Chapter 7

The play was a great success; Catherine’s prediction that it would all go off without a hitch since the rehearsal went so badly came true. She was ready with her copy of the play to prompt when needed, but no one needed it. Their timing was right on and thanks to the classical education everyone Below received, everyone got all the jokes and laughed in all the right places. The actors were floating on clouds when everyone met afterward in the dining chamber for snacks and drinks. Father, especially was very pleased with the finished product.

After everyone was congratulated all around, Vincent led the troupe back to the Great Hall to put everything away and close it up until the next time it was needed. Catherine walked with him to the door of the dining chamber.

"We will be late, Catherine. I will see you in the morning. May I take you to breakfast?"

"Yes, thank you," she smiled brightly. They had moved around the corner and were out of sight of everyone else, so Vincent dropped a kiss on her cheek before he turned to leave. "Sleep well, Catherine."

"You too, Vincent."

Once Catherine was back in her chamber, she set about gathering the Christmas gifts she planned to give the next day. The tradition Below was to make or refurbish items that were given as gifts. Catherine hadn’t really mastered a craft yet, but she had some things that she thought Father and Mary would enjoy.

Not long after she’d met Vincent and Father she’d helped Father reunite with his ex-wife, Margaret Chase. While doing that, she and Vincent had learned a few things about his past. None of her history classes had ever really touched on that time and all the controversy about McCarthyism and A-Bomb testing so she had decided to do some research. She had found the subject fascinating, especially when she found that eventually, Father’s ideas and theories had been proven correct. She’d purchased several books and read them, and she thought that Father might like to have them, so she had tied them all together with a bright red ribbon and was planning to give them to him.

A couple of years ago, just after her father’s death, she had been out looking for a gift for Jenny, when she had seen a beautiful silk shawl. It was one of the last luxury items she had purchased for herself. As much as she loved it, she had never used it. It was still in tissue in the box from the store. It was a beautiful deep forest green, not a color that Mary usually wore, but Catherine was sure that it look lovely on her; and if she chose not to wear it, Catherine was sure that it would work draped over the back of a chair in Mary’s chamber.

She also had a gift for Vincent. She’d bought it for him not long after she’s last seen him. She’d been so sure that she and Vincent would be spending the next Christmas together that she hadn’t thought twice when she saw the journal with the beautiful leather cover. She had immediately thought of Vincent. She’d taken it home and even inscribed the inside cover:

Vincent~

Merry Christmas.

Catherine

(1988)

But she never got the opportunity to give it to him. She had considered giving it to a Helper and asking that it be delivered, but she was afraid that it would wind up like all her notes, so she had kept it in a wooden chest in the back of her closet. Now she pulled the chest out from under her bed and removed the journal. It too, was still in its box from the store. She opened it to the inside cover and under the first inscription she wrote:

Vincent~

Merry Christmas, finally!

Love Always,

Catherine

(1993)

 

She replaced it in the box and put it on the table next to the other two gifts. That done, she went to bed and dreamed of her own version of sugar plums.

* * * * * * * * * *

Catherine had always wondered what Christmas morning was like Below. She found that it was all about the children. A large Christmas tree had appeared overnight in the dining chamber and there were stacks of wrapped gifts surrounding it. Some were obviously from the people Below, but many were just as obviously from Helpers above. Each child had a homemade stocking with his or her name on it and they were all crammed with goodies and small gifts. Each child also had several wrapped gifts. Most of them were practical: clothing, books or toiletries, but everyone also got at least one toy and everyone was very grateful for each item.

Adults exchanged gifts too, but they did it later in private. Catherine had been invited to join a private get together in Father’s study after they were done watching the children receive and open their gifts. She stopped at her chamber to pick up her basket of gifts on her way to Father’s study.

When she arrived, Vincent and Mary were already there and they were all discussing the merits of fruitcake.

"No one ever eats it," Mary was saying.

"I suspect that they just get passed from person to person year after year," said Father with a laugh.

"Have you ever had a good piece of fruitcake?" Vincent asked Catherine as she entered the room.

"Once. It was my grandmother’s. It is actually very good. It isn’t so heavy on the candied fruit, and has more dried fruit in it and it is in a spice cake batter. I used to have the recipe, I’ll have to see if I can find it and give it to William, but I agree, those commercial fruitcakes are really only good for use as something like a door stop.

