His Captive Mate

Chapter 1 – Celine (Fifteen Years Ago)

“Are you sure you want it that short?” Eloise asks her niece looking at her in the mirror.

“I’m very sure, Auntie; I’m fourteen today and you promised me a haircut. I chose this one.” Celine turns around in the old but sturdy wooden chair. It wobbles gently on the slightly uneven flagstones that cover the floor in this small stone-built cottage’s kitchen. Celine currently has wavy dark-blonde hair down to the middle of her back, and while she has loved having long hair, it was time for a change.

She bats her eyelashes, and her large grey eyes look pleadingly at her aunt. She was now five-three, and her father says she will likely grow another few inches before she stops growing. She had a small straight nose, and bow shaped lips that were naturally a dark-pink colour. The small cottage is a second home to Celine, her aunt Eloise and uncle Michel had helped to raise her after her mother had died and her father, Anton, had needed some time to grieve his loss.

Celine reaches for the electronic tablet with the picture she had chosen to show her aunt how she’d like her hair cut. The picture is of a choppy pixie cut. “And when it’s cut, can we dye it?” Celine gave her aunt the biggest puppy dog eyes she could muster. Her aunt chuckles,

“Yes, we are dying it, Celine. The box you chose is in the bathroom ready for us when we’re done here. But I’m not cutting your hair upstairs, that bathroom is too small for that.” Celine grins and Eloise laughs good-naturedly. “I did promise after all, now face forward and sit still before I cut your ears.” Celine quickly obeys.

Eloise was five-ten and a tall, thin woman, greying at the temples of her long hair that she wore in a braid most days. She was a lot older than her niece, at ninety-five years old, but she still looked to be around forty. Eloise was her father’s sister and while they got on most of the time, Eloise would often give Anton a hard time about Celine and the distance he kept from her.

One night, when she was very small, she peeked out of the window of the small cottage and saw them talking.

“Anton, she needs her father.” Eloise mutters, trying not to let Celine hear. All too often the adults would try and talk away from her, but she’d still listen in when she could. Her father sighs.

“I know Eloise, but she looks so much like her. Nicolette is gone, and I have Celine, whom I love with all of my heart and soul. Some days I can barely breathe because of how much they are alike.” He sags onto the low wall surrounding the porch of Eloise and Michel’s home. “There are days I can’t bear to be apart from her, and others I’d run for the hills if I could.” Eloise sighs,

“Michel and I know this, and we are happy for her to stay here with us, you know that. But she still needs you.” She studies him as he refuses to look at her, “Enough, come and eat with us, then return to the château if that is what you wish. It’s her birthday, you can’t just not be here tonight.”

She turns and leaves him on the porch, heading back into the warmth of the kitchen. Celine drops from the window and runs to her aunt, grinning. Eloise picks her up, resting her on her hip. Celine had a pretty cardboard hat with a number five on. She takes her to the lounge where her uncle is putting on the record player. The soft crackling from the gramophone playing ‘À bicyclette’ by Bourvil. He holds out his hands to her,

“Come on, Celine. Dance with your uncle.” She nods and wriggles out of her aunt’s grip to go to him; he gets her feet balanced on his and starts swaying around in circles with her. She grins and giggles up at him, hoping her father would be here this time. He’d missed so many events this year. She hears his footsteps in the kitchen and drops her uncle’s hands to run for him, she wraps her pudgy arms around his legs, apparently startling him,

“Papa, you came!” Celine beams up at him, he smirks down at her and nods,

“Yes, my darling girl. I wouldn’t have missed this.” It takes a few minutes for his smile to reach his eyes.