by Sharon Booth
'That's the central heating,' I said. 'These radiators, see,' I added, reaching over and tapping the one nearest to me.
He stood and walked over to it.
'Careful,' I said. 'It's hot.'
Gingerly, he touched it with his fingers. 'It is hot,' he said. 'Is this magic?'
'Sort of,' I said, smiling.
He shook his head. 'And why,' he asked suddenly, 'are there trees in this place?' He frowned, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. 'There was a tree in your home last night. Why would you have trees indoors? And those lights are strange. They are not candles yet they shine more brightly than any flame I have seen.'
'They're fairy lights,' I explained. 'And the trees are Christmas trees. People have been bringing those indoors for over a century now. It's an extension of the holly and mistletoe and other greenery people in your day used to celebrate the season.'
He nodded slowly. 'I see Christmas is still being celebrated. That's good to know. For a long time when I was young, 'twas forbidden to make merry at Christmas. They considered it ungodly to feast and drink on such a holy day. I remember, as a child, we had to fast and spend the day in contemplation. 'Twas not my favourite day,' he added, a twinkle in his eye.
'You remember?'
He raised an eyebrow. 'You are right. It seems I recall more and more with each passing hour. This is good news, Celeste.'
I thought about Jennet and tried to be noble. He would remember her at some point, and he deserved to remember her. They had been in love, and even though she was long gone, those memories belonged to him. I had no right to wish he would never recover them.
'You should finish your breakfast before it gets cold,' I told him, wanting to change the subject.
He sat down and did as I said, his face revealing his deep suspicion of hash browns. It seemed, however, that they met with his approval, and he cleared his plate within minutes. I tried not to think about the gusto with which he scoffed the bacon, sausages and black pudding and instead poured him a cup of tea, realising what Bob had meant when I noticed the little tag attached to the string on the teabags.
'Have you had tea before?' I asked, not entirely sure whether it was around much in the seventeenth century.
He wrinkled his nose. 'I have. I cannot pretend to be fond of it. I prefer ale, though 'tis very popular at court and with ladies who wish to emulate our queen, who is particularly partial to it.'
'Try this,' I coaxed. 'It may surprise you.'
He looked doubtful but drank dutifully from the cup. ''Tis good tea,' he said, sounding surprised. 'From where did you obtain it?'
I laughed. 'Bob has very kindly given us Yorkshire Tea. You can't beat it.'
'Yorkshire Tea?'
'It's a long story, but basically—'I broke off, my head turning in alarm as I heard a commotion outside the dining room.
'You will let me see her! I insist!'
'Really? And what are you going to do about it if I refuse, eh? Turn me into a mouse? I don't think so, do you?'
'Oh, heck,' I muttered.
We had visitors. Father and Aurora had arrived.
Chapter Six
Blaise leapt to his feet. 'Who is it? Does someone wish us harm?'
'No, it's okay, honestly. That's my father.'
'Maybe he won't turn you into a mouse,' I heard Aurora say, 'but if you don't let us in there, I shall report you to my father, and believe me, I can wrap him around my little finger. You'll wish I had turned you into a mouse.'
I rolled my eyes. I knew for a fact Zephyr wouldn't do anything just because Aurora asked him to. She was such a fibber. But a sweet one.
The door flew open and my father and Aurora marched in. Well, I say marched. Aurora more-or-less rolled in, bless her. Behind them Bob looked thoroughly fed-up.
'You're not supposed to be in here! It's interfering with vital witnesses, that's what it is. Your dad will be furious.'
'Yes, with you,' Aurora said. She beamed at me. 'Celeste! You're all right then? Gosh, is that toast? May I?'
'Help yourself,' I said, closing my eyes as Father pulled me into a hug.
He held me tightly, then backed away to look at me. 'You're okay? No one's hurt you?'
'Of course no one's hurt her,' Bob said, sounding outraged at the very idea. 'What do you think we are? I tell you what, if anyone's been harmed by all this, it's me. Luxury rooms those two had last night, and a full English breakfast this morning. And do you think Zephyr's agreed to expenses yet? Has he heck! Not a word. I'm trying to run a business here, you know.'
