Chapter 28
Celine paced the floor outside Michael and Damien’s room. She was unable to find Alexander when they returned to the house last night. After checking with Gray, she found his mother worse, now feverish. She prepared a concoction of healing aids for Elizabeth, spending the night at her side along with Gray. By morning, Elizabeth was awake but still feverish and still referring to Celine as Duchess Northcott. Celine had left Gray and Amos with her, giving them more of the mixture of herbs she had prepared to keep her fever at bay.
Damien soon joined her and moments after him, Michael. “Good morning,” she said to each of them as they entered the hallway.
“Good morning,” Damien said. “Let’s get some breakfast and relieve Alexander.”
Celine sighed. “Yes, I was unable to find Alexander last night when we returned. So, we won’t be relieving anyone. But, if I am correct, Benjamin is not even out of bed yet, so it is unlikely he is working on the painting let alone have it finished.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” Michael said. “We’ll eat fast.”
“How is Elizabeth, by the way?” Damien asked as they descended the stairs to the dining room.
“A bit worse,” Celine said. “But awake as of this morning.”
Damien shook his head. “Poor Elizabeth,” he said as they entered the dining room.
They found themselves alone, given the early hour.
“We must get that painting, sooner than later,” Michael said.
They ate in record time. Before they left the dining room, Damien shoved a few extra scones into his pocket. Celine stared at him, an odd expression on her face. Damien glanced up, noting her countenance. “What?” he asked. “We could be there for hours!”
Despite the dire circumstances shrouding the house, Celine giggled, shaking her head at him. “If you’re quite finished, we can be on our way,” she said, still laughing.
“Yes, I am quite finished, thank you,” he said, grinning. He offered his arm, which she accepted, and they followed Michael to the foyer.
When they arrived, Ramsey was closing the sitting room doors. “Mrs. Buckley,” he said as she crossed the entryway.
“Yes, Ramsey?”
“Mrs. VanWoodsen is here to see you. She is in the sitting room.”
Celine’s expression turned to stone. Annoyance was plain on her face. “You two go ahead. I will catch up with you as soon as I’ve dealt with this issue.”
“Good luck,” Damien said. “See you soon.”
Michael and Damien donned their cloaks, exiting the house. Celine took a deep breath, steadying her nerves before entering the sitting room. She pushed open the doors, entering the room. Celeste waited by the window. She turned to face Celine. “Good morning, sister dear.”
Celine closed the doors before speaking. “What do you want, Celeste?”
“To speak with you.”
“I’m busy, can it wait?”
“No,” Celeste said. “It’s urgent.”
Celine narrowed her eyes. “Then I suppose you better get on with it. What is it you want to speak to me about?”
“Your visit to Marcus last evening.”
Celine rolled her eyes. She stalked across the room, keeping her back to Celeste. “There is nothing to discuss, Celeste.”
“Celine, stop acting like a child.”
Celine whipped around to face her. “I am not the one acting like a child. I am not the one punishing innocent people because I did not get my way. I tried to reason with him, Celeste. He is impossible.”
Celeste approached her from across the room. “Reason with him? He is being reasonable.”
“Reasonable? Celeste, Gray’s mother is lying upstairs in her bed too sick to move. She is a victim of his wickedness. And for what? Because he cannot accept that I married another man.”
“He cannot accept that you broke your promise. You had no business marrying Grayson Buckley while you were engaged to Marcus.”
Celine rolled her eyes. “Oh, Celeste, please. My so-called engagement to Marcus was the charade, not my marriage to Gray.”
“Yet there you were seeking Marcus’ aid last night. You did not cling to your husband, you sought another man to assist you with your problems. Do you think that’s fair, Celine?”
Incredulous, Celine cried, “Because the situation is of his creation!”
“The situation is of your doing, Celine! You married Grayson Buckley without the permission or approval of Teddy and I as your guardians nor your fiancé!” Celine shook her head in frustration. “You created this situation, Celine. Then you beg him to take pity on you, to allow you to continue with this folly. To assist you in it even!”
