Chapter Two

Catherine opened her eyes to Mary sitting on the bed beside her, gently dabbing her brow with a damp cloth. Looking around the chamber, she found Vincent backed into the dark corner nearest the foot of the bed, his face a stone mask. Standing beside him, Father looked as though he were holding him up.

"There, you see, Vincent? She’s coming around now. How do you feel, Catherine?"

"I’m…not sure. What happened?"

She tried to sit up but Mary’s hand on her shoulder easily restrained her. "As often happens when someone doesn’t eat or sleep for two days, you fainted, child." Mary stood up and lifting the water basin from the bedside table, looked down at her with a motherly frown.

"Now, you stay right where you are, young lady. You need to rest and have something to eat. I’ll go fetch some of that good vegetable soup William made for lunch. Vincent, you come with me. We’ll let Father take a good look at her."

Vincent didn’t move. With his gaze locked upon Catherine, his expression was unreadable. Father gently touched him on the arm. "Vincent? I will take a quick look at her, just to be sure. But you know Mary is usually right about such things, son."

"I’m fine now, Vincent. I promise."

Mary handed Vincent the water basin and lovingly but firmly turned him toward the door. "There, you see? Now come, dear. She’ll feel right as rain after she’s eaten."

Vincent finally relented and followed Mary out of the chamber. Father performed a cursory examination and once satisfied, the physician transformed into the caring father.

"Once again, Mary has hit the mark. But if there are any more dizzy spells, you are to send for me immediately, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. Right away. Thank you, Father."

"Good. Now, Catherine. I will not ask what has happened between you and Vincent. I’m sure I’ll only get the same non-answer I got from him. I do know, however, that something has frightened him into believing he’s about to lose you. Whatever is wrong, Catherine, I must tell you. I’ve come to believe that, should the worst happen, some part of him would wither and die without you. I hope you know that.

"Now, in the past, I think I may have been…perhaps misguided, shall we say? But if there is anything I can do now, for either of you, I hope you know you can come to me."

Catherine couldn’t help herself. She sat up and kissed him on the cheek. The instant he closed his arms around her in a fatherly embrace, her tears began to fall. "Oh, Father. You can’t know how much I’ve needed to hear you say that. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know how to make him see how very wrong he is, about a lot of things."

"All I can tell you now, dear, is to rely on the extraordinary connection you share. Remind him that the answers he seeks lies there. Whatever is possible between you, you must move cautiously and trust the voice of your hearts."

Vincent returned shortly thereafter with a tray of soup and sandwiches. Father ordered Catherine to eat every bite and to stay in bed the rest of the afternoon. After placing a kiss on his son’s forehead, he excused himself, leaving them to share lunch alone.

They ate in silence, Vincent watching her closely but refusing to meet her eyes. When Catherine had obediently finished her lunch, he removed the tray from her lap and turned to place it on the table in the center of the room when her voice halted his steps.

"Vincent, would you please do something for me?"

"Of course, Catherine. Anything."

Patting the quilt, she inched over to make room on the bed beside her. "First of all, please sit down here."

Putting the tray down, he hesitantly returned to her and sat down, keeping his eyes averted. She placed a hand along his jaw line and fought to keep her voice low and steady. "Please look at me."

His hair fluttered about his face as he shook his head. "I… I can’t, Catherine. What I’ve done to you…shames us both."

"All right then, use our bond, Vincent. You know everything I feel, if you try. Look at my heart and tell me what you find. Do you think I feel violated?"

He shook his head slowly.

"Do I feel ashamed or disgusted?"

Again, only a shake of the head.

"Vincent, please answer me. What does our bond tell you? Is there anything like disgust or even revulsion within me?"

Almost imperceptibly, his cheek leaned into her hand. "No."

"Vincent, am I in love?"

Slowly, he lifted his eyes to meet hers. She sat very still, giving him time to search their bond as deeply as he needed. Large teardrops pooled in his eyes and spilled individually onto his bronze skin. She allowed only the movement of a thumb, brushing aside one droplet. "Answer me. Am I in love?" she repeated.

"Yes."

"With you?"

Another searching moment. At last, he closed his eyes and heaved a deep sigh of acceptance. "Yes."

"Don’t you see, my love? All the doubts are yours. Not mine. All the fears and questions are within you, Vincent. They are not inside me. Once you accept that as our first truth, you won’t be ashamed of what you feel for me. You’ll begin to see your dreams as possibilities. Can’t you try to believe that?"

Drained of all strength, Vincent leaned forward into her shoulder. She gently urged him to lie down beside her, guiding his head to rest in her lap. Settling into her, he placed both arms around her hips and timidly positioned one leg over hers. Although his voice sounded muffled against her thigh, she clearly heard his anguish.

"Oh, Catherine. I need to believe you. Please help me. I can’t go on like this. There is so much inside me. You are so much more than I can explain, Beloved. I need to feel free to love you. In every way possible. Even so, I’m afraid, Catherine. I’m so afraid of what I am. Of the power within me. If I ever hurt you, my beloved, it would destroy me. I can not live without you but I’m so afraid. Help me, Catherine. Please. Help me."

He wept freely, now. She didn’t try to stop his tears. He needed to rid himself of the poisoning guilt. She gently stroked his hair and as much of his back as she could reach. When Father appeared in the doorway, summoned by the sounds of Vincent’s sobs, Catherine held up a hand and firmly shook her head denying him entry. Father took a step forward and Catherine raised both hands pressing her palms together in a desperate plea, her eyes silently begging him not to interfere. Indecisively, Father moved back into the shadows, waited a moment then turned and made his way slowly back down the corridor toward his study, limping and praying with each step.