Aurora gave him a sympathetic look. 'How awful for you. I'll have a word with Father,' she promised, her cheeks bulging with toast.
He slumped in relief. 'Oh, would you? That'd be ever so good of you.'
'Think nothing of it,' she said. 'Now, would you mind if we had a chat with Celeste and — er — Blaise?' she finished, giving him an enquiring look.
Blaise nodded, evidently too surprised to reply.
Bob sighed. 'I suppose so. Promise you won't do anything stupid?'
'Guide's honour,' she said.
He seemed to think that was a binding oath, as he left the dining room and closed the doors behind him.
We all looked at each other.
'Well!' Aurora said, plonking herself down on a chair. 'What a jolly jape this is!'
'I was worried sick,' Father told me. 'And your poor mother is beside herself. Sirius popped over early this morning to tell us what had happened. It horrified us.'
'Yes, Christmas Day and no turkey dinner!' Aurora sighed. 'Star can't bring herself to cook, poor darling, and she had it all planned, too. Anyway, as soon as they release you, you're to pop back to Castle Lodge and your mother will provide a real feast for us all. Golly,' she added, 'I hope they don't keep you waiting much longer. I'm ravenous.'
'You shouldn't be eating that,' Father reproached her gently. 'You've had stomach-ache all morning.'
Aurora blushed. 'I got rather carried away with our Christmas Eve supper last night. I can't help it! I've got a taste for pickled gherkins with cheese on toast. What can I say?'
'After the curry buffet and the false labour?' I couldn't believe she'd gone home and eaten supper. That was what I called determination.
Father shook his head. Then he seemed to remember who it was sitting in front of him.
'Blaise St Clair,' he said, holding out his hand to Blaise. 'I can't believe it! This is a great honour, sir.'
Blaise looked at the outstretched hand, then hesitantly clasped it. ''Tis an honour to meet the father of Celeste St Clair,' he said.
'Yes, well, Celeste is a great witch all right, and a lovely girl,' Father told him. 'Mind you, I've got to admit I was taken aback when I found out what she'd done. I mean, that takes real power. She gets it from my side.' He looked sheepishly at Blaise. 'Our side, that is.'
'Have they said what they will do about it all?' Aurora asked, reaching over and grabbing a Quorn sausage from my plate. 'Are you prisoners indefinitely? Have they said when they'll allow you to go? What are they going to do with Blaise?'
'We know nothing,' I admitted. 'The thing is — the thing is, it may have been my fault.'
'Not all your fault,' Blaise insisted. He turned to my father. 'Your daughter was laying flowers at my shrine and thinking of me at the exact moment I was in the water, praying for salvation. The tall man, the one with grey hair—'
'My father,' Aurora managed, with a mouthful of sausage.
'And the elderly lady,' Blaise continued, 'believe these two events, occurring as they did at the same moment three hundred and fifty years apart, were enough to cause me to travel forward in time.'
'Are you serious?' Father shook his head. 'That takes unbelievable power.'
'I have great power,' Blaise assured him, without a trace of modesty. 'It seems Celeste is almost my equal in that respect.'
I thought about what Aveta had told me, and my heart sank. It would devastate Blaise when he reali
sed he'd lost his powers.
'So, what happens now?' Father said. 'You're supposed to just sit and wait?'
'That's about the gist of it,' I said.
'Oh, this is ridiculous.' Aurora, having run out of food since she'd polished off my Quorn sausage and toast, got clumsily to her feet. 'Come on, let's get out of here.'
'We can't!' I said, somewhat alarmed. 'Who knows what punishment they'll heap on us if we do a runner.'
'What is a runner?' Blaise queried.
'You know,' Aurora said. 'If you skedaddle, make a bolt for it.' She sighed. 'Escape.'
Blaise straightened. 'Never,' he said firmly. 'I gave my word.'
'Gosh,' Aurora breathed, 'how jolly noble.'
Wasn't he just? I almost sighed but forced myself to stay focused. 'We promised,' I said. 'We'll have to wait.'
'No, you won't,' she said. 'Let's find Father. Enough's enough, and this has quite ruined Christmas morning. I'm sure Titania will be spitting feathers and Father's probably as desperate to get home as you are. Let's hurry him along, shall we?'
