“Yeah, true. And she did even the score this time,” he admitted.
“Yeah, I heard that she blasted you!”
“She did, not that I blame her.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Hell yeah it hurt! It was like being electrocuted, stabbed and shot all at the same time.”
“Wow, that’s some ability!”
Michael chuckled. “Don’t remind me.”
Damien laughed, too. “It’s great to see you back to your old self.”
“It’s good to be back. Now, let’s get some sleep, form a plan to retrieve this painting and get the hell back to civilization.”
“Deal. See you in the morning!” Damien said, retiring to his own room.
Celine closed the doors to her suite behind her. “So that is the legendary Michael and Damien?” Gray uttered as she entered the room.
“Yes,” Celine answered. “They helped me that night. It’s wonderful to see them again. I didn’t think I ever would.”
“That may have been for the best,” Gray stated.
“Why?” Celine asked.
“Do you trust them, Celine? Completely?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Yes, I do. Do you not?”
“I do not.”
“Why, Gray? What has given you cause to distrust them?”
“The lack of information they’re willing to share.” Celine tilted her head, signaling for Gray to continue. “Consider the chain of events, Celine. They show up five years ago with a mysterious, unsigned note instructing you to trust no one but them, give them the book and send them on their way. Then they arrive here, just prior to the Duke’s imminent arrival. They don’t have the book but claim they delivered it to the appropriate person. And this time around, they desire the Abbott portrait. The portrait with the piece of your soul being painted into it. It’s a little too convenient.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“What if the appropriate person, the person they are doing all this for is the Duke himself?”
Celeste walked away, crossing her arms, considering the theory. “Marcus? They took the book from him only to give it back?”
“Perhaps.”
“And now they seek to gain the painting.”
“I’m not suggesting this is the truth, only one potential scenario. And I’m cautioning you about giving them your full trust.”
Celine pondered it a moment more. “I understand your concern, Gray.”
“I apologize, Celine. I realize how much you want to trust that they are friends. But I advise you to keep your head.”
“I will,” Celine promised. “But I ask a favor of you in return.”
“Anything, Celine.”
“Give them a chance. Perhaps they aren’t lying. Let’s not create enemies we may not have. We face a large enough adversary in Marcus.”
Gray smiled, taking her in his arms. “For you, my darling, I will try.”
Chapter 21
Despite the excitement, Damien slept well, falling asleep within minutes and staying asleep until morning dawned. He stretched, yawning as the sun crept through the window into his room. For a full moment, he forgot where he was, or rather, when he was. In a strange twist of fate, the butler of the house had placed him in the same room he lived in during his present time. The memory of where he was flooded back as he spied his period clothing draped over the chair.
A variety of feelings and thoughts inundated his mind. Relief washed over him first as he recalled his last conversation with Michael. Michael’s mood had flipped like a light switch when turned on or off. The reversal was amazing. He harbored none of the agitation or moodiness Damien had witnessed in the past few weeks. With Celeste’s influence no longer a factor, his best friend was back in fighting form.
And none too soon, Damien reflected, as his thoughts turned to the situation at hand. He needed Michael to be clear-headed in order to solve this mystery. He hadn’t convinced Celine to send them back to 1791 for them to come up with nothing. They must return with the painting. There was no room for error. He couldn’t let Celine down. He wouldn’t. While he realized this may not solve all the issues, he hoped the small contribution helped.
As he laid in bed pondering their next steps, a light knock sounded at the door. He leapt from his bed, pulling his clothes on and hurrying to the door. He assumed it was Michael, ready to start the day. He pulled the door open, still trying to tuck his shirt in. “Hey, come in. OH!” he exclaimed, startled. “Celine! I didn’t realize it was you, I assumed it was Michael. Just a sec.” He closed the door and finished dressing before opening it again and letting Celine in. “Sorry, come in,” he said, retrieving his jacket from the chair and pulling it on.
“Good morning,” Celine said, making her way into the room. “I brought you both some things I figured you could use.” She set a stack of clothing on his rumpled bed.
“Oh, thank you,” he answered. “I worried we would have to feign lost luggage again.”
Celine giggled at the joke, remembering their arrival to her father’s home five years ago. They had claimed their luggage had been lost in an unexplained accident and were forced to borrow her brother-in-law’s clothing for dinners. “If anyone asks,” Celine said, “Gray retrieved your trunks early this morning.”
“Understood,” Damien said as another knock sounded at the door. Damien opened the door to find Michael.
“Good morning, ready for life in the olden days?” he joked before noticing Celine. “Oh, Celine, ah, Mina, good morning.”
“Good morning, Michael. I dropped some clothes off for you.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s incredible,” Damien said, “your accent is fading!”
Celine smiled at him. “Do I sound American now?”
Damien laughed. “You’ve got a long way to go, but you sound more… well, yes, American.”
“My English has improved likewise. Although, Gray was quite impressed when we met that I already knew the word ‘prank.’”
