Celine approached number four Canterbury Way. She climbed the steps, knocking at the door. She adjusted her cloak and ensured her hair was presentable as she waited. The butler opened the door.
“Mrs. Marcus Northcott to see Mr. Alexander Buckley,” she presented herself.
“Mr. Buckley is currently out but should return soon. Would you care to wait, Mrs. Northcott?”
“Yes, thank you.” Celine entered the home, following the butler to the sitting room.
“I shall announce you as soon as Mr. Buckley returns,” the butler informed her.
“Thank you.” Celine perched on the edge of the couch, awaiting Alexander’s return.
Moments later, the door to the room opened, and a man walked in. Celine expected Alexander but was surprised to find an unfamiliar face. Celine gazed at him, finding his stormy blue eyes mesmerizing.
“Oh,” the man said, speechless for a moment. “Apologies, I didn’t realize anyone was in here.”
Celine smiled at him. “No apology is necessary, Mister… Well, it is my turn to apologize, I do not believe we are acquainted.”
“No, we have never been introduced. I should have remembered a face as beautiful as yours. Grayson Buckley, at your service.”
“You are too forward, Mr. Buckley,” Celine replied, extending her hand for him to take. “My husband would not appreciate your brazen sentiments. Mrs. Marcus Northcott.”
Gray stopped for a moment, realizing who she was. “You are Celine Northcott?”
“I am,” she answered.
“Forgive me, I did not expect you to be so… well, I should hold my tongue before I upset your husband again.”
Celine offered him a slight smile. The two held each other’s gazes for a moment until the door opened. “Duchess Northcott, I…” Alexander announced, stepping into the room. He stared at the scene in front of him. Celine backed a step away from Grayson, averting her eyes from his as she glanced toward the fireplace. “Oh, excuse me. I did not realize you were not alone.”
“I was fortunate to make the acquaintance of your… brother, is it?” Celine asked.
“Cousin,” Alexander corrected.
Celine nodded. “A pleasure, Mr. Buckley,” she offered a slight smile. “Thank you for providing company as I waited for your cousin’s return.”
“Of course,” Grayson answered before leaving the room.
“Allow me to begin anew,” Alexander stated. “My sincere apologies for the delay. I had business in town.”
“No doubt you are a busy man,” Celine answered. “I took a chance to pay you a call regarding your request yesterday.”
“How gracious of you,” Alexander replied.
“I have spoken with Lady Blackburn, and she was courteous enough to favor my request. I have secured an invitation to Lord Blackburn’s ball to be held two days hence.” Celine held out an invitation. Alexander accepted the card from her.
“Oh, how wonderful! My cousins will be thrilled to hear the news. We cannot thank you enough for your graciousness to orchestrate the invitation. You are too kind, Duchess.”
Celine offered a tight-lipped smile. “Tell me, will your other cousin, Grayson, attend?”
“Oh,” Alexander answered, thrown by the question, “I am unsure of his plans.”
“I see,” Celine replied. “The invitation extends to your family, please see that he is also included.”
“I will,” Alexander promised. “And thank you for waiting, I hope I did not keep you too long.”
“Not at all. I shall see you at the ball, Mr. Buckley.”
“Good day, Duchess Northcott.”
Celine departed the house, though her thoughts did not. Alexander opened the sitting room doors, finding Michael, Damien and Gray on the other side. “We just saw her leave,” Damien said. “Well?”
“She acquired the invitation.”
“All right! Now all we need is a plan,” Damien exclaimed.
“The ball is in two days. We should discuss our approach this evening.”
“We haven’t had much luck in remembering anything else,” Michael admitted.
Gray poured himself a brandy, silent thus far. “Oh, before we enter any discussions, Gray, Duchess Northcott made a point of extending the invitation to you,” Alexander said. “Thank you for keeping her company before I returned.”
Michael and Damien glanced at each other. “An easy task,” Gray remarked. “She is quite lovely.” Damien raised an eyebrow at Michael.
Alexander gave him an odd look but continued with the conversation. “Well, we need a plan, gentlemen. I suggest we discuss it following dinner.”
“Can’t plan on an empty stomach!” Damien exclaimed.
The four men dined, then spent the evening in a discussion about how to handle their interactions with Celine at the upcoming ball. By the end of the evening, they were no closer to a plan. They retired for the evening, frustrated.
Before going to bed, Damien did not miss the opportunity to call Michael’s attention to Gray’s obvious fondness for Celine. It added credibility to his theory that they were meant to restore Gray and Celine’s relationship. Damien fell asleep hoping tomorrow brought them more information.
Celine returned home after her visit at the Buckley residence. She’d expected to find Alexander Buckley at home, pass along the invitation to the ball, and return home without incident. Alexander had not been home and instead, she had met his cousin, Grayson Buckley.
In her position, Celine met many people, but none of them had the effect on her Grayson Buckley did. She recalled his stormy blue eyes. They were piercing, almost as though they saw into her soul.
What was it about the Buckleys that struck her so? First, her odd encounter with the Carlyle brothers. They had also made an impression, albeit of a different kind. Something about them seemed familiar to her.