Celine crossed her arms. “This conversation is finished.”
The sitting room doors opened as Celine attempted to end the conversation. “Good morning, Celine!” Teddy said. “I trust you are doing well.” He entered the room, closing the doors behind him. “By the appearance of my wife’s face, the conversation is not progressing as she hoped.”
“The conversation is over,” Celine said.
“She is no less stubborn now than she was before she married that man,” Celeste said, frustration clear in her voice. She turned to face the window, wringing her hands with vexation.
“Celine, as your brother-in-law…” Teddy began.
“You are no brother-in-law to me! I have no sister.”
“Now, Celine, I will not tolerate this!” Teddy shouted at her.
“You have no choice. You are no longer my guardian, Teddy. That position belongs to my husband now.”
“You don’t have a husband, Celine,” Teddy countered. “Your marriage is a pretense, a fraud.”
“My marriage is anything but fake. Now I will ask you and your wife to leave my home.”
Celeste whirled to face Celine. She hastened to her side, taking Celine’s hands in hers. “Celine, please. As your sister and someone who only wants the best for you, I beg you to reconsider your actions. Please, Celine, you cannot continue to live like this. The animosity between you and Marcus cannot persist.”
Celine pulled her hands away. “You should discuss that with Marcus. The animosity exists on his part.”
“Celine, listen to your sister’s advice. She is older, wiser and wants the best for you.”
Celine made one last appeal to them. “Then you couldn’t possibly wish for me a life with Marcus. I love Grayson and he loves me. Please support me in this and be happy for me.”
Celeste glanced to Teddy. “Celine,” Teddy responded, “We cannot support you in something we deem a mistake.”
Celine sighed. “Then again, I must ask that you leave my home.”
Celeste opened her mouth to respond, but Teddy stopped her, placing his arms around her shoulders and turning her toward the door. When they reached the doors to the foyer, Teddy paused saying, “Consider what we’ve said, Celine. I realize you are angry and upset, but please give it serious reflection when your emotions have quelled.” They left the room and the house. Celine watched them walk down the path away from the house. Their words rung in her mind. She shook her head, dismissing their comments.
She turned from the window. Many other things crowded her mind. First and foremost was rejoining Michael and Damien and continuing their plan to retrieve the painting. She exited the room, pulling on her cloak and leaving the house behind.
As she crossed the property, her mind could not stop dwelling on her sister’s words. Did they really expect her to leave her husband for Marcus? Would her life continue like this forever? A continual struggle, a constant fight for her independence from this man. No, she resolved, this would pass. The sting of her marriage was still fresh for them. It would settle. It would pass.
She pushed the conversation from her mind as she closed the distance to the barn. Within moments, she saw the barn. She scanned the area, trying to find her friends. They were well hidden. It took her an extra moment to find them. They had shifted
hideouts to one that provided a better view of the path leading toward the barn.
She crept behind them, squatting down between them. “Anything?” she whispered.
Damien, who was crouched behind a large bush, fell to his side. Michael jumped, almost revealing himself.
“Geez, Celine,” Damien said, regaining his feet and brushing his side off. “I didn’t realize silent stalking was one of your skills.”
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to startle you, I was trying to be quiet, so we weren’t given away.”
“You were a little too quiet,” Michael admitted. “And, no, nothing, no movement. That Stefano guy came in and out once, but nothing else, no visitors. I snuck up and peeked inside and no one is in there.”
“So, we wait,” Celine said, settling in.
“Yeah. How was your conversation with Celeste?” Damien asked.
“Useless,” Celine said.
“I assume she’s still on the Duke’s side in this whole thing?” Damien inquired.
“Yes, she is and so is Teddy.”
“I cannot understand how she is so delusional,” Damien said. “You’re her sister! How can she want you to marry that guy?”
“She is blinded by the power he offers her,” Celine explained. “And she finds it easier.”
“Easier?”
“Yes,” Celine said. “This struggle, the constant battle between us. She imagines it would be easier if I succumbed to his wishes.”
