Forever His(130)

This place where Gaston had lived for more than nine years felt empty and strange. Not merely his bedchamber, but the entire chateau. Most of his servants and guardsmen were in the north, preparing their new home for their lord.

And his lady.

Who would never see it.

She would not be coming back to him. And he must marry Rosalind.

Four days. That was all they had left. Even now Celine was above, in the chamber where she had first arrived, talking with Brynna. He had sent Royce to fetch the mystic woman, to bring her here so that she and Celine could make certain all was in readiness before the dark of the moon. Gaston would take no chances with Celine’s life.

Though he did not wish to be separated from her for even a moment, he had left the two women alone for their discussion. He could not listen to them plan every detail of how his wife was going to leave him.

And they did not need his help. All was proceeding vexingly well. Etienne’s fever had broken, and he had been able to describe the path he had followed through the forest. Gaston’s men had soon located Celine’s bundle. With her garish pink pouch and her garment of topaz-colored silk, she had all she needed. To leave him. Forever.

With a frustrated oath, he exited the bare chamber, slamming the door behind him. He felt angry and irksome, and all the pacing and thinking he could do would make him feel no better. The two women had been planning long enough; they could continue their accursed discussion on the morrow.

He had other plans for his wife this night, and they did not involve talking.

On the floor above, he opened the door to the chamber without knocking. Celine and Brynna were having such an animated conversation, standing at the window examining the panes, it took a moment before they seemed to realize he was there.

As they turned, Gaston felt suddenly out of place, like a bull charging into a display of delicate perfume flasks at a trade far. He remained in the doorway, his hand on the latch. “I did not wish to interrupt.”

“You’re not interrupting.” Celine crossed the room with a bittersweet smile.

He met her halfway, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “I lied. I did wish to interrupt.” Staring into the blue-gray depths of her eyes, he almost kissed her, but was mindful that they had an audience.

Then he kissed her anyway.

“By all the holy saints,” Brynna gasped.

Gaston raised his head to find the mystic woman gaping at them with a look of wide-eyed astonishment.

“I’m sorry,” Celine said, color rising in her cheeks. “Brynna, we didn’t mean to embarrass you—”

“Nay, milady, I am not embarrassed ... it is merely that I have not seen you and Sir—I mean you and the Duc ... together before.” She stood frozen, as if in a hypnotic daze. “Oh, sweet Mary, I may have had it wrong all along,” she said breathlessly. “How could I have overlooked this?”

“May have had what wrong?” Gaston demanded.

“Overlooked what?” Celine asked at the same time.

Brynna gestured absently to Celine’s belongings, stored neatly in the corner. “We thought it was the missing pouch that held you here, milady. And it ... it may have been. Or it may have been something else. Something I never thought of before. But I did not know ... I had no idea ...”

“Of what?” Gaston asked impatiently, his gut tightening with concern.

Brynna moved closer to them, hands raised as if to make a measure, or as if she were warming her palms before a fire. “Lady Celine, you must take with you everything that you arrived with ... you cannot leave anything behind.”

“Like my purse?” Celine asked in confusion.

“Or your heart.” Brynna stopped a few feet away, squinting as if in a bright light, while her hands moved in a graceful pattern through the air. “Oh, milady, the feeling ... it is so strong between you, I can see it. It is like ... like the light and the heat of the sun. Of a hundred suns. I did not know ... I never realized! All along we have been concentrating on the physical elements—your garment, your pouch—when this may be far more important.”

“Not things,” Celine whispered in amazement, “but emotion?”

Brynna nodded, looking worried. “I had no idea that you and your husband were so much in love.”

Gaston felt as if the floor had been snatched from beneath him. His arm flexed around Celine’s shoulders. “Are you saying that she cannot return home?”

“I do not know, milord. Lady Celine is the first time-traveler I have met. My father knew of dozens, but I have not his experience. All I can say is that this may be important. Never have I witnessed so strong a link between two people.” Brynna shaded her eyes with one hand, as if Gaston and Celine were emitting a blinding glare. “Mayhap it was this emotional force which pulled your lady to you across time ... and now the bond has grown so strong—”