Page 23 of The Tides of Time (Storm Tide #1)

H ow often does Captain Travert dock here?” Géraud asked.

They’d been waiting for Armitage’s return longer than Lili would prefer. It was the third comment her brother had made since they’d been left at the docks. All three were related to the French captain.

“I have seen him only once since I arrived.”

“And when was that?” His narrowed gaze held more than curiosity. He was piecing something together, but she didn’t know what.

“I was dropped here weeks ago.” It was both true and, she suspected and hoped, a little unhelpful.

“Yet the storm that brought us here over these tides was the same?” Géraud watched her ever more closely.

“I do not fully understand how the Tides of Time ebb and flow, only that they do.”

With tight jaw, Géraud turned his attention to the small handful of boats in the harbor. She didn’t know if he was lost in memory or attempting to plan some kind of escape, but she’d not yet found anything in the book of folktales that told her that journeys across time could be controlled or predicted. He might manage to return to France, but there was no guarantee that it would be their France. The chances of reaching any specific, aimed-for time were nearly nonexistent.

She spied Armitage approaching and sighed not quite silently.

“Best not let your heart grow too attached, Elisabeth. He will eventually sort out that you don’t belong here, and he won’t want you to stay.”

Lili had grown adept at feigning indifference during her months undermining Géraud’s efforts with the Tribunal. She did so again in that moment. Anyone seeing her would think she wasn’t the least worried about the possibility he raised. But she was. Should she be tossed out, she would grieve Armitage’s company and kindness and affection.

He smiled as he reached her, and it enveloped her heart in much-needed warmth. “Your pay, Miss Minet.” He set a few coins in her hand. “Our pay packets come every quarter day, and this isn’t a whole quarter’s salary. If it runs out before the next pay, don’t fret on it. Us’ll not let you go in want.”

“You mean to let me stay until the next quarter day?”

“As I told our nosy visitors, you’ve a home at the lighthouse for however long you wish.”

“Take care, Armitage Pierce,” she said in tones of mock warning. “You might find you’ll never be rid of me.”

His smile simply grew. “Shall we wander through the village?” His question included Géraud, though she suspected he did so out of obligation. “Do a bit of shopping?”

Lili didn’t know how much a shawl would cost, but she’d promised herself that she would obtain one of her own so she could return Armitage’s mother’s shawl to him. That needed to be her first priority with the money she had earned.

But as they walked back through the village, the bookshop captured her attention, and her original aim of Mrs. Willis’s clothiers was temporarily set aside. “Might we go into the bookshop?”

“Anywhere you’d like, Lili.”

He held the shop door for her, quite as if she were a fine lady. It made her want to laugh, an urge she couldn’t remember having in years and years.

Though she hadn’t spent time pondering what the interior of the bookshop would look like, it somehow was exactly what she’d expected. Specks of dust danced in spills of light from the windows. Shelves around the room were filled with haphazard piles and lines of books. More piles were scattered around the room. It smelled of mystery and tranquility.

“You must be Miss Lili.” Mr. Vaughn, whom she’d seen during her visits to the grocer next door, approached. His were inquisitive eyes, and his smile was kind. “You’re about all the village can talk of.”

“I hope that talk is not of the miserable sort.” She’d not leaned as heavily on her French accent the last few days, letting those who heard it assume she was growing more comfortable with English.

“Those who’ve been fortunate enough to meet you,” Mr. Vaughn said, “speak highly. And all the others talk hopefully of the possibility of making your acquaintance.”

Other than Mrs. Willis, Dixon, and Goddard, Lili had met only Mr. Burgess, the grocer. That the rest of the village wished to know her was both unexpected and exciting.

“Armitage and Mr. Pierce and Mr. McGuile have been telling me all about English fêtes ,” she said. “And they are teaching me to dance the English dances, though I am not good at them.”

Mr. Vaughn waved that away. “The fetes are delightful even for those of us who cannot dance at all.”

Lili looked over at Armitage, who was looking through books. Even if she never mastered the dances Mikhail was attempting to teach her, she wouldn’t be turned away from the village gathering. She could be there with Armitage, being part of this village that meant so much to him.

Géraud was still in the shop as well. He opened a book, though he didn’t look inside beyond the first page. He did the same with another. She suspected he was looking at the publication dates. She, after all, had done the same while attempting to make sense of all that had happened. She had told him to do so. It seemed he was listening.

Lili turned back to Mr. Vaughn. “I have a question about a book.”

“You are in the correct shop, Miss Lili.”

“I found a book that is not mine, neither does anyone at the lighthouse know to whom it belongs. I thought you might know. I would like to return it, as the one it belongs to must be looking for it.”

He nodded.

“The book is Tales along the Southern Coast. It is about folktales in this part of England.”

“Ah, I know the book.”

That was fortuitous.

“I sold it over a year ago.”

“Do you remember whom you sold it to?”

“To Captain Travert.”

Captain Travert. The Frenchman. Lili thought back on the day the book had appeared in her basket. The captain had been in Loftstone Village that day. He and Armitage had exchanged a few quick words.

Captain Travert had put the book in her basket. But why?

