“What do you want, Marcus?” Celine asked, crossing her arms.
“I should expect that to be rather obvious, Celine. I’ve come to collect you so we may begin our lives together.”
Celine was incredulous. “How many times must you be told? I am a married woman now!”
Marcus rolled his eyes. “This marriage is a farce, Celine. We both realize it, whether you will admit it or not.”
“It is not. We are married in every sense of the word by our own free choice.”
“It is a mistake, Celine. You’ll realize that in time.”
“This is becoming tiresome, Marcus.”
“As is your stubbornness and unwillingness to admit your mistake,” Marcus said, turning more serious.
“It was not a mistake!” Celine shouted at him.
Marcus grabbed her by the shoulders, heat entering his voice. “I have had enough of this, Celine. I have given you ample time to let this ridiculous childishness run its course.”
“Take your hands off me, you brute,” Celine shouted, wriggling in his grasp.
He released her; she stumbled a few steps backward. He smoothed his cravat and jacket. “If I were you, I would spend the next several hours saying your farewells to your so-called husband and his family. Let’s try to make this as painless as possible, shall we?”
“I will do no such thing!” Celine exclaimed.
“I warn you, Celine, I will have you, one way or another. It can be as easy or as difficult as you make it. Remember that, Celine. Anything that should happen as we continue to wage this war is on your hands.”
Fury burned in Celine, but guilt accompanied it. Marcus was correct. Any harm that befell Gray’s family was brought on by her. Her portrait couldn’t be finished soon enough. She hoped it brought some measure of peace to this house.
“Get out of this house, Marcus.”
“For now, Celine, I will go. But I shall return and when I do, I expect you to be prepared to leave with me.”
“Don’t count on it, Marcus.”
“We’ll see,” Marcus said, turning on a heel and leaving the house.
Celine fumed as the door swung shut behind him. She had put years and thousands of miles between her and Marcus Northcott. Yet he continued to create a disturbance in her life and now in the lives of her husband’s family. What had she brought to their doorstep? She shook her head as guilt washed over her. Tears formed in her eyes, a few spilling onto her cheeks. She wiped them away as she rushed up the stairs to her boudoir.
Michael and Damien began down the path from the main house. Damien made a show of pointing toward the construction site where Alexander’s home was being built. They hoped the misdirection covered any suspicion that Celine may have about their intentions for the day.
As the trees closed around them, Damien risked a glance back. “Do you suppose she bought it?”
“I hope so, although I think Celine is the least of our problems. It’s Gray who distrusts us the most.”
“Yeah, although I can’t really blame him. With that madman running around after Celine, I’d be wary of everyone too.”
“Agree to disagree. I don’t like that guy and I probably never will,” Michael said.
“Anyway, let’s see what the good Mr. Abbott is up to this dreary fall morning!”
“At least it stopped raining!” Michael said.
They continued down the path, branching off on the path that led to the cottage. As the cottage came into view, they hid themselves behind a thicket of trees. They didn’t have long to wait. Within fifteen minutes, Benjamin Abbott exited the cottage, strolling down the path toward the ocean.
“Nobody’s home,” Michael said, “I’m going in to look at what progress he’s made. Cover me.”
“Cover you? Wait!” Damien said, springing up to follow Michael as he rushed to the house.
“Keep an eye on the front door, alert me if he or anyone comes.”
“Right,” Damien agreed, nodding and posting himself in front of the front door as Michael disappeared inside.
Michael snuck through the unlocked front door and turned right toward the studio where they had found the painting yesterday. He circled the easel, pulling the sheet down from the painting. He studied it, trying to memorize the progress and compare it to what they had viewed yesterday. There were minor changes to the scenery surrounding Celine. It appeared nothing else was changed.
Michael covered the painting and hurried out the front door.
“Well?” Damien inquired as they took cover in the woods.
“He modified the scenery a little but nothing else. Nothing major.”
“Has he signed it yet?”
Michael pondered for a moment before answering. “No, I didn’t see a signature.”
“Then he’s not done. It’s often the last thing the painter does.”
“Then we wait. One of us will have to keep watch through lunch, the other through dinner. We can’t take a chance on missing anything.”
“Oh,” Damien said. “Got us covered for lunch.” He pulled a napkin from his pocket containing several pastries from breakfast. “I grabbed these at breakfast.”
“Nice!” Michael said.
“Dinner we’ll need to improvise. It will look strange if we miss it.”
“Yeah, we may have to leave him unattended and hope for the best.”
The morning hours were uneventful. The artist returned around mid-morning. From their vantage point, they could see the room with the painting. The curtains were open to allow light into the studio. Benjamin Abbott did not visit his studio room before lunch. As the lunch hour drew near, they nibbled on Damien’s stash of food to appease their grumbling stomachs.
The afternoon hours proved more entertaining. As clouds cleared, and the sun rose overhead, a visitor approached the cottage. Both Damien and Michael gasped when they recognized the caller. Duke Marcus Northcott strode to the front door, knocked and was admitted entry in short order.
“And there he is,” Damien said.
“Making his play for the painting, no doubt,” Michael said.
