As he lowered her slowly, Catherine captured his lips. Her tongue probed its way inside his eager mouth to taste and tease his raspy tongue and the sharp tips of his canines.
Vincent swayed against her, his legs weak with desire. The sound of childish laughter floated through the still air, and with great effort they tore themselves apart.
“Catherine! The children, the concert . . . We must . . .” He shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. When he spoke, his voice trembled with emotion.
“Catherine, we should go.”
Catherine nodded her head in agreement and kissed his cheek. Taking a deep b breath to steady herself, she whispered hoarsely.
“Yes.” She took his hand. “Let’s go, Vincent. You know how impatient the children can be when they’re kept waiting.”
Vincent smiled knowingly. He knew all about impatience and waiting. In fact, he had fast become an expert at it. Taking her hand, he lead her to the Great hall where the night’s festivities were about to begin.
The concert was a complete success. Even Mouse’s version of thunder and lighting during one number was carried off without a flaw, although it was bit loud and frightened several of the younger children. Vincent was there, however, to soothe several sets of frazzled nerves and the performance finished to a thunderous round of applause. The children were awarded three curtain calls and willingly obliged their appreciative audience, which served to prolong the lovers separation by at least another fifteen minutes.
Afterwards, William served a lunch truly fit for a king in honor of the youngsters’ triumph. As usual the community meal was delicious, bountiful, and filled with a lot of idle chatter that for once Catherine felt went on far too long. From the way he glanced impatiently at her every now and then, it was obvious that Vincent agreed.
After lunch, just when she thought she might finally get him alone, Vincent was whisked off by Father for a promised game of chess, a game that Vincent felt obligated to tell Catherine later would probably have gone much faster, not to mention in his favor, had it not been for her presence.
Though he could not see her perched on the edge of the chair behind him, Vincent could definitely sense her and the images her thoughts provoked in him made it extremely hard for him to concentrate on his moves. Much to Father’s delight, Vincent ended up losing the game - something that rarely ever happened.
“Vincent, your mind must be otherwise occupied.” Father grinned slyly as he glanced over his son’s shoulder at Catherine. “I think I may have you to thank for my win this evening, my dear.”
Catherine’s mouth dropped open in complete surprise when Father winked at her! Turning in his chair, Vincent leaned forward to place his finger under her chin and gallantly closed her mouth for her. Her look of curiosity made him smile and he silently mouthed the word ‘later’ to her. Catherine nodded slowly, still a bit shocked.
Father knew of their plans to spend the night together in a private place know only to them. Vincent had patiently explained the change in his relationship with Catherine shortly after their first night together. While he still had his doubts, Father knew that to try and forbid it from happening would be useless and wrong. Vincent and Catherine were very much in love, of that there was never any doubt. As hard as it was to admit, it was inevitable that they would reach this crossroad in their relationship. He’d finally come to realize that to try and prevent it would be like trying to stop the sun from rising or setting. He knew this and accepted it, but still worried as any parent would. Father rose stiffly and kissed them goodnight .
“Sleep well both of you. I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned to leave them, unable to resist a final, “Please be careful.”
“We will, Father. Sleep well. Please don’t worry.” Vincent smiled knowingly, thinking to himself, ‘I might just as well tell him to stop breathing.”
Catherine stared after Father’s retreating figure, surprise still etched on her face. She turned to look at Vincent.
“I can’t believe it. You told him about us? When?”
“Right after our first night together.” Vincent took her hands in his. “Please understand, Catherine. I did not go into any of the intimate details with him, but I had to tell him something. He sensed something was different about us almost immediately. I decided that honesty was the best policy.”
“So what exactly did you tell him about us? About what happened that night?”
“I told Father that our relationship was moving forward and that we would be spending much more time together.” He lowered his eyes, suddenly feeling a bit timid.
“I also told him that a guest chamber would not be necessary when he suggested one be prepared for your future use.” He looked back up at her. “He understood. I hope you aren’t upset that I told him.”
“No, Vincent, it’s all right, really. I’m not at all upset.” She brought his hands to her lips and kissed them. “I don’t care if you shout it from every roof top in New York. It’s just that . . . I guess I just didn’t think about your telling him, and I certainly never expected him to go along with it this easily.”
“Perhaps, Catherine, Father has finally accepted that our love is a force to be reckoned with - something that was meant to be.”
Vincent pulled her close, his arms circling her small waist. “At any rate, he seems to have come to terms with it.”
“Well, I’m very grateful that he has.” Catherine kissed him. “And speaking of our changing relationship, can we go . . .”
Footsteps, followed by two running bundles of energy, interrupted them. The smaller bundle hurled herself into Catherine’s arms insisting she just had to hear Catherine read a story. Wide dark brown eyes pleaded and Catherine knew she could not resist.
“All right, Andrea, but just one story.”
She shrugged her shoulders helplessly at Vincent, who was busy with his own insistent child. It seemed there was something Vincent had to see and he just had to see it right now. Vincent offered her a look of apology and took the boy’s hand.
“Very well, Kevin. Show me what is so important that it cannot possible wait one more moment.” As he passed her Catherine he whispered, “Ten minutes, Catherine. I’ll meet you in my chambers in ten minutes.”
As he left, Vincent’s keen hearing caught a soft grumble of disbelief and a comment about Grand Central Station that he decided was probably better left ignored.
Their ten minutes turned into more like an hour as Catherine found herself waylaid every time she tried to get to Vincent’s chamber. When she finally arrived, she found him impatiently pacing the floor.
“I’m sorry, Vincent. I couldn’t seem to get away. First Sarah needed me, then Mary had something she wanted to show me, then Jamie and Mouse . . .” She looked at him a bit guiltily. “Remind me to apologize to Jamie and Mouse when we get back.” She ran into his arms, hugging him tightly.
“Can we go now? Please?”
Grabbing a large wicker basket off the table and Catherine’s overnight bag from the bed, Vincent stepped outside the entrance to make sure the corridor was clear. They ran, hand in hand, to the falls almost daring anyone to try and stop them this time.
Catherine hesitated a moment before they began the short climb.
“Vincent, shouldn’t we have brought some things? I mean we are spending the night. We should be comfortable and we’ll probably get hungry later.”
“Don’t worry, Catherine. I brought everything we’ll need earlier today.” He held up the basket and her bag.
“I told William that we were planning a quiet dinner alone and he has provided us with what I am sure is a delicious meal, and I trust you have whatever you need in here for the night.” He held out his hand to assist her in the climb. “Come.”