“Ah, you are acquainted with Lord Blackburn. Well, any friend of his is a friend of mine. Welcome, what brings you to our humble island?”
“Well, sir, I was hoping to court your daughter, should you and she allow it. In the meantime, I thought I may provide her with instruction in the English language.”
“Ah.” He chuckled. “You’ve heard of my daughter’s beauty. Well, my dear fellow, you are not the first suitor to call at my door. You’ve heard tales of my daughter’s disinterest in all of them? That girl will send me to an early grave.”
“Yes, sir, I have. And I intend to change her mind,” Michael said, trying to match the man’s posture and gait as best as possible to appear legitimate.
“Well, I wish you luck there, it appears you’d be a fine match for her. And I’m pleased with the notion of her learning to speak English. I think I will take you up on your proposition, sir. You may start this afternoon.”
“Excellent,” Michael said in what he hoped was a stately manner.
“Just a moment, I’ll have the maid fetch my daughter and you can make her acquaintance.” He rang a bell, and the maid returned. He instructed her to bring Celine to his office straight away to meet Mr. Carlyle. Michael and Damien exchanged a glance at the mention of the girl’s name.
“So, you’re in the shipping business, are you, Carlyle?” Marquis Devereaux said as they waited.
“That’s correct, yes. We have quite a fleet.” Relief washed over Michael as the door opened, quashing the need for further conversation. The maid appeared, followed by a young woman. The appearance of Celine stunned Michael and Damien into silence.
“Papa, vous m’avez appelé?” the girl said.
“Oui, Céline, est-ce que je peux présenter Michael Carlyle et son frère Damien,” he said to her.
She looked toward the two men, holding her hand out, palm down for them to greet her. Michael took her hand first, kissing it lightly, Damien followed. Damien was in disbelief as he took her hand. He stared down at a young version of Josie. She was identical to what she had looked like in high school minus the eighteenth century dress and hair piled on her head. Michael had a similar reaction despite not having known her at this age. The resemblance was amazing.
“Bonjour,” she said, smiling sweetly.
“Celine,” Marquis Devereaux said to her, continuing in French, “Mr. Carlyle has traveled from the States. I’ve hired him on to be your English tutor.”
“Oh, Papa!” she answered in French, clasping her hands together in excitement, “I am to learn English?”
“So, this pleases you, my dear?”
“Oh, yes, Papa!”
“Excellent. You will start this afternoon; please meet Mr. Carlyle in the foyer upon finishing lunch. Now be a good student and pay careful attention.”
“Oh, I promise I will, Papa!
“You may go, I will see you at dinner.”
Michael and Damien watched the exchange, Michael understanding some of what was being said, Damien understanding none of it. After Celine had exited the room, the Marquis addressed them. “I am encouraged, she was quite cordial. I trust my daughter will be a good student for you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have Amelie settle you into your rooms.” He rang the bell again, and the maid returned. He spoke to her in French to which she nodded and motioned for the men to follow her. “Good morning, sirs, I’ll see you both at dinner. And I expect my daughter to greet me in English,” he said, in an amusing fashion.
“I’ll do my best, sir,” Michael said with a smile.
The two followed the maid upstairs to their bedrooms. Damien quickly found his way from his room to Michael’s room. “Okay, this is officially bizarre,” he said, entering the room.
“Yeah, that’s for sure. She’s like Josie but it can’t be. It’s the 1700s. So is Celine actually Josie later? How is that possible? That would mean she’s over two hundred years old.”
“I’m trying not to think my cousin is that old. Let’s not talk about that, it’s just too weird. So, what’s the plan?”
“Well, I guess we teach Celine English and try to find out when her birthday is so we can give her this letter,” Michael said, pulling the letter from his pocket, “and then try to find this book. Do you think there’s a library in the house? We should have asked the maid.”
“Yeah, oh, perhaps we can ask Celine. Josie said she should give it to us.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather find the book and get the hell home. We can try to see if she has any information. How much do you think she knows?”
“About how she’s going to live to be a few hundred years old and can open time portals and kill people with her mind and stuff?”
“Yeah, about that.”
“No idea, but maybe we shouldn’t give away too much until we figure out how much she knows.”
“Yeah, I agree. Okay, the maid said she’d see about getting us a tray for lunch. Then we’re supposed to meet Celine after so I guess we’ve got lunch to figure out how to approach this.”
As they were talking, the maid knocked, bringing a tray of lunch and asking if she should leave both men’s meals here. Michael motioned for her to do so, and they resumed talking once she left. Both of them stopped their conversation though as they looked at their water glasses. The less-than-clear, murky water filled the glass. Michael made a disgusted face then said, “Yeah, I’m not drinking this.”
“Hello, dehydration,” Damien followed up with, pouring his water in a nearby plant.
They finished the rest of their meals then made their way back downstairs to the foyer. Within a few minutes, Celine appeared in the hallway, twirling a parasol.
“Ah, bonjour, Celine,” Michael said, bowing and smiling.
“Bonjour!” Celine said, smiling at them.
They stood in silence for a few moments before Celine said, “Marcher?”
“Ah,