She tried to shake the feeling from her as she removed her cloak. It would pass, she assured herself. If it did not, she would get to the bottom of it. Her gut reactions were rarely incorrect. If there was more she needed to know, she would find out.
Present day, Bucksville
Gray rubbed Celine’s shoulders. “Why don’t you get some rest, Celine?”
Celine shook her head. “I can’t, Gray.”
“He’s fine, Celine. You heard Millie, his breathing is normal, pulse is normal.”
“But his body temperature is still low.”
“It’s nothing to be worried about. It’s only a tad bit low. Millie didn’t think it was an issue,” Gray responded.
“Why is it still low? In both of them?” Celine questioned, leaping from the bed and pacing the floor.
“Reaction to the stress, perhaps,” Gray suggested.
Celine shook her head. “No. No, that’s not it,” Celine responded. “Something else is wrong, Gray. Something is off.”
“There’s no evidence of that,” Gray answered.
“I sense it.”
Gray approached her, wrapping her in his arms. “You’re worried, Celine. With cause. Damien’s condition is a concern, I agree. But we don’t have any evidence that supports it being anything beyond a reaction to the shock wave.”
Celine laid her head on Gray’s shoulder. “I hope you’re right, Gray,” she answered. “I hope you’re right.”
“I am,” he assured her. “Now, why don’t you get some rest?”
“I’d like to stay with him,” Celine said.
“All right. But try to get some sleep.”
“I will. I just want to stay in case anything happens,” Celine responded.
“Okay. Good night, Celine. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Gray. Good night.”
Celine climbed onto the bed next to Damien as Gray left the room. She grabbed Damien’s hand. His fingers were cool to the touch, reflecting his lowered body temperature. She squeezed them between her hands, trying to warm him. “Please be okay, Damien,” she whispered before closing her eyes to sle
ep.
Chapter 17
1812, London
Damien climbed out of bed early the next morning. He found himself unable to sleep again. While he slept better than he did the previous night, he was now wide awake despite the early hour. As he dressed, a light knock sounded at his door. He opened it, finding Michael on the opposite side.
“Couldn’t sleep, sorry if I woke you,” Michael said, pushing past him into the room.
“I wasn’t sleeping either.”
“I was up most of the night,” Michael admitted. “And after a night’s worth of pondering it, you’re right. We have to be back here to do something and I agree it’s to right whatever wrong occurred between Celine and Gray. Something obviously went haywire, and she ended up married to that jerk, Northcott. Now, why Celine sent us back to 1812, I’m not sure, but she must have considered this the best time for us to do whatever it is we’re supposed to do.” Damien didn’t answer, a slight smile on his face. “What?” Michael questioned, noticing Damien’s expression.
“You’re starting to sound like me,” Damien joked.
Michael chuckled. “You must be rubbing off on me.”
“Okay, so we agree on what we need to do, what our goal is,” Damien summarized. “Now, we need a plan to do it.”
“That’s where my similarities to you end,” Michael claimed. “I’ve got nothing on that front.”
“Neither do I,” Damien admitted. “While I’d feel WAY more comfortable going to this ball with a plan, this might be one of those times where we have to wing it. We might need more experience with new Celine to form a plan.”
“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “Perhaps that’s the issue. I feel so off-kilter with her. In every other instance, we’ve just been honest with her, kind of told her what facts we had, and she pitched in to help us. This time it’s like she’s the enemy. We almost can’t trust her.”
“If she’s as close to the Duke as Alexander says, we can’t trust her, no. Which is why we have to get her to trust us and distrust him. If we could only find some way to prove the angle with her father’s death…” Damien responded, his voice trailing off.
“But how?”
“I’m not sure. It’s a dead-end right now. I want to use it, but right now we can’t.”
They paused in their conversation, each considering the problem. “Okay, let’s go back to working on the memory loss,” Michael suggested. “Perhaps something will pan out there.”
“Okay,” Damien agreed. “Let’s see. You said everyone was concerned for my health. I’ve been wracking my brain about this, but I’m not sure. Everyone’s concern for me implies it was something beyond a common illness like a cold…”
“COLD! That’s it!” Michael exclaimed, interrupting Damien.
“Huh?” Damien responded.
“Shh, wait…” Michael hushed him. His brow furrowed as he recalled it. He let his rambling thoughts spill out of his mouth. “Cold, you were cold… always cold… hypothermic. We had to keep warming you up. Why? You’d be asleep… no passed out, and you’d wake up freezing and sick.”
Damien fed off Michael’s comments, processing the information to aid in his memory recollection. His brain showed him snippets of memories. He struggled to piece them together. “Okay, stream of consciousness here. I remember bits of pieces of things that fit with what you’re telling me. Waking up in the woods sick, near the fireplace at Alexander’s and being wrapped in a blanket a lot.”
“Yes, right! You were always cold. Why were you always cold?”
Damien considered it a few moments longer. “The place I went was cold. I was going somewhere. Where? Why would I be going somewhere alone? And why was it cold there?”
Michael glanced at him. “You passed out! You’d go there in your mind or something like that. It was weird. It was another place, like not on earth.”
“I went to a place not on earth?” Damien questioned.