'But Aurora—'
'Don't waste your breath,' Father advised, slipping an arm around my shoulders. 'You know how stubborn she can be, especially when there's food at stake. She's dying to get back to Castle Lodge. We may as well go along with her.'
Blaise looked unconvinced. 'Is this wise, Celeste?' he asked me softly as we headed towards the door. 'I don't wish to cause more trouble, and this act of rebellion may have dire consequences for both of us.'
'I'm sure it will be fine,' I said. 'After all, we're not escaping, are we? We're going straight back to see the High Council members. Into the lion's den, so to speak.'
'Lion's den?'
'Figure of speech,' Father said. 'It must be so tiresome for you, not understanding what we say half the time.'
'So much has changed,' Blaise admitted.
'Where are you going?' Bob demanded, as Aurora threw open the door of the dining room and he saw us following her. 'You can't leave this room. I told you!' He gave her a stern look. 'You said guide's honour. You gave me your word.'
'I promised we wouldn't do anything stupid, and this is not stupid,' Aurora said calmly. 'We need to see Father and tell him to get a move on. They must have reached a conclusion by now, surely?'
'I wouldn't bet on it,' Bob said, sounding gloomy. 'They were arguing like mad when I left them. Proper to-do going on in there. I was glad when they asked me to fetch them coffees. That was half an hour ago. I can't bring myself to go back.'
'You've done a splendid job,' Aurora assured him. 'I shall make sure Father gives you full expenses.'
'That's right kind of you,' he told her, standing aside to let us all pass. 'Oh well, I suppose, since you are his daughter.'
As we followed Aurora down the hotel corridor, Blaise whispered to me, 'I'm confused, Celeste. This lady is your father's wife and is clearly with child, yet I understood it was your mother I met last night.'
'That's right,' I whispered back.
'Then—' he frowned, 'am I to understand your mother is, or was, your father's mistress?'
'Oh gosh!' I burst out laughing. 'No, no. Mother and Father divorced years ago. Aurora is Father's second wife.'
He looked shocked. 'And they permit this?'
I sighed. 'It's not only permitted, it's pretty common. But, surely, you know about divorce? What about Henry the Eighth? He divorced two of his wives.'
'What a king does has little bearing on the lives of his people,' Blaise said, sounding appalled. 'Divorce is forbidden. For a man to take a second wife while his first wife still lives ...' He shook his head, disapproving. 'When a man marries, it should be forever. I cannot say I approve of this change in the law.'
'Yes, well,' I murmured, 'we haven't got time to go into the rights and wrongs of that now, I'm afraid.' My spirits sank. Jennet would always be his as far as he was concerned. They may not have married, but he'd intended to marry her, and he loved her. He would do everything in his power to get back to her as soon as possible, and what would that achieve?
Aurora had waddled her way to the function room, and I watched, rather awestruck, as she threw the doors open and entered the room as if she had every right to be there.
The four members of the High Council got to their feet immediately, and I saw the look of horror on Zephyr's face as he saw his daughter, followed by the three of us, heading defiantly toward him, a sheepish-looking Bob trailing in our wake.
'What is this?' he demanded. 'This is a private meeting. How dare you barge in here?'
'Oh, Father, come on,' Aurora said. 'It's Christmas Day and we all have places to be. How long does it take to say, okay, someone made a giant boo-boo, but all's forgiven so a merry Christmas to you all? Ooh!' Her eyes lit up. 'Are those mince pies?'
'You shouldn't intrude on a meeting of the High Council,' Aveta reproached her.
'She's got a point though,' Kendrew said. 'We're going round in circles here, Zephyr.'
'True enough,' Amlodd agreed. 'Honestly, there's only so many mince pies I can stomach.'
Zephyr sighed. 'You'd better all take a seat,' he said. 'Aurora, you'd better take two.'
'Rude,' Aurora said cheerfully. She sat down and waved a half-eaten mince pie in the air. 'So, what's the conclusion?'
'If I may address the court,' Blaise said politely, 'I wish only to return to my own time. I believe, by doing so, I will recover my memories, and I want nothing more than to recall who I am and what happened to me that night.'
