Despite Celine’s reassurances, he worried for his family. He was no stranger to the battle between good and evil, but he was familiar with the concept of self-preservation. Some battles were merely beyond his abilities. This may prove to be one of them. Celine was a strong ally, as long as she remained an ally. Her words rang in his head. Could she be trusted? Would the allure of the Duke’s power sway her? That remained to be seen.
He hurried home, anxious to get on with his journey. The next two days would prove tedious and be filled with apprehension. He prayed he could trust Celine. Otherwise, he and his family may be doomed.
Marcus entered Celine’s bedroom to a flurry of activity. Trunks were strewn about the room, and articles of clothing lay across the bed.
“Celine? What is the meaning of this?” he questioned.
“Alexander Buckley called this afternoon to invite us to stay at his country home. It is meant as a thank you for arranging the invitation for his cousins to Lord Blackburn’s ball,” she informed him, holding up two shawls, one in each hand. “This one,” she said to the maid who hurried to pack it.
“And you accepted?”
“Yes,” she answered, glancing at him. “We leave the day after next.”
“You did not consider it wise to discuss this with me before accepting the invitation?” Marcus queried, annoyance creeping into his voice.
“No, I did not. He was quite earnest, and I did not see the harm in it. Truthfully, I pitied him and could not find it in my heart to decline.”
“I understand this is his second call. He called upon you yesterday as well?”
“Yes,” Celine answered without skipping a beat, “he called yesterday to ask if I was keen on the countryside. I told him I find it quite relaxing. He returned this afternoon to extend the invitation.”
“Do you not find his sudden interest odd?”
“No, I do not.” She glanced to him. “You could use a few days in the country, away from your work. You must make time to relax, Marcus.”
“You attempt to draw my attention from the subject at hand and flatter me into agreeing.”
“I do not,” she answered, returning to her packing. “I am stating a fact. Your machinations are quite taxing, no doubt, dear. If you are unable to depart in two days’ time, I shall travel ahead, and you may follow.”
“You will do no such thing, Celine!”
“Marcus, I will not argue about this. I have already accepted the invitation.”
“Celine...” he protested.
“Marcus, please,” she interrupted him. “I do not wish to argue. If you do not find the invitation acceptable, I shall make your excuses for you when I arrive. However, I will carry on with the planned journey. I do not wish to appear rude.” The maid approached with a gown. “No, no, Winston, that is most unsuitable. It is a country estate, not Buckingham Palace!” The girl departed with the dress to select something more suitable, murmuring her apologies. “Please remember a warm capelet, there could be snow!” Celine shouted after her.
“I find this most unacceptable, Celine,” Marcus said once they were alone.
“Do you, really, husband? I am unsure what you envisage as an appropriate response, however, I suggest you adjust your expectations.”
“I will not be spoken to in this manner, Celine,” he warned her.
“And I will not be treated as a child. You are displeased, I understand. The invitation is below your normal standard. However, I expect the trip to be most interesting.” She approached him, caressing his face with her hand. “Try to see the positive in it, dear.”
He sighed. “I shall follow you in three days hence. Please in the future do not make a habit of accepting such invitations without first discussing it with me. Buckley is after something, Celine. I warn you to be wary of him.”
“Of course, dear,” Celine answered, returning to her packing. “Though I see nothing malevolent in his intentions.”
“You are too trusting, Celine. This is why you should consult with me before consenting to requests.”
Celine stopped for a moment, turning to face him. “You are quite right, my dear. I am far too trusting. A fact I’ve grown to learn of late, more and more with each passing day.”
He offered her a slight smile before departing from the room. Celine returned to her packing.
Present day, Bucksville
“Absolutely not! No way, no how, over my dead body!” Gray shouted.
Celine stood near the fireplace; arms crossed. “We have little choice,” she responded.
“We’ll find another way,” Gray argued.
“What way, Gray?” Celine countered.
“I don’t care for the idea either. However, Celine makes an excellent point,” Alexander interjected. “We have no information about Alterra.”
“Then we’ll find information. We’ll go to Germany if we must. Anything except…”
“We don’t have time, Gray,” Celine responded. “Damien and Michael are dying. If we waste time searching for information about Alterra and how to retrieve someone from there, they could die.”
Gray crossed his arms, staring out the window. “There’s got to be another way.”
“There isn’t,” Celine refuted. “Not that we have time for, anyway.”
Gray glanced to Alexander and Millie. “You’ve never come across any information about Alterra?” he questioned Alexander.
“I’ve never heard the term until today. I’ve consulted all my references. I’ve found one obscure reference. But enough knowledge to enter and rescue someone from this realm? No, I have nothing to offer. I’m sorry, Gray. If it helps, I hate this plan as much as you do.”
“It doesn’t. What about medically? Is there anything we can do to prolong their lives while we search for information?”
Millie shook her head. “I’m sorry, Gray. There is nothing I can do.”
“How long do we have?” Gray asked.
“I’m not one hundred percent certain, but I’d say days.”
Celine shook her head after Millie delivered the grim news. “They’re dying, Gray. We have no choice.”
