by C. J. Archer
"We have discussed his case," the woman's voice cut in, "and have decided that he has completed enough tasks and performed a valuable service. Since we promised him his freedom, if he wished it and proved himself worthy, we will allow him to move on, despite his two transgressions."
"No, you're not listening!" Hands on hips, I spun round, trying to pinpoint where that voice was coming from. "I don't want him to move on to his afterlife yet. I want him to come back and live with me on the human realm. As a living, breathing human," I clarified.
"Who would want that?"
"I do."
"As do I," came Quin's voice.
I smiled. My heart lifted. Did his agreement mean he thought we had a chance of success? I hoped so. "Well?" I prompted.
"We do not allow such a thing," the administrator said.
"You do not allow such a thing yet. Just because it has never been done before doesn't mean it cannot be done."
"That is no reason to make something so."
My heart did a flip in my chest. She hadn't said no that time. "I know it's possible. The details are in the book, and Gilbert de Mordaunt did it. He lived heartily on our realm after freeing himself from here."
"He escaped. And he may have lived well and long on your realm, but he did not die well. We had to wait to punish him, but we did it eventually. Upon his death, his soul went to the dark place known to you as Hell."
"Oh." We had come so close to condemning Quin to the same fate without realizing it.
"I told you that you saved me by not giving me the book that first time," Quin said.
I almost smiled at that. "Yes, but I almost sent you to Hell this time. I came for the book," I told the administrators. I hoped my honesty would go some way to swaying them to my thinking. "So…will you grant him a new life anyway? Without condemnation at the end of it? As you said, he has performed a valuable service for you over a long time. He deserves to come back."
"He deserves rest, in the afterlife."
Very well. It was time to tell them what I really thought, without holding back. I crossed my fingers and prayed it didn't backfire. "He deserves to have a chance at living. The chance you robbed him of."
A sharp intake of breath echoed through the darkness. Quin's? The administrator's?
"Quin only lost his life as a result of the your mistake."
"Explain," the voice snapped.
I swallowed and forged on. I'd come too far to back down now. "What he did to his brother wasn't his fault. It wasn't murder. Guy gave up. He wanted Quin to end his life and put him out of his misery. Guy felt guilt for his affair with Quin's wife, and felt he deserved to die. Quin, filled with rage, fought with him on the battlefield but did not wish to kill him. Sadly, Guy had other ideas. He essentially laid down his sword at the worst possible moment."
There was more silence, and this time it seemed to stretch on forever. I was about to call out to Quin to see if he was still there and had heard me, when the administrator spoke.
"If that was so, and Quintin was not to blame, why didn't he ask us to reconsider our judgment? We are not unreasonable. If he did not murder his brother, we could have sent him to his afterlife immediately."
"He blamed himself. He didn't want to move on. He felt he deserved this place, this endless punishment. Until relatively recently, anyway."
"We saw the gray stain on his soul upon his death."
"Gray stain?"
"A black, rotten soul is sent to the dark place by the waiting area administrators. A gray, uncertain one comes here. If Quintin felt he had murdered his kinsman, it would explain the color, even if he were indeed innocent."
"He did feel guilt. He hated himself for killing his own brother. He welcomed your punishments because he felt he deserved them."
"Perhaps."
I bit my tongue. She was being unreasonable, but I wouldn't say it out loud.
"You claim it was our mistake that resulted in his death," she went on. "But you have not explained."
"Gilbert de Mordaunt escaped from here and lived a normal life on the human realm. He had children, and his children had children, and so on, until Edward de Mordaunt was born. Being part demon, he shifted shape into Quin's wife's form. He then used that form to seduce Guy St. Clair, and begin the chain of events that led to both Guy's and Quin's demise. If Gilbert had not escaped from here in the first place…"
"You blame us for his treachery?" The voice sounded utterly surprised. By my accusation or my audacity?
"He learned how to get out somehow, somewhere. Or perhaps a door was left open…" I winced at my own pathetic attempt at a joke.
