Twin Flames (Twin Flames #1)

Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

M adrid, 1840

After a long and arduous voyage, Cara and George arrived in Madrid.

The air was unseasonably humid for this time of year, remarked George’s old friend, Sebastian. He was the issue of a Spanish mother and an English father and did his utmost to capitalise on his unique heritage.

A couple of days after their arrival, over a late supper, Sebastian filled them in on political events.

‘I don’t believe we’ve seen the end of the civil wars,’ he said.

George was surprised how well-informed Queen Victoria was; he hadn’t yet gleaned anything new.

The Carlist victory had elevated General Espartero to power. The former regent, Maria Cristina: Isabella, the child queen’s mother, had been forced to name the general as president of the government. The pendulum had swung again, and the repercussions could prove fatal for those who fell on the wrong side. They must be cautious, Sebastian warned.

Madrid was a vibrant and exhilarating place, but the tension was palpable. Cara sensed that people viewed them with suspicion, and it took the fun out of exploring the beautiful city. Sebastian had warned them upon arrival that it was unlikely they’d be received warmly by the general after Her Majesty’s government had openly backed the regent.

Maria Cristina had fled, and as Sebastian predicted, George’s request for an audience with the general was rebuffed with no apology. The general was apparently detained on urgent business for the foreseeable future, and the official word was that no audiences were to be granted. Spain was still in a state of war.

‘Britannia may well rule the waves, but she doesn’t rule Spain, old boy. My advice to you is to keep a low profile while you’re in Madrid, and then continue on to Seville as soon as possible, without attracting undue attention. You’ll have more freedom to come and go as you please; it’s a different mentality. In Madrid, we are watched. I have a love-hate relationship with this city.’

‘Why don’t you come back to England? You’d be able to live a peaceful life in London without all of this subterfuge. You have a residence there, do you not?’

‘Yes, I do indeed, and I will visit again soon. But Spain is my home. I will not forsake her. England is like a dull, predictable wife, and Spain my exotic mistress. She’s the love of my life and knows how to hold me effortlessly.’

‘You old Spanish romantic, you. I can’t say that Madrid has seduced me, but I have great hopes of falling in love with Seville. Perhaps I’ll find my exotic mistress there,’ laughed George.

‘I’ll believe that when I see it,’ said Sebastian. ‘I’ve never known a man more besotted than you are with your new wife.’

‘Ah, yes. It’s true. I won’t deny it. I’m a lucky man indeed. She’s the only woman I want. Like you and your fierce loyalty to Spain, my dear fellow.’

‘I envy your steadfastness in love. Us Spaniards are too—how do they say in England—flighty?’

‘Yes, you are a fickle lover Sebastian. I’ve lost count of all the women you’ve been ready to die for in the time we’ve known each other.’

George and his old friend sat and reminisced over a couple of glasses of wine after Cara retired to bed.

Later that evening when Cara and George were finally alone together in their rooms, Cara said, ‘When may we leave for Seville, George? How long must we stay in this feverish city? I do like Sebastian, and it is kind of him to accommodate us, but I’d rather be on our way soon.’

‘I like it here no more than you, my love, but I’m keen to gather information for the queen, and I am cautious to not draw attention to us with such a swift departure. Visitors tend to stay a while when they travel as far as this. We must bide our time and act like the dullards we are not. We’re supposed to be here on business, so I must at least pretend to be conducting some.’

‘I understand. Yes, I confess I’d forgotten about the business cover. I do hope we can leave shortly, though. You should see how the women stare at me. I don’t think we’ll ever blend in here, were we to stay two hundred years. There’s something about this city, no matter its magnificence, that makes me nervous. They don’t trust the English.’

‘They don’t trust anyone; least of all each other. The country has been ripped apart by the bloodshed of civil wars for too many years. Aside from that, my darling, please don’t let standing out concern you. Let me assure you now; you’re never going to blend in anywhere. Personally, I’ll be keeping a watchful eye on the Spanish rogues, not their stout, envious wives who must surely look at you and weep! I can’t say I blame them.’

Cara smiled as she brushed her hair and met her husband’s dancing eyes in the mirror.

‘You really do say the most ridiculous things. I must be cautious not to take your lavish compliments too seriously, or I shall become quite insufferable.’

‘Nonsense, my darling. Every word I utter is God’s own truth.’

