Falling Stars

She was no longer uncomfortable with him. She shared her own observations and gossip and jokes, and her face lit up with glee when they launched into an argument. Twice when she’d been busy at some task and the twins had repeatedly interrupted with their squabbles, Christina had distractedly waved them away and told them to go bother Mr. Greyson.

Most encouraging of all was a minor episode the night before Christmas Eve, when they were preparing to leave for a musicale at the Nichol’s. The clasp of her pearl necklace came undone as Marcus was helping her with her wrap. Though Penny stood only a few feet away, Christina turned to Marcus to refasten the pearls.

She was beginning to take him for granted, he reflected happily the next morning when he came down to breakfast. She wasn’t simply getting used to his being there; she was beginning to count on it.

His pleased grin faded when he discovered only Julius at the breakfast table.

“Where is—where are the ladies?” Marcus asked.

“Where do you think? It’s Christmas Eve day. They’re locked in the sitting room amid a heap of silver tissue and ribbons. They’re wrapping gifts this morning because there won’t be time this afternoon,” Julius elucidated. “We’re taking the children to play with another thousand little beasts at Alistair House.”

“No one mentioned Alistair House to me,” said Marcus, moving to the sideboard.

“They’ll probably spring it on you at the last minute. But you needn’t come. It’s meant mainly for the children, and very exciting it is, too: a fir tree in the hall, lit with candles, with a lot of gaudy trinkets and ribbons hanging in the boughs. I suppose we’ll have to do it next year. The Duchess of York’s German customs appear to have taken permanent hold. I wonder how many houses will burn down before we adopt a less hazardous foreign custom.”

“I think it’s an excellent custom,” said Marcus. Next Christmas he would have a tree lit with candles, he decided. There would be a silver star at the top, and a lot of shiny geegaws hanging from the boughs. And angels. Three golden-haired angels in the tree. He had seen some in a shop in Paris. They had tiny golden halos and gossamer silk wings and gold threads in their snow white robes.

He brought his plate to the table and sat down. “I’ll have to be excused from Alistair House,” he said. “I’ve something to do in Bath.”

“Something,” Julius repeated expressionlessly. “You are too confiding, Marcus. You must try for more self-restraint. Though I am your brother, you really needn’t tell me everything.”

“I beg your pardon, Julius. I shall try to contain myself in future.” Grinning, Marcus took up his knife and fork.

***

By eleven o’clock that night, they gave up waiting for Marcus and prepared to go to church.

The twins were beside themselves. They had been looking for him and asking for him since they’d returned from Alistair House. They had refused to nap because he hadn’t come to wish them happy dreams—which meant, according to Delia, that they would have horrid ones. Because they hadn’t napped, they were contrary and petulant.

After a lengthy struggle, Christina got them into their coats, mittens, and bonnets.

“But we can’t go now, Mama,” Delia wailed as Christina led them to the door.

Livy tugged at her mother’s coat. “Can’t we wait a little more? Can’t I wait for him?”

“No, I’ll wait,” said Delia. “You go to church with Mama and I’ll come later with Mr. Greyson.”

“No one will wait,” said Christina. “Mr. Greyson is perfectly capable of getting to midnight services by himself, if he wishes to. Come along. The others are already in the carriage, and Kit and Robin’s papa is waiting in the cold.”

“It isn’t fair, Mama.”

“Mr. Greyson will be all by himself. Maybe he won’t know where we are.”

“He’ll be sad, Mama.”

“He might be lost. Maybe we should look for him.”

Christina knew it was no use trying to reason with them. If she was going to get them to midnight services, she must be an utterly heartless mama. She hustled them to the carriage and ordered them in. As they sulkily obeyed, she turned to apologize to Julius for keeping him waiting.

“I was happy to wait,” he said gallantly. “It gave me an opportunity to gaze at the heavens and be properly awed.”

Christina looked up. It had snowed off and on during the day, but the sky was rapidly clearing, the last wispy clouds chased by a brisk wind. It was an awe-inspiring sight, as Julius said. The heavens stretched out like a robe of blue-black velvet set with countless winking diamonds.

“The angels are putting the stars back,” she murmured. “How busy they must be, and yet so careful. There is Orion, precisely as he always is, with three stars in his belt, and there—”

She caught her breath as a star shot past the astral hunter and down, to disappear behind the fir trees.

“A falling star,” she said softly. “Isn’t that—”

“There’s another,” Julius said.

