Page 25 of The Tides of Time (Storm Tide #1)

S upper was cooking, and Lili had a bit of time to herself. She wrapped herself in the late Mrs. Pierce’s shawl, took her book of folktales from the desk, and made her way to the low wall outside the kitchen, where she often retreated.

She sat looking out over la Manche, her book waiting on her lap. It was these waters, in this part of the vast seas of the world, that had brought her to this time. And it had brought Géraud. She wanted to understand how. Perhaps that how would help her understand why .

She wanted to help him. He didn’t deserve it. He likely wouldn’t accept it. But she couldn’t prevent the pull. It was who she was: perilous rescues, improbable escapes, trying to save what logic said couldn’t be saved.

Against the sound of the distant waves, she opened the book once more. She’d read the chapter on the Tides of Time so often that she’d nearly memorized it. In recent days, she’d made her way through the other entries. She had only just reached a bit about what the book termed the “angry water.” It seemed promising.

Many tales and superstitions have grown around the tendency of the Channel to turn foreboding with little warning. Some areas of the southern coast attribute this changeableness to the influence of ill-tempered water sprites. Others insist an ancient curse cast by a vengeful witch continues to torment this specific stretch of the sea.

All areas of the southern coast are prone to such difficulties, with the waters stretching from Loftstone Island to the nearby West Sussex coast being, without question, the most treacherous. Though it is a small portion of the Channel, more people are reported swept overboard and lost to the sea in this strip of water than anywhere else. It is, perhaps, for this reason, that the island’s port has never been as busy as others despite being comparatively accessible.

The Tides of Time could account for that high incidence of loss. The people swept off their ships were not recovered because they emerged from the water in a different time. But there had to be a higher rate of people being pulled into the water to begin with. The accounting didn’t explain that.

There was almost a monstrous quality to the angry sea so near Loftstone, an entity that reached up and grabbed those it had marked for snatching. But did it actually choose, or was it simply a matter of fortune or misfortune as the case might be?

And how near to Loftstone Island did the Tides of Time hold sway? The book made it sound as though even a few miles away from the island, a person was out of reach of the tides’ treacherous powers. If she’d been granted passage on a boat bound for Plymouth or Dover, she would still be in 1793. If the storm she’d been caught in had tossed her overboard nearer to France, she’d likely have drowned ... in 1793.

She looked up at the sound of footsteps, then Mr. Pierce sat on the wall beside her. His gaze rested on the sea, just as hers did whenever she sat there.

“Your brother stormed into the barracks this afternoon.”

Lili nodded. “He is angry with me. He has been for a very long time. I don’t know why I let myself think that might change.”

“Because him is family to you, and that’s a connection that tugs at a soul.” He looked away from the sea and at her instead. “You’ve helped me feel some peace about Peony and smile again when I think of she. How can I help you have a bit of that with your brother?”

She dropped her gaze to her hands, resting on her book. “I don’t know that there’s any peace to be had.”

“There was a peace about you when you talked of chasing the sun with he.”

She shook her head. “But then he chose the darkness. I don’t know that I can save him from that.”

“Maybe you’re not meant to. Maybe you’re meant, instead, to save yourself from the hurt of it.”

“Then, why did the Tides of Time bring him here? I am beginning to feel those tides are torturing me.”

Mr. Pierce put an arm around her shoulder. “If I’d realized him had arrived from another time, I would have asked a lot more questions. I’m sorry I didn’t do more to protect you. I feel I’ve let you down.”

“I have no grandparents.” She looked up at him. “But I have felt these past weeks as though I have one now.”

“I’d be honored to be a grandfather to you, Lili.” A bit of emotion welled in his eyes. “You do this crotchety heart of mine a lot of good.” It was what she’d hoped for, what she’d worked for during the weeks she’d been on Loftstone Island. He patted her hand. “You might go do another heart good just now. Armitage is currently fretting heself near to a panic.”

“What’s happened to him?” She was on her feet in an instant. “Did he have worrisome tidings? Something in the packet from Trinity House that’s upset him? An injury?”

Mr. Pierce laughed quietly. “The two of you will be the death of this old man. You’re here worrying over he. Him’s inside worrying over you. And neither of you realizes it.”

Armitage was worried about her ? She didn’t want to be a source of difficulty for him. “Where inside is he?”

“Up to the lantern room.”

Lili strode to the lightkeepers’ quarters and inside. She slipped her book onto a shelf in the kitchen as she passed through on her way to the lighthouse tower.

She’d not yet been to the top of the tower, and truth be told, she wasn’t certain she was even permitted up there. But Mr. Pierce must have known she would rush to where Armitage was, and he made no effort to stop her as she hurried inside. Her supper would cook for nearly another hour. Time and plenty for making certain her Armitage wasn’t miserable.

She climbed the spiraling stairs upward, ever upward. How the men made this climb so many times every day, she didn’t know. Especially as they would not have the motivation she did in that moment.