“I’ve heard of jealous ex-boyfriends before, but this guy takes the cake,” Michael chimed in.
“Ex-boyfriends?” Celine asked.
“Yeah, like your previous boyfriend. The man you dated before you married Gray.” Confusion crossed Celine’s face.
“Your sweetheart,” Damien said, using vernacular of the times.
“Oh!” Celine said, catching on. “Yes, well anyway I suppose Celeste has a point about my, what is it you said?”
“Ex-boyfriend?” Michael said.
“Yes, my ex-boyfriend.”
“What do you mean she has a point?” Damien asked.
“I assume much of the trouble that has surrounded everyone near to me since my marriage to Gray would no longer be an issue.”
“But at what cost, Celine?” Damien posed.
Celine shook her head, staring at the ground. “What is it costing everyone already?”
“Celine, no!” Damien said, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. “You’ve got to remain strong. You cannot give in to him!”
“Yeah, I agree. He’s a maniac. And besides, you love Gray and Gray loves you. You’ve done nothing wrong,” Michael added.
Celine nodded, giving them a tight-lipped smile. She grabbed each of their hands. “Thank you, both of you. I needed to hear that.”
Damien put his arm around her, giving her a half-hug. They settled into seated positions on the ground. There was no movement at the barn for several hours. After a while, Damien offered everyone some of the scones he had pocketed earlier after telling Celine that he was right to bring them. She giggled at him, though turned them down. She had less need to eat than they had, one benefit of being the way she was. She allowed them to keep them in case the hours wore on toward evening and they had to snack on them later.
The noon hour came and went and, after their meager lunch, they made quiet conversation, trying to make the passage of time as pleasant as possible. Afternoon wore on. They ran out of small talk, reverting to silent watching. Damien yawned as late afternoon approached. Celine worried he hadn’t gotten enough rest, though he assured her he was fine, merely bored.
A few moments later, their patient waiting was rewarded. Movement in the distance caught Celine’s eye. “There!” she whispered, pointing down the path.
The men squinted into the distance. Three figures were making their way down the path. As the party approached, they could make out the forms of Marcus Northcott, Theodore VanWoodsen and a blindfolded Benjamin Abbott.
They led the artist inside the barn without removing the blindfold. Michael stood. “I’ll go take a peek at what’s going on,” he whispered.
Celine grabbed him, pulling him back down. “Stop!” she hissed, motioning toward the barn. Marcus Northcott emerged from the doors and strolled down the path away from their hideout.
“Close call!” Damien said.
“Yeah, thanks for the save,” Michael said.
“It appears Marcus has more important things to do than wait for Mr. Abbott to finish the painting.”
“Wow, I expected him to want to be here the moment it was finished,” Michael said.
“Oh, I imagine he will be,” Celine said. “I’m sure one of his minions will fetch him so he can be here for the momentous occasion.”
“The question is, how long will that take?” Damien pondered, posing a rhetorical question.
“Yes,” Celine said. “Did you catch a glimpse of the painting last night?” she asked Michael.
“Yeah, I could see it. But I’m not sure how long his final touches will take him. Perhaps a few hours? That’s just a guess though,” he said, shrugging.
“Well, I suppose it takes as long as it takes. You’ve got enough scones to hold out for hours.”
“Very funny, Celine,” Damien said, shaking his head at her. They settled in for another wait. After an hour passed, Michael snuck toward the barn to peek at the progress. He returned within a few minutes, reporting that Benjamin was working on the background of the painting. By Michael’s amateur estimate, he thought they were in for a few more hours. Damien offered him another scone to nibble on while they waited.
As the sun lowered toward the horizon and mid-afternoon turned to late afternoon, Stefano left the barn, hurrying down the path away from them. Within thirty minutes, he returned with Marcus.
“He must be close to finishing!” Celine exclaimed in a whisper.
“Yes, then we’ll have to grab it once they’ve all left,” Michael stated. “I’m going to check it out.” He stood and crept toward the barn, stationing himself outside of the gap in the boards.