The administrator snorted. "There are no doors in Purgatory."
"I wasn't being literal."
"Enough! You dare to come in here and make light of your request? Of us?"
"No!" Hell. Think, Cara, think. "Please. Whatever mistake led to Gilbert de Mordaunt's escape cannot be undone. Guy St. Clair has long ago moved on to his afterlife, but you can atone by giving Quin his life back."
"We do not need to atone."
I cleared my throat. "My apologies. But what I say is not wrong. Gilbert escaped from here and is ultimately responsible for Quin's death, his guilt, and his long presence here. Please, look into your hearts and be compassionate. Release him to me."
"We do not possess hearts."
I drew in a deep breath. Was I imagining it, or did she sound less angry, and almost…resigned? "Quin has learned much over the centuries. He's learned not to blame himself anymore, or to blame his wife either. If he hadn't, he would never have allowed himself to fall in love with me. He would never have let anyone into his heart again."
"This is a truth. You are a willful, clever woman with the power to rip out his heart if you chose. Yet he trusts you, where for so long he could not trust any woman. Or human."
"That proves it! He's a better person. A better human now."
Another long silence which did nothing to mend my shredded nerves.
"Are you still there? Quin?"
"I'm here," he said gently. "I love you, Cara. With all my heart and soul."
I smiled as tears slipped down my cheeks. "I love you too. No matter what, and no matter where you are. There will never be anyone else for me but you."
I heard his raggedly drawn-in breath, then even that stopped. The silence thickened around me, cloying and hot. I clasped my hands over my stomach. I needed to hold onto something, but there was nothing within reach.
"We have made our decision," came the silky voice.
I gripped my own hands harder and shut my eyes to stem the tears. If they said no, would they let me say goodbye to Quin? Or would I be sent back without even a moment in which to think?
"Quintin will return to the human realm with you. He will become mortal again."
I'm not ashamed to admit that I squealed like a little girl. And then I cried like one too. I couldn't stop myself. I was full of relief and happiness, far too much to be contained, and it spilled out of me in the form of tears and spluttered laughter.
"Thank you," I choked out. "Thank you, your…highnesses."
A pair of arms circled me, pinning me against a hard, warm chest. I recognized Quin's scent and shape, and the lips that crashed into mine were wonderfully familiar. I clasped the back of his head, not wanting him to break the searing, delicious kiss. It stole my breath, sent a jolt through my heart, and swamped me with so many emotions that I felt like I was drowning in them.
I relished every moment, not wanting to part. Never wanting to part again. We didn't have to now. There would be no more goodbyes, only a lifetime of good mornings and these kisses.
The kiss consumed so much of me that I was only distantly aware of the breeze and motion. Suddenly the darkness lifted, and we tumbled to the grass together, still clutching one another.
We broke the kiss to investigate our surroundings. I laughed. We lay on the dewy grass in the Frakingham Abbey ruins. The pink sky in the east heralded
dawn and what promised to be a sunny day.
I tried to sit up, but Quin gently rolled me onto my side instead and pinned my legs with one of his. He kissed me again, gentler this time. I stroked his back and shoulders, relishing the magnificent man claiming me for all to see.
Finally he sat up and helped me to sit too. He tucked my hair behind my ear and stroked my face, skirting the bruise, down to my chin.
"I shouldn't have doubted you, Cara."
"Why not? I doubted myself."
"Nevertheless, without your persistence—"
I pressed my lips to his, silencing him. "Let's not think about it. We are here, together, and our lives will be long and full."
He kissed my nose, my eyelids. "You are quite the brave little warrior."
"I am, aren't I?" I grinned and he laughed.
"I cannot call you that in public, however."
"True. What about partner?"
He forked an eyebrow. "Partner?"
"For the business endeavor we'll start together. You'll be the public face of our private inquiry business, specializing in paranormal problems. It'll be a roaring success with our combined knowledge and abilities. I can't wait to get started."