Catherine set her basket on a side table and accepted mug of mulled wine from Vincent.

"More of William’s?" she asked.

"Yes, it is."

"Kind of early in the day for me, but one won’t have me too loopy. It might warm me up, it has seemed extra chilly down here today."

She joined the others at the table, where Father proceeded to tell Catherine about the time Devin and the other children had wanted to go above and play in the snow.

"It was Vincent’s eighth birthday, if I remember correctly. It had snowed heavily the night before and the children wanted to go up to the park to play in it, but Vincent couldn’t go Above with them, so they decided to bring the snow to him." Father told her. "They spent the whole morning hauling it to an unused chamber. They used everything they could to carry it, and they worked very hard. They wanted to have enough so that they could build a snowman and then have a snowball fight afterward. They didn’t tell Vincent, they wanted to surprise him. When they felt they had enough snow for their purposes they all went to lunch where they talked Vincent into going back with them after they ate.

"What they hadn’t planned for was that the ambient temperature below is usually between 50 and 55 degrees except on the coldest days Above. While they were gone for a little over an hour, eating lunch, their snow had begun to melt and by the time they got back to the chamber where they had left their snow, it was swiftly becoming slush. Before the end of the day, they were shin deep in ice cold muddy water, and they were spending all their time trying to keep the tide back, to keep it from running into other adjacent, occupied chambers."

"They did manage to keep it from doing any real damage, Father," Vincent reminded him. "And I did appreciate the thought."

"Yes, and you were the only one who wasn’t assigned to KP duty for the next week as punishment, but you went and worked with them every day anyway."

"It only seemed right, they got into trouble trying to do something nice for me."

"Have the children here now ever come up with some real good capers or did all that go away when Devin left?" asked Catherine as she sipped from her mug.

"The ones we have here now are much better behaved than we were," Vincent assured her.

"You were much better behaved after Devin left," said Father.

"I don’t know, Mitch led some of the boys on some pretty wild escapades," said Vincent. "And even I managed to instigate some crazy schemes. I remember the summer it was so dry and the main falls dwindled down to less than half its normal volume for a few weeks. Several of us noticed that there seemed to be caves behind the falls. We ‘borrowed’ Fathers binoculars and got a better look and we were certain that there were caves. Rather than ask anyone if they had ever explored that area; we decided to take a direct approach and rappel down the rock face to a ledge that we spotted. To do that meant we had to climb up to the top of the falls. There was a path part of the way, but the last twenty-five feet or so was straight up. I was the only one really capable of climbing it. I did and then I secured a rope and the rest of them, Winslow, Pascal, Mitch, Rebecca and Livvy used the rope. To that point we were doing well. We used another rope and started down. I went first, and didn’t have any trouble. Mitch followed and then Livvy. Then it was Winslow’s turn. I don’t know what happened but the rope let go and Winslow fell into the river. As the rope went by him, somehow it got wrapped around Pascal’s foot and he went over right behind Winslow. I was the strongest swimmer so I jumped in after them, and pulled them out. That left Rebecca at the top of the falls and Mitch and Livvy in the mouth of the cave behind the falls. Luckily the other rope was still hanging down the other face and Rebecca was able to get back down to the path that way. Mitch couldn’t swim, so he called down to us that he and Livvy were going to try to find their way out through the cave behind the falls. They had chalk to mark the path, but really didn’t need it, it was a fairly direct walk about half a mile and came out in a little used tunnel behind the dining chamber. We all worked details for a week after that one. But it also triggered the decision to teach all the children to swim." They were all laughing by the time Vincent finished his story.

"I’m surprised Livvy or Rebecca haven’t told me that one," said Catherine, with a giggle "they love to tell me stories about you as a child."

The giggle caught Vincent’s attention. It sounded just like a little girl, and gave him a glimpse of what she had been like then.

"I’m sure you were a model child, Catherine," prompted Father.

"Why, of course," she agreed with a twinkle. "Susan and I never gave anyone any trouble."

"You and Peter’s daughter were friends?" asked Vincent.

