THE REST OF THEIR LIVES

By Ginny Shearin

Chapter 8

Starting on Monday, Vincent was allowed to return to teaching his classes in the morning. Because he insisted on other duties, he was assigned to the wood shop for the afternoons. Cullen had a couple of pieces of furniture to repair, one to refinish, and a small table to build. He was glad to have Vincent to assist because he knew the work would be done to his exacting standards. The work wasn’t particularly demanding physically, but Vincent enjoyed feeling active and productive again. He was under orders to stop work by 4 o’clock and return to his chamber to rest a couple of hours before dinner, not an easy task for a love obsessed Vincent without a Catherine. To work off some of the untapped energy, he would take walks in the evenings. The walks grew a little longer each day, and he could feel his strength building steadily.

By Thursday afternoon Cullen had noticed the quiet, spontaneous smiles that appeared periodically on Vincent’s face.

“Catherine will be back tomorrow night. I’ve missed being with her,” was all Vincent would say.

Cullen, by nature, still had to tease mercilessly. Friday afternoon came to a close just in time to avoid a confrontation Cullen wouldn’t have wanted.

***

Joe was nearly beside himself when Catherine appeared on Monday morning. 

“In my office, Radcliffe,” he ordered after a big hug. “Let’s get you up to speed on what’s goin’ on. Geez, am I glad to see you.” 

“Nice to feel appreciated,” she grinned.

“I take it he’s better?” Joe asked after he closed the door.

“Much better, Joe. Thanks for asking - and thanks for letting me have the time.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice, did you? Is that all I get? ‘He’s much better,’” he asked. 

“He’s much better and so am I. He appreciates your understanding, too, and your concern for me. He was really sick, Joe. I thought I might lose him, and I was too worried about him to have been any good here, anyway. I wish I could tell you more, but I can’t. So, yeah. That’s about all you get, other than my undying gratitude,” she answered.

“Do I ever get to meet him?” Joe asked.

“I hope so. Maybe someday,” she answered. “I think the two of you would like each other. Now, about that mountain of paper on my desk . . . .”

“Okay, I can take a hint,” he responded, picking up a small page from a memo pad. Joe handed her a very short list of their most important cases with a few quick notes on each one, made a few brief explanations, and reluctantly allowed her to leave to dig in and catch up. The sound of his voice stopped her as she reached the open doorway.

“It’s really good to have you back,” he told her with heartfelt sincerity. He was rewarded with an equally sincere smile of appreciation from Catherine.

Catherine spent the first couple of days figuring out what had and hadn’t been done and what was new since she left; then she created a plan of action, no small undertaking. By the end of the week she had consulted with several others who had contributed to the information in her files, had a good understanding of the most important cases on Joe’s list, a few loose ends tied up so information on them was pretty well under control, one brief completed, and interviews with several witnesses for another case lined up for Monday and Tuesday of the following week. She had accomplished this through some hard work and a lot of overtime. She ate at the office, went home at night, showered and fell into her bed, taking time to be sure Vincent knew she was thinking about him before she fell asleep. The next morning she would get up and start the cycle all over again.

During the days at work Catherine’s mind occasionally wandered to Vincent; but with the exception of Wednesday, she managed pretty admirably to keep her mind on her work. There was so much of it. Wednesday was more difficult because she kept imagining the twinkle in Vincent’s eyes as he wrote. Shakespeare’s Sonnet 61 had arrived with her sandwich at lunch -no opening or closing, just the sonnet and the bold flowing “V” at the bottom of the page.

Is it thy will, thy image should keep open

            My heavy eyelids to the weary night?

            Dost thou desire my slumbers should be broken,

            While shadows like to thee do mock my sight?

            Is it thy spirit that you send’st from thee

            So far from home into my deeds to pry,

            To find out shames and idle hours in me,

            The scope and tenure of thy jealousy?

            O no, thy love though much, is not so great,

            It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,

            Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,

            To play the watchman ever for thy sake.

               For thee watch I, whilst thou dost wake elsewhere,

               From me far off, with others all too near.

By Thursday afternoon Joe had noticed the quiet, spontaneous smiles that periodically appeared on Catherine’s face. Her explanation was very much like Vincent’s, and Joe teased as badly as Cullen. By Friday afternoon Catherine finally stopped him by threatening to leave precisely at the end of the workday and let him finish that evening’s project entirely alone. They ordered pizza around nine o’clock, finished their work around eleven, and Joe dropped Catherine off at her apartment about eleven-thirty. She hurried into her apartment, showered and changed, packed a few things, and finally allowed her mind to think of nothing but Vincent.