She rose from the stool, reached up to drape her arms around George’s neck, and leaned into him.

‘You are the most marvellous man, and I adore you.’ She kissed his lips, and then his hands.

Cara dimmed the lights and climbed into bed. George was about to join her when there was a sharp knock at the door.

‘Whoever can it be at this late hour?’ asked Cara.

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘Yes?’ called George. ‘Coming.’

He opened the door, and Cara heard a muttered exchange as George exited the room.

Several minutes later, he returned, waving a letter, and said, ‘You won’t believe it.’

‘Try me; I wager I will.’

George laughed as he rearranged a stray lock of glossy hair across her shoulder.

‘All right then, if you’re so bold, let’s see if you can guess.’

‘Let me see. Hmm, it’s a letter from Queen Victoria ordering us to leave for Seville at first light.’

‘Um, no. That’s not it although it’s a fair try. It would, however, be physically impossible for a letter to have made it here so quickly unless it had travelled in our luggage!’

‘Oh,’ said Cara. ‘Good point.’

‘In that case, let’s try something more local. It’s an invitation from the child queen, Isabella, appointing you as her English ambassador. In fact, no, I’ve got something better. She wishes you to be the new regent until she’s of age to reign.’

‘Er, no. That’s not it either. I have to say; you do look incredibly pleased with yourself for someone so wrong! I’ll take it that you have run out of sensible answers,’ George laughed.

Cara loved nothing more in the world than to hear her husband laugh.

‘Oh well, come on then, I’m weary at this late hour. Pray, tell me and let’s end the Spanish suspense. I’ve run out of patience not answers if the truth be known. You know I’m very poor at waiting.’

‘Yes, you’re probably the most impatient woman in Spain.’

He climbed into bed, turned her face towards his and kissed her, before relinquishing the letter into her eager hand.

‘Oh, my goodness,’ said Cara, a few seconds later. ‘I wasn’t all that far off, after all! Will we leave for Seville tomorrow?’

Seville, present day

Cara wandered around the nave of the cathedral, unseeing. Panic rose within her and crushed her chest like an iron fist. She had trouble breathing. The all too familiar dreadful feelings threatened to engulf her. Again. It was happening again.

Cheerful, carefree tourists smiled at her. She couldn’t face happy people today. Could they not see that her world had ended?

Perhaps that was why they smiled. They witnessed her pain and tried in their own small way to offer comfort. People were kind, but they didn’t move her today. She wished she were dead. If only someone would shoot her; put her down like an injured animal who couldn’t bear any more pain.

The thought of killing herself crossed her mind. She was thinking the unthinkable. She was thinking the thing that well-balanced people were supposed never to think. You were expected to be strong; to pick yourself up after heartbreak and just carry on.

She had no one and nothing to live for. If she ended it now, it wouldn’t affect the Tudorville timeline, and if George managed to escape, they’d be together there anyway, she reasoned. She had nothing more to lose. Whatever was supposed to happen in 1536 had already happened.

She’d done her best in the present day to rearrange circumstances, and it seemed that George was no worse off. He was better off because he looked happy with Kate. The disruption of the timeline had set him free from his unfulfilling marriage to Joanna. He and Kate had a wonderful life together. Joanna seemed happy with her family, so all was well. No harm had been done. The players were oblivious to the time travel musical chairs which had decided their fate.

George wasn’t in love with her in this formation of events, so he was spared the never-ending heart wrench. She loved him enough to be grateful for that. There was no point in them both suffering. Only her life was a disaster, and she felt sorry for herself today.

She must give him up once and for all. Him being with Kate was a clear message. She wasn’t religious, but since she’d begun time travelling, and through her conversations with Sylvia, she’d come to believe there was a universal power behind the scenes. The Twin Flame journey had shown her that things were rarely as they seemed. But Twin Flames or not, she couldn’t reunite their souls alone.

She must let George go this time. It was not to be. She must accept it was time to call it quits and not be any more of a lovesick fool than she’d already been. Her heart ached at the thought of what would surely be the most daunting challenge yet. She didn’t feel up to it. Death was an alluring alternative to living what must be a bleak forty-years alone, without any hope of his voice, without his presence.

She knew from past attempts that it was no small thing to let him go. She’d lost count of how many times she’d steeled herself to give him up. Her logical mind dictated she should cut him out of her life, but her soul wouldn’t permit it. Her heart had remained open to him no matter what. Each time he’d hurt her, she’d thought it must surely be the final blow. How could she take any more of this agony?

