Never (Never, #1) (62)

“I’m sure he did.” She nods. “Nevertheless, who are you?”

“Daphne,” I tell her, but for whatever reason, that doesn’t quite seem sufficient, so I glance at Jamison quickly before I compulsively offer her my surname for no reason. “Beaumont-Darling.”

She looks me up and down and then, rather suddenly, without asking or warning, she grabs my hand. She flips it over in hers and inspects my palm, squinting at it. I look back over at Jem, my eyes wide with a mild concern, but he just gives me a half a smile.

Then the woman drops my hand and grabs Jamison’s. She runs her hands over his palm twice,? stretches it out, and peers down at it. Then she grabs mine again. Holds both our hands, lined up next to each other, and moves them around to catch the light she’s looking for.

“Hm,” she says. “Interesting.”

And that’s all she says before she drops both our hands and looks from him to me.

“She has the kiss.” She points to my mouth.

Jem nods. “I ken. I quite like it there.”

She glances at me. “Pan hasn’t taken it?”

I flash her a quick smile. “He’s tried.”

Jamison shifts a little uneasily next to me.

“I’m Itheelia,” the woman tells me.

My mouth falls open.

“Le Faye?” I blink at her. Of course! From the book! I thought she looked familiar. “The founder?” I clarify.

“Ah.” She sighs. “If you believe certain history books…”

“I’ve read all about you. You came here with your brother and—”

“And my best friends.” She nods.

“You travelled across six galaxies!”

“So have you.” She gives me a look. “Well, actually, Earth is perhaps just two stops from here, but nevertheless, quite a trip, wouldn’t you say?”

“Quite, yes.” I nod, staring over at her in awe before I find myself shaking my head. “I’m so sorry, I just—how are you alive still?”

She throws Jamison a look, as though I’m the rudest girl in all the world.

“It was a long time ago, wasn’t it?” I add quickly when she doesn’t answer me.

She nods, and a look I can’t quite place rests on her face. “Aye, it was a long time ago.” Then she clears her throat. “Why were you in a canoe, Daphne Beaumont-Darling?”

I cross my arms over my chest proudly. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“I see.” She nods and then her eyes pinch. “Now, when you say entertaining…” She eyes Jamison suspiciously, and I wonder if they’re going to have a lovers’ quarrel.

I would be fairly gutted if indeed he had brought me up a mountain to dangle his potential other lover in my face, and if she’s the reason he didn’t kiss me, even though it was snowing and the breeze was begging us to and everything, I suppose I should cause a lovers’ quarrel between them for just some small slice of justice.

Jamison smiles uncomfortably and I—already annoyed at him, both for indisputably ruining our (almost) kiss and for hypothetically being romantically involved with yet another person—clear my throat.

“It was entertainment of the sexual variety,” I tell her merrily as I toss him under the bus.

The woman rolls her eyes and growls, “Jammie.”

“Mum, listen—”

“Mum!” I interrupt, looking back and forth between them like a Ping-Pong match.

“Oh.” He gestures at her vaguely as a son might. “This here is my mother.”

“Oh!” I extend my hand to her again. “Oh, it’s such a pleasure!”

His mother shakes my hand with both of hers, smiling. “You know, he’s never brought me a girl before.”

Jamison shakes his head. “I’m no’ bringing her t’ye. She’s—”

“Is she a girl?” she asks her son, impatiently.

Jamison glances at me. “Aye.”

Her eyebrow lifts. “And she is here, is she not?”

Jem rolls his eyes and looks away, and I get the distinct impression that she is a woman who oft gets her way.

His mother shakes her head and holds up a hand to silence him. “Was it that Morrigan girl he was with last night?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t quite catch her name.” I look at Jamison, eyebrows up, asking without asking, even though I know it was.

He rolls his eyes and nods all at once.

“Jammie.”

“Unfortunately,” I say to reinsert myself into the conversation, “I saw it all. She was bent over a table and everything.”

Itheelia grimaces. “That is unfortunate.”

“All right, listen.” Jamison groans. “She wusnae too hard done by, ye ken.”

Itheelia gives him a tight smile, patting him on the arm. “Then, darling, that doesn’t sound like a job very well done, does it?”

He drops his head backwards towards the sky, defeated.

“Where’s your coat?” his mother asks. “It’s Baltic up here.”

“She’s wearing it.” He points to me, I think just a little bit eager to get the focus off himself.

“Why didn’t you bring a jacket?” she asks me, appalled. “Making my son freeze for you.”