“Do you know when he is expected back?” she asked.

“I’d wager he’ll return for the fete. He’s been here for quite a few of them.”

“I will ask him about the book then.” She tried to make that sound like a small thing, though it was anything but. The question she most needed answered wasn’t if he wished to have the book back but why he had given it to her, why he had marked the chapter about the Tides of Time. She wanted to know what precisely he knew about her.

And she needed to decide whether he posed a threat.

Mr. Vaughn crossed to where Armitage was bent over a book. “Did you find something?”

While they spoke, Lili watched Géraud. There was no question he was searching the dates inside the books he found. He had seen too much evidence of the passage of decades to truly be doubting her still. Yet she knew how unbelievable it was, and she didn’t fault him for searching out even more evidence.

Eighty years stretched between the Paris that had torn them apart and the world they were now in. She didn’t know what had become of France and the Tribunal, but whatever version of it now existed, it no longer made them each other’s enemy.

A breeze drifted in through the slightly ajar door. Géraud shivered. He had been given a set of clothes to wear in the current style. She suspected that had been offered because his clothes had been too damaged by the sea. The generosity, though, had helped him not be too conspicuous. Unfortunately, a thick sweater or a coat had not been among the generous offering. He, like Lili, had arrived ill-equipped for the fierce cold of Loftstone Island.

Armitage purchased the book he’d been looking at, then the three of them continued on their way. Lili bought a loaf of bread from the baker, some produce, and a half-wheel of cheese from the grocer. Through it all, Géraud fairly glared at everyone they passed. He would not be as warmly welcomed as she was finding herself. And his coldness might very well prove a wedge between Lili and the village she so much wanted to accept her.

Perhaps when he’d had time to accept what fate had done to them and once he realized that the path he’d been walking was now washed clean away, the kinder and more-thoughtful Géraud would find his way back.

“Do you need to rush back to le phare ,” she asked Armitage, “or have we time to go inside Mrs. Willis’s shop?”

He was holding her basket in one hand and her hand in the other. “Grandfather insisted I allow you all the time you need.”

“He is very kind to me.”

Armitage released her hand to open the door to the clothier shop. “Him likes you, Lili.”

She paused in the doorway, meeting his eye. “Do you like me?”

He leaned so close, she could smell the sandalwood soap he used. “Pay a bit of heed the next few days, and I suspect you’ll be able to sort that answer easily.”

She dropped her voice to a whisper. “And what if I told you that there is very little you do that I don’t take heed of?”

Armitage’s eyes slid languidly over her face. “I think I’d like hearing that.”

An annoyed sigh from directly behind them broke the spell. Géraud stood there, his expression and posture unmistakably irritated. Lili felt rather vexed herself; she’d been enjoying the moment of flirting.

She stepped into the shop, trying to push away her frustration.

Mrs. Willis emerged from her back room, and delight spread over her face when she saw them. She hugged Armitage, then, to Lili’s amazement, hugged her as well.

“You weren’t feeling too well last I saw you.” Mrs. Willis looked her over with the concerned expression of a mother or aunt. “I hope you rested.”

“I did. And merci beaucoup to you and Mrs. Dixon and Mrs. Goddard for making supper that night. The men would have been delayed in all their work without you.”

Mrs. Willis patted her hand. “Us were happy to help.” Her eyes shifted to Géraud. “Who is this?”

“This is my brother, Géraud. He has also come to visit.”

“Your brother?” A look of wonder formed on the woman’s face. “Us hadn’t heard more of your family was making the journey.”

“He surprised me.” Lili was able to offer the explanation convincingly; it was the truth after all.

“Will him still be here for the fete?”

She shrugged and shook her head. “ Je ne sais pas . But I will be here. I am looking forward to it.”

Mrs. Willis looked ecstatic. “Will you dance with Armitage?”

If Lili were one to blush easily, she would have been red as a robin. “Mr. McGuile and Armitage are attempting to teach me to dance. If I can learn before the fête , I do hope Armitage will ask me to dance with him.”

“Him will.” Mrs. Willis nodded knowingly. “Him will.”

Lili was momentarily distracted by the sight of Géraud staring at a dress form and the many-ruffled dress it wore. He looked completely baffled. The shape of the dress was more drastic than what the ladies in the village wore from day to day. And it was entirely different from anything they’d seen in Paris. He might not have realized that dressmakers’ shops in their time didn’t contain ready-made clothing, else his confusion would have been even greater.

To Mrs. Willis, Lili said, “Have you any shawls? Warm ones that’d be useful at the lighthouse?”

The woman eyed the shawl Lili was then wearing. “Like thissen?”

She nodded. “But this belonged to Armitage’s mother. I want to give it back to him so nothing happens to it.”

“Lili, I told you I’m not expecting it back.” Armitage stepped up beside her. “And I don’t consider it a loan.”

“I know it, and I do believe you.” She set a hand on his arm. “But the shawl belonged à ta mère . I could not forgive myself if anything happened to it.”

“And I would never forgive myself if you were cold every day,” he said.

Lili’s lips twitched upward a bit. “I will not be, Armitage. I am buying a shawl.”

