He sighed and she pressed into him, deliriously happy when he responded to the intimate way their bodies touched. "Hold me tight," he whispered breathlessly. "I'm lost without you."

She swallowed hard, because his words washed over her like a dark foreboding, making her tremble. "I'm here," she murmured against his chest. "Don't worry."

She released him for a moment and took a step in retreat to unbutton her coat, shrugging it off her shoulders. Suddenly his eyes darkened and he looked away.

"Vincent?" she began hesitantly. "Tell me what's troubling you so."

He heaved a deep sigh and slumped down on his bed. "I can't," he replied at last. "I can't."

Toeing off her boots, she climbed on the bed next to him and leaned back against a mound of pillows, coaxing him to lie with her. He complied reluctantly, but finally he allowed her to pull his head down onto her lap. Tenderly she stroked his hair, giving him all the warmth she could.

Catherine thought she must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing she knew was that he was lying beside her, holding her close as he was moving against her in his sleep. Instantly the warm tingle of arousal spread through her and she couldn't help but return his fervent movements in kind.

"I love you," she whispered into his ear as she slipped her hand beneath his shirt, caressing the bare skin of his chest. He rolled her onto her back and slowly lowered himself atop her, holding his weight away from her with trembling arms. His eyes were still closed as he kissed her, and she couldn't suppress a low moan. His eyes flew open and he rolled himself off her, looking at her disorientedly.

"It's all right," she crooned. "Everything's all right, Vincent."

He shook his head vigorously, burying his face in his hands. "Nothing's all right," he mumbled dejectedly.

Catherine felt helpless as she watched him sitting there. Slowly she inched closer, half-expecting him to withdraw, but he didn't. He leaned back and gathered her to his side, holding her gently in a position that allowed them to be close, but not too close. Finally she fell asleep that way, and as she woke up, she found herself alone in his bed. The chamber lay in semi-darkness, and as she looked around for Vincent, she noticed that his cloak was gone as well.

After washing up a bit and combing her hair, she left the chamber to check if Vincent was close by. Father sat at his desk in the study and regarded her questioningly over the rim of his glasses as she stopped on top of the small staircase.

"Vincent is not here," he said, his voice betraying his curiosity.

Catherine thanked him and left to resume her search. He wasn't in the dining hall either, and neither William nor Joshua has seen him. Joshua sent out a message on the pipes and received the reply that Vincent had left the tunnels and gone above two hours ago.

"Oh my God, it will be morning soon!" Catherine exclaimed.

Joshua put a reassuring hand on her arm. "Don't worry. He does that sometimes. He knows his way around and he is used to taking care of himself."

"Thank you, Joshua," she murmured, giving his hand a grateful squeeze.

"Can you tell me what exit he used?"

"I'm sorry, I have no idea. Is something wrong?" Joshua asked compassionately.

She sighed. "I'm not sure, Joshua. That's what I'm going to find out as soon as I can. Do you know where Lisa is?"

A look of comprehension passed over Joshua's features. "She left the tunnels in the middle of the night," he replied.

"Do you know where I can find her?"

He shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't help you. But it wouldn't do much good anyway. You can't talk with Lisa. No one can. The only person Lisa listens to is Lisa."

Struggling for a decision, Catherine studied the tips of her boots.

"How well do you know her?" she asked at last.

"Well enough to know she is poisonous," he replied quietly.

"But there was a time when Vincent loved her," she murmured.

"He was a boy back then to whom the word 'love' didn't have much more meaning than fairies and wizards and magic castles," Joshua pointed out with a melancholic smile.

Catherine sighed wistfully. "I wish I had known him at that age," she said.

"So do I," Joshua replied softly.

"I suppose it's best I return above," she mused, sighing again.

"I'll send word as soon as I hear from him," Joshua promised.

They exchanged a smile of understanding and Catherine thanked him again before leaving for home.

Two days passed without a word from Vincent. Catherine went below every night to inquire about him, but he wasn't there. On the evening of the third day she was sitting in her living room when there was a knock on her door. She hurried to open and her heart constricted with anticipation as she saw Joshua standing there, gazing at her solemnly.

"Anything new?" she asked hopefully.