***

When she reached the bottom of the ladder the sight she had longed for all week was waiting. In spite of Father’s repeated recommendations to the contrary, Vincent had insisted on meeting her. He was allowing her to share their bond now, so she knew his wants matched hers; but she also felt a hint of the doubt she had feared might return. She threw herself into his arms, giving him no time to revert to being shy about anything. She decided putting his hormones in charge might be the best approach; and, sure enough, he kissed her as thoroughly as she had wanted. She stood on tiptoe and returned his kiss with just as much enthusiasm.

“We should probably go, now,” he said as he picked up her bag. “We have to pass several sentries on the way; and if we stay here any longer you’re likely to look a little man-handled.”

“Then let’s go,” she answered. “I’ve been dreaming all week about being man-handled.”

He took her bag from her and his arm went around her waist, pulling her closer, enjoying the warmth of her against him. She laughed gently, leaned against him, wrapped her arm around his waist, and they walked that way until they neared the first sentry post. There they separated, held hands and talked about the trials of their weeks, including Joe and Cullen.

When they reached Vincent’s chamber, he pulled her toward the front of the room, well out of sight of the entrance and kissed her. There were several short, teasing kisses - then he bit her lower lip playfully, catching it carefully between his long canines, and followed it with a longer, soft, loving kiss. As she was reaching to put her arms more firmly around his neck to return his kiss and encourage the manhandling, he suddenly stiffened. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked in surprise, then realized he was looking past her. Turning to see what had upset him, she saw Father standing just inside the door looking dumbfounded.

“Do you find the entertainment suitable?” Vincent asked in an icy tone they rarely heard from him.

“Vincent . . . . Catherine . . . .” Father stammered, trying to regain some composure, “I’m truly sorry. I had no intention of intruding. I had no idea . . . .”

“Did you need something, Father?” Vincent asked in a tone only slightly warmer than the one he used before.    

“I couldn’t sleep,” Father answered, still stumbling over his words. “I heard you come in and only came to see if you’d like some tea. I didn’t mean to stare. Catherine . . . .  I’m sorry. Vincent . . . . It’s something I’ve always wanted for you. It was so unexpected.” Running his hand across his hair, he added, “I never thought . . . .”

“This should be between only Catherine and me,” Vincent interrupted firmly.

“I’m very sorry, children,” Father said again. “I’ll go now. Go back to . . .  whatever you were doing . . . .” With that he managed an awkward and hasty retreat.

Vincent pulled the screen across the door and returned to Catherine. She waited until she was sure Father was back in his chamber before bursting into quiet laughter. “Do you suppose he can sleep now?” she chuckled.

“There are two possibilities,” Vincent smiled. “One is that he will sleep well knowing that his son is happy,” he said, lifting Catherine in his arms and walking toward the bed.

“And the other?” she asked, grinning.

“He may never sleep again,” Vincent answered, smiling broadly and dropping her unceremoniously in the middle of his bed.

“Do you think we should go and talk to him?” she asked, propping herself on her elbows, obviously feeling a little sorry for the older man.

“No,” Vincent answered firmly, sitting down on the side of the bed to take off his boots.

“You could have been a little easier on him, you know. He was just surprised,” Catherine scolded.

“I wanted to give him no reason to consider staying,” Vincent answered with an uncharacteristically, roguish smile.

“You and Devin must have bedeviled that poor man terribly. I see no sign of mercy,” she laughed.

“Ah, but I distinctly remember, you said that you love me unconditionally,” he teased, taking off the second boot.

Pulling his shirt tail out from behind him and caressing his back beneath it, she smiled with him.

“Let me count the ways.”

He turned toward Catherine and spoke to her in an exaggerated whisper.

“You know Father isn’t likely to be sleeping any time soon. We’ll have to be very quiet,” Vincent told her with a smile that showed the tips of those long teeth.

“I can be very quiet,” she whispered, giggling softly as they tumbled back into the covers.

Later they held each other, sharing gentle caresses.