“There must be another choice!” Gray argued, resuming his staring out the window.
“What? Tell me? Because if you can’t tell me right now, it’s not an option. We can’t waste any more time. We don’t have the time to waste exploring options! You heard Millie. We have days!”
Gray refused to answer. Celine continued, “When I was missing, Damien risked his life to save me. I must do the same for him.”
“You can’t do this, Celine,” Gray argued.
“I must!” Celine insisted.
“Do you imagine the plan will work?” Alexander asked.
“Yes,” Celine replied.
“We have no assurance this will work. We could end up worse off than we are now,” Gray countered.
“I can’t live with myself if Damien dies, Gray. Or Michael. We must try. We must take the chance.”
“You’re playing with fire, Celine.”
Celine sighed. “I understand how you feel. But I will not gamble with Damien’s life.”
“You’re already gambling.”
“I agree with you, Gray,” Alexander interjected. “It is a huge gamble. However, Celine makes a good point. Damien and Michael WILL die if we do nothing.”
“I don’t propose we do nothing.”
“But we don’t have time, Gray,” Millie replied. “Your plan would be acceptable if those men had weeks or months to live.”
“Millie is correct. The amount of time it would take us to track down and assimilate information far outreaches the amount of time they can survive,” Alexander assessed.
“Damn it,” Gray muttered through clenched teeth.
“For the record, it’s not my favorite plan either. But I don’t see another choice,” Celine stated.
“So, that’s it then,” Gray grumbled.
“I’m sorry, Gray,” Celine responded, staring at him, concern on he
r face.
“It’s okay, Celine. I understand. I realize what we must do. I don’t like it. I hate it, in fact, but I accept that it must be done. We’re all in agreement then?”
Alexander and Millie nodded.
“Well,” Celine answered, taking a deep breath. “then that’s it. We’re all in agreement. I know what I must do. I must bring back Marcus Northcott.”
Chapter 21
1812, London
Michael eyed the carriage outside the house through the window. “How long is this ride again?”
“Better part of the day,” Gray answered him.
Michael groaned. Gray glanced to him, then Damien. “He hates carriage rides,” Damien informed Gray.
Gray furrowed his brow in confusion. “Hates carriage rides? They are quite convenient and comfortable. Much more so than riding.”
Michael chortled, finding the comment comical. “Are we sure we can’t do this here? Celine’s already in London!”
“If we want her husband and his associates breathing down our necks the entire time, listening at the doors, questioning our sudden interest in paying her calls or the opposite, then yes!” Gray countered.
Michael glanced out of the window again, watching the last of the trunks being loaded onto the carriage. He groaned as he realized they would soon leave.
The coachmen knocked at the front door, telling Gray everything was prepared. “We are ready,” Gray informed them, donning his cloak. Michael and Damien followed suit and exited the house. Michael scowled at the carriage as they approached.
“Come on, buddy, it won’t be that bad. It has to be better than Martinique twenty years ago,” Damien said, passing him and climbing into the carriage.
Michael climbed in behind him. “I still fail to understand on the most epic of levels how you enjoy this.”
Gray joined them, closing the door behind him. He tapped on the window behind him and the coachmen cracked his whip, setting the carriage in motion. The carriage lurched forward, bouncing them around as they began their journey down the cobblestone street.
“Nope,” Michael said with a shake of his head.
“What?” Damien questioned.
“This is no better than Martinique twenty years ago.”
Damien chuckled at him. “Don’t worry, buddy. With any luck, this will all be over soon, and we’ll be home.”
“I will never take my car for granted again,” Michael promised, staring out the window as they turned onto another street. Gray observed the exchange, oblivious to some of what they spoke about. Despite some of their explanations, he failed to understand the full scope of their world. Damien assured him one day he would.
They arrived at the Buckley estate just before dinner. Alexander greeted them as their carriage slowed to a stop. Damien climbed from the carriage behind Gray and Michael. He glanced up at the house. “Oh, wow!” he exclaimed.
“Yeah, weird, right?” Michael said.
“What is?” Alexander inquired.
“It’s just like your house in Maine!” Damien replied.
Alexander stared at him, an odd expression on his face. “I have no house in Maine.”
Michael and Damien glanced at each other. “You do where we’re from. Well, technically, it’s in Massachusetts right now. Maine isn’t a state until 1820,” Damien responded. “Oh, well, nothing else is the same. Why should that be?”
“Well, shall we? Our meal should almost be prepared,” Alexander replied, motioning toward the front door.
“Yes, I’m starving,” Damien responded.
“You are in luck,” Alexander replied. “There is plenty of food prepared. We’ll go straight to the dining room if that’s all right.”
“Okay by me,” Damien responded. Michael nodded in agreement.
As they walked to the dining room, a path familiar to both Michael and Damien since the route was identical to the one at Alexander’s home in Maine, Gray asked Alexander about his conversation with Celine. “How did your conversation with Celine unfold? When will she arrive?”
“She arrives tomorrow. I must warn everyone, she expects Duke Northcott to travel with her.”
