greeny water, smiling at the foolishness of it, but aware too of a strange fluttery feeling inside. It was the cold, she thought, even though she was wrapped in a fur-lined cloak which Fergus had found for her. Just the cold. She stared down, and could not for a moment work out what was wrong with what she saw. A reflection, which should be there. Except that it was not hers, it belonged only to the man behind her. She stared again, more intently, but though Fergus remained clear as if she were looking in a mirror, there was no trace of her own face. ‘Did you see that?’
‘Your reflection,’ he said. ‘Of course I did.’
‘No, I mean…’
She turned, but he was not looking at the pool. ‘We’re going to have to work awful hard at convincing people at the ceremony tonight, for I fear we’ve been too convincing in the run up to it,’ he said.
‘I don’t want to quarrel with you.’
‘Well, it’s that or spend a lifetime with me, and I know you don’t want that,’ Fergus replied with a wry smile. ‘I’m glad you came here. I hope you get whatever it is your heart really desires.’
‘Freedom. Independence.’ The ideas so long coveted sounded empty. But her heart’s desire was certainly not the man who had been reflected in the pool. It could not be. It was not what she had planned. ‘And you, Fergus, I hope that you’ll get your heart’s desire too. I hope you find your biddable wee wife, and I hope she makes you happy.’ She meant it, Susanna told herself resolutely. Even if she did sound most unaccountably forlorn. Fergus deserved someone to—to care for.
‘I’m not sure a biddable wee wife is really for me. I’m too much the soldier still. I’d be ordering her about and making her miserable. I need someone to stand up to me.’
‘Send her to me, I will give her lessons.’ Susanna stared down at the pool, where the pair of them were reflected now. If you satisfied a heart’s desire, could you then leave him behind? She was being foolish, affected by the other-worldly atmosphere of the forest, by the approaching ceremony, by her imminent departure. But once she left, she would never again have the chance. And wasn’t that one of her own resolutions, not to let her life pass her by? Relieved at having found, with this convoluted logic, the excuse she did not even know she’d been seeking, Susanna turned away from the pool.
Her heart beat fast, her stomach churned. Was she making a huge mistake? No. Was she sure? No, not sure-sure, but definitely take-a-chance sure.
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