Chapter 25
Celine nursed her sherry following dinner. She sat on the couch next to Gray’s mother, Elizabeth. Gray, Alexander and Amos sipped their brandy. “How’s the progress on the house coming, Alexander?” Gray’s mother asked.
“Very well, Aunt Elizabeth. Mina and I visited the site this morning. I’m pleased with the progress.”
“Will it be completed before winter sets in?”
“The exterior should be completed, leaving the interior work which can be done despite the harsh weather.”
“And you’ll leave us in the spring. What a sad day that will be!”
“Oh, Aunt Elizabeth, I’ll only be moments away.”
Elizabeth smiled at him before turning her attentions to Celine. “Mina, we missed your cousins this evening. I do hope we haven’t put them off!”
“No, Mrs. Buckley, they had some business in town. I’m certain their business ventures exceeded their expectations and they are dining in town.”
Elizabeth smiled at Celine before she rubbed her forehead. “Mother? Are you all right?” Gray asked.
“Oh,” she said, glancing at him, “yes. Yes, I’m just tired. I think I will retire. Good evening, everyone.” She stood before collapsing back to the couch. Amos, Alexander and Gray raced to her side. “Oh, I’m quite all right, quite all right. I merely misjudged my footing. Help me, Gray.” Gray offered his hand, steadying her until she was upright.
“Come, Elizabeth, I shall escort you to your room,” Amos said, offering his arm.
“Thank you, dear husband,” Elizabeth said. Everyone said their goodnights to the couple before they departed the room.
Gray closed the doors behind them. “What do you suppose is the real reason that your so-called cousins were absent from dinner, Celine?”
“I am not sure, although I am growing concerned about them. They left early this morning, and no one has seen them since.” She sipped her sherry again.
“It’s possible they returned while you were out. You were at the construction site all day.”
“No, only the morning,” Alexander explained.
“Oh? I returned home for a short while following lunch and found you not here. I assumed you were still going over the building.”
“No,” Celine said. “Celeste visited before lunch. We had words with each other. After her visit, I wanted to check the progress of the portrait. We went to call on Benjamin Abbott.”
“And?” Gray said, swallowing the last of his brandy.
Celine sighed. “He doesn’t have the painting.”
“What?!” Gray asked, incredulous. “Where is it?”
“He claims he moved it, that it merely wasn’t at his cottage,” Alexander added.
“That’s a lie,” Celine said.
“Why would he move it?”
“He maintains he found the Carlyles inside his cottage viewing the painting without his permission, therefore he moved it, so it remains unseen until he finishes it,” Alexander answered.
“Michael and Damien?” Gray asked. “That’s suspicious.”
“I agree,” Alexander said.
“And now they have disappeared,” Gray added. “I don’t like it.”
“It’s not Michael and Damien,” Celine argued. “We both know who has that painting.”
“He claims to know nothing about it, Celine,” Alexander stated.
“And you believe him?” Celine questioned.
“You spoke with Marcus Northcott about it?” Gray asked.
“We did…” Alexander began.
“Yes. I was furious when we left Benjamin’s. Despite Alexander’s protestations, I went straight to Marcus and demanded to know where the portrait was.”
“Celine, you mustn’t do such imprudent things!” Gray admonished her. “At least Alexander was with you. Thank you, cousin.” Alexander nodded to him.
Celine sighed. “I realize it was a mistake. Marcus would deny involvement even if he was caught holding the painting.”
“And you still are confident that Michael and Damien are not involved? They were caught viewing the painting when Benjamin was out, then spent the day watching his house. Are you sure they are not working with the Duke?”
“I have no reason to suspect they aren’t what they say they are,” Celine said. “And on that note, I’ll reiterate my concern as to their whereabouts.”
“They are two grown men, Celine,” Gray said. “They can take care of themselves.” Celine paced a few steps away from him, staring out the window. “And if they aren’t back by morning, we’ll search for them.”
“Oh, thank you, Gray!” Celine said, turning to face him.
“Now, shall we retire for the evening?” Gray suggested.
“Yes,” Alexander said, finishing his brandy. “Good night.”
“Good night, Alexander,” Celine said. “And thank you.”
Damien shifted around, trying to get comfortable. Time dragged by; minutes seems like hours. “Could they have made this floor any harder?” he complained.
“Don’t ask. I’m numb from the waist down,” Michael answered.
“Is he ever going to bed?”
“Probably not.”
“Ugh, are you serious?” Damien moaned.
“They don’t have to sleep, right?” Michael inquired.
“Yeah, but they still do! Celine does!”
“Celine’s not a power-hungry maniac.”
“True.” Noise sounded overhead. “Listen, he’s moving. Oh, perhaps he’s finally going to bed!”
Footsteps moved down the hall toward the front door. The door opened and closed. Voices floated through the floor. Damien stood and staggered over toward the sound to hear the conversation. Michael followed him, after stretching and shaking his leg that had fallen asleep.
“Is that…” Michael asked after joining Damien.
“Yeah, Benjamin Abbott. Oh, perhaps this gamble will pay off.”
They strained to hear the conversation overhead.
“Good evening, Mr. Abbott. I had begun to doubt you would come,” Marcus said.
