Chapter 9

Charles sat hunched over on his bed, his head resting in his hands. He hadn't believed it at first, that she was gone. He had run upstairs when he and Finley were finally worn out from fighting, and he had realized that she was no longer in sight.

He first went to his room, expecting to find her there, wanting to wrap her in his arms and tell her that his brother didn't mean the things he said. But when she wasn't there, he thought she might be sulking in her own room sulking. She wasn't there either.

Instantly sensing that something was wrong, he ran through the halls opening doors and shouting for her. He went back to his own room, though he already knew she wasn't there, it was instinctual for him to look there when he wanted to find her.

"Cynara," he shouted, but there was no answer. Running down the stairs he saw a dejected looking Finley sitting pensively in his study.

Forgetting their recent fight, Charles implored his brother, "I can't find Cynara. Have you seen her?"

Finley was instantly on his feet, forgetting every petty thing that had made him so angry before, the way people were wont to do in the event of an emergency. And the look on Charles's face warranted the belief that this was an emergency. Still, Finley tried to keep his brother calm.

"Now there's no need to panic. Where could she have gone?" Finley said coming from behind his desk to stand before his brother assuredly.

Charles shook his head hopelessly. Finley took charge of the situation and marched out of the room, spotting Jasmine walking by, heading to the servants' stairs.

"Jasmine," he stopped her.

"Yes sir?" she said, turning to look at Finley expectantly.

"Have you seen Cynara?"

The girl's eyebrows came together in confusion, "No sir, not since this morning. Why? Is she missing?"

"Yes, it looks that way. Notify the servants to look through the house and grounds. She probably is just off strolling somewhere, but just to be sure hmm?"

"Yes, right away sir," Jasmine nodded before rushing off the way she was going.

"See, if she's on the property the servants will find her in no time," Finley reassured his brother.

"But what if she's not on the property?" Charles remained unconvinced, "I'm going to go check the stables to see if maybe she took a horse," he said then hurried off.

All the horses had been there, and the servants' search had come up empty handed. Ashton and Sanford had worriedly helped look when they had come home and found the house in such a commotion. Charles had even ridden over to Jane's house, but she hadn't been there.

Now Charles sat alone on his bed. Her sent was still in the room, but fading ever so slightly. She hadn't taken a horse, so she must have left on foot. But the servants would have found her if she had, for she couldn't have walked very far so quickly.

She had left just as mysteriously as she had come, probably back to wherever she had come from. Was she even real?

"Charlie?" he heard a hesitant voice at the door.

"Don't call me that," Charles ordered. No one had called him Charlie before Cynara had come, always Charles.

Finley nodded understandingly, but Charles wasn't looking at him.

Finley slowly walked into the room and sat down on the bed next to his brother, "She'll be back," he said, but there was no confidence in his voice.

Charles didn't look up. He didn't know how long they sat there in silence before Finley spoke again.

"I'm so sorry, Charles," his voice full of remorse.

Charles finally looked up at his brother. "Don't say that."

"It's my fault she left. I scared her away," Finley said with self derision, "I should never have yelled at her like that."

Charles was shaking his head before his brother even finished speaking, "No Finley. Cynara wouldn't have run away over something like that, so don't blame yourself. She left simply because she didn't want to be here anymore." His voice was too calm, like it was taking all his strength to keep it that way.

He stood up then and walked out of the room, not looking back at his brother. Why had he taken it for granted that she was there to stay? It was so obvious now why she had refused to marry him, she knew that she was going to leave. But why? Why had she come? It didn't make any sense. Then again, nothing about her had made any sense.

She could have at least said goodbye, Charles thought irately, she owed him at least that much. But he knew why she hadn't, he wouldn't have let her go.

Cynara let the warm water of the shower run over her drained body. She remembered a time when she had wondered if she could give up all these modern conveniences to live in the eighteen hundreds, but now it seemed like a joke. She would give up anything just to have Charlie hold her again.

It had been a week since Cynara's reentry into modern times. She shuddered to think back to that first night, the overwhelming despair she had felt then. She had just wanted to dye on that bed, then at least her ghost would be with Charlie's.

That was her initial plan, but then for some reason she came to her senses. Nothing was set in stone. The universe wouldn't be so cruel as to give her such a wonderful gift only to take it away again. She had stubbornly shook off her tears, gotten out of bed, and vowed to never let herself give up like that again.

She had gone back to Margrave Manor everyday since. The people working there had taken to the enthusiastic young American, treating her like a stray dog of sorts. Cynara took the tours from each one of the tour guides at least once, and asked endless questions until she had sucked out all the possible information she could from them.

She spent most of her time in Charles's room, looking for signs of his ghost. Sometimes she would think that she got a whiff of his smell, or would hear his voice, but it was always so faint she often thought that she might have imagined it.

When she wasn't at Margrave Manor, she was at home reading about life in regency England. She was going back, and when she did she wanted to be prepared. She briefly thought about what modern inventions she could take back that might be useful, but then quickly decided against it. If she tried to exploit the universe like that, it might not let her travel through time again. It would be enough if she just got back herself.

Cynara turned off the water and dried herself off. Pulling on jeans and a shirt she was ready for her routine.

She called her parents to tell them she loved them, and that she was having a great time. If this was the day she went back, she wanted to at least giver her parents that much of a goodbye. When she hung up the phone she fingered the letter she had written and left with her stuff, after she disappeared again, her parents would find it and at least know that she was okay.

"Hey Wes," she greeted the man behind the counter as she walked into the house. He looked to be in his fifties, just starting to get gray hairs and full of worry lines.