The Last Nymph

A Night to Remember

As Maera was now standing, dripping wet on the deck, everyone waited for some introduction. Doc was uncertain how he should intervene with this most unexpected event. Luckily, however, he did not have to, as Maera suddenly went into action weaving what Doc knew would either be an elaborate lie about her identity or simply come clean with the anxious crew—all nervously still waiting for the lovey girl to speak.

Stepping into to character, she looked over affectionately at Doc and smiled a grin of relief.

"Uncle . . . I didn't find you at your home, so I swam around the point hoping to see you on the cliff."

Doc froze, waiting for what she would say next.

"I looked for you from offshore. Then I heard your voice when I neared this ship. I hope you forgive me for intruding."

The group, still baffled by the girl's unexpected visit, looked with greater anticipation at Doc now, standing nearer to her. They all waited for his verifying response to put the bizarre situation into some plausible framework.

"Yes, Maera," he quickly answered, having no choice but to play along with the false narrative she was improvising. "You see, these wonderful people have invited me for dinner here this evening. But I'm just glad you're OK, sweetheart. It's late . . .you shouldn't be swimming this hour. And why so far from the castle, young lady?"

"You're right, uncle. It was poor judgement. But I do hope you introduce me to your new friends."

It had just become immediately evident to Maera, that the group, save for Doc, were all without clothing. Doc could see she was observably affected by the revelation but managed to stay with the ruse. One of the young women on deck produced a towel and Maera began to obligingly dry her face and hair, nodding self-consciously in appreciation.

Seth quickly spoke up for the good of all. "Well, for introductions . . . I believe I should do that . . . instead of your uncle, Love."

He had, once again, taken over the situation, hoping to smooth over the temporary fright and confusion which Maera's sudden appearance had caused them all.

"Well, I'm the skipper of this ship you be on, Lassy . . . and mi name 's Seth. This 'ere is mi good friend John. The ladies you see ere . . . all lovely like yourself, are Katie, Evie, and Sita."

She didn't stare at any of them, just managed a cordial smile.

"My name is Maera," she said softly, but craftily as a Nymph could be, she gave no clue of what Doc knew to be her true origins.

John then weighed in, feeling more at ease.

"You gave us all a bloody start, missy." He smiled nervously, as if for everyone's sake. "But now that you're 'ere . . . on deck with us, like your Uncle Doc . . . we welcome you aboard the Dove. A fine schooner she be. Out of Weymouth Harbour, England."

Maera nodded and remained quiet. It had been her history to play with the crews of ships for thousands of years, to lead them into or away from storms, depending on her impish moods. And these tempests could be both of weather or the human heart. Yet, this was a different scenario, as Maera became preoccupied with each of the naked voyagers, trying herself to make some sense of their nudity.

Kate stepped up closer. "That's a right fine dress you're wearing, Maera,"

She said this possibly begging the question of why the girl would be swimming in it. Eva approached her as well and reached out to touch the apricot-hued fabric. She also seemed deeply perplexed by the girl's incongruous attire to be worn in the sea."