There was another and another, a shower of falling stars, all dropping behind the fir trees that surrounded the old gatehouse. But of course they hadn’t. It only looked that way.

All the same, her flesh prickled. She thought of angels dropping stars that turned into diamonds. She took a step away from the carriage, then another. She looked at Julius.

“I can’t go to church,” she said. “I have something to do.”

“Something,” he repeated. “Yes, of course. Some of us have something to do and some of us haven’t. I beg you will not tell me what it is. I had much rather die of suspense.” He made an elegant bow. “Good night, my dear. I shall see you... eventually, I trust.”

“You’re very understanding, Julius.”

“I’m one of the two most understanding fellows in England.” He smiled and climbed into the carriage.

Blushing, Christina hurried back to the house.

***

Marcus reached the house not long after the others had left. He had scoured Bath without finding the angels he wanted. As a result, he had spent a great deal of money and waited a great many hours while a doll maker transformed a trio of tiny china dolls according to Marcus’s specifications. He would have reached Greymarch in time for dinner if he hadn’t come across a carriage accident and decided to be a good Samaritan.

Still, he did have the angels, and if he made a push, he could join the others before the midnight service ended. He gave the packages to the footman with orders to put them in his bedchamber.

Marcus was moving to the front door when his glance lit upon a side table. A hymnal lay upon it.

“Mrs. Travers forgot her hymnal,” he said.

“Oh, Mrs. Travers didn’t go to church, sir,” the footman said. “She said she had a headache. She went out a few minutes ago to take a turn about the garden. She said a short walk in the cold air often helps.”

Marcus changed direction and headed for the ballroom, whose French doors opened onto the terrace. From the terrace, he surveyed the formal gar-dens. There was no sign of her.

Out of the corner of his eyes he caught a flash of something, but when he looked that way it was gone. The wind rustled the leaves of the rhododendrons.

“Christina?”

Where in blazes was she? Where could she have gone in the dead of night, in the dead of winter?

Tonight, Christina. It must be tonight.

He shook his head, but the recollection wouldn’t be shaken off. Then it began again: the past crowding into his mind and tangling with the present as it had done two weeks ago, before they laid the ghosts to rest.

Run away with me, Christina.

“No, I’m going to do it right this time,” he muttered. “Courting and a church wedding and—”

Meet me at the gatehouse at midnight. Promise.

Yes, I’ll be there. I promise.

His gaze moved to the fir forest where the old gatehouse lay hidden from view... where

the flash had come from.

She couldn’t be there. He was losing his mind— which was hardly surprising. These last ten days of keeping his hands to himself were taking their toll. He was probably going mad with frustration.

All the same, he couldn’t keep himself from hurrying through the garden and down the path to the stream, then across the narrow bridge. He broke into a run when he reached the path leading to the gatehouse. It was nearly midnight. He couldn’t be late, he thought wildly. He didn’t know why. All he knew was that he mustn’t, couldn’t be late.

He reached the clearing just as the village church tolled the first stroke of midnight. A lantern stood on the stone ledge of the gatehouse window.

A figure stood in the shadow of the doorway.

He raced across the clearing and swept her into his arms.

***

If she had taken leave of her senses, Christina reflected a while later, at least she wasn’t the only one.

They should have simply returned to the main house. But she had shown him the gatehouse key she’d stolen from Julius’s desk, and Marcus had unlocked the door and taken her inside. Then, because she was shivering, he had built a fire. She wasn’t at all surprised that the place was well stocked with coal, and not at all amazed to see the stack of blankets and cushions heaped near the hearth, just as though she and Marcus had been expected. This night, she could believe anything.

It also seemed the most natural thing in the world to be snuggled cozily with him in front of the fire. It was right that she should be in his arms, her head resting on his chest while she tried to explain how she had come to be there.

She didn’t even try to make up a face-saving excuse. She couldn’t think why she needed to save face.

“There were stars falling,” she told him. “It was a shower of stars... and I just had to come... to find diamonds, perhaps... or maybe it was myself I came to find.”

“Yourself?”

“From long ago. I did what was best then, I know, because it was hopeless for us. And my life hasn’t been empty or miserable. I haven’t been pining for you all this time. I was a good wife, and fond of Arthur, and content, and I had two children to love frantically. And yet tonight it seemed... it was as though I left some part of myself behind that night ten years ago. And I think it was the girl who loved you and wanted to follow you to the ends of the earth.”

“And did you find her?” he asked softly.

“Yes.”

“Will she follow me to the ends of the earth?”