Seacliff

Chapter forty-four: Welcome to the world

1920

"He must have tossed me in the sea," Sorley ended his tale. "Thinking me dead. And then you found me, my Saoirse. I'm not sure if it was the blow or the hair – "

"The hair?" James interrupted.

"Yes, the hair." Sorley's had grown overlong and Saoirse had plaited it for him in the morning. It hung across his chest like a dark rope threaded with silver. "A selkie's hair merges with the sealskin and binds one's mind to it."

"So, because I cut your hair..." The colour drained from Saoirse's face. "It was my fault, all along..."

"No, my Saoirse." Sorley leapt from the windowsill to her bedside, kneeling on the floor, grabbing her hand to kiss it. "You saved me. Selkies might live long, but we are not immortal."

"You were so scared." She cupped his face. "Terrified." Tears slipped from her eyes. "You were so scared of the darkness and forgot your family because I stupidly cut your hair."

She pressed her lips to his forehead, cradling him at her chest. His strong arms wrapped around her torso to hold her close.

"Forgive me, my love," she said. "My foolishness has caused you so much grief."

He raised his head to kiss her and wipe the tears off her cheeks. "And you gave me so much love in return."

"Why did you leave?" James cut in, his voice cold.

Saoirse couldn't blame him.

She couldn't even begin to imagine how complicated James's feelings for Sorley must have been. Not to mention the possessive attachment he'd developed towards her since their wedding. Which was also understandable, considering he had to constantly defend his status, morals, and manhood in the face of malicious detractors. He was a man, husband, and father, and any statement to the contrary was an affront to his person.

"I left because I remembered," Sorley said. "I left because my daughters were calling to me." His thumb rubbed the back of Saoirse's hand. "They were trapped in the caves, afraid to leave. Afraid they would not know to find their way to our island. Their mother, she..."

His fingers reached for the black pearl tied on a string around his neck. It reminded Saoirse of Aoife's pendant, the memento she wore in Eachann's memory.

"Sorley..." She caressed his hair and stooped to kiss his head. "My love, I'm so sorry..."

"She died," he explained for James's sake. "An dara... Dara told me that the man chased them and her mother fought him... He killed her and threw her off the rock. The girls hid in the cave, protecting my fourth and her newborn. Their dying mother floated into the cave at dawn.

"All they could do was help her into her sealskin, where she perished from an awful wound to her stomach. Only the black pearl was left of her when I was reunited with my daughters. I took them back to the tropics, tended to them..."

His hand patted Saoirse's abdomen and she placed hers over it.

"I could feel you were with child and I wanted to come to you. But I could not leave until I was assured my daughters were well. Then I felt it, the summons of the birth. I feared my daughters would stop me, so I waited for nightfall to swim secretly away. Only, Dara followed me, said I would need a woman's help. I couldn't argue."

At last, a smile, and Saoirse's heart fluttered.

"If I had left when the summons struck me, I could have been here sooner." He kissed her hand again. "I'm sorry you suffered because I was late."

"You made it just in time," Saoirse reassured him.

Sighing, James rose from the bed and made for the door. "It seems I have misjudged you," he told Sorley. "I owe you an apology, but more than that, I suppose I owe you both some privacy. I'll be downstairs if you need me."

"James, wait," Saoirse called out and swung her legs out of bed. Sorley helped her to feet. "Walk with me to the nursery. That's where you sent Dara, didn't you?"

"The bairn's chamber?" Sorley's arm circled her waist, while his other hand supported her elbow. "Yes, indeed."

Saoirse motioned for her husband to join them. He held the door open, then took her free hand. They ambled along at her snail's pace until they reached the nursery, where Sorley eased her down into a rocking chair by the baby's crib. She held out her arms and he brought her the child.

"Do you want to hold him, James?"

James hesitated.

"Come on," his wife encouraged him. "You've held many a baby in your lifetime. This one will be no different."

He approached, still reluctant. "You are wrong, Saoirse, for this is my son, not a patient's. It's my baby boy."

She passed him the bundle, careful with the head. Her husband struggled to stand upright as his eyes glossed over.

"He is very, very precious," James whispered. "The spitting image of you, Saoirse, love."

She squeezed Sorley's hand on her shoulder. "I want his name to be Aidan," she said. "After my late husband."

"Of course," James sniffled. "It's a beautiful name, and a beautiful gesture."

"Aidan Alexander," she added.

James froze, disbelief etched in his features. "Saoirse, you don't have to. In fact, you really shouldn't. The man despises you."

"It's your father, James. Perhaps this will help him warm up to his grandchild. I don't want you two to become estranged because of me."

"It's not because of you. This estrangement has been a long time coming, you've just finally provided him with an excuse."

"Besides," she insisted, "it was your eldest brother. Your favourite brother. What better way to honour his memory?"

"Oh, Saoirse, are you most certain?"

"Absolutely."

James bit hard into his lip. It looked to be all he could do not to crumble and weep like a willow on the rug.

"What does it mean?" Sorley asked. "Aidan?"

The baby began to gurgle, sounding troubled, and Saoirse beckoned James to pass him back to her.

"Little fiery one," she answered. "He's supposed to be an Irish sun god and is also believed to be the son of the sea god, Lir. Or so my husband used to brag. It felt fitting in more ways than one."

"Aidan...," Sorley repeated, tasting the word on his tongue. "I like it."

"Aidan Alexander Mortimer," Saoirse recited it like a spell that would seal the selkie boy's tumultuous fate. "Welcome to the world."

Sorley dropped to his knees at her feet, kissing the little elbow that wriggled free of the blanket. James draped an arm around Saoirse's shoulders and kissed the top of her head as her chair slowly rocked back and forth.