The three shared a laugh, recalling Celine’s discovery of that word. “Will you both be coming to breakfast?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m famished,” Damien said.
“Same here,” Michael said. “Lead the way, Mina.”
On the way to breakfast, Damien and Michael used the opportunity to inquire about the household. They learned more about who lived in the house and on the estate and more general information. Within the household, besides Gray and Celine, now calling herself Mina, were Gray’s father and mother, Amos and Elizabeth. Gray’s older brother, Aiden, and his wife, Leigh, also lived in the house, although they were traveling at the moment. Gray’s cousin, Alexander, lived in the household as well while he awaited the completion of the new home he was building on the estate.
Following breakfast, Celine offered to show them around the estate. It was interesting to both Michael and Damien to see Alexander’s house in the process of being built. Having been in the house several times, Damien was stunned to see some of the components when they were brand new. His enthusiasm seemed to mask any familiarity he had with the estate, ensuring they gave little to nothing away about what the future held.
As they made their way around the property, Celine branched off on a path neither Damien nor Michael recalled being on before. When they inquired about where the path led, she informed them it led to a small cottage. The estate manager had lived there while the main house was being built before moving into the main house’s servant’s quarters. It was now being occupied by Benjamin Abbott. He used the cottage as his temporary residence and painting studio.
They approached the cottage. Celine knocked, but received no answer. She found the door unlocked and, opening it, she called in. She received no answer.
“Benjamin must not be home,” Celine said.
“Do you suppose he’d mind if we let ourselves in to take a peek at the painting?” Damien asked.
“I’d expect he would. Artists are notori
ously sensitive about people viewing their unfinished works.”
“How far along is he with the painting?” Michael inquired.
“Just over halfway according to his last progress report.”
“Hmm, is there any estimate on when he’ll finish?” Damien asked.
Celine paused a moment before answering. “I’m not aware of any estimate,” she answered. “Shall we return to the house? It must be close to the lunch hour.”
“Yes,” Michael agreed.
The trio traveled up the path leading to the house, making light conversation as they went. They enjoyed lunch with the family, doing their best to make conversation while subtly trying to gain information about the family.
After lunch, Michael and Damien excused themselves, stating they wanted to retire to their rooms for the afternoon, feigning exhaustion after their travel. Within minutes, Michael was standing in Damien’s room.
“So, what’s the plan?” he asked, entering the room.
“Same question I have for you,” Damien said. “I’m not planning to sit here and do nothing. Napping was just a ruse.”
“Yeah, I figured that out. Did you get the impression that Celine was hedging when she told us she didn’t know when the painting would be done?”
“I did. She has to have an idea, even if it’s not a specific date. When she said she had no idea, right away I sensed she was hiding the truth.”
“Do you suppose that painter leaves his doors unlocked all the time?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Damien stated. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“If you’re thinking we should go let ourselves in and check out that painting, then yes.”
“All right, let’s get moving.”
The men made their way out of the house, avoiding any prying eyes by using the back stairs and a little used servant’s entrance. Gaining distance from the house, they eased their pace.
“I hope I can remember the path she took,” Damien said as they entered a clove of trees.
“Yeah, I don’t remember ever being on that path before,” Michael agreed.
“Me either. I wonder if this cottage still exists in our time.”
“I’m not sure. I don’t recall ever seeing it, but that doesn’t mean anything.”
“At a brief glance the cottage looked nice.”
“It did, yeah,” Michael agreed.
“I wonder if they’d let you live there, assuming it’s still around.” Michael glanced at him. “What? It solves a ton of issues. You are on your own, but you’re not too far away.”
“Good point. Guess we can check on that when we get back.”
Damien smiled at him. “Yeah. Having a plan for when we get back makes me feel safer. Like we definitely will get back.”
“We’ll get back, buddy,” Michael said, clapping him on the back, “and we’ll have that painting, too.” Michael paused, then added, “And more comfortable clothes.”
“Okay, I’m with you on the clothes. As fascinating as I find time travel, I do not care for these clothes.”
Damien navigated to the correct path as they talked. The house appeared in front of them as the trees opened around it. Damien issued a smirk as he raised his eyebrows at Michael. Michael nodded back, acknowledging Damien’s navigational skills.
They approached the house, peering into the front window. No lights shone from within. “We might be in luck,” Michael said. “Doesn’t seem like anyone is home.”
“Let’s knock to be sure,” Damien ventured, rapping on the door.
There was no answer. He knocked again. Again, there was no answer. They glanced at each other. Damien shrugged and tried the door. It swung open with no resistance.
“Hello?” Michael called in. “Hello!” he shouted again when his first attempt garnered no response. Only silence responded.
“After you, good sir,” Damien said, bowing and motioning for Michael to enter the house.
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” Michael joked back.
They entered the living room. It was small but well-furnished with classic pieces. Doors led from the room in multiple directions. “You go left, I’ll go right,” Michael said. “Meet back here in five minutes.”
