Page 61 of Across Eternity

“It was more than that,” I reply. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He holds my gaze. “What aren’t you telling me?” he asks in turn. I see hurt in his eyes and look away. I wish, so badly, that I could answer.

* * *

In the middle of March, a letter arrives for Marie. She tears it open right there in the doorway, and then staggers backward, holding onto the small table in the entryway for support.

“Marie?” I ask. “What is it?”

Her eyes fill. “Edouard’s been sent away,” she whispers.

Henri’s head jerks toward her. “Sent away where?”

“They wouldn’t tell him,” she says, staring at the words on the paper as tears fall freely. “He says a priest from Reims arrived this morning to take him to see the monsignor in Paris, and he was told to pack his things.”

Henri rises, flinching as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Slowly, his eyes go to hers. “Why,” he asks, with something unhappy and dangerous in his voice, “would he write you personally about this? Because Edouard must have done something wrong to be sent away like that, and it seems very suspect that he found time to write you, of all people.”

She raises her head from her hands. “You’re still married and living in sin with another woman! How dare you judge anything he does?”

“I’m not a priest,” he says, nostrils flaring. “And your overreaction right now leads me to think he wasn’t acting like much of a priest himself.”

She raises her chin. “He loves me,” she says. “He asked the church to replace him here so we could be together. There’s no shame in it.”

Henri holds a hand to his forehead, appalled. “God, Marie,” he says softly. “He’s a grown man. He didn’t need to ask anyone’s permission to be with you if that’s what he wanted. Did he...take liberties?”

Tears stream down her face. “You just don’t understand! I knew you wouldn’t!”

“Answer the question,” he demands between his teeth. “Did he, or did he not, take liberties?” He makes no effort to disguise the violence underlying the question.

“No,” she says, and then she runs from the room and up the stairs, weeping and heartbroken.

“Dieu,” says Henri, collapsing onto the couch. He glances up at me. “Did you have any idea?”

I bite my lip. “I suspected. She’s been in love with him for a long time.”

His jaw falls open. “And you didn’t tell me? If I’d had even a hint I’d have put a stop to it, believe me. And if I discover he laid a finger on her I’ll see that he regrets it.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, it’s truly astonishing that I didn’t run right to you with my suspicions. You’re handling it so well.”

“How am I supposed to handle it?” he exclaims. “I’ve dedicated most of my adult life to keeping my sister safe and hidden so she can fulfill the prophecy, only to discover the parish priest has been wooing her and making false promises before he left town! What if they’d run off together? What happens to your precious circle of light then?”

I know he’s just frustrated, and worried, but none of that will help the situation. “First of all, it’s not my circle of light. If you’ll recall, I’m not even interested in time travel. Second, what you and your mother wanted was for her to be able to make her decisions without influence or pressure or baggage, and that’s what she did, didn’t she? Or did you only want her to make decisions influenced by you?”

“He’s a priest,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “If she’s been carrying on with a priest then perhaps she needs me to influence her decisions. But you just expect me to say nothing?”

“What good would it do at this point anyway? Edouard is gone.”

He leans forward, his forearms to his knees, and stares at his clasped hands. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it,” he admits. “We’ve been in this little bubble, you and me and Cece. Marie’s been a ghost here for months and I’ve been so focused on my own happiness I didn’t notice.”

I squeeze his hand. “She didn’t need you to notice, nor would she have wanted you to. She isn’t as fragile as you believe, and she deserved a chance to lead a life of her own design for once. She still does.”

He sighs. “Fine. But if I find out they had relations, Edouard is a dead man.”

I restrain a smile. “Yes, relations before marriage would be appalling. Something you would never do.”

He narrows his eyes. “It’s different with us. I’m not a priest. And I would marry you tomorrow if I could.”

“It sounds as if Edouard would marry Marie as well.”