'But you'd end up back in the Hrafn,' I gasped. 'And we wouldn't be there to save you! You could drown!'
'Not to mention, if you made it out of there, you might get a nasty shock when you see who's waiting for you,' Father muttered.
Blaise narrowed his eyes. 'I see you are all hiding facts from me. You are aware of the true reason I was in the river. I demand you tell me now.'
'I don't think that's such a good idea, petal,' Aurora said kindly. 'It could come as an awful shock to you and—' She winced and shifted on her seat. I think you should let the memories come back to you gradually.'
'But I need to know!' Blaise burst out. He bowed his head to Aurora. 'Forgive me, madam. I do not wish to be discourteous to you. My thoughts are confused and I'm eager to discover the truth about myself.'
'Golly gosh,' Aurora said. 'What a gent.' She winced again. 'Maybe I should stop eating for now,' she said, pushing the plate back under her father's nose. 'I rather think last night's gherkins are making themselves felt.'
Zephyr's lip curled.
Aveta placed both hands on the table and stood. 'I think you misunderstand, Mr St Clair,' she addressed Blaise. 'I think you all misunderstand, including my fellow members of the Council. The only question still to answer is whether we should punish Celeste for meddling with time. There is no question at all that Blaise St Clair must remain here in the twenty-first century. He cannot and must not return to 1669 and that is final.'
'I rather think that's for us all to decide,' Zephyr corrected her. 'There are protocols, you know.'
'I think this is about far more than protocols,' she said firmly. 'You know as well as I do what the repercussions would be.'
Blaise staggered, his face pale. 'But — but I must protest! I don't belong here.'
'Indeed, you do not,' Aveta said grimly. 'Nevertheless, here is where you find yourself and here you must stay.'
Poor Blaise. Even though it thrilled me to have him with me, I couldn't bear to see the look of anguish on his face.
'Are you sure?' Father asked. 'It seems ever so harsh on the poor chap.'
'This is not about punishing him, Raiden,' Zephyr said. 'Think about it. The history books show Blaise St Clair died on 24th December 1669. Castle Clair's entire timeline since that moment has wrapped itself around that one fact. A whole industry has sprung up around his death. And we know what happened in his own time after he vanished. If we send him back to that moment in 1669, time will be rewritt
en. He may survive. Castle Clair's future would be completely different.'
'I care nothing for that!' Blaise cried. 'I deserve to have my chance. I should be in my own time and I will face whatever fate fortune deals me. 'Tis the right of every man to live his own life and you cannot take that from me.'
'Hmm.' Father rubbed his chin. 'This is all very awkward.'
Blaise spun round to face him. 'But you yourself said this was unjust!'
'I did, sir, I did, and it's not. But the thing is ...'
'The thing is,' Zephyr said, 'by returning to your own time, you may change the course of the future. A future that includes the people who saved your life last night.'
Blaise looked bewildered. 'I do not understand.'
'What he means,' I said wretchedly, 'is that if you go back to your own time, there's a chance my family and I will cease to exist.'
He slumped back into his chair. 'You may cease to exist?'
'A very good chance of that actually,' Father admitted. 'Which, from our point of view, is pretty dire.'
'It's more complicated even than that,' Aveta said. 'Because if you modern-day St Clairs cease to exist as Blaise's return changes the timeline, then Celeste was never here to pull Blaise through time. Which means none of us would be sitting here today having this debate at all.'
'Sounds good to me,' Kendrew muttered.
'But if Raiden didn't exist, I wouldn't be married to him and I wouldn't be expecting this little one,' Aurora wailed, rubbing her stomach.
'You're not making this an easy decision,' Zephyr growled.
'Father! Be serious,' she reproached him.
He sighed. 'I am being serious. The fact of the matter is this is one big headache and we're getting nowhere fast. Aveta, if we send Blaise back to his own time then the St Clairs won't be here to pull him through the centuries to land here, right?'
She bowed her head.
'Well,' he intoned, 'perhaps that's what we should do, despite the—'
'However,' Aveta boomed before Zephyr could condemn my family and me to oblivion, 'the fact is Celeste did pull him through the centuries. It happened. It's a fact. And sending him back undoes that fact, which is a contradiction.'