Inevitably she would lash out at him, and they’d spiral into a nightmarish dark pit of heartache and mental anguish.

And then a strange thing happened. They would wake up to the beauty of their unconditional love. She’d see that he never meant to hurt her. She forgave him. He forgave her. It happened simultaneously, as if by magic. And the slate was wiped clean.

Whenever she tried to break it off because it seemed the right thing to do, she’d been unable. Being apart was intolerable for them both. It wasn’t sustainable, so how could it be the right thing? It was an insoluble conundrum. They always found a way back to each other, their bleeding hearts in tatters after the agony of separation.

What would surely have broken another pair of lovers, only served to deepen their connection. Each separation forced them to confront their deepest fear of not being good enough. It was a peeling away of the false layers of ego. Once their disconnected souls were stripped bare, their true nature revealed pure, transcendent love. And they became one, just as they had been in the beginning.

Who could exist without pure love, once tasted? The ordinary would never suffice.

Such was the power of Twin Flames. Cara didn’t understand it, but there was nowhere to run. He was her, and she was him. Killing herself wasn’t the answer. She would pull herself together.

At this moment, she had no desire to live, but she couldn’t hurt her father, and besides, she knew she would only be postponing the inevitable cycle.

She would go back to Tudorville when she was called, and try to save George, as initially planned. The thought of a future life without him was too much for her to contemplate. The present-day would now be different. He wouldn’t be the George who couldn’t live without her. He didn’t even know her. He wouldn’t fight to keep her. It must surely be easier to resist him this time.

Somehow, she would have to make a new life for herself. She had never felt so alone. How could he abandon her? If what Sylvia said was true, George’s soul hadn’t fully awakened, or they would already be together. A flaming rage consumed her, and she blamed him.

She would never love again. He was the only one for her.

Cara stumbled away from what was arguably the most impressive Cathedral in Europe, oblivious to its beauty, as she suffocated beneath a heavy wave of panic. The pain sucked the breath out of her lungs. She collapsed onto a wooden bench, and sobbed, oblivious to the lovers who passed by, hand in hand, their faces aglow in the glorious afternoon sunshine.

Her phone rang. She retrieved it from her handbag and through the haze of tears, saw the call was from an unknown number. She tossed the phone back into her bag. Less than a minute later it rang again. And then again.

‘Hello? Who’s calling please?’ Her tone was clipped. She only answered in case it was an emergency. Misery clawed at her soul, and she had no desire to talk to anyone ever again.

‘Cara? Cara Bailey?’

‘Yes, this is Cara. Who’s speaking?’

And yet even as she said the words, she recognised his voice.

Why was he calling? She mustn’t be drawn in. He had no idea what he was doing. She couldn’t let it happen again, for both of their sakes.

‘This is George. George Cavendish.’

‘George, right. Hello, yes.’

‘You looked unwell, and we noticed you disappeared. I wanted to call and make sure you’re okay. Kate tells me I can be a bit dense about this kind of thing, but she doesn’t miss a trick. Are you all right?’

‘Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye,’ she lied. ‘It was rude, but I had an urgent message from the office and had to get back.’

She needed to end the call. Hearing him talk affectionately about Kate was too much to bear.

‘Oh dear, sorry to hear that. Nothing too terrible, I hope.’

‘Just an unexpected hiccup with a client which I must attend to. I’ll get the first flight out in the morning.’

‘I see.’

George sounded disappointed.

‘Would you like to get together for a quick drink this evening and we can discuss the business you wanted to see me about? I’m intrigued. Will you give me a clue?’

Cara’s heart somersaulted. This was unfair. This was bloody unfair. How was she supposed to resist him? She couldn’t manage to avoid him, even when he didn’t know who she was!

Tears clogged her throat, and her head ached from sobbing. He mustn’t know she was falling apart or he would suspect something. And what the hell was he coming on to her for when he was married to gorgeous Kate? Maybe she’d been wrong all along, and he was just an incorrigible cheat. Maybe what they had wasn’t special at all.

‘It’s nothing terribly exciting, I’m afraid. I recently came across a manuscript which belonged to your family and dates back to the Tudor period.’ Somehow, she managed to enunciate the words.