He glanced shyly down at our fingers twined together. "Partner has a nice ring to it. But I prefer wife."
"Oh. Oh! Yes, of course."
He watched me through his lashes. "Is that yes, as in yes you will marry me?"
"Yes!"
He threw his arms around me and we fell back onto the ground all over again.
The sun was fully over the horizon when we came up for air. He helped me to my feet and we walked with our arms around one another toward the house.
"I ought to warn you," I said. "We have to name our first born after Tommy."
"What if she's a girl?"
"Even then."
He pulled a face. I smiled and tilted my face up to see him better. He bent to kiss me, and we stopped walking.
It took a long time to reach the house. Only Mrs. Moore was awake when we did. She cooked us breakfast and we ate in the kitchen while we waited for the others to come downstairs. She found Quin a shirt and he buttoned it up but did not tuck it in. He didn't have his sword.
"You do look a mess, Miss Moreau," the housekeeper said as she cracked eggs into a bowl.
"It's been a long and eventful night, Mrs. Moore. Did anyone notice me gone?"
"I don't think so. No alarms were raised, no searches conducted." She eyed each of us in turn. "Were you in the village?"
"We were somewhat further afield."
Quin smiled. "But we're here to stay now."
"You're not going back to that colony on the other side of the world, Mr. St. Clair?"
It took me a moment to realize she was referring to Melbourne. We'd told everyone Quin was from that distant shore, and it seemed we'd been believed.
"I have good reason to remain here now," he said.
I placed my hand over his, and was about to tell her that we were going to be married, but Hannah entered the kitchen. She broke off her yawn when she saw us.
"Quin! What are you doing back?" Her gaze darted to the high kitchen window, and worry shadowed her eyes. "What's happened?"
"I have returned," he said. "Forever."
Her jaw dropped. "How?"
"Cara can be very persuasive when she sets her mind to it."
"I think I need to hear more."
"And you will," I told her. "After we tidy up."
She eyed my hair and filthy dress. It was covered in dirt from the floor of the demon hut, and I hated to think what state my hair was in. "You do look like you've had an interesting evening."
I was reluctant to part from Quin, but Hannah wasn't liberal minded enough to allow us to undress in front of each other, even though I told her Quin and I would marry as soon as possible. We met up again in the formal drawing room. I was the last to come down, even though Hannah helped me with my hair. She'd already woken the rest of the household, and everyone was present.
Quin rose upon seeing me and held out his hand. I took it and we shared a warm gaze that made my heart do little flips in my chest.
"Now, will you please explain what is happening?" Mr. Langley said. "St. Clair wanted us to hear it from you, Cara."
I raised my eyebrows at Quin. "It is your doing," he told me. "You should have the honor of telling the tale."
We sat together on the sofa, one of the rare times in which Quin sat down when he was at Frakingham, and I told them what I'd done. Unfortunately I had to mention Tommy's role, but nobody gave him an admonishing glare. Not even Mr. Langley. I finished by telling them that Quin and I were getting married. A round of congratulations followed.
Then Sylvia burst into tears. "See, Uncle!" Her face was red, her eyes swollen from what I suspected was a night of crying. "Even they're going to marry and you cannot get two more unsuitable people. Quin was dead! He's not even from this time! Yet they're allowed to be together. Why can't we?"
She looked as if she was about to run from the room, but Tommy took her hand before she had a chance to flee. Despite the presence of Langley, and all of us, he folded her against his chest.
"We'll be together, my love," he murmured into her hair. "I'll take care of you, no matter where we are."
She smiled through her tears and put her arms around him. "And I'll take care of you."
Langley cleared his throat, and they separated, but held hands. "It seems Cara isn't the only one who can present a persuasive argument." He glanced first at Bollard then Jack. "I have been convinced that giving my blessing to your marriage will be best for this family. The alternative was…not favorable."
Sylvia stared unblinking at him. Tommy let her go and stepped forward. He extended his hand to Langley, and Langley took it without hesitation.