He just shook his head. "I'm sorry, Catherine. I don't understand this. It's not like the Vincent I know."

Catherine stepped back to let Joshua enter. "Please come in," she said. "I need to talk to you."

They walked over to the coffee table and took seats opposite one another.

"It's about Vincent," she began and then she told him roughly what had happened. She considered leaving out the detail of Lisa's torn gown for now, but then she decided he had to know in order to be able to help.

"That bitch," Joshua exclaimed from between clenched teeth. "She would stoop to anything if it served her warped purposes."

"Joshua, I'm worried," Catherine said. "He seemed to be really down when I found him, as if she had crushed something within him."

"She probably has," Joshua replied. "She has the uncanny ability to find out people's weak spots within seconds. And she certainly wasted no time trying her skills on Vincent."

"Do you think she still wants him?" she asked timidly.

"That's of no consequence," Joshua gave back. "What you really want to know is how he feels about her, right?"

Heaving a sigh, Catherine nodded.

Joshua placed his hand on top of hers. "You have no reason to worry," he assured her. "And deep down in your soul you know that, don't you?"

Catherine nodded, but she wasn't convinced entirely. "Thank you, Joshua," she said, managing a weak smile.

He patted the back of her hand. "Will you come below tonight?"

She shook her head no. "I can't."

Joshua nodded his understanding. "Do you mind if I keep you company for a while?" he asked.

Catherine cast him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Joshua. That's really sweet of you. I dread being alone with my thoughts at the moment."

They spent a quiet evening together and she was very grateful for his patient company and support. At her request Joshua told a couple of fascinating boyhood stories that she enjoyed very much. Some of them made her laugh, others brought tears to her eyes, but all of them helped her understand a little more about the man she loved.

"It must have been wonderful to grow up together, she said. "Like you and Rebecca."

Joshua's eyes softened and he stared off onto space as he answered, "When you're young you don't really appreciate what you have. You don't realize its true value."

Catherine smiled fondly. "But now you do, don't you?"

He straightened and turned to look at her. "Life teaches you to savor every moment of happiness as if it were your last."

The sorrow in his voice tore at Catherine's heart. "Joshua," she asked softly, "what are you going to do now? Will you return to your mission?"

Slowly he shook his head. "My presence there wouldn't do much good. I can help them better if I stay away." He fell silent and Catherine waited patiently for him to continue. Finally he murmured, "I've been away from myself for too long. Maybe it's time to come home."

"Rebecca will be very happy to hear that," Catherine prodded gently.

There was a long pensive silence before Joshua spoke again. "Love - when it happens - is too great a miracle to walk away from it."

Joshua's words brought tears to her eyes. She thought of Vincent and the longing to feel his arms around her became painfully overwhelming.

"Catherine, are you all right?"

Joshua's voice pulled her from her reverie. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded. "I'm okay, thank you."

He rose to his feet. "I should leave now. You need your sleep."

Suddenly there was a strange noise coming from the terrace, as if somebody dropped something heavy. Joshua jumped to his feet, and the apprehension on his face made the hairs on the nape of her neck stand on end. She watched as he crossed the room and stepped out onto the terrace.

"I shouldn't have come here looking like this," Catherine heard an all too familiar voice from outside. "I'm sorry..."

 
"Vincent!" she exclaimed, rushing to his side. Instantly she took in his disheveled appearance. His cloak was torn and tattered and his hair matted and dirty. "Oh my God," she gasped as he looked up at her and she saw a nasty gash at his temple.

"Let's get you into the apartment," Joshua suggested, supporting Vincent's weight as he struggled to get to his feet.

"I'm all right," Vincent insisted, but he allowed them to guide him as he made his way over to the terrace door on shaky legs.

"Give me your cloak," Joshua said, and Vincent shrugged out of it obediently, handing the heavy garment to his friend as he stepped over the threshold.

In the light of the apartment Vincent's wound looked even more terrible, yet he claimed it was only superficial. He straightened and turned his head, locking his gaze to Catherine's. In his eyes she saw all the reassurance she needed. Whatever place he had been to, he hadn't been fleeing from her. That much she knew for certain as she saw the love in his gaze and a silent yearning so deep that it took her breath away.

"I'm going to run you a bath," she told him, and to her surprise Vincent didn't even object.

