“My father doesn’t have dominion over my life. He never has.” She stiffened with her statement, but she settled when he drew his hand down her back.
“But that’s the way we do things here. We gentlemen see a pretty lass, and we go and ask for her father’s permission to court her.”
She sat up quickly. “I believe we are a little past the courtship stage.”
“So, we put the cart before the horse.” He chuckled at the look of exasperation on her face.
“That is a moot point. My kind doesn’t marry your kind.”
“Robin and Sophia did. Your mother and father did.”
“My mother and father made a mistake. And I fear that Robinsworth and Sophia did too.”
“Why did your grandparents raise you?”
r /> “When a child is born to parents, one of whom is fae and one is not, the fae children are taken back to the land of the fae to be raised there, along with any parent’s memory that they existed. The memories are sealed in a box and set high upon a shelf.”
“That’s awful,” Finn breathed. No wonder she was bitter about the situation.
“That’s why fae cannot marry nonfae. It’s one of the Unpardonable Errors. Losing your children is the punishment for it.”
“Your parents kept the ones who were not born fae?”
“Yes, two girls and a boy. One of the girls just happens to be fae. But they kept her anyway. I don’t know how. Some kind of special magic my mother discovered.”
“I feel certain they wanted to keep you.”
“They never should have married to begin with.”
“But they did. There’s no taking it back.”
“Just as there’s no taking back a child.”
Good God. No wonder Claire was bitter about her parents. She’d been all but abandoned, in her estimation.
Finn could sit and hold her like this all night. He’d never been one for cuddling, but he enjoyed having her in his lap, pressed against his side.
But his comfort also brought to mind that if he couldn’t marry her, he couldn’t have her at all. All of his hopes dashed like water against the rocks at the shore. He’d had her once. He supposed once would be enough.
“I think you’ve underestimated your parents’ love for you.”
“I think you’ve overestimated their level of caring.”
“What was it like when you first saw them?”
“It was the night you and I had been together,” she said quietly, so quietly he could barely hear her. “My grandfather died that night, and they sent the wind to pick me up and take me back to the land of the fae.”
“The wind?”
“It’s how we travel. The wind takes us to and from our land on the night of the moonful. Otherwise, we have to pass through a portal. The portal is guarded by fish. Or fallen faeries who have been turned into fish. They sent the wind for me on a night that wasn’t a moonful, since it was an emergency.”
He must have looked astounded, because she laughed lightly.
“There’s much you’d have to learn to understand my land.”
“I’d like to visit it.”
“It’s forbidden.”