His laugh emerged as something of a snort. “You are stubborn.”

She assumed a comically proud posture. “ Je suis francaise. ”

Lili could feel Géraud’s glare. It was a sensation that had followed her from Paris to Honfleur and out onto la Manche. She didn’t look at him. Moments of animosity were not what she wanted to remember or dwell on. They had a chance to not be enemies. That was what she was choosing to cling to.

“I have these shawls here.” Mrs. Willis motioned her to a shelf that held several folded bits of wool, each a slightly different color than the others.

“The blue is very beautiful.”

Mrs. Willis pulled it free of the others and shook it out, allowing it to spill open before giving it to Lili to look over.

“It is so soft.” She’d not intended to make the observation so breathlessly, but it truly was the softest wool she’d ever touched. “ Merveilleux. ” She touched it to her cheek. “ Incroyable .” Before she let herself dream of owning such a seemingly luxurious thing, she would do well to know more. “Is it warm?”

“Very warm,” Mrs. Willis said.

“And—” Lili stepped closer and lowered her voice, feeling a little embarrassed. “What is the price, s’il vous pla?t ?”

Lili had spent time since arriving on Loftstone learning the denomination of coins and how to add them up. The price Mrs. Willis gave was within her current means. That felt almost miraculous.

A warm shawl of her own. Beautiful and wonderfully soft. And she would not risk ruining something so important to Armitage. And yet ...

“Do you have any men’s clothing?” Lili asked.

“Men’s clothing?”

Lili carefully set the shawl down. How she wanted to keep hold of it, to let herself dream of owning it a little longer. “My brother arrived without a coat or a ... euh ...” She tried to indicate a sweater using hand motions. “I do not know the word in English,” she finally admitted. “Have you something warm he can wear over—” She made a general motion.

“I do have a man’s coat.” Mrs. Willis eyed Géraud. “I suspect it would be a little too large for he but still better than nothing.”

The price, though, proved beyond what Lili was able to manage. “Do you have anything else?”

The woman seemed to understand that the cost was prohibitive. She moved to a drawer and pulled out a thick scarf. “Thissen’d be welcome and helpful in even the most bittish cold.”

It would help. That was what she wanted—to help Géraud, to offer him the same thoughtful consideration he had offered her all those years ago when he’d brought her the tartelette amandine . Recalling that moment had softened him. If they could have a few more moments like that, perhaps it would heal him, recall him to the person he’d once been.

“What is the price, s’il vous pla?t ?”

The scarf was less than the shawl. She could purchase it for him, though she would not have enough left for the shawl. Still, she could continue to save. After all, she had a shawl to use. She was not as cold as Géraud was.

“I would like to show it to him.”

“Eez.”

Armitage used that word sometimes. It meant yes .

Lili took the scarf, thick and tightly woven, and turned to face her brother. She stepped a bit closer. “I have a scarf for you.” She spoke in French, though she’d not made the conscious decision to do so. “You will not be so cold.”

He looked at it, then at her. Far from looking pleased, he tensed from head to toe.

“It is a good scarf,” she said, still speaking their native tongue. “You could wear it on the way back to the lighthouse, and you would be far warmer than you were on the walk here.”

His eyes hardened. “I do not want anything from you ,” he spat.

Each step he took thundered through the shop as he made his way to and out the door. He moved past the front window, storming down the road that would, if he remained on it long enough, reach the lighthouse.

I do not want anything from you .

For a moment, she could only stand in stunned silence as those words punished her over and over again.

I do not want anything from you . It wasn’t hurt that had filled his words. It wasn’t even mere anger. She might have labeled it fury if his voice and expression hadn’t been as piercingly cold as the weather she had been trying to shield him from.

She swallowed with some difficulty. Forcing herself to breathe through the emotion welling up, she turned back toward Mrs. Willis. She placed the scarf in the woman’s hands.

In a voice too small to be anything but embarrassing, Lili said, “He didn’t want it.” She didn’t finish the sentence aloud, but her heart echoed with the unspoken final words “not from me .”

Mrs. Willis watched her with too much concern for comfort. It tiptoed a touch closer to pity than Lili could endure in that moment.

“ Je suis désolée d’avoir pris votre temps ,” she said, moving toward the door . “ Je reviendrai un autre jour. ”

Behind her, she heard Armitage say, “She apologized for the time. I didn’t understand the last part.”

She’d spoken in French. She had been doing so much better at realizing which language she was speaking. Her mind was currently too overwhelmed.

She, too, walked along the road in the direction of the lighthouse. Géraud was not so far ahead of her that she couldn’t see him. But she made no attempt to catch him. He wouldn’t have wanted her to.

Lili felt nearly torn in two by the contradiction she’d constantly felt since Géraud’s arrival. She knew what he was and what he’d done, and that was not something that she could ever approve of. But her memories of the brother whom she had loved and who had loved her pulled at the lonely corners of her heart with a whispered hope that she could have a bit of her family back. She could have a connection to all that she had lost.

But he wasn’t that Géraud any longer. She knew he wasn’t.

Why, then, did she keep trying to find the brother she’d lost? And why did she keep letting him hurt her?