“I should go,” Catherine sighed. “We’ve been here long enough to pique Father’s curiosity, but not long enough for him to be certain of anything.” She hated the thought of leaving the warmth of Vincent’s body and his bed to spend the rest of the night alone.            “Am I being silly wanting to keep this just between us? Aside from the fact that it’s no one else’s business and we don’t want to tolerate the stares, whispers, and knowing looks, it somehow feels like the right thing to do.”

“All of the girls here idolize you, Catherine. I overhear them talking about us now and then, and they see our love as romantic and responsible. We should probably encourage that.”

“And the boys idolize you,” she answered, then followed with a mischievous smile. “Everyone here knows you as a man of moral principal. I’ve already robbed you of your innocence . . . .”

“A deed for which I shall be forever in your debt,” Vincent interrupted with one of his appealing half smiles.

“I’d hate to sully your reputation as well,” Catherine continued with a grin. With another little chuckle she looked away and added, “Somehow I never expected to be on this end of this conversation.”

She gathered her clothes and dressed, then sounded more serious. “But how long can we keep up this deception before we have to admit to it? I’ve pushed you to get to where we are now, sometimes a little too hard, maybe; so you’re going to have to choose where we go from here. I love you. I’ll accept whatever you decide; but, whatever you decide, I want the freedom to come here and share your life and your bed without restrictions.”

“I want that, too, Catherine . . . and you never pushed too hard. I was stubborn and insecure, and I . . . and we . . . needed you to be as determined as you were.” He was half dressed. His chest was still bare when he pulled her into his arms. “I’m still in awe of how much you willingly give up for me.”

“For us, Vincent . . . and for me. You have to get past the idea that you’re getting more from this relationship than I am. It just isn’t true.”

***

As they walked to the guest chamber, making just enough noise that Father would surely notice, Catherine broached a new subject.

“Vincent, you once said that I’m a woman of both worlds. With the resources I have, I feel a responsibility to give my world as much of the spirit of yours as I’m able to. If I can find a way to make it safer and easier for us to be together more often, how would you feel about being a man of a world and a half?”

“What do you have in mind?” he asked, intrigued.

“Let me do a little research before we talk about it,” she responded. “I want to be sure my ideas are realistic before I get our hopes up.”

“Anything that allows us to be together more often will have my full cooperation,” he assured her as they reached her chamber door.

“Then I’ll start gathering information tomorrow,” she answered, standing on tiptoe to kiss him once more.

Looking back into the chamber, Catherine said suggestively,

“Look at that bed. It’s so neat and perfect.”

“We could correct that,” he chuckled, and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, nipping at her neck. “This is the only guest chamber in use tonight. We’re completely alone.”

“Look at us, Vincent.” she laughed. “We’re behaving like rabbits.”

“The price you pay for loving a man with fur,” he teased.

“You called yourself a man,” she said, pleased with the sound of it.

“A man with fur.” he reminded her, taking her hand and falling into the bed.

“This new self-confidence is very attractive,” she told him, standing next to the bed and smiling flirtatiously.

“I’m glad you think so,” he answered mischievously, pulling her in beside him, “because in a few seconds you’re going to need to find me very attractive.” With that his arms went around her with an undisguised confidence she rejoiced that he had finally found.

***

During the weekend, Catherine took time to talk to Father about lists of helpers and their particular skills and asked if he had a master list she could see. When he produced the handwritten list, she was amazed at how long it was and how many different jobs and businesses and social strata were represented.

“Of course, there are others since that list was revised,” Father told her. “There are children of helpers who have grown up and become helpers themselves, family members of helpers we found we could trust and add to the list. Most of our newer helpers are people who were here for a while or those who have family connections to them. “There may come a time when the Great Hall isn’t big enough for all the helpers to attend Winterfest,” he smiled. She again marveled at the system that kept the tunnels thriving. She always felt honored to be a part of it.

***

Catherine consulted with Cullen and Kanin while Vincent was busy with a small, brief emergency. She had promises from them to do a little research of their own before she returned. She put off talking to Mouse because he would want to start right away, and she needed to do some scouting Above before she was ready for that. Mouse would have to wait. She didn’t want to get Vincent’s hopes up until she had more information, so she didn’t say any more to him about her ideas.

By Saturday evening Vincent and Catherine were again able to spend some time alone. They walked to the mirror pool for the first time in several months and enjoyed the stars, and each other. Vincent had not missed that Catherine was formulating some kind of plan; but she wasn’t talking to him about it, and he could feel that she would share it with him eventually. For now he was content to have her with him and staying Below - a luxury he could not have imagined being so comfortable with a few weeks before.