“Yes, ah… I just came to tell you I’m not feeling well. I won’t be able to work on the painting tonight.”
“So, the painting’s not finished!” Damien whispered.
“Yeah, that’s good news.”
“Unable to work? Unacceptable, Mr. Abbott. I want that painting complete, sooner rather than later.”
“I cannot work tonight. My hands are, ah, shaky. I’d ruin it rather than finish it.”
“Due to your… illness?”
“Yes. I hope to work on it in the next few days, when I’ve recovered.”
“You aren’t ill at all, Benjamin, you’re drunk!”
“What of it?”
They overheard a scuffle. “I want that painting finished, Abbott. I do not want your excuses.”
Another rumbling overhead. “I’ll finish it, just not tonight!”
“I expect your work to resume tomorrow.”
“Why don’t you tell me where it is? Then I can work on it when my hands are steady, and my creativity is at its peak.”
“Thank you for the suggestion, Benjamin, but we’ll continue as planned. You will report here, and I will take you to the painting.”
“Fine,” Benjamin grumbled. “Have it your way.”
“I usually do,” Marcus answered. “Now go home and sleep off your drunkenness. I expect progress to be made tomorrow.”
Footsteps fell overhead, making their way to the door. The house fell silent. Within moments, footsteps made their way over the floorboards above. Marcus’ voice hollered through the house. “Dembe! I am retiring for the evening. Have my breakfast ready at 6 a.m. sharp!”
An undistinguishable response carried through the air. Footsteps disappeared up the stairs, becoming more and more distant. After thirty minutes, silence fell over the entire house.
“Suppose it’s safe yet?” Damien whispered.
“It’
s been quiet for a while. Give it five more minutes. If there’s no noise, we make a run for it.”
“Okay,” Damien answered. They were silent for a moment. “Probably shouldn’t make an actual run though. We should try to be quiet. More like make a slow crawl for it.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. That’s what I meant. I didn’t mean like a literal run.”
“Well, we could run when we get outside but inside a slow creep is best.”
“Okay, yeah, yes! Let’s forget waiting and just start our slow creep now.”
Damien agreed. They stood, stretched for a moment, trying to loosen their joints. They crept to the stairs, crawling up them one step at a time, wincing at every tiny creak. After what felt like an eternity, they reached the top. Michael reached out and gripped the doorknob, turning it millimeter by millimeter. He eased the door open a crack. Darkness met their eyes as they peered through the opening.
Michael pushed the door open enough to squeeze through the opening. When they both stood in the hall, he eased it shut, releasing the knob as slowly as he opened it. In the dim light, Damien motioned toward the front door then the back door, shrugging his shoulders. Michael motioned toward the kitchen where the back door opened to the rear of the house.
Michael and Damien snuck through the kitchen, escaping through the back door. They skirted around the house, finding the path and racing away from the house. When they reached the cover of the woods, they paused. Damien let out a sigh of relief as his chest heaved from the exertion of running. Michael’s breathing was also labored. He bent over, placing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.
“Whew,” Damien said, still whispering, “oh man, I really thought that was it. We were finished.”
“Yeah, me too. And I didn’t want to die in 1791.”
“Me either.” Damien said, taking another few moments to recover. “Well, should we return to the house?”
“Yeah. I cannot wait to crawl into bed.”
The two followed the path, returning to the estate’s main house. They retired as soon as they dragged themselves to their rooms. Both of them were too exhausted to discuss the day’s events or to create a plan for tomorrow. Damien was asleep within minutes despite the evening’s excitement. Dreams of being trapped filled his sleep.
Celine, Gray and Alexander left the dining room. They had eaten breakfast alone, Gray’s mother remained ill. She took a tray in her room with Amos joining her. Michael and Damien were also absent from the room. Celine worried about them despite Gray’s insistence that they were collaborating with the Duke.
Celine planned to check their rooms to determine if they had returned home the night before. She crossed the foyer when the front door opened. Icy wind gusted past her.
“Good morning, mon chérie,” Marcus said, entering the foyer.
Celine stopped in her tracks. Gray and Alexander closed the gap between them and Celine. “How dare you come into this house!” Gray shouted at him.
“Grayson, what an unpleasant surprise. I had to come. I wanted to check on Celine. She was so distressed yesterday. Tell me, darling, have you found your portrait?”
“Stealing it wasn’t enough, Marcus? You had to come to gloat, too?” Celine asked.
“I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ Such a terrible shame, I had hoped to see it. I imagine it is lovely yet no comparison to your stunning beauty, my dear.”
“Get out of this house!” Gray demanded.
“My, my, it seems I’ve upset you. Oh, I do apologize. I’ll take my leave.” He turned to exit. Turning back, he said, “Oh, Grayson, how is your dear mother, Elizabeth. I hope she is well.” He grinned at them before leaving the house.
Gray slammed the door behind him. Celine glanced to him, shaking her head. “We must find that painting and then leave this house,” she said.
“And go where?” Gray asked. “He’ll follow us.”
“Yes, but somewhere away from the family. Gray, he didn’t mention your mother to be kind. Whatever she is suffering from is his doing.”