Damien nodded, disappearing through the doorway on the left. He found it led to a bedroom. He took a brief peek around, finding nothing of interest.
Damien returned to the living room. Not finding Michael, he approached the door across the room. He almost ran into Michael as he passed through the doorway. “I was just coming to find you,” Michael said. “Painting’s here.” He motioned to a large canvas which stood on an easel, its rear facing them.
“How finished is it?” Damien asked, circling the easel.
“I don’t know much about art, but it looks well over halfway finished to me.”
“Oh, yeah. It is,” Damien said, studying the painting. “Wow. It really is something.”
“Yes, it’s captivating. It’s like staring into her eyes. It’s like the painting is alive.”
“I didn’t realize when they said the painting contained a piece of her soul it would be so… literal. It IS like the painting is alive,” Damien said.
“Yeah. So, he’s got to finish the background yet, maybe a few other minor details. How long do you think finishing it will take him?”
Damien shrugged. “That I can’t answer. Perhaps we can figure it out by asking when he started painting, then use that information to determine how long it took him to get to this point.”
“Good plan. Celine might not be as guarded about the start date as she is about the end date.”
“That’s my hope,” Damien began, “if we can pinpoint…”
An unfamiliar voice interrupted the conversation. “Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in here?”
Both men glanced up. A sandy-haired man stood in the doorway, an irritated look on his face.
“Mr. Abbott, I presume?” Michael said, circling around the painting and extending his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Michael Carlyle, a distant cousin of your painting’s subject. This is my brother, Damien.”
Benjamin crossed his arms, refusing to take his hand. “I don’t care who are you. You have no business being in here. And no business viewing an unfinished work of mine without permission.”
“Sorry,” Damien joined them. “We couldn’t wait to see the painting. Mina told us about it. She mentioned it was unfinished, but we wanted to take a quick peek at it. Your work is amazing.”
“So, you took it upon yourself to enter my home and wander around?”
“We meant no harm,” Michael said. “We knocked, and the door opened. It must not have been latched. As my brother said, the painting is stunning. We couldn’t help but peek at it. Your talent is well known, and I can now state your work lives up to the reports.”
“An artist’s unfinished work should not be viewed,” Benjamin said, stalking to the painting and covering it again with a sheet. “Yet I appreciate your sentiments even if I preferred you to view it upon completion, not before.”
“Again, our sincerest apologies. We shan’t do it again. We’ll show ourselves out,” Michael said.
Benjamin gave the slightest of smiles. “Since you’ve inconvenienced me, could I request a favor?”
“At your service,” Michael said, turning to face him again.
“Please tell Mrs. Buckley I plan to have her painting completed in the next few days.”
Michael and Damien glanced at each other before Michael answered, “We will. The news will delight her.”
“Thank you and good day,” Benjamin said.
“Good day,” Michael and Damien said simultaneously. They turned and exited the house. They made their way along the path leading away from the house. When they had attained some distance from the house, Damien said, “That couldn’t have worked out better if I planned it. He will have that painting finished in the next few days!”
“Yeah
, we really lucked into that information,” Michael said. “We will have to keep an eye on him and that painting.”
“Perhaps we should ‘forget’ to tell Celine about the painting’s completion date,” Damien suggested.
“I agree and was considering the same. I’m sure she’ll find out, but it doesn’t have to be from us.”
“Good deal. Hey, kudos to you, nice use of the word ‘shan’t,’” Damien noted.
“Did you like that?” Michael chuckled. “I figured when in Rome and all that.”
“Yeah, if you can’t use the word ‘shan’t’ in 1791, when can you use it?” Damien laughed. “Well, if we’re not telling Celine about the painting, perhaps we should take a brief detour. Check out Alexander’s house again.”
“Sure, no rush to get back on my part!” Michael agreed. The two continued their walk, branching off on the path that led to Alexander’s construction site.
Gray and Celine entered the sitting room after lunch, having parted ways with Michael and Damien who planned to rest in their rooms. “Brandy, darling?” Gray asked her as he poured one for himself.
“No, thank you,” Celine answered, sitting down on the loveseat.
“Something troubling you?” Gray asked, sitting next to her.
“I worry about Michael and Damien with the Duke’s impending arrival. I realize you don’t trust them, Gray, but if you’re wrong, his arrival puts them in grave danger.”
“They made no mention that they planned to leave when you toured the grounds this morning?”
“No, none,” Celine answered, wringing her hands.
“Darling,” Gray said, taking her hands in his, “they are not your responsibility. You’ve told them the risks, but you cannot force them to go.”
“No, I cannot. Even if I tried, I don’t think they would go.” She sighed. “They seemed intent on protecting that painting.”
“Protecting it or taking it?”
“They maintain by taking it they would be protecting it,” Celine answered.
“Have they given you any other information about why they want it? More than what they said last night?”
Stolen Portrait Stolen Soul: A Shadow Slayers Story (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 2) Page 19