He stayed a while in her chamber when he walked her back. They sat leaning against the pillows on the bed, Catherine snuggling in the warmth of his arms with her head on his shoulder.

“It’s going to be longer before I can return this time,” she said softly. “One of our most important cases goes to court a week from Monday, and Joe insists that I handle it. It’s going to take a lot of extra hours to be well prepared. I’ve taken so much time off, I don’t feel I can refuse him.”

“How much longer?” he asked, groaning a little as he spoke and holding her closer.

She luxuriated in the thought that he would now so freely let her know how much he wanted her here.

“Two weeks if everything goes well,” she answered.

“Do your best to see that everything goes well,” he pleaded.

“Can you stay?” Catherine asked.

“The chamber next to us is being used tonight. These chambers aren’t separated as well as the ones meant for living quarters,” he answered with disappointment. “If I should stay much longer, the rumors would start, he smiled. She walked him to the door, but pulled him back inside for a long, satisfying good-night kiss before she let him go.”

***

Seeing a light in Father’s chamber when he passed it, Vincent stopped to say “good-night.”

“You must have tucked Catherine in for the night,” Father smiled, “Otherwise, I’m sure I wouldn’t have the pleasure of your company.”

Vincent just smiled and lowered his head.

“I’m truly sorry for intruding last night, but truly happy for you that there was something to intrude upon,” he smiled, still looking a little uncomfortable.

“Catherine and I have come to some of those understandings you mentioned,” Vincent answered, sitting down in the chair opposite Father’s desk and seeming inordinately interested in the chair arm where his fingers traced patterns as he spoke.

“And how far have these . . . understandings advanced?” Father ventured.            

“What we have or have not done or what we do or do not intend to do is between Catherine and me. I have resolved some things within myself that were standing in the way of our life together. We have a few more obstacles to clear, but I know now that we can resolve them . . . and if you have not mentioned this to anyone else, we would appreciate it if you didn’t. Having so little time together is difficult enough. We don’t need to add whispers and speculation.”

“I’m sorry. I seem to be intruding again,” Father responded. “One would think an old man would learn more quickly.” He suddenly laughed - a short little snort. “But I might suggest that the two of you keep your ‘understandings’ confined to private places. The electricity in your chamber last night could have powered the tunnels.”

“Privacy was what we had in mind when we moved away from the doorway at nearly one o’clock in the morning,” Vincent answered, dryly.  “What we hadn’t planned on was a voyeur sneaking in to watch.”

“Voyeur!” Father sputtered. “Isn’t that a little harsh, Vincent? Will I ever be able to apologize sufficiently to be forgiven?”

“Your first apology was sufficient for forgiveness,” Vincent answered, rising from his chair. “You just haven’t been sufficiently harassed,” he added with a smile that resembled those of his childhood, and he kissed his father’s head. “Good-night, Father. Sleep well.”

Father laughed and shook his head in resignation as he watched his son leave.

Vincent turned at the top of the stairs at Father’s door.

“Catherine won’t be back for two weeks. I intend to spend next weekend travelling to the crystal caverns. I’ve been feeling confined in the main tunnels lately, and I need a gift for Catherine. Mr. Shelby was here last week, and he needs help in remodeling the storage and work areas at the jewelry store. I think I may arrange a little help from him in return.”

“You obviously want to do this right away. Do you think you’re up to that?” Father asked, looking a little concerned.

“I’ve promised to take Mouse with me to the caverns,” Vincent answered with a short chuckle. “That seems to be about the only place in the tunnels he hasn’t been able to find for himself. You know he can find his way back for help if the need arises. And the work for Mr. Shelby shouldn’t be more strenuous for me than what I’ve already done here. I’m quite well now. It’s time to stop worrying about me.”

“That’s a tall order for a father,” Jacob smiled indulgently.

“Good night, Father,” Vincent smiled, equally indulgent.

***

That Sunday nothing could have stopped Vincent from seeing Catherine back to her building. Nothing could have made it easier for them to part again, either. As she was turning to climb the ladder back into her apartment Catherine suddenly felt Vincent struggling with several strong emotions and realized the most prominent one seemed to be jealousy.

“Vincent, what’s wrong?”

Vincent didn’t answer.

“Are you angry?  You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

He still didn’t answer, just lowered his head; but his look didn’t deny it, either.