‘Oh yes, of course. I should have realised by your business card. The manuscript is the pride of the family. Not that I know much about it but I’d be happy to help you in any way I can. Kate knows a lot about our family history, but I’m afraid she had to leave for Madrid after the party.’

‘Oh, too bad. Unfortunately, I’ll need to take a rain check as I have a conference call this evening and have to be up early for the flight.’

What a deceitful toad. Kate had only just turned her back, and here he was asking her out for drinks. She was beginning to think she’d had a lucky escape in this timeline.

‘Oh, what a shame. Okay well, no problem. I know how rushed these business trips can be. I have a breakfast meeting at the airport tomorrow so how about I pick you up from your hotel and that way we get to chat in the car? It’s the least I can do. What time is your flight?’

It sounded like a bad idea, but she couldn’t think straight, and a coherent refusal wouldn’t form on her lips. She mumbled her flight time, and she heard him making plans to pick her up at the hotel. It felt as though she was underwater and couldn’t come up for air. Finally, she heard herself say, ‘Okay, great, I’ll see you then.’

Oh my God, what had she done? Was she completely insane? It was as though she’d had no control over her words. She stood up, brushed the leaves off her jeans and wiped her eyes with a tissue. She must look a right state. All of this was beyond her.

She would see him tomorrow; one last time. There was a renewed bounce to her step as she walked back to the hotel in the gentle evening sunshine. Joy flickered in her sore heart. She could breathe again.

George said goodbye, grateful he’d managed to arrange to see her again. Honestly, he wasn’t interested in the manuscript but he’d not been able to stop thinking about the slim, vivacious brunette who’d disappeared so suddenly that afternoon.

There was something about her which made him feel alive.

The Tower of London, 1536

At first light, Cara and Swifty huddled against the chill wind in the bottom of the small rowing boat. The dark water of the River Thames lapped gently against the stone walls of the Tower. Cara could hardly draw breath, such was the suspense.

‘Can you see any sign of them with your sharp eyes, Swifty?’

‘No, my lady. Nothing stirs at Cradle Tower.

Cara sighed. They should be leaving by now. Every second they delayed increased the risk of them being spotted.

‘I don’t understand. Edward was supposed to exit the window with George immediately. Whatever can be holding them up?’

She could just make out Swifty’s forlorn expression. His face held no answers.

‘Are you absolutely sure you secured the rope in place so they would be able to grab it as they opened the window?’ said Cara.

‘Yes, I did exactly as you and Edward bid. The rope is ready. I can see it being blown about by the wind, from here.’

‘Well, all that is left to us is to wait a bit more. If they’re not out soon, we’ll need to leave, or we’ll be arrested in vain.’

They sat in sombre silence. The plan had seemed foolproof, but something must have gone awry. Cara was frightened that Edward had fallen under suspicion. It was awful enough they hadn’t broken George out, but now it looked as though Edward would be captured too. He’d entered the Tower under the disguise of a priest from York who at George’s request would prepare him to make peace with his impending death. The Tower official had permitted him to send Swifty to bring the priest who waited nearby in the city.

‘Look, look,’ said Swifty, pointing up at the Cradle Tower. ‘Do you see?’

‘No. What?’ asked Cara.

‘Someone is waving the white cloth at the window as you instructed.’

Cara’s spirits dipped yet further. That was it then—it was over. She saw the flash of white material.

‘We must leave without them. Swifty, push us off from the wall to get us going. Let’s take it in turns to row; I’ll go first.’

She rowed as fast as she could, but at times it seemed as though they made barely any progress. Voices echoed from a distance around the eerie, dark river banks. It wouldn’t be long before the sun rose high in the sky and the place buzzed with morning activity.

Cara concentrated on moving the oars to block out her gloomy thoughts. She didn’t want to leave George and Edward behind, but if they too were caught, none of them would have any chance of escape.

May’s sweet face beseeched her to come home and spurred her on as exhaustion mounted until they had put a fair distance between themselves and King Henry VIII.

‘Swifty, you take over for a bit. I thought we’d be rowing out to meet the trawler, to head for France, but now we must remain in London. Look out for the next spot where we can moor the boat. We may still use it.’

Swifty nodded, eager to please. He would row around the world for his mistress.

Cara leaned against the side of the boat to recover her strength. Their only hope of freeing George was if the Tower guards suspected nothing. If that was the case, they might get a second chance.

She must learn what had become of Edward.