"I would assist you, Vincent," Joshua offered with a grin, "but I guess we already have a volunteer."

Catherine cast him a reproachful look and he chuckled softly. "Well, I think I'd better go below and tell Father Vincent is safe. I'll be back with a change of clothes in an hour or so."

"Thank you, Joshua," she said over her shoulder as she guided Vincent to the bathroom.

Vincent stood in the middle of the room, hanging his head. She walked over to him and placed a stack of fresh towels on a chair. Then she reached up to help him with the fastenings at his collar. He pulled off his heavy sweater and then grasped her hands, as she wanted to help him out of his shirt.

"I can do that," he murmured, avoiding her gaze.

"Vincent, please tell me what's wrong," she begged.

He remained silent for a long moment, and then he said, "Your touch...is life. You shouldn't waste it on me."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," she replied in bewilderment. "Would you prefer it if I waited for you outside?"

Her heart all but broke as he slowly nodded his head, but she pulled herself together. He had been through a lot, and whatever his reasons may be, if he needed space now, all she could do was give him that much.

"But you'll talk to me later?" she asked quietly.

He inclined his head, looking at her with so much desperation in his eyes that her resolve to keep her distance was weakening.

"Enjoy your bath," she said with a weak smile, turning to leave him alone.

"Catherine," he called out softly.

She whisked around, helpless to keep the hope from her eyes as she looked at him.

"I...may need help with my hair afterwards," he murmured shyly.

"I'll be close by," she promised. "Just call for me when you're ready."

He gave her a tentative smile before averting his gaze to focus on undoing the fastenings of his shirt. Casting one last look in his direction, Catherine closed the door between them.

She stood at the window, staring out into the darkness, when she heard Joshua's knock on the door.

"How's Vincent?" he asked with a concerned glance in the direction of the bathroom door when she let him in.

"He...wanted to be alone," she replied, trying to make her voice sound even.

Joshua squeezed her shoulder compassionately. "He's always been like that. It's his way of dealing with things."

"Alone," Catherine murmured and he nodded.

"He said he might need my help with his hair later," she added.

Joshua's face broke into a huge smile. "Now that's something," he said enigmatically.

"Why?"

"Because Vincent certainly doesn't need help with his hair."

Catherine looked up at Joshua in puzzlement and his features sobered.

"Vincent probably felt your need to be there for him," he explained quietly.

She shook her head, smiling. "Thank you, Joshua."

He gave her a companionable wink before handing her a tote bag with fresh clothes. "The old man sends his thanks. At first he wanted me to take Vincent below immediately, but I could convince him that he's in good hands."

Catherine grinned. "Thanks a lot, Joshua. I'm sure that's exactly what he needed to hear."

Joshua laughed. "It's about time he acknowledged that his son is a grown man."

After Joshua had left, Catherine went to her kitchen to prepare some tea and sandwiches for Vincent, always aware of the noises coming from the bathroom. From the stillness in there she could tell he must have finished his bath. She strained her ears but couldn't hear a thing.

Suddenly the door opened and Vincent appeared, wearing a large towel around his hips while another one was dangling from his hand. His hair was dripping wet and framed his face in unruly tendrils. She walked toward him, taking the towel from his hand.

"Come sit," she ordered, pulling up a chair for him, and he complied.

Gently she began to towel his head, rubbing and squeezing the moisture from his hair. Soon she had to get yet another towel, because his hair was so thick and heavy. Carefully she massaged his scalp with her fingers and as she stole a glance at his face, she saw that his eyes were closed, a fact that made her irrationally happy. For the fraction of a moment she lost herself in that feeling. Instantly his eyes snapped open and he looked up at her questioningly. She gave him a reassuring smile.

Suddenly he seized her wrist and pulled her onto his lap, leaning his forehead against her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean to worry you so."

"Vincent," she said, running her fingers through his wet hair. "What happened? Can you tell me?"

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but all he managed was a heart-rending sigh. She knew he needed more time to come to terms with whatever it was that had happened between Lisa and him.

"Joshua brought you a change of clothes," she said.

The relief that flitted across his face was a palpable thing. It hurt that he felt the need to hide something from her, but she knew she had to accept it if she wanted to be there for him and help him through it, whatever it may be.