“What could you possibly be jealous of?” she smiled. “You’ve never been more certain of my love.”

“Joe, Jenny . . . anything near you . . . anyone who can see your smile when I can’t . . .  anyone or anything close enough to touch you . . . your apartment . . . your pillow . . . the sun . . .” he answered, letting his head fall back in frustration. Catherine laughed at the picture.

“You realize you’re being completely irrational, don’t you?”

“Yes,” he answered, laughing at himself lightly and looking back down at her. “I’m obsessed lately,” he said with a resigned smile. “There are times, too many times, when all I can think of is holding you, touching you, keeping you to myself, sharing you with no one, and making love to you until neither of us can move.”

“And you’re actually admitting to it,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “We’ve definitely made progress.” She smiled mischievously. “I have those obsessions, too. You have me all to yourself right now. Hold me and kiss me and touch me before I go. I promise to make this case go away as fast as I can and come back to you.”

Vincent followed her instructions quite well before she left, and for the following two weeks they each did their best to find ways to cope with the demands of their separate lives, each feeling incomplete without the other.

***

Two weeks had seemed forever. Catherine had completed the case she tried in record time. The trial started on Monday of the second week. On Wednesday a witness for the defense had made an unexpected statement during his initial testimony that Catherine had been able to use to their advantage during her cross-examination, and things came to a close rather quickly. The particulars of a plea agreement had been worked out and the paperwork had been prepared and submitted. On Friday she had interviewed a witness for another case that right now was precarious at best, and tried, through constant interruptions during the day, to complete everything they would need for Monday. The workday had been long and difficult, but she wanted nothing to distract her from her weekend with Vincent. She had worked past ten o’clock that evening, finally leaving everything in neat stacks on her desk about quarter to eleven. She smiled to herself, thinking Joe could find it there on Monday morning if she followed her present inclinations and never returned. Her thoughts could now turn to much more pleasant things.

Catherine had decided after the beginnings of Vincent’s illness in her apartment that she would alter her life style to consider her own safety, and thereby help to insure his. Following this plan, she always took a cab home when she worked late. He was certainly better, seemingly back to his full strength; but she didn’t want him worrying about her. Obsessing about what they would do when they were together again was distracting enough for both of them.

She paid the cab driver, took the elevator to her apartment, and put the Chinese take out leftovers in the microwave to warm as she took a quick shower. The clothes she intended to take with her had been left on the bed that morning, so she ate sporadically as she quickly packed a large gym bag and dried her hair. She could feel that Vincent was as anxious to be together as she was, and the warmth of that connection made her accelerate her preparations. She locked the apartment door, breathing a sigh of relief that Joe hadn’t called with some new problem before she had made her escape. In the basement she locked the door of the storage room behind her, maneuvered her way through the hidden door, and swung herself down the ladder. Reaching the bottom, she was a little disappointed that Vincent wasn’t waiting for her. An emergency, she supposed, because she could still feel his impatience to be with her. She would just put her things in the guest quarters and wait for him in his chamber.

The thought of being with him again, of touching him . . . .  Not knowing exactly where the sentries were hidden, she tried to appear unhurried as she approached the main hub of the tunnels, but as she neared his chamber, the strength of her fantasies was overwhelming. It was becoming more difficult to tell which were his and which ones she was creating on her own. Two years ago she would never have believed she could imagine herself into such a state. She started to head for the guest chamber, but her sense of Vincent drew her to his chamber instead.

When she arrived at his door, the room was nearly dark, lit only by the torch glow through the stained glass window; but she knew he was there. She put her bag down near the door.

“Vincent?” she called softly.

“I’m here.” he answered. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she realized he was in bed, propped on one elbow, apparently wearing only his tawny, furry splendor.

“Have my thoughts been that obvious?” she chuckled. “Apparently your self-confidence is no longer a problem.”

“Are you about to tell me that I’ve misread your intent?” he asked smoothly. “The closer you came to my chamber, the less I could afford to be seen in public places, so I waited for you here,” he smiled.

Illustrating the accuracy of his understanding, she pulled the screen across the doorway, left her clothing in a forgotten heap, and slipped under the covers he held up in invitation. She moved close enough to give him a kiss then wriggled into a position to pull him above her, enjoying his weight on her and the caress of soft hair against her skin.     

“Now?” he asked.

“Now,” she answered.

