Page 9 of The Uprising
‘That’s a good question. I speak to you so because I’m wondering whether your day was spent in Marianne’s arms. Did you have a gratifying time in her warm bed? I’m surprised you have returned home at all.’
‘What the devil are you talking about, woman?’ George looked genuinely puzzled. I’ve spent a long, exhausting day meeting with various ill-tempered parties, in an effort to find a way to quell the ongoing uprising. I accompanied the king at his request because trouble stirs again in the north and he wished to take advice.’
‘And what of your mistress, Marianne? Was she unavailable today?’
'I don't know what’s got into you. I'm weary, and now I'm angry, so I'm going to rid myself of these cold, wet garments, and trust that your pleasant nature will be restored by the morning.'
George stalked from the room as Cara choked, and began to sob and gasp. The tears flooded her eyes and slid down her cold cheeks. She suspected by the violent way he had responded that there was truth in her allegation, and he merely sought to buy time to come up with a plausible excuse. She had never confronted him in that accusatory manner in Tudorville; there had never been any need. His evasive tone was reminiscent of the present-day George, when they used to argue about their impossible situation.
The agony ripped through her chest and permeated her being. Her emotions were raw, and the trauma of the past hurt still lingered in her soul and resurfaced to haunt her whenever she relived that heart shattering period.
They had been Twin Flames destined to reunite, and as such, there were constant challenges designed for their souls to fully realise their potential. She had allowed herself to believe they had completed that painful cycle and had reached the state of union.
When the timeline reset, they had been free to be together. It was a glorious time, but now it was over. And their Tudorville marriage which had seemed blessed from the start; one of divine love, was now being tested.
How could he cheat on her when she was waiting at Willow Manor?
Visions of the recent lonely months at their York home, worrying and waiting for news of him, filled her mind.
Cara dragged herself out of the chair and curled up on the four-poster bed. She pulled the sheet over her head and continued to sob quietly. Her intuition told her there was more to this than she knew, but why would he not explain?
She had learned from past experiences that things were rarely as they seemed, but God how it hurt. The thought of him with another woman, after all they had been through, sliced into her soul and the pain was visceral. As she drifted off into a numb sleep, she felt the freezing icy chill of the vortex envelop her. And she was gone. Again.
George stripped off his dirty, wet clothing in the other room, sipped a cup of small ale, and folded his weary body into a chair.He would leave Cara to simmer down. No good would come of him entering their bedchamber now, no matter how much he longed to lie down next to her and enjoy the solace of her company.
He was shocked, and his resentment smouldered at the thought of how she had verbally attacked him and unleashed her wrath. He’d never seen her in such a violent rage. It was no good. He was too upset to join her, so he sat alone, nursing his warm ale for hours as the still night merged with the wispy dawn air.
He couldn’t bear hurting her, and yet he had been tempted by the beautiful Marianne when he was lonely. What a fool he’d been to think she wouldn’t hear the inevitable gossip in this venom-filled palace.
He finally drifted off to sleep in the early hours, gloomy and wretched, and desperately wondering if the new day would offer a solution to make things right with his beloved wife.
Chapter 4
York - Present day
Cara didn't know what to make of it. How she wished she hadn't been drawn back to Tudorville. If only she hadn’t overheard that awful conversation, she’d still be in sweet oblivion, and her heart wouldn’t have split open like a gaping wound.
Her memory was updating fast with the frequent to-ing and fro-ing between timelines, but she didn’t know what she didn’t know.
Cara sighed and sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, feeling defeated and wondering what to do next. Resolved, she stood and stepped into a pair of fitted, soft blue jeans and pulled her favourite grey roll-neck over her head. A quick look in the mirror; satisfied, she headed downstairs to find George brewing more coffee.
‘How was your shower?’
‘Good, thanks.’ Cara looked at him and bit her lip. But it was no good she couldn’t restrain herself. ‘How could you do it?’
‘Do what?’ he asked.
‘Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean.’ Her eyes were misty, but she stayed strong.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ George’s defensive tone reappeared. ‘Cara, you can’t hold me responsible for what Tudorville George did. He is—was—a man of his time.’
‘So you say, but I don't get it. I can't believe you—he—whoever…had the audacity to take a mistress when I was pining at Willow Manor. It just doesn’t seem like something he would do.’
George busied himself pouring the coffee and slid a cup along the kitchen counter towards her.
Cara continued, ‘Perhaps heartbreak triggers my time travel and that’s why I moved in and out of the timelines so much last year.’
She could sense George’s irritation rising. They would need to deal with this unpleasant situation. It wouldn’t disappear on its own if he had indeed betrayed her, no matter how many hundreds of years ago.