When Vincent opened the bag, he raised his brows in surprise. Joshua had brought only night clothes. "It seems Joshua wanted to make certain that I won't go anywhere tonight," he said with a weary smile.

"Joshua is a wise man," Catherine replied, returning to the kitchen to give Vincent privacy to dress.

When she came back with a tray, he had slipped on a pair of soft-looking pants, and her heart was aching with tenderness for him as she watched his long elegant fingers working with the fastenings of his cream-colored cotton shirt.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, setting the tray on the table.

Vincent shook his head, but he did take some tea. Catherine noted deep circles of fatigue around his eyes.

"Let's try to get some sleep," she suggested, half-expecting him to protest, but he just nodded and stretched out on the bed she had prepared for him on the couch. She went to clear the table and put away the dishes and when she returned to him, he was fast asleep.

She studied his peaceful face for a moment before retiring to her bedroom to get some sleep of her own.

In her dream Catherine floated through long, twisted corridors, looking down at people who moved about in tunnels and passageways. As if I were swimming through liquid, transparent rock, she thought. She found herself drawn to Vincent's chamber and as she neared the place of her heart's desire, she saw the woman with the red dress, walking barefoot through the tunnels. Curiously she followed her, and the next moment she was there, standing before Vincent's bed, looking down at his sleeping form. Catherine wanted to shout and warn him, but her voice deserted her. Desperately she tried again and again, but all she produced were strangled sobs.

"Shhh," she heard the dearest voice in the world, and a pair of strong, warm hands held her securely, shaking her gently. "It's just been a dream," Vincent said soothingly. "You're safe."

Relieved, Catherine pressed into him, holding him tight. "I'm sorry I woke you up," she murmured.

"Tell me," he urged quietly, and she did, feeling him tense in her arms as she came to the part with the woman in the red dress.

"But Lisa wore a light blue gown as she left your chamber," she said, starting as he sat up abruptly.

"Did she...talk to you?" he inquired hesitantly, and Catherine's heart sank.

"Why?" she asked, making an effort not to sound suspicious. She swallowed the question that leapt to the tip of her tongue, although she was dying to know what he thought Lisa might have told her.

"No," she said at last. "She didn't talk. She just rushed by me." Turning to face him more fully, she asked, "Did you...see her again after that?"

Vincent nodded his head, and her heart constricted with apprehension. "She came to me for comfort," he began. "You have to know Lisa to understand that the only comfort for her is to be desirable. I know that now, but I didn't know it at the moment I awoke and looked up into her face. I saw desire there - not particularly for me, but more for...feeling alive and being desired in return. I should have listened to her before sending her away like that."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Catherine interjected. "She hurt you so many times and yet..."

Vincent sat up and reached for her to pull her to him. Smoothing a strand of hair from her forehead, he began to speak.

"After I had rejected her, Lisa started to cry and told me she is severely ill. She will have to have an operation that will...change her body...undermine her female sense of self in a profound way. She was desperately seeking for consolation, for help of any kind, but at that moment I simply wasn't capable of comprehending, of truly understanding what was happening. That is why I felt I had to find her and talk to her, tell her that I had understood at last, but that what she wanted from me was impossible because...because my heart belongs to somebody else."

Ashamed of her jealousy, Catherine lowered her gaze. "Oh, Vincent," she said huskily. "I had no idea."

He pulled her to him more tightly. "Neither had I. It was difficult to find her, to get to her. She didn't want to listen to me. She was deeply offended by my rejection. In her agitation she left the hotel and as I followed her, I saw that some other men did, too. Lisa and I didn't talk, but at least I was able to prevent those men from hurting her."

"Was that how you got your injury?" Catherine asked. "What happened?"

"Fortunately it was very dark in that alley," he replied. "I fought them. One of them hit me with something solid and heavy. They fled and I'm afraid I passed out between the dumpsters, amid the garbage."

"Oh no," she gasped. "Do you think they saw you?"

"I don't think so."

The thought wouldn't leave her alone. "What if they did? What if they got Lisa after all and questioned her about what they had seen?"

"Lisa stayed with me until I came to again," he reassured her, pulling her close. "She thanked me and asked me if I could manage on my own. When I said yes, she told me she was going to be okay and that I shouldn't worry about her."