“Yes. At first you figured it was a dream, because it happened when you fell asleep. Then Millie hypnotized you. And then you’d just fall over shaking wherever you were, and you’d be in this other realm.”
“Yes, yes, that’s right. And Celine would be there! She’d talk to me and tell me what was happening, but it was so cold, she’d have to send me back within minutes! I remember!”
“Yes! Now, what did she tell you? Do you remember that?”
Damien pondered it longer. “Uh, she was missing. She told me… she told me the Duke had her! And she was getting Celeste changed back from a vampire!”
“She told you she was at the old mill. But we went there, and no one was there. It was some kind of spell!”
Damien’s excitement grew. They were close to piecing everything together. “Yes! Then what? How did we find her? We must have found her because she sent us back here right?”
“Yeah… but how?” Michael questioned.
Damien paced the floor of his room. “It’s no use, I have no idea!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air in frustration.
“Oh, come on!” Michael responded after another moment of musing. “We’re so close!”
“Do we know if Celeste is not a vampire anymore?” Damien asked.
Michael pondered a moment. “I’m not sure,” he answered.
Damien sighed. “Okay, good stopping point, I guess. It’s almost time for breakfast. We can try again later.”
They made their way to the dining room, joining Alexander and Gray for breakfast. They discussed any ideas for a plan but informed the Buckleys they may need more time. Gray agreed, suggesting they use the ball to observe and learn rather than enact anything too extravagant.
The idea didn’t sit well with Damien. He liked to be prepared, however, he didn’t see any other choice. Alexander had business in town, so they spent the day wandering around London. They visited several of the sights, feeling almost like tourists. The distraction provided Damien with much needed stress relief and entertainment. Michael enjoyed the experience far less than Damien. They returned to the house for dinner, opting to turn in early in the hopes that a good night’s rest allowed them to fill in the remaining gaps in their memories. They also wanted to prepare for the upcoming ball tomorrow evening.
Celine joined Marcus at the breakfast table early. “Good morning, darling,” Marcus greeted her, glancing up from his newspaper.
She kissed him on the cheek. “Good morning.” She was served her usual breakfast of porridge. “Have you much business to attend to today?”
“A fair amount, but I shouldn’t be late.”
“We dine with the Richardsons tonight,” Celine informed him.
“I haven’t forgotten but thank you for the reminder, my dear.”
Celine smiled at him. “I hope I shan’t make us late. I’ve my final dress fitting today for the ball tomorrow.”
“I’m sure the dressmaker can see you early,” Marcus suggested.
“I’ve tried, but she is completely booked. Surprising at this time of the year.”
“Arrive early, dear, she will not turn you away. Not with what I pay her.” Celine smiled at him again. “Did you secure the invitation for the Buckleys?”
“Yes. I called on Lady Blackburn yesterday. She was most gracious in accommodating my request.”
“I should think she was. Lord Blackburn owes us several favors.”
“I informed Mr. Buckley yesterday. He was quite pleased.”
“And now he owes us a favor,” Marcus noted.
“I did not realize he had another cousin. Grayson Buckley. Are you acquainted with him?” Celine questioned.
“I’ve met him once,” he responded, never glancing up from his paper. “A useless man if I’ve ever encountered one.”
“He seemed… kind.”
“Kind? My dear, there are many virtues in a man to be prized, but kindness is the least among them.” Celine glanced to him before continuing to eat her porridge. “You do not care for my comments. Oh, dear Celine, you are too te
nderhearted.”
“A quality you do not value.”
He stood, folding his paper and setting it on the table. “In you, dear, I treasure every quality. You are not a woman who gives in to foolish notions. But you should rely on my expertise in these matters as your heart sometimes clouds your head. I am off. Enjoy your day, my dear.” He kissed her forehead before disappearing from the room.
Celine considered his words. She recalled a time when she had been a foolish romantic. She was a child then. Her father, who raised her alone after her mother’s death, had doted on her, allowing her to run free. The result was a carefree young woman with headstrong convictions. Marcus had reigned in her blither nature. And she was all the better for it, she reminded herself.
Still, she mused, as she finished her breakfast, Grayson Buckley awakened sentiments in her she hadn’t entertained in a long while. She shook her head, dismissing the notions. Foolish girl, she reflected, you have made your choices. And you have made good, solid choices. Her sister’s voice echoed in her head, adding the last line. No one had been more thrilled with her decision to marry Marcus Northcott than her older sister, Celeste. Yes, she reflected, she had made a solid match in Marcus. A match most women could only dream to achieve. Yet she had achieved it. She must suppress these foolish romanticisms and focus on her chosen path.
Present day, Bucksville
Celine stared at Millie as she conducted her physical exam of Damien. Another new day and still no changes in his condition. Michael’s remained the same as well. Neither showed signs of waking from their coma. Millie commented that both of their body temperatures remained low, dipping a fraction of a degree lower than yesterday. The change baffled Millie. She suggested adding an additional blanket. She also proposed adding medical equipment to monitor vital signs and provide nutrients to both patients while their conditions remained unchanged.
Gone: A Shadow Slayers Story (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 3) Page 20