Page 20 of The Tides of Time (Storm Tide #1)

L ili didn’t know how long Armitage would have remained in the kitchen if Géraud hadn’t refused to speak English. She was both frustrated on Armitage’s behalf and relieved on her own. Her brother couldn’t cause too much mischief if he didn’t have anyone to talk to.

She’d finished washing the dishes without her brother speaking a word to her. The silence was anything but comfortable. She dried her hands on a rag, then turned slowly to face him. Something would have to be said between them.

He saved her the trouble of finding that something. “I tried to warn you, Elisabeth, that the Tribunal could find you no matter how far you fled.” His tone was almost pitying.

“You no longer have the backing of the Tribunal, Géraud.”

To her surprise, he paled a little. “I was given this final opportunity. They will not have denounced me.”

Final opportunity?

He stood, tension rippling off him. “They discovered my betrayal.”

“ Your betrayal?”

“Lili Minet, the traitor to the Republic, had managed to stay ahead of the Tribunal for too long and with too much success to be mere coincidence.” His mouth pulled tight. “She must have had access to information only an agent of the Tribunal could know.”

“They traced me to you.” She had tried very hard not to incriminate him in her efforts.

“I told them I was betrayed, that you had stolen the information from me.” He rose slowly. Though she knew he could be dangerous, and it was clear he was angry, she wasn’t afraid. At least not in that moment. “And this is my chance. If I am not part of your schemes, then I will uphold the Tribunal and hand over the traitor. It is the proof they need.”

She understood the price of being declared a traitor. Payment was due to Madame Guillotine.

“But you are not in France,” she said. “Nothing has to be proved to the Tribunal here. Now.”

“I will not stay here. France is my home. France’s future is my future.”

“It isn’t though. Your future is its past.”

His eyes narrowed. “You have taken to speaking in riddles.”

“There are things you do not yet understand.”

“You said that before.”

“Follow me.” She stepped to the parlor door.

“I do not take orders from you, Elisabeth.” The anger in his voice caught her breath for a moment. It wasn’t threatening or menacing. It pushed forward too many memories of tense nights in their flat in Paris as he’d spoken of the ideals of the revolution and she had worked so hard to hide her feelings on the matter and the secret rescues she had undertaken.

“I am not giving orders,” she said without looking back. “You need to understand the riddles you hear in what I have said.”

She crossed into the parlor and held her breath. Would he follow? Would he listen?

He was angry, and she understood that. She had betrayed him, and she had endangered him. But he had turned his back on everything their parents had taught them to be: compassionate, honorable, advocates for the vulnerable. She couldn’t turn her back on those traits. And she couldn’t bear to let him hurt people without doing all she could to prevent it.

But here, in this England of 1873, there was no Géraud Gagnon, agent of the Tribunal, and there was no Lili Minet, traitor to France. Here, there was the possibility of no longer being enemies. Away from the drumbeat of the power and punishment, Géraud might realize what the revolution had turned him into. Lili might find a measure of peace. But it started with convincing him of an impossible magic.

“I’ll listen to your riddles.” He spoke from one step inside the door. “But do not for a moment think I do not intend to return to Paris. With you.”

“Look at these newspapers, Géraud.” She pushed them across the desk and closer to him.

“I will not read an English newspaper. It is bad enough you have been speaking it to them all night.”

“You needn’t read anything beyond the date. Read the date.”

He didn’t so much as glance down at the banners.

She held up the almanac Armitage had left on the chairside table. “Or the year of this almanac.”

“I am trying to be patient with you, Elisabeth.”

“Likewise,” she muttered. She tapped the front of the almanac where the year was emblazoned. “Almanac for the Year 1873.” She pointed at the date on the top newspaper. “1873.” Then the newspaper below that. “1873.”

Some of Géraud’s anger shifted to bewilderment.

Lili pulled the book of recipes and cooking instructions from the drawer she’d tucked it in earlier that day. She opened to the first leaf. “Published London: Joseph Masters, Aldersgate Street and New Bond Street. 1860 .” She closed it again and turned it so the slightly tattered cover faced him. “It is not a new book, Géraud.”

“Why are you telling me lies?”

“I’m not.” She took a single step closer, holding his gaze as firmly as she could. “Something happens on the water around this island. There is a book about it, one I have been reading. The tides take people through time, snatching them from where they are and dragging them, in an instant, years into the past or the future.”

“I will not be manipulated into believing something so illogical.”

“Ignoring the proof in front of you would be illogical.”

He pointed at the newspapers. “Hardly proof when such a thing could be printed anywhere.”

These were the same arguments she’d had with herself.

Lili moved to the paraffin lamp. “Is this not real?” She pulled a parlor match from the metal box on the mantel. “Or this?”

“A stick?”

She didn’t allow herself to be interrupted. “The iron box in the kitchen is filled with fire, Géraud. And the odd clothing these men wear—you must have noticed how different it is from what you know.” She set the match in its box again. “These things are real, but you have never seen them before. And they are not the only things, Géraud. There is a monstrous metal ... land ship with smoke billowing from its chimney as it roars into the village, depositing people and goods before roaring away again. No sails. No horses pulling it.”

“You are lying,” he said, but a tiny hint of doubt had entered his voice.

“These men here know me, my name, know that I have a brother. They knew how much English I speak. You have seen that I already have an established set of tasks I perform here.” She had to make him see the truth of it all. “You arrived here last night, immediately after we were both swept off that boat. Yet I have been here for weeks.”

His brow furrowed. His lips turned down in a ponderous frown.