Catherine sat there in silence, digesting everything she had just learned.

"You should go back to sleep now," Vincent suggested at last. To her vast surprise he lay down beside her and pulled her to his side. She snuggled up to him and closed her eyes, but the images of her dream haunted her. "Did Lisa actually try to sleep with you?" she asked without looking at him.

He didn't answer right away, but then he whispered, "Yes."

Catherine didn't dare ask any further. It drove her crazy to speculate about what had happened.

"Sleep now," he rasped, holding her tightly against him.

"How can I sleep when my mind can't stop picturing all kinds of painful scenarios?" she protested.

He lifted his head, kissing her tenderly. "Lisa...came into my bed, pressing her body against mine when I was still asleep. As soon as I awoke..."

"Maybe I don't want to hear this after all," Catherine interjected, and he brushed a reassuring kiss onto her forehead.

"Nothing happened," he continued, but his eyes darted away from hers for a moment.

"Nothing?" she pursued.

Slowly he rolled himself away from her and sat up. "She...started to expose her body to me." Wordlessly Catherine put her arms around him, giving him an encouraging squeeze. He turned his head and looked at her. "Maybe I shouldn't have told you that."

"Vincent, my imagination has been running riot ever since the moment I saw her clutching her torn gown to her chest. How did that happen?"

He looked away. "We...wrestled. I struggled to restrain her, to keep her from undressing. She became desperate and started to fight me in earnest. I don't remember how exactly it happened, but the gown got torn in the process of our fight."

Catherine thought fleetingly that what happened in Vincent's bed must have looked like lovemaking to some unassuming passerby. Images from her dream passed through her mind, of the woman in red making ardent love to Vincent.

"Vincent," she pressed gently. "What makes you feel so bad? What she did is not your fault. Whatever it was that she did, you didn't act on it."

"Of course not," he said hoarsely, swinging his feet to the floor.

She inched over to him, watching with concern how he clenched his hands into tight fists in his lap. "You're shaking," she observed worriedly. "I'm sorry, Vincent. I didn't mean to push you so. I..."

He spun around to face her. "You have every right to ask. And you certainly deserve the truth."

His outburst stunned her into silence. She watched patiently as he threw back his head and released a ragged sigh.

"The image you have of me," he began, seemingly out of context, "is one-sided. There aren't any shadows in it."

"You're probably right," she conceded. "I simply don't think of shadows when I think of you, because there's so much light in you."

He tilted his head and smiled at her sadly. "That's illogical. Where there is light, there have to be shadows."

"That's right, of course," she admitted pensively, trying to figure out where he was leading her. When he spoke again, she was totally unprepared for his confession.

"My body responded to her," Vincent said quietly and Catherine could feel his anguish so clearly as if it were her own. Suddenly everything fell into place and she understood why he had behaved the way he did and what had been tormenting him all the time. "I didn't want it, and yet..." His voice broke in a hoarse sob. Completely at a loss for words, she started rocking him soothingly, but he tensed. "What does that mean?" he asked in despair. "What does that make me?"

"It means nothing," she replied with conviction. "The mere impulse of your body or mind doesn't mean anything unless you want it and act on it. That's what you told me once, remember?" She closed her eyes, concentrating. "It was when I confessed to you that I almost left you to your fate in order to escape after the cave-in. I was ashamed that I was capable of a thought like that, but you told me our responsibility lies only with the way we act on our thoughts in the end."

Slowly he shook his head against her shoulder. "Still, it frightens me to think that I have so little control," he murmured.

"But you were in complete control," she insisted. "Otherwise you would have..."

Quickly he covered her lips with his hand. "Never," he said firmly.

Tears were running down his cheeks, yet for the first time in days his eyes were clear and deep.

"I love you," she breathed, cupping one hand around his cheek. He covered it with his palm and leaned desperately into her touch.

"I was...afraid to tell you," he whispered.

"I know," she replied, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth, "but I'm glad you did."

His arms stole around her waist and he gathered her close, burying his face in the folds of her pajama top. Suddenly he inhaled deeply and she felt the first familiar sparks of arousal springing to life between them. Gently he pushed her at arm's length.