"Until we started high school. I don’t remember a time we didn’t know each other. I’m only a month older than she is. We were in nursery school together, elementary school and junior high. But when we got to high school, Daddy decided that I should go to a co-ed high school and Peter and Janine decided that Susan should go to an all girls’ school. We were still friends after that, we just didn’t see as much of each other. After Mom died, when Daddy had to go out of town for something, I would stay with the Alcotts…Actually, there was one time we got into trouble, and I have to admit it was all my fault. I talked Susan into it."

"So you were practicing your attorney skills early, my dear?" asked Father.

"I guess I was. Susan and I were supposed to be going to an afternoon movie, and I talked her into going and wandering around Greenwich Village instead; I’d heard there were a lot of cool shops there. We were sixteen, nothing happened, but neither of us were familiar with the subway system, and we got lost coming home and were almost two hours late. Susan got into more trouble over it than I did and I always felt guilty about it. She was grounded for two weeks and all I got was my TV privileges revoked for two weeks."

They continued to exchange stories until Father suggested that since he could tell that everyone had brought gifts they go ahead and exchange them. Both he and Mary loved what Catherine gave them. Mary had made a lovely, warm flannel nightgown for Catherine. It was white with tiny red roses embroidered around the banded neckline and it closed with a line of delicate white ribbons halfway down the front. Father had commissioned Mouse to refurbish an old fashioned brass desk lamp with a colored glass shade that would work very nicely on her desk and improve her reading light.

Vincent gave her an old volume of Dylan Thomas’ works. It was inscribed simply:

Always,

Vincent

When he opened the box containing his journal his eyes lit up. "I’ll have a new journal to start the New Year off with," he said. He smiled when he saw Catherine’s double inscription.

Christmas dinner Below was a much more subdued affair than Christmas breakfast had been. Normally there were many small and medium sized tables arranged around the dining chamber, but for this dinner and other special meals, the tables were arranged into one large table and everyone ate together.

Even though it was a quiet meal, compared to breakfast, everyone was still groaning when they left the dining hall.

"I never want to see food again," said Catherine as she and Vincent walked back to her chamber for their talk.

"But it’s only 4:00 in the afternoon, you mean you won’t be in the kitchen with me later looking for a turkey sandwich?" asked Vincent.

"Maybe. Ask me again in about five or six hours," she said with a smile.

When they arrived at Catherine’s chamber, they both collapsed into chairs with a groan.

"I feel like I really should go for a walk," she said, "but I just don’t have the energy to move."

"Maybe later," agreed Vincent. "Have you had the chance to think about what we talked about the other night?" he asked after a pause.

"I’ve thought about very little else," she said with a sigh. "I’m very happy that we have finally reached the point where we are actually talking about where we are in our relationship and where we are going. Not so long ago I didn’t think I was ever even going to see you again."

"So, Catherine, have you decided what you want?"

"Yes, I have. I’ve decided I want you…"

Vincent’s head came up and their eyes met.

"But I also agree with you that we should take our time, make sure that we are moving in the direction that we both want to go. We really don’t need to be in any great rush, we should relax and enjoy the trip."

Vincent didn’t speak but he did nod his agreement.

"I enjoy being with you, just spending time talking. In fact, you are the only person I know that I like spending quiet time with. Just the two of us in the same room, pursuing our own projects. I enjoy working on things with you, and I would like to do more of that, when possible."

"And privately, Catherine?" he asked.

"You said that you didn’t touch me because touching was an invasion of my space, well, you can invade my space anytime you feel like it, Vincent," she said with a grin that softened as she went on. "I miss your hugs, in fact, I can think of no better way to spend the next few hours today with you than cuddled on that bed," she nodded toward her bed, "or yours reading to each other."

"I agree, Catherine," He rose and held his hand out to her, "but may I suggest my chamber, I left the brazier burning and it might be a little warmer in there than in here."

They made their way back to his chamber, where it was considerably warmer and spent the rest of the day doing just what Catherine had suggested.

Her mind drifted several times as he read. She was where, if you’d asked her a few years ago, even a few months ago, she’d never thought she would be again: in Vincent’s arms. Happy was too tame a word to describe what she was feeling.

As Catherine read, Vincent’s thoughts followed much the same direction. Only he went one step further and thanked God that he had been given a second chance and he swore he wasn’t going to mess it up this time.