He peered through the gap, shifting around to position himself for the best view. Benjamin Abbott stood in front of the painting, putting a few finishing touches on it.
“Impeccable,” Marcus said, admiring the painting over Benjamin’s shoulder.
Teddy and Stefano stood a few feet away. Benjamin smiled at Marcus, dropping his arm to his side. “I’m pleased with the result, yes.”
“It is stunning. A piece of Celine’s soul alive inside this beautiful painting. All that’s needed now is your signature.”
“Yes,” Benjamin said. He picked up a small brush, dipping it into black paint. He signed the portrait at the bottom. “Finished!” he exclaimed, tossing the brush into a can.
“Yes, you are,” Marcus noted.
“Well, Duke Northcott, I suppose I’ll be on my way. I assume there’s no further need for the blindfold?”
“Just a moment, Benjamin, we’ve not yet completed our business.”
“Excuse me?” Benjamin queried. “You wanted the painting of Celine, you have it! My work is done here!”
“Yes, I have my… special painting of Celine. However, I want to be sure I have the sole painting of this kind of my sweet Celine.” Benjamin’s brow furrowed. Marcus continued, “I do not want a duplicate created.”
“All right. I won’t paint another,” Abbott agreed.
“I’m afraid a simple assurance won’t be enough,” Marcus said. Teddy and Stefano each grabbed a hold of Benjamin. He struggled against them as Marcus approached him. “I cannot take the chance that Grayson Buckley or Celine will make a strong appeal and you create a second painting out of pity for them.”
“I… I won’t. Duke Northcott, my loyalties lie with you,” Benjamin pleaded. “I swear, I won’t paint another for them. I… I’ll leave town, yes. I’ll leave town tonight, disappear, they’ll never find me.”
Marcus smirked a
t him. “An admirable attempt, Benjamin, but I prefer a sure bet.” He stalked closer to him. Benjamin strained against the two men holding him, but to no avail. Unable to escape, he made one last attempt to reason with Marcus.
“Please, please. I’ve done what you asked, I’ve always been loyal to you. You created me, gave me my talents. I’m forever grateful. I would never betray you. You have my word.”
“Yes, and now I will have my own assurance,” Marcus said, grasping Benjamin’s hand. Benjamin cried out in pain, dropping to his knees. Marcus twisted the hand, crumbling it as though it were only a sheet of paper. Benjamin howled in agony.
Shocked, Michael backed away a few steps, his eyes wide after what he witnessed. Gulping down his fear, he approached the gap. Marcus strode away from him, back toward the painting. “Now you may go, Benjamin. Return him to his cottage.”
“Should we blindfold him?” Stefano asked.
“It’s unnecessary,” Marcus answered.
Benjamin writhed on the floor in agony, his hand twisted into a grotesque shape. “My hand,” he cried, “my hand! You’ve broken my hand!”
“Yes, I’d venture to say you’ll never paint again. Such a terrible shame,” Marcus said, “you did such exquisite work!”
“You bastard!” Benjamin screamed as Stefano pulled him off the floor.
“Good evening, Benjamin,” Marcus said. “Oh, and no rush for you to leave town. Take your time.”
Stefano pulled him out of the barn. “Well, Marcus,” Teddy said, “you have your painting. Shall we go? We can stop at my home for nightcaps to celebrate if you’d like.”
“No, Teddy. We have business to attend to. The painting must be moved tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes,” Marcus answered.
“Surely, Marcus…”
“I said tonight! I want it in my home tonight.”
“Of course. Stefano and I will move it at once.”
“Good.” The two men turned their attention to the painting, commenting on various aspects. Michael backed away, returning to his hiding spot.
Celine and Damien waited in the shadows, the setting sun behind them. Celine gripped Damien’s hand. She focused her attention on Michael, pressed against the side wall of the barn and peeking through the gap in the boards.
Stolen Portrait Stolen Soul: A Shadow Slayers Story (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 2) Page 26