"Thank you, sir. I will take good care of her, despite…" Tommy indicated his weak arm.
"You've also been reinstated as my assistant," Jack said, beaming at his friend. "I can't manage alone."
Sylvia continued to stare, but her lower lip began to wobble. Langley stared back at her. He looked uncomfortable, as if he didn't know what to say or do. Bollard wasn't quite so apprehensive. He pushed Langley's wheelchair forward and stopped it in front of Sylvia. Then he stepped around it and drew her into a hug. It was the most emotion I'd ever seen him express, and I suspected even Sylvia hadn't received such a reaction from him before. She hugged him back and thanked him through her tears.
He drew away and signed something to her that made her cry harder. I looked to Hannah for a translation and she whispered, "He said their niece will make a beautiful bride."
Their niece. It seemed Sylvia was gaining a fiancé and another uncle in one morning. And I thought I was blessed.
Langley cleared his throat then he too opened his arms to receive her hug.
"Oh, Uncle. Thank you!"
"It doesn't come without a condition attached." His voice sounded strained, thick.
She drew back and narrowed her gaze at him.
"Anything," Tommy assured him.
"You must promise to stay here at Frakingham. The house needs you, and Jack and Hannah. And your friends. It needs laughter and conversation. Balls and dinner parties too, if you insist."
Bollard signed something again, and I didn't need Hannah to interpret the simple signals. 'We need you.'
Sylvia beamed at Tommy, and Jack laid his hand on his wife's belly.
Quin tilted his head closer to mine. "How long before we can wed?" he whispered.
I met his heated gaze with my own. "In a hurry, are you?"
He nibbled my ear. "Aye."
I giggled at the tickling from his lips. "We'll leave tomorrow to visit Jacob and Emily, then begin organizing things for a small wedding as soon as possible. I'm not waiting for Celia and Louis to arrive in the country." I stroked his cheek, his jaw, his hair. "We've waited long enough."
EPILOGUE
Samuel and Char
ity's wedding was a quiet affair, but as elegant as their small circle of friends expected it to be. After all, Charity did have exquisite taste and the groom's mother had been excluded from as many of the arrangements as possible. They married in the church the Gladstone family frequented in the village, then meandered back to the house afterward for the traditional wedding breakfast. Nobody hurried. The late summer sunshine was warm but not hot, and many of the villagers came out to watch the procession and marvel at the beautiful bride in her white silk gown trimmed with lace and organdy. She smiled at them all and accepted flowers from the little girls with enthusiasm, even though some of the blossoms had wilted in the sun.
Her four bridesmaids also wore white, with coronets of pink roses in their hair. Two of them strolled arm in arm with their husbands along the path to the house. The third was accompanied by her fiancé, whose arm hung limply at his side, and the fourth, the most interesting looking girl of them all, beamed up at a broad-shouldered man at her side, who also happened to be her fiancé. He, poor fellow, looked uncomfortable in his formal frock coat and cravat, but no less happy than the other groomsmen.
The little ring bearer and flower girl, children of the Beauforts, skipped along hand in hand, then raced ahead, trying to beat one another to the next tree, and then the next. The boy, being the eldest, and with long legs like his father, always won, except for the last time when he let his sister have some glory.
The four couples stayed overnight then departed the next day in two carriages. The newlyweds occupied one of the Gladstone coaches, making up the third in the convoy that reached Frakingham House late in the day. The housekeeper greeted them with a fine supper, put on by the cook and her assistants who'd all returned, along with the other servants, after a brief absence.
Despite their long day on the road, the couples wanted to enjoy a few more hours together before the newlyweds continued on with their honeymoon to the continent in the morning. They sat on the terrace, arranged in couples, and gazed across the sloping lawn to the ethereal abbey ruins and the glossy lake beyond.
"It's so peaceful here," Emily murmured, sinking back into Jacob's arms.
Jack kissed his wife's temple. "Hard to believe what has transpired over these last several months here."
