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Marcus touched the hooks over the fireplace
“This is where we kept un,” Marcus said He rested his hands on the mantel “My mother’s clock sat here She was probably buried with it, or else she left it to Patience”
Phoebe slid her arms around Marcus’s waist froainst his back She could feel her mate’s pain, but she could also hear the bittersweet note in his voice as Marcus reainst his spine
Marcus placed an old book on the ers caressed the covers for ain the nearby corner
“Philippe’s chair,” he said in a tone of disbelief
Phoebe recognized the old, blue-painted chair with the curved, frondlike volutes at the ends of the crest rail, the gracefully tapered legs, and the substantial saddle seat It was always in the same spot in Philippe’s study at Sept-Tours, and Phoebe had never seen anyone sit in it, in spite of its sturdy construction The paint on the arn that it had once been in constant use
An envelope addressed to Marcus was propped against the finely turned spindles
Marcus frowned and reached for the letter He slit the top with his finger and pulled out the single page
“Philippe would want you to have his chair,” Marcus read aloud “So would Dr Franklin Remember we are not far away, if you have need of us Your father, Matthew”
Diana had et to their house in New Haven, which parts of the route were likely to be difficult in snoeather, and every phone number where she and Matthew could be reached—just in case
“I’htly awed by his new possession
“If you don’t, I will,” Phoebe said with a laugh “Ysabeau told ht it was the most comfortable chair in the world”
Marcus s the arm rest “I must say it suits this house better than it ever did Sept-Tours”
Phoebe thought it suited Marcus, too
Back in the front hall, Marcus stared at the newel post at the bottoed coastline They clihtly under their weight The two rooms upstairs were unfinished, with simple boards laid across bea to hide the walls’ construction Between the clapboards you could see a few glints of sunlight
“Which room was yours?” Phoebe asked
“This one,” Marcus said, pointing to the room over the kitchen “Ma insisted we sleep here, because it armer”
The room was eh it belonged to a weather vane
“It’snext to the
“Do we needthe house with fresh paint on the inside, the panes of glass clean and glea the house with homely sounds and scents
“Neither of these rooms have doors” Marcus’s eyes darted around the rooet a bed up here”
“What does that hed “We don’t sleep, remember?”
“That’s not the only thing beds are good for,” Marcus said, his voice lower and more intense than usual He pulled Phoebe into a kiss that was deeply possessive Had she still been a warmblood, it would have left her breathless
But there was no rush for them to make love They had hours and hours left in the day, and no need to look for food or shelter or warh
“Let’s go look at the barn,” Phoebe said, drawing away and leading him back toward the stairs
They stepped outside the kitchen door that led out back—it would need to be planed at the bottom to ood thing they were vampires, and ih to keep out the chill for er How had Marcus’s family survived a Massachusetts winter with only that thin door between them and the snow and the wind?
Marcus stopped in his tracks
Phoebe looked back at hinized this spot It was etched in Marcus’s blood, just like the coastline of America was on the newel post on the stairs
“Youto his side “It had to be done”
“Hey!” A woray and she earing an apricot-colored shirt and white cropped trousers as though she were about to go on holiday in the Caribbean “You two are trespassing Get out of here, or I’ll call the cops”
“I’m Marcus MacNeil I own this place” His true naue Phoebe blinked, used to thinking of him as Marcus Whitmore
“Well, it’s about time you showed up Every year people come and clear the snow, and mow the hay, and make sure the roof hasn’t collapsed, but a house doesn’t like to be eh wire-rihbor Mrs Judd Who’s she?”
“I’m Marcus’s fiancée” Phoebe tucked her hand into Marcus’s elbow
“Are you two planning on living here now?” Mrs Judd looked them both over “It would be awfully hard work to make this house habitable It’s not connected to the sewer, or the power grid, for starters Of course, nothing worth doing is ever easy”
“You’re right,” Marcus said
“There are lots of stories about this place, you know Somebody found a hue elm tree “They say the split in the door was made in one of the last Indian raids And the cellar is definitely haunted”
“How enchanting,” Phoebe said brightly, wishing this busybody would leave off the spooky stories until they got to know her better
“You sound foreign,” Mrs Judd said suspiciously
“English,” Phoebe replied
“I knew you were different” On this rather a enough “I’ to spend Labor Day at the Cape within my mail? Oh—and if you could feed my cat, I’d appreciate it Just leave food out on the back porch She’ll find it if she’s hungry”
Without waiting for a reply, Mrs Judd trod off in the direction of home
Marcus wrapped his ar a bit fast, which put their bloodsongs out of sync “I’ood idea”
“I ahed happily “I choose you, Marcus MacNeil I choose this place I choose to wake up here tohosts, with no electricity and a falling-down barn”
Phoebe held Marcus until his blood stopped racing and their hearts were beating to the same rhythm
Evermore
“I’m sure you never dreamed we’d end up here,” Marcus said “It’s not exactly a beach in India”
“No,” Phoebe confessed, thinking of Pickering Place with its elegant furniture, and the grandeur of Sept-Tours Then she looked back at the MacNeil house She thought of all that had been lost within its walls, and all the joys that ht be found there
“I didn’t realize how much this place still mattered to me,” Marcus said
They stood, hands entwined, and looked over the faro, and which was now his Hers Theirs
“Welcome home,” Phoebe said
Ever their two hearts
Evermore
s touched the hooks over the fireplace