“It’s likely she is correct,” Alexander said. “But you cannot spend your entire lives on the run.”
“He’s right,” Gray agreed.
“Yes, you both are correct,” Celine admitted. “But we should put some distance between us and your family for a short time. Until we can gain a better handle on dealing with him.”
“All right,” Gray agreed. “But we cannot leave until the painting is in this house. It’s too easy for him to stay and draw us back if we leave them with no protection.”
“Yes, that is why it is imperative that we locate the painting. On that note, I must determine if Michael and Damien returned to the house last night.”
“I hope they have,” Gray answered. “I’d like to know where they were and if they possess any information about the missing painting. Although I’m not sure I will believe a word they say.”
Celine turned to ascend the staircase as Michael and Damien appeared at the top. “Good morning,” she said, glad to see them.
“Good morning, everyone. Very sorry we overslept and missed you at breakfast. Our business took longer than we expected,” Michael said.
“I’ll bet it did,” Gray said, glaring at them as they descended the stairs.
“I hope it proved fruitful,” Celine said. “I must admit to being worried when you did not return for dinner.”
Damien smiled at her. “Thank you for worrying, but we are just fine.”
“What is your business, by the way?” Gray asked.
Michael glanced at Damien. “Ah…”
“Nevermind, don’t answer. You’re not from this time, yet you have some mysterious business in town that takes you until the middle of the night,” Gray said.
“We were trying to find the painting,” Damien answered.
Celine’s brow furrowed. “My painting?”
“Yes,” Damien answered.
“That’s interesting, considering you’d have no way of knowing it was gone!” Gray said. “Now what is the real story!” he demanded, grabbing Michael by the collar.
“Gray, please!” Celine said, pushing between them.
“That is the real story,” Michael maintained, straightening his jacket.
“How did you come to know the painting was missing?” Alexander pressed.
“We’ve been keeping, ah… tabs on it,” Damien answered.
“Oh, I’ll bet you have,” Gray said, stalking to the other side of the room. “I’m sure it’s important to Marcus Northcott to be kept apprised of that painting’s whereabouts at all times.”
“We are not working for him!” Damien cried.
“I don’t believe you,” Gray growled, glaring back at him.
Michael glared back at Gray. “You can believe us or not, but that is the truth. Now if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to have breakfast before we leave for the day.” He pulled his jacket straight one final time before turning on a heel and stalking off. Damien rushed to follow him.
“I do not trust them,” Gray said as they left.
“They do behave oddly,” Alexander agreed.
“What difference does it make now with the painting gone? What is important is finding it,” Celine said.
“I agree. I will visit Benjamin Abbott. Perhaps he’ll have more answers today,” Gray said.
“I’ll go with you,” Alexander offered.
“I hope your inquiry provides better results than ours did yesterday. I shall remain here,” Celine said. They parted ways, leaving Celine in the foyer as they departed toward the artist’s cottage. She stood for another moment as Gray and Alexander disappeared down the walk. She, too, had plans to track down the painting. They did not involve revisiting the artist who lied to them yesterday. Instead, she planned to search a few areas on her own.
First, she checked on Gray’s mother. She was doing no worse than she had been earlier but still could not move from bed without bouts of dizziness. Celine left her with Amos an
d ventured out to begin her search. Her first location was Marcus Northcott’s home near the sea. She let herself into the house while Marcus was out for a morning stroll. A quick search of his house turned up nothing. She departed the house dejected despite realizing finding it in his home was a long shot.
Her second stop was her sister’s home. She had no desire to speak with her sister, so she waited until the house was empty in the late morning hours before sneaking in. She searched every corner of the top two floors, finding nothing. She crept into the windowless cellar to complete her search. As she explored the basement, a noise sounded overhead. Hushed voices and gentle footsteps signaled people in the house. She secreted herself away in a dark corner of the basement, waiting.
Damien trailed behind Michael as he stalked from the foyer to the dining room. When they were out of earshot of the others, Damien stated, “Nice going! That guy really hates us!”
“The feeling is becoming mutual,” Michael said. “I’m starving. Missing dinner last night didn’t help.” They entered the dining room, finding themselves alone to eat.
“No. Today I’m taking enough of those scones to last us in case we get stuck again somewhere.”
“I can’t believe he thinks we’re working for the Duke. We’re back here trying to help him, getting stuck in a maniac’s basement for hours and he’s accusing us of working for the enemy,” Michael complained, piling food onto his plate.
“I guess we seem kind of suspicious.”
“I guess,” Michael agreed after some thought. “What’s the plan for today?”
“Well,” Damien said, stuffing eggs into his mouth, “we ruled out the Duke’s house. Where else might one hide an unfinished painting?”
“Perhaps at the house of his evil comrades?” Michael asked, also diving into his breakfast.
“Right!” Damien said, “Teddy and Celeste are here.”
“Perhaps we should try their house?”
“Yeah, that’s a perfect place. The Duke has easy access, and it’s less conspicuous than his own house. Who better to protect such a precious commodity than your righthand man and his wife?” Damien grinned.
Stolen Portrait Stolen Soul: A Shadow Slayers Story (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 2) Page 23