“Yeah, I wonder. I wish we could hear what they are saying.”
“Me too, but we dare not get too close. I have zero desire to run into that man again.”
“If he comes out with her painting though…”
“We follow him,” Michael said.
Marcus knocked at the cottage door. Within moments, the door opened. Benjamin Abbott stood at the door, shock plain on his face.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded of Marcus.
“Why, Benjamin! Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Marcus queried. “May I come in?”
Benjamin stood aside, allowing Marcus to enter the living room. “You’re no friend,” he snapped.
“Oh, come now. Let’s not entertain such bitterness between us. There is something important we must discuss.”
“And what is that?”
“A certain portrait you are working on. A very special painting of a very special lady.”
“Mina Buckley’s portrait.”
“Yes. I’d like to see it.”
“It’s not finished.”
“I don’t care.”
“No one sees my work unfinished!” Benjamin shouted.
“Surely you can make an exception for an old friend!” Marcus countered.
“I already told you, you aren’t my friend.”
“Now, Benjamin, must we go through this again?”
“The answer is no.”
“Must I be forced to remind you that the only reason your talents are sought after is because of me? You’d still be living in squalor drawing portraits for a penny if it weren’t for me. I gave you your talent, Benjamin. And now I’ve come to collect.”
Benjamin sighed. “What’s the difference, the other two already saw it.”
“What other two?”
“Mina’s cousins, the Carlyles,” he said.
Marcus’
eyebrows raised at the mention of the name. “Michael and Damien Carlyle?”
“Yes, that’s them. The pair of them let themselves into the house to gawk at my unfinished work,” he grumbled.
“I hadn’t realized they were in town. How fortunate that I might have the pleasure of seeing them again. I shouldn’t think much of their behavior, Benjamin. They are both impulsive and ill-bred. Now, shall we?”
Benjamin led him to the studio where Mina’s painting stood on its easel. Benjamin pulled the sheet draped over the canvas down. Marcus studied the unfinished painting. “Oh, Benjamin. It is exquisite,” he said, considering the piece. “You have captured her well.”
“You’ve seen it, is that all?”
“No, not quite.”
“What else do you want?”
“The painting when it is complete.”
“What? No! Grayson Buckley commissioned this painting! It belongs to him!”
“I don’t care if God himself commissioned it, you will give it to me and no one but me!”
“And how do you propose I explain this to Mr. and Mrs. Buckley?”
“I do not care how you explain it. That is none of my concern. Now, when can I expect my painting to be complete?”
Damien and Michael surveyed the house from their hiding spot in the woods. Each pondering what was happening inside the small cottage. The visit lasted less than an hour. Duke Northcott strolled from the cottage into the bright sunshine.
“Well, he doesn’t have the painting,” Damien said.
“Nope. It’s still in there, at least.”
“But he’s seen it.”
“Yep. He’s definitely after it. We can’t let him get a hold of it.”
“Correction,” Damien said, “we WON’T let him get a hold of it.” Michael nodded his agreement.
As evening approached, they discussed plans for the remaining hours. They determined it would seem too suspicious for them to miss dinner and could also be construed as rude. They reluctantly gave up their stakeout of the artist’s cottage and returned to the house to dress for dinner.
After dinner, Michael and Damien attempted to excuse themselves, hoping to make another trip to the artist’s cottage without anyone realizing. Their plans were dashed when Alexander and Gray asked them to join them in a game of cards. With Gray already suspicious of them, they found themselves with no other choice but to join. They frittered away the evening hours with small talk and rummy. Unable to separate themselves from the group, they retired for the evening when everyone else did, saying their goodnights outside of their room before Celine and Gray continued down the hall to theirs.
Within seconds of hearing the door down the hall close, Michael snuck from his room to Damien’s. The two discussed an alternative plan since their evening was a bust. They agreed to start fresh again in the morning, opting for some rest before continuing their stakeout. With the painting still unfinished, they determined it a safe bet.
Chapter 24
Morning dawned with bright fall sunshine. Sunlight streamed through the window of Damien’s room, awakening him. He rose from his bed, dressing for the day before making his way to Michael’s room. He greeted Michael, finding him almost dressed and ready for breakfast. The two enjoyed breakfast with the family, again excusing themselves afterward to travel to town for business.
They hastened down the path from the house toward town, doubling back when they were out of sight and heading straight toward Benjamin Abbott’s cottage. Lights shone from inside the cottage, signaling that someone was home. The two snuck to their hiding spot from yesterday and waited.
“Looks like Mr. Abbott is still home this morning,” Michael said.
“Yeah,” Damien answered. “I hope he takes a morning walk again and we can check the progress on the painting.”
“That’s what I’m hoping, too.” They waited in silence for a few more moments before Michael spoke again. “You know, this cottage isn’t half bad. I kind of like it. It would be nice if it’s still there in our time.”
“You mean for your move?”
“Yeah. Like you said, it’s close but not too close. I’d still get to hang out with you a lot. See the kids, too.”
“Kids? Oh, Avery’s kids.”
“Yeah, Avery’s kids.”
