Winds Of Eternity Part 36

Angelique turned away, wrapping her arms around her waist tightly, and Barnabas recognized that sign of her temper68.

held in check. "Then I will ask to remain here, as her maid," she said. Then she looked at him again, a little uncertain. "If you want me to, that is."

"I regret that I can see no other way," he told her, pulling her against him. "But is it fair to you? You should have more."

She silenced him by placing a hand to his lips. "All I want, my darling, is your love. It is all I have wanted since the first moment I saw you on Martinique." She smiled as he began to kiss her fingers. "And to think that the Countess almost left me there because she was afraid I was still not well - " She paused, her eyes wide with - did he see fear there?

Barnabas stopped kissing her hand, but retained the hold. "You were ill?"

"No. Not really," she said in a desperate voice.

His grip on her hand tightened. "Don't lie to me, Angelique."

"I - fell down some stairs a week after you left. I fainted. I had a - difficult time convincing the Countess - " She stopped again, unwilling to continue.

"Convincing her of what? Tell me."

"It cannot matter now. I do not think you should know."

"Does it concern me?"

"It - did," she admitted reluctantly.

"Then I have a right to know." A tear escaped to roll down her cheek. "You're crying."

"No," she denied heatedly, wiping the tell-tale moisture away. "I finished crying that night, alone in my room." She lowered her head as if suddenly very tired. "Very well, Barnabas. I'll tell you." She raised her eyes to watch his face. "The reason I fell, the reason I became faint, was that I was with child."

"You - no," he denied. He had never suspected. No wonder she had been so determined to have him.

"I admitted it to myself the day you left. I told no one. I planned to write you, let you know -"

"But you fell."

"And lost the child. The doctor said that it was a boy."

Barnabas crushed her against him, sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling her with him. "I should have been with you." His lips found hers, and when he pulled away, said, "I'll find some way out of marrying Josette. We can leave -"

She reached up to touch his face. "I can't allow you to leave your family and home. I know how much they mean to you. I will be content with - with my position, as long as I know I have your love."

"Always," he promised. "You will always have that, my darling. It is late now. Rest. We will talk again tomorrow." His kiss was gentle as she lay back on the bed. After her eyes closed and her breathing became even, he went to the door where Julia stood. "How much did you hear?" he asked softly, his voice deep with emotion.

"Enough."

"I realize now that things needn't have happened the way they did. If I had gone to her, been honest with myself and with her, I would have married Josette and still had Angelique's love."

Julia shook her head. "It would never have worked, Barnabas. You could never have been unfaithful to Josette once she was your wife."

His eyes were on the woman on the bed. "You think not, Julia? There has always been a part of me that only Angelique could touch, could satisfy. It's still there." He bent to lift her into his arms.

"Where are you taking her?" Julia asked, following.

"Where she belongs." He took her to the master bedroom, laid her on the bed there, and pulled the covers up.

Thunder echoed through the ancient building, and Julia went to the window. "There's a storm brewing."

"They'll understand at Collinwood that you both decided to stay here because of it," Barnabas said. "You can use Josette's room."69.

"I have some work to do in the lab. I'll be there when she wakes again."

"Thank you, Julia."

It was several hours before Angelique again opened her eyes. Julia and Willie had long since retired to their respective beds, and the storm was buffeting the walls of the house with furious intensity. Barnabas watched the storm, thinking that the frequent storms seemed to reflect the nature of the Collins family. Most of the time they were almost coldly emotionless. But when those emotions did surface, they did so with often destructive fury. A soft moan drew Barnabas back to the bed. He sat on the edge, taking one of her soft hands in his. "Angelique."

Her eyes opened, focusing on his face. "Barnabas. Where are we?"

"In our room."

"Our room? I had the strangest dream."

He smiled. "What about?"

"It was about the day I first arrived here. You came to my room on the third floor and told me - You told me that you wanted me to stay here. That you loved me. I told you - " she stopped, afraid to go any further.

"You told me about our son," he finished for her. As her eyes widened, he said, "It was no dream, my