Catherine took in a deep breath of pleasure as he moved slowly, gently, deliberately, until he was very completely where she had imagined him from the time she left work. Nothing was hurried. Their last weekend had been lust and passion. This was simply love - wanting to be as close as they could be. Their movements against one another were subtle and sometimes teasing, accompanied by small, quiet, creatively placed kisses, soft touches, smiles, and short, nearly whispered bits of conversation. They held each other that way for a long time, allowing the pleasure of that intimacy to wash through the bond between them. Finally one kiss ignited the passion that always seemed to be just below the surface and took them to the inevitable end of their lovemaking. Vincent rested on his elbows above her, both of them recovering in its aftermath.          

“Mmmmm . . . .” she sort of growled, “do you have any idea what a disappointment one of those normal men would be after you?”       

His answer was a quite thorough kiss of appreciation. She snuggled against him, hating to think of being anywhere else. His arms closed around her echoing her feelings; and they held each other and talked softly about nothing in particular - just finding excuses not to part.

Catherine eventually yielded to reality.

“Some of the others will be up soon. If we intend to keep this between the two of us, I’d better move into the guest chamber,” she said, already feeling the sting of having to leave him. They reluctantly left the warmth of the covers and dressed; then they made their way to the guest chamber, checking the passage and moving quietly, like two teenagers sneaking in late.

“You could stay here,” Catherine suggested playfully. “We could say you came early to go for a walk before breakfast.”

“You need rest, Catherine. I’ll tuck you in and place enough distance between us to allow it,” he answered with a smile. He helped her into her nightgown, momentarily weakening his resolve, and she climbed into bed with a pout. When he pulled the covers up around her shoulders and kissed her forehead, her arms circled his neck and pulled him down for a more gratifying kiss before she let him go.

“I’ll wake you for breakfast,” he said, forcing himself to leave.

***

Vincent had felt Catherine’s exhaustion and allowed her to sleep later than usual on Saturday. When she opened her eyes, he was standing in the doorway with his arms folded, looking amused.

“I thought you might sleep until tomorrow,” he teased. She picked up her watch from the bedside table and checked the time.

“It’s almost noon! Why didn’t you wake me?” she scolded.

“You needed sleep, and I’ve been busy,” he answered. “But apparently I have no duties between now and tomorrow night. The work load is rather light, and it seems that no one thinks I would be worth working with while you’re here anyway; so I thought you might like to walk to the falls. William packed a lunch for us if you’re hungry.”

“Give me about twenty minutes to pull myself together. Lunch at the falls sounds wonderful,” she answered, sitting up. “I’ll meet you in your chamber. You won’t need our bond to let you know I’m on the way. You’ll hear my stomach growling.”

He smiled broadly at her enthusiasm and left her to her preparations.

She realized suddenly that he was wearing the clothes he wore to her balcony for their anniversary - and enjoyed the freedom of thinking openly about how good he looked in them. For some reason she didn’t understand, Catherine had brought a nice pants outfit with her this trip - dressy pants, a soft, warm sweater and a turtle neck, and dressy but comfortable walking shoes. She smiled to herself, realizing how she had begun to stock her closet with tunnel clothes that still allowed her to dress up for Vincent. Today she wanted to do that.

Arriving at Vincent’s chamber and seeing the basket, she was surprised that her stomach wasn’t really growling.

“Is there something in there I could nibble on while we walk?” she asked. Then, with a grin, she added, “Last night food wasn’t a priority.” She planted a kiss on his cheek.

“No, it wasn’t,” Vincent smiled in agreement as he opened the basket. “Here,” he said, holding up a bunch of grapes. “Will this help you reach the falls?”

“Yes,” she answered, accepting the grapes immediately. “Lead the way.”

They took their time walking and talking, Catherine working her way through the grapes, occasionally popping one into Vincent’s mouth. They spent a long, pleasant afternoon enjoying the scenery, exploring a little, reading, talking, and just being close to one another. A couple of times others wandered in, but considerately left them to themselves before too long. There had been enough food in the basket that they felt no rush to get back to the main tunnels before dinner, so they made a day of it. On the way back Vincent stopped briefly to “let Kanin know they were back,” he said - just in case he had been needed.

Catherine sensed that there was more to the visit than that; but nothing seemed to be wrong, so she didn’t mention it. She sneaked a glance at him now and then, and more and more she sensed he was up to something. This was intriguing.

Chapter 9