The stairs spilled into a large, round, open room. An enormous unlit lamp with a thick wick sat precisely in the center, nearly filling the space. All the walls’ tops were made of triangular sections of glass.

Hunched down on the floor, a tool of some kind in his hand, working at what appeared to be a large bolt, was her Armitage. He had his sleeve rolled back, out of the way of his work. How was it that such strong arms and rough hands had shown themselves to be so gentle?

After a moment, he stood and set the jawed tool on a nearby table.

“Does that have a name like Barry does?” she asked.

He turned immediately. If ever she wondered if she mattered, she would remember the look on his face in that moment. He looked at her as though she were his light in the storm.

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to be inside this room,” she said.

He nodded eagerly and waved her over. “The rules are stricter when the lamp is lit.” He cleaned his hands on a rag.

“I won’t disrupt your work,” she said. “I only wanted to see you.”

“Missed me, did you?” The question held more than a note of flirtation.

Feeling a little mischievous herself, she said, “I assumed you missed me. ”

“I’ve most certainly missed you, darling.”

He’d not ever called her “darling” before. Oh, but she liked it. “Grandfather seemed to think you were having a difficult day.”

“Have you taken to calling he Grandfather?” He smiled. “I think him’s been hoping you would.”

She might not have found peace with Géraud, but these wonderful men of the lighthouse had given her rest from so much that still haunted her. “I have wondered what lighthouse keepers do when on watch.” She looked around the room.

“If us are fortunate, not very much.” He waved her over to the windowed wall. “During daylight, it’s a matter of maintaining and repairing the light. After nightfall, I check the lower light to make certain it is still lit.” He motioned to the tower visible below. “I make certain this light doesn’t go out. And I watch for any ship lights out on the Channel.”

“Does anyone ever stay down at the lower light?” She looked down at it, standing so alone yet stalwart on its outcropping of rock.

“Sometimes.”

She turned back to look over the room again. “I have never seen anyone wear gilets like these.” She pointed at two very odd vests sitting atop a crate against the wall.

“Those are cork vests,” he said.

She’d not heard that term before. “What is the use of them?”

“Flotation. Cork floats on water, and the interior of thissen vests is filled with cork, which allows the person wearing it to float as well.”

To float? Amazement pulling her mouth agape, she asked, “It really does work?”

Armitage nodded. “Them have saved a lot of lives the past couple of decades.”

Vests that allowed a person to float. How very much had changed in eighty years. It was, at times, overwhelming.

Lili turned back toward him again. “You told me that you’d hold me whenever I need you to.”

“I meant it, Lili.”

She closed the distance between them. “I need you to.”

Armitage slipped his arms around her. “I’m sorry your brother rejected your generosity. It was all I could do not to quot after he and shake him about a little.”

Oh, Armitage was good for her heart. “I don’t think it would have helped. Géraud wandered too far down the path he chose. He isn’t the person he used to be. He isn’t the brother who loved me.”

“And I’m sorry for that as well.” He rubbed her back in comforting circles. “I’m sorry you’ve lost family.”

“I need to learn to accept that being family stopped being important to him when his path of vengeance became his priority. I lost my brother, but I never did let myself ... grieve that. There wasn’t enough time and certainly not enough safety.”

“You’ve ample of both now.”

She leaned into his embrace, finding deep comfort in it.

“I know I’ve asked you before,” he said, “but will you be too uncomfortable with he here?”

“I need to learn to think of him as just a chance-met traveler. Once I fully accept that this Géraud is not the same Géraud who was my brother, he’ll not be able to hurt me as he has.”

In a soft and caring voice, Armitage said, “That is easier said than done, my dear.”

My dear. Mon cher .

Lili rose up and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. “Mrs. Willis promised me you would dance with me at the fête if I learned how. I’ve set my heart on it, you know.”

“If you don’t master our dances by then, I’ll simply have to stand about holding you this way.” His chest shook with a laugh. “Won’t that set them tongues waggin’?”

“They love you, Armitage. I don’t know if you truly appreciate how much.”

He sighed a little. “This village became family to me after I lost my parents. Them saw me through the sharpest days and months and years of grief. That bonds people.”

The loss of their parents had, rather, become a wedge between Lili and Géraud.

“Perhaps they can help me through mine.”

His embrace tightened, becoming protective and filled with promise. “You’ve a home on Loftstone Island, Lili. And people who care about you. And love you.”

Despite not being present, Géraud managed to ruin the moment. His words returned unbidden to her thoughts. “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 closed her eyes and slowly breathed. She wouldn’t let herself believe that abandonment lay at the end of this path.

Somehow, she would find a way to explain everything to Armitage, and he would not toss her aside for it. She had lost her parents, her brother, the only time and place she’d ever known. She refused to believe she would lose Armitage as well.