“They like you,” Damien said.
“They like you, too,” Michael answered. “And I like them. They’re cool kids.”
“Yeah, they are.” Damien paused. “And you could also see Avery more, too.”
“Huh? I mean, I guess I could see everyone more if I stayed on the estate, sure.”
Damien smirked at him. “She’s kind of pretty.”
Michael glanced at him. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“You hadn’t noticed she’s pretty? Come on!”
Michael opened his mouth to reply when Benjamin appeared, heading out the door and strolling down the path toward the shore. “Saved by the bell,” Damien said. “Come on, let’s go do a progress check before he returns.”
The two approached the house with Damien taking his post as guard at the front door while Michael let himself in. He darted to his right, entering the studio. Two steps into the room, he ground to a halt. His mouth dropped open, and he closed his eyes for a moment as disbelief washed over him. He raced from the room, returning to the front door.
“Well?” Damien asked.
Michael shook his head. “It’s gone.”
Celine walked with Gray and Alexander to the front door. “Going for a morning walk, darling?” Gray asked her.
“Yes. I’d like to enjoy the sunshine,” Celine answered. “Are you both going to town?”
“I am,” Gray responded. “I believe Alexander may have some other plans to attend to.”
“Yes, I’d like to check the progress on the building first. Mina, would you like to join me and walk to the site?”
“I’d be delighted,” she answered. “Gray, if you see Michael and Damien in town, could you show them some hospitality? Perhaps take them to lunch?”
“I’d be happy to, darling, but I doubt I’ll see them in town.”
Celine furrowed her brow. “They said…” she began.
“Yes, they said something similar yesterday, yet they spent the entire day outside of Benjamin Abbott’s cottage,” Alexander said.
Celine was silent, processing the information. “They are after that painting,” Gray said. “The question is why, for whom?”
“I’m not sure but I will do my best to find out,” Celine assured him.
“Be careful, Celine, Marcus arrived in town yesterday.”
“Yes, I am aware. He visited the house yesterday morning.”
“He what?” Gray asked, incredulous.
“I didn’t want to upset you,” Celine said. “He wasn’t here long. He made his usual threats before leaving.”
Gray seethed with anger. “How dare he step foot in this house.”
“His arrogance knows no bounds,” Alexander added.
“Gray,” Celine said, taking his hands in hers, “leave it.” Gray did not answer. “Gray, please,” she continued.
“You’d do well not to confront him as Celine suggests, cousin,” Alexander chimed in. “Do not give him the excuse or opportunity to widow her.”
Gray sighed. “I detest that man,” he said. “But I will not confront him.”
“Thank you,” Celine said, giving him a kiss.
“I’ll see you later for dinner, darling,” he said, returning the kiss.
“Shall we?” Alexander said, extending his arm for Celine. She took hold of it after Gray helped her with her cloak. She waved as they parted ways, Gray heading to town on his horse and Alexander and Celine toward the construction site.
They spent the better part of the morning overseeing the details at the site before returning to the main house just before lunch. As they entered the house, Ramsey approached. “Mrs. Buckley,” he said, taking her cloak.
“Ye
s?” Celine answered.
“You have a visitor waiting in the sitting room. A Mrs. VanWoodsen.”
Celine closed her eyes for a moment. “Shall I join you, Mina?” Alexander asked.
“No,” Celine answered. “Thank you, Ramsey. I shall see her now before lunch.”
“Very good, ma’am.”
“Good luck,” Alexander said, squeezing Celine’s hand before she departed for the sitting room.
She pushed open the doors to find her sister waiting inside, seated on the couch.
“Celine!” Celeste said, standing to approach her for a customary greeting of a kiss on the cheeks.
“What are you doing here, Celeste?” Celine asked, crossing her arms.
“I am visiting my sister whom I have not seen in recent months.”
“I doubt that. You’ve traveled here with him, haven’t you? And most assuredly you are here to do his bidding.”
“Whatever do you mean, sister dear?”
“Stop playing games, Celeste. I’ve already spoken with Marcus. He’s already made his demands. I assume he sent you to reinforce his ultimatum. To provide your sisterly advice to sway me to his side.”
“If you plan to dwell on the subject, then I shall discuss it. Consider what he’s said, sister,” Celeste said.
Celine sighed in disgust. “You really are quite something. To counsel your married sister to accept another man.”
“Oh, Celine, your marriage is a charade.”
“How dare you, Celeste? My marriage is not a charade. It is real and I am not leaving my husband. Certainly not for the likes of Marcus Northcott.”
“The likes of Marcus Northcott? Celine! This is no beggar off the street. You would be a duchess! You could be Queen one day. He is that well-bred!”
“He killed our father, Celeste!”
“Father’s unfortunate death is of no consequence in this discussion. The discussion is your future, not the past.”
“I am already married.”
“Because of a promise you broke to Marcus. You were betrothed to him. With mine and Teddy’s approval. You married Grayson Buckley with permission from no one but yourself. The marriage is invalid.”
Stolen Portrait Stolen Soul: A Shadow Slayers Story (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 2) Page 21