“Time behaves oddly on the water here. The tides have magic.”

He shook his head, but more slowly than before. “They have put nonsense into your mind.”

“The Tides of Time are part of the folklore on this island, but no one here believes it is real. Not any longer. I dare not tell any of them when I have come from; they would not believe me any more than you do.”

“And yet you believe it?”

“After I was swept overboard in the storm and thrown deep into the water, I clawed my way to the surface again, and it was daylight. The storm was gone. The boat was gone. You were gone.” She shook her head. “I have known from the moment I gulped my first desperate lungful of air that something happened that I cannot explain. I have spent the last weeks looking for that answer.”

“You are mad.”

“Go about Loftstone Island telling everyone the year is 1793, and you will be labeled precisely that. I do not imagine the institutions for the mad are better in this time than they were in ours.”

Caution had seeped into his expression, but the disbelief hadn’t fully left it.

“I know this is not something that can be immediately believed. But please, believe enough to guard your tongue if only to save your life. Watch. Listen. You will realize the truth of it soon enough.”

“What of France?”

“I do not know what our homeland looks like now,” she said, “but we are no longer part of it. The Tribunal is not waiting on your ‘proof,’ and I am no longer on their list of enemies.”

His eyes darted to the newspapers. Was he starting to believe her? At least considering the possibility?

The lighthouse tower door scraped open; she knew the sound well by now. Any further explanation to Géraud would have to wait.

Armitage and his grandfather ambled inside. Lili watched Armitage, hoping for some indication that he wasn’t as upset with her as she feared. But his attention was on Géraud.

“Mikhail’s set to take first watch tonight,” Armitage said, “so us needs to explain something to you.”

Géraud gave a quick, stern nod, his eyes narrowed.

“When your sister first arrived, her hadn’t anywhere to go, was beaten up by the sea, struggling with the language. Us wasn’t willing to toss her out into the cold.”

Not a hint of concern for Lili’s situation or gratitude for the Pierce’s kindness touched Géraud’s expression.

If Armitage was waiting to see it, he didn’t give any indication. “But the rules governing lighthouses forbid lodgers. So, us’ve put it about that Lili’s a friend of the family come for a visit. That’s permitted.”

Another abbreviated nod from Géraud.

“My mum was French,” Armitage said. “Us’ve said her and your mum were friends, and that’s how us all knows each other. You’ll have to agree to that explanation, else the two of you’ll be tossed out, and the two of us’ll be in a heap of trouble.”

In French, Lili pleaded with her brother. “They saved our lives, Géraud. We cannot repay that with pettiness.”

Géraud’s eyes darted from Lili to Armitage to Mr. Pierce and back. His expression gave so little away.

Lili held her breath. She suspected the Pierces did as well.

At last, Géraud said, “ Je suis d’accord. ”

“I think that means he agrees.” Armitage looked to Lili.

She nodded. Would Géraud refuse to speak English indefinitely? That would quickly prove frustrating. And she would need to formulate an explanation for Mikhail and the village for why she spoke English but her brother didn’t.

“ Est-ce que d’autres Francais vivent ici ?” Géraud directed the question to Armitage.

Armitage’s mouth twisted, and his brows pulled low. “Are there ... French ... here?” Somehow, he repeated the question as even more of a question.

Géraud nodded, not acknowledging the linguistic feat he’d required of his host.

“There aren’t,” Armitage said.

“Captain Travert is French,” Mr. Pierce inserted. “But him docks here only sometimes. Him doesn’t actually live on Loftstone.”

“ Son navire est-il à quai ici maintenant ?”

A quick exhale from Armitage told a story of frustration. “All I understood in that was ‘here now.’”

Mr. Pierce offered his guess. “You’re wanting to know if the captain is on Loftstone now?”

With a show of frustration of his own, Géraud nodded.

“Captain Travert left Loftstone two days ago,” Armitage said. “But the people of Loftstone are kind and welcoming. Your sister’s made friends here. You can as well.”

Your sister . It was the only way Armitage had referred to her since stepping into the room. He’d held her in his arms earlier. Now he wouldn’t even say her name. A shattering pain cracked her heart.

Lili returned her cooking book to the desk drawer, sliding it closed slowly and quietly. A bone-deep weariness washed over her. She wanted to simply climb the stairs and tuck herself into bed, but she had no reason yet to trust that Géraud wouldn’t cause trouble, so she didn’t dare leave.

“Armitage is a bit thrown.” Mr. Pierce spoke in a quiet whisper from directly beside her. People didn’t used to be able to sneak up on her. “Trust is important to he. Feeling him’s misplaced that trust sits uncomfortable on his heart.”

“I did not intend to be untrustworthy, but you know I could not tell him everything.” She answered in the same whisper. “And now my brother might reveal it all just the same.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “I wouldn’t have guessed us had pulled another traveler of the tides from the water last night.”

“I never would have guessed that Géraud would be brought here. Now what am I to do? He is struggling to believe what I have told him, and I suspect he wouldn’t even listen to you.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I fear everything is soon to be torn apart.”

Armitage’s grandfather smiled at her in just the way she imagined a kindhearted and loving grandfather would. “You’ll find your way, Lili. Don’t you abandon hope.”

Her stubborn emotions were hovering worryingly close to the surface that evening. “You have a lot of faith in me, monsieur .”

With a firmness of conviction that surprised her, he said, “I have complete faith in you.”

“At the moment, you are the only one who does.”

He gave her a quick hug. “Then, lean on my faith in you until you find yours again.”