Shock crossed Gray’s face and dismay settled onto the faces of Michael and Damien. “Are you joking?” Damien asked after a moment.
“I’m afraid not,” Alexander said as they sat down for their meal.
“This is unexpected. I thought the point was for her to be unencumbered,” Gray replied. “Perhaps we should reconsider.”
“I experienced similar misgivings. Michael, Damien,” Alexander responded, “does the Celine in your world possess the ability to read minds?”
Michael and Damien glanced at each other. Damien shook his head. “No. Not that I’m aware of,” Damien answered.
“Why?” Michael asked, eyeing the dirty water in his water goblet, then opting to drink the wine instead.
“As I mentioned, I experienced similar reservations after Celine revealed the information about Duke Northcott. She was quick to assure me that she could handle him.”
“I’m not concerned about her handling him. I expected to be able to speak freely, wasn’t that the point of this?” Damien asked.
“I imagine we can speak more freely here than in either of our homes in London,” Alexander countered.
“You may not be concerned about her handling Duke Northcott, but I am. The man excels in supernatural powers. If he suspects our motivations are to persuade his wife to our side, he will not hesitate to unleash them on us,” Gray objected.
“Celine asserted she is equally talent and well-versed in his methods. She also mentioned his limitations. Although I confess, I am aware of none. She assured me we were in no danger.”
“No danger?” Gray balked. “Wonderful, as long as he does not convince her to remain loyal to him.”
“No way, not Celine,” Damien countered. “She’ll choose the side of good, not evil.”
“She’s been married to the man for twenty-six years. Time may mean loyalty runs deeper than we expect.”
“But she said…” Damien began.
“It doesn’t matter what she said,” Gray interrupted him. “She was in shock. When the shock passes, she could easily decide her husband is still worthy of her allegiance.”
“What happened to you and your ‘she’s lovely’ bit?” Michael questioned.
“She is,” Gray admitted, his voice turning wistful. He quickly strengthened it, adding, “she’s also powerful and dangerous. And there is no limit to what Marcus Northcott will do to keep control of his power. And hers.”
“Gentlemen, I realize this may not seem like much,” Alexander responded. “But she was adamant about her unchanging loyalty to us. She assured me not only would she allow no harm to come to any of us, but that she would not change her mind regarding where her loyalties lie.”
“It’s not her I’m worried about,” Gray confessed. “It’s him. Will she have the resilience to resist him?”
“She will,” Damien assured them.
“You seem confident,” Gray replied.
“We are,” Michael answered. “Where we come from, she’s done it for centuries.”
“Yet this Celine behaves so oddly you barely recognize her, so what assurance do we have?” Gray questioned.
Michael and Damien were silent for a moment. “None, I guess,” Damien responded. “But we have to try. And we have to trust Celine. She has never let us down before. Let’s hope this time is no different.”
“I agree with Damien,” Alexander chimed in. “Plus, I’m afraid we haven’t much choice. Short of refusing the Duke and Duchess when they arrive, the plan is set in motion.”
They finished their meal, making conversation that avoided discussing the upcoming visit. Nervous energy kept everyone awake well into the night. Celine would arrive tomorrow prior to dinner. Damien practiced what he would say to her. He must convince her. The doubts and trepidations expressed over dinner weighed on his mind. What i
f the new Celine, however she was created, didn’t respond like the old Celine? What if she didn’t pick good over evil? Would she remain loyal to Marcus Northcott? Were they walking into a trap designed to remove any obstacle from the Northcotts’ path? No, he wouldn’t believe that, he told himself. They would convince her. They must.
The next morning brought a cold, clear day. Michael and Damien spent the latter part of the morning taking in the grounds of the estate. Nervous anticipation for Celine’s arrival did not allow them to remain still.
As they trekked around the property, Michael questioned, “Is time standing still?”
“Sure seems like it,” Damien responded. “It’s been morning forever. Although perhaps that’s a good thing.”
“Yeah. I’m not thrilled with this plan either at the moment. She’s bringing the Duke with her? Why does this seem like a horrible, horrible idea now that it’s happening?”
“Because we assumed Celine was coming alone to learn the truth and then…” he paused. “I guess I don’t know what I assumed would happen after that. I never thought that far ahead. Gray’s right. She’s been married to the guy for almost thirty years. Is she just going to leave him?”
“Did people do that in the 1800s?” Michael queried.
“Maybe? I’m not sure,” Damien answered.
“Really? A historical fact you don’t know?” Michael joked.
Damien shook his head at him. “Very funny. I’m sure they did, actually. Henry the eighth did, multiple times.”
“How did I know you’d have a historical reference in the end?” Michael chuckled.
Damien laughed. “Because I’m me, that’s what I do.”
“Anyway, why is she bringing him with her? How did she consider that a good idea?”
“Perhaps she doesn’t have a choice,” Damien theorized. “It’s unusual for a woman to travel to someone’s house without her husband, particularly if it’s outside of her family.”
“So, then what are the chances she’s going to leave him, and this all corrects itself? If she’s bringing him for appearance’s sake, will she really leave him?”
Gone: A Shadow Slayers Story (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 3) Page 25