They finished the book they were reading and were just holding each other. Catherine was contemplating whether she could possibly eat a turkey sandwich, and she was concluding she probably could, when she felt Vincent shift a little so that he was facing her more.

She smiled up at him, thinking he was going to suggest they go forage for leftovers.

"Catherine, we didn’t talk about trust," he said.

"Um, yes…you know," she mused, "when we spoke about that the other day, it was all about me, but I’ve been wondering about something. Do you entirely trust me? At the beginning you said you did, and you’ve always trusted me to keep your secrets, but what about now? Do you trust me with your love?"

"Catherine, you’ve never given me a reason not to. It is I who abused your trust, pushing you away every time I felt that you were getting too close, and then trying to convince you and myself that it was for your own good. I have never not trusted you, Catherine," he assured her.

"You’re sure?" she prodded. "There was the time I would have married Elliot."

"You did that for me, for this community, not for yourself. You were ready to give up all your dreams and hopes so that we could be safe. I trust you Catherine," he repeated. "What about you?"

"I have thought about it. I do trust you, Vincent. There is just that little part of me that holds back; not quite willing yet, to make that final step…It’s almost like I’m waiting for something to happen; for the other shoe to drop. Maybe things have just been going too well lately. In the last few years, just before I came Below, I’d kind of gotten to the point where, when everything was going well, the bottom would drop out, so I’m just a little jumpy."

"I can understand that, Catherine," he said, looking into her eyes. "…may I kiss you?" he added.

That changed the tone of the conversation, completely.

"Oh, we didn’t cover that earlier, did we?" she unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile. "You can kiss me anytime you want. You don’t have to ask. Just like the hugging and touching. I love surprises…"

Before she could finish her sentence he was kissing her. Their first kiss a few days ago had been a bit frenzied, but this one was an exploration. She was able to take time to savor it; to feel his soft pliant lower lip and the slightly less mobile upper lip. In combination they had the ability to take her breath away. The golden hair on his face was much softer than it looked and it just added to the sensory experience of his kisses. Especially when he left her mouth and started moving down her throat. He was stopped by the high collar of her turtle neck sweater, she wanted nothing more than pull it off and allow him to continue his explorations, but he kissed his way back up to her mouth. This time she relaxed her lips and invited him in. He accepted the invitation and within seconds she was lost. His right hand had found its way under her sweater and was kneading the muscles of her lower back. Her hands had found the hem of his sweater but there was still a T-shirt between her palms and his back; she was just beginning to tug the T-shirt out of the waistband of his jeans when he pulled back a little and leaned his forehead against hers.

"Slowly, Catherine," he said, as much for his benefit as for hers. "We don’t have to rush…I think I could find some room for a turkey sandwich and possibly a piece of pie. How about you?"

 

* * * * * * * * * *

The week after Christmas started out like any other week in the winter, except that as the week went on the temperatures Above plummeted; they were setting records. Likewise, the temperatures in the tunnels were also a lot lower than normal. Catherine woke on New Year’s Eve to find a thin layer of ice on the pitcher of drinking water she kept in her chamber. She hadn’t quite mastered fire building and if she didn’t add fuel to her brazier about every hour, the fire would go out and her chamber would get very cold very quickly.

She got out of bed and quickly gathered all her toiletries and her clothes and rushed off to the bathing chamber to wash and dress. But the chill had even reached the normally warm bathing chambers; the water there felt cooler than usual.

Catherine wasn’t the only one feeling the chill. Everyone Below was wearing extra layers, some were even doubling up and sharing the warmer chambers to sleep at night. William was having no trouble finding volunteers to work in his kitchen, because it was always warm in there. Even Catherine volunteered to do dishes, just so she could get her hands into the warm water for a time.

She was doing just that, helping wash the breakfast dishes when Vincent came in and told her that he was going to make a quick visit to Narcissa. He had gathered the items on her list and was going to take them to her. He told her that he would be back sometime late in the evening.

When Vincent made the trip down to Narcissa's domain he always went faster if he traveled alone. Traveling alone, he was able to take a shorter, if slightly more dangerous route. What would normally be an all day trip could be made in slightly less than four hours.

As usual, Narcissa, acted as if she knew he was coming and had a fresh pot of tea that had just finished steeping.

They were enjoying their tea and sharing Vincent's lunch when Narcissa asked him about Catherine.

"She is well, Narcissa," he replied in answer to her question.

"And the two of you; are you well together?" she asked.

"Better," he said. "We are working through the problems I caused."

"And you will be together?" she asked.

Not knowing quite what the old woman meant by 'together', Vincent had to smile. "Yes, Narcissa, we are friends again."

"Oh, child!" she slapped his knee and laughed. "I wasn't meaning friends. I'm not so old that I can't remember what it was like. I loved a few in my time." She laughed again, and Vincent could feel his face warming.

"He blushes." She patted his cheek. "So you haven't truly loved her yet. But you will. Do not worry. It will be well. You are good for each other. Your lines will mix well and produce beautiful children." She leaned back and took a sip of tea her milky eyes trained on him.

"Children, Narcissa?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes, beautiful children..." She was quiet again for a while, then as if an afterthought, or maybe a new conversation. "Before the New Year ends, it will happen."

"What will happen before the New Year ends?" asked Vincent. But he couldn't get her back to that subject. She was off on another and he just couldn't redirect her.

"I have more poultices and headache powders for the Father," she said. "And dried mushrooms for William and crystals for the Mouse boy."

After several attempts, Vincent finally gave up trying to get Narcissa back on the subject of him and Catherine. The only other thing he got out of her was just as he was leaving.

"All you have to do is love her, Child," she said, "just love her."

"I do, Narcissa!" he said as he picked up his pack in preparation to leave.

"Then you do well, Vincent," she said with a wistful look. Then she flapped her hands at him. "Go. It is time you left if you want to make it back in time for the celebration."

Vincent made just as good time going back as he did going down to Narcissa's, but when he reached the main chambers he found that it was so cold, that everyone had retired early, forgoing the usual celebration. By the time he arrived around 9:00 all was quiet in the tunnels. He went to his chamber then the bathing chamber for a lukewarm bath, and then he went to bed too. He had a lot to think about.

Catherine built up the fire in her brazier and had actually managed to get the temperature above freezing by the time she put on several layers of clothing and crawled into bed. She’d been in Father’s chamber earlier when Mouse presented a plan to heat the cooler areas Below. Even she had seen that it would probably work. There were areas below them that were quite warm; the temperatures were well up into the ‘80’s and ‘90’s, similar to the area where Paracelsus had taken up residence. Mouse had pointed out that warm air rises and if he could cut some holes and put in some duct work and a few booster fans, some of that warm air could be routed into the cooler areas of the home chambers. It wouldn’t make it hot, but it would at least keep the temperatures above freezing. But the plan had to be put on the back burner because of the cost. They could do the work, that wouldn’t cost anything, but finding hundreds, perhaps thousands of feet of the ductwork needed would be nearly impossible. Even if they were able to scavenge it from a demolition site or two, finding enough would take quite a while. Everyone agreed that they would keep their eyes open and any time they found anything they would bring it down, but the project would have to wait until they had enough to finish the job. Someone suggested that even if they didn’t have the ductwork, they could get to work on cutting the holes needed, just to be ahead of it when they did finally get all the materials needed for the job. Catherine seldom cursed the fate that had taken her inheritance, but this was one of those times. There had been a time when she could have just gone and ordered whatever it was that Mouse needed and have it sent Below, anonymously. She fell asleep thinking about that.

Several hours later, something woke Vincent. He sat up in his bed, and looked around the room. His brazier had burned low, but it was still reasonably warm in the room. He got up and added fuel to the fire and lit several candles. He stood and watched the flames dance in the brazier as he tried to figure out what it was that had awakened him. He probed the Bond and then he knew. It had been Catherine; she was still asleep but the chill in her chamber had penetrated her dreams.

He’d gone to bed in only his usual night shirt and sweatpants, he put on his slippers and robe and hurried to Catherine’s chamber, intending to build up the fire in her brazier for her. But when he got there he was appalled at the temperature. It felt even colder that it had been in the tunnel, he could see his breath in the candlelight. Catherine was huddled in a ball in the middle of her bed with several layers of quilts and blankets over her and she was still shivering. Without a second thought, he went to the bed, threw back the blankets, picked her up and carried her to the relative warmth of his chamber. He’d hung rugs and quilts in front of the various openings to the chamber and it was much warmer than hers. At least he couldn’t see his breath there.

She woke as they left her chamber.

"Vincent?" she questioned, groggily.

"Why didn’t you tell me your chamber was so cold?" he asked.

"It is colder tonight than it has been. I’ve managed to stay warm every other night."

He carried her into his chamber and deposited her in a chair near the brazier, and she held her chilled hands toward the heat as he made a pot of herb tea.

"If you take off a few of those layers of clothing, you’ll warm up faster," he suggested as he worked.

By the time she had worked her way down to her sweatpants, sweatshirt and socks, the tea was ready and she gratefully accepted a cup.

"Would you like something to eat?" he asked as he seated himself in a chair close to her.

"No, this is fine. I don’t think I’ve ever been this cold before. How do you keep it so warm in here?" she asked.

"Lots of practice," he said with a smile. "I cover all the openings, and have learned how to build a fire that will burn steadily all night…You’ll sleep here, with me tonight. My body temperature runs a little above average, I’ll keep you warm. Then tomorrow, we will see what we can do about getting your chamber warm and keeping it that way. I’ll teach you how to build a fire. If we can’t warm it up, you’ll just stay here until the cold snap passes."

When he’d said that she would sleep there with him, her head came up and their eyes met. "It’s not that I don’t find the prospect of cuddling with you all night inviting," she said with a smile, "but are you sure? I could go sleep in the nursery."

"You wouldn’t have a bed in the nursery, you’d have to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag, like the children we’ve moved in there, and on top of it, I’m not at all sure that there is any floor space left. Yes, Catherine, I am sure."

She finished her tea, and he pointed at the bed. "Go to bed. I’ll put out the lights and join you in a minute."

The sound of those words gave her a different kind of chill, but this one was nice. When she crawled in, she moved to the far side of the bed and turned toward the bookcase. She was going to try to make this as easy on them both as she could. She kept telling herself she was only there because of the need to stay warm, nothing else.

Vincent put out all the candles and the only light left was the golden glow from the stained glass behind the bed. He was doing his best to remind himself that she was only there to stay warm, but when he got into the bed he couldn’t resist reaching out, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her back into his body.

"Oh, Vincent, you’re so warm. You feel so good," she sighed.

The words and the little wiggle of her hips almost undid him. He took a deep breath to get a grip on his feelings and his body. "Good night Catherine, sleep well."

"I’m sure I will," was her answer.

Before either of them had a chance to go to sleep they heard the midnight ‘All’s well’ go out over the pipes, followed by a ‘Happy New Year.’

Catherine turned over; his arm was still around her waist. She stretched up a little and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Happy New Year, Vincent," she said.

He just looked at her for a moment. His look was so enigmatic that she was afraid she might have done something wrong.

"That is a tradition, from Above. You exchange a kiss and a ‘Happy New Year’ with whoever you are with at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve."

"And drink a toast to the New Year," he added. "I know the tradition. We usually have a small party in Father’s study."

His arm tightened around her waist, he pulled her closer and lowered his lips to hers. "Happy New Year, Catherine," he said, just before their lips met.

It was the most exquisite New Year’s kiss she’d ever had. It seemed to go on forever. Time slowed down as the kiss deepened and they shed articles of clothing one by one. The feel of him against her skin warmed her more quickly than anything else could have.

She found herself looking up into his eyes; eyes that had gone almost indigo in his passion. "Catherine, I want to love you," he whispered.

She wasn’t surprised, but the words brought tears to her eyes. She smiled up at him and nodded, "Yes, Vincent; love me, please." Her arms went around his neck and she drew him down into another all consuming kiss. Their passion built until they achieved the ultimate expression of their Bond.

Vincent woke first the next morning. It was early, the pipes were still quiet. The fire had died down in the brazier and the room had chilled. He carefully moved over to the edge of the bed and got up. He pulled on his robe and went to rebuild the fire. His brain was still churning with the events of the previous night. He was having a hard time believing what had happened, that it hadn’t all been a dream. He’d made love to Catherine and nothing had happened, well, nothing bad had happened. He smiled to himself as he shed the robe and got back into bed. He eased back over against Catherine’s warm body. He definitely was not dreaming. The Bond was quiet, she was sleeping soundly and he dozed off again.

When he woke again about an hour later, Catherine was just beginning to wake and the room had warmed up. As they slept, Catherine had rolled over again and had her arms around him and her head was nestled under his chin.

"Are you awake, Vincent?" her voice was muffled.

"Yes, I am."

"Um, did we really…?"

"Yes, Catherine, we did."

"Then I wasn’t dreaming?" she moved over a little and tilted her head so she could see his face.

"No, my love, you weren’t dreaming." To illustrate that fact he ran his hand down her bare back to her bottom.

She groaned. "If I didn’t have to go to the bathroom so bad, I would take you up on that."

Vincent smiled and kissed her forehead. "Then why don’t you go use the facilities and I’ll go to your chamber and build up the fire then bring you your toiletries so you can bathe."

"You are brilliant!" she said, as she got up and pulled her sweats back on.

Vincent pointed to the entrance in the corner. "Go ahead and use our bathing chamber. Father and I are lucky enough to have our own. It's small, but it's warm."

Catherine started across the chamber, but turned just before she got to the tunnel.

"Will you be joining me?" she asked.

"Catherine, if I join you in the bath, we probably won’t make it to breakfast, and I am hungry."

As if prompted by his comment her stomach growled.

"OK, I’ll go along with that." She smiled and ran off down the tunnel.

Vincent went to Catherine’s chamber and built her a fire. He noted that the room wasn’t quite as cold as it had been the previous evening, the temperatures above must be moderating. He looked around the chamber and gathered her mesh bag of bathing supplies, her heavy terrycloth robe and her slippers. As he was leaving her chamber he encountered Father who was coming back from breakfast.

"Good morning, Father," he said with a smile.

"Good morning, son. What do you have there?" he asked eying the items Vincent was carrying.

"Catherine’s fire went out last night and her chamber turned into a freezer; she spent the night in my chamber. She’s bathing now. I told her I would build a fire in her chamber and bring her things to her."

"Well, William has put on quite a spread for breakfast this morning; you don’t want to miss it."

"Don’t worry Father, we won’t. We will see you later."

Vincent was relieved that Father hadn’t asked any more questions, he didn’t want to share his news just yet, at least not until he’d spoken to Catherine.

He took her things into the bathing chamber to her. "Father says that William has prepared a special breakfast. I’ll meet you in your chamber after I bathe." He left her to finish as he went back to his chamber to gather his clothes.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed when Catherine came back in. She moved to stand in front of him.

"Is something wrong, Vincent?" she asked, anxiously.

He looked up at her. "No, why do you ask?"

"You’re just a little quiet this morning. You’re not sorry about last night are you?"

Vincent reached out and pulled her over closer then wrapped both his arms around her waist and pressed his face into her chest.

"No, Catherine, I could never be sorry about that. It was the most incredible experience of my life and I hope to repeat it over and over. I love you Catherine and I’ve been trying to come up with a good way to ask you something very important. But I can’t come up with any way except to just ask." He looked up at her. "Catherine, will you marry me?"

The question took Catherine’s breath away. She actually gasped a couple of times before she found her voice. "Yes! Yes! Oh, Vincent! Yes." She wrapped her arms around his head and hugged him tight. He pulled her down to sit on his lap and he kissed her thoroughly.

Vincent pulled back to look at her; her face was glowing. "I love you," he repeated. "But we need to keep up our strength, so go get dressed and I will see you in a short time. We can stop and tell Father on our way back from breakfast, if you like.

Everyone who was in the dining chamber for breakfast noticed that something had changed between Vincent and Catherine. There was a lot of nudging and nodding in their direction, but they were oblivious; they only had eyes for each other.

On their way back, they stopped in Father’s study to tell him their news. Vincent hadn’t known exactly what he expected from Father, but his joy at the announcement surprised him.

"So, when do you want to have the ceremony?" he asked after he had hugged and kissed them both and congratulated them.

Vincent and Catherine looked at each other and answered together, "April 12^th."

"That should give us plenty of time to plan," agreed Father. "Does anyone else know? Do we want to make an announcement?"

"We wanted you to know first, Father," said Vincent. "Maybe we can tell everyone else at dinner tonight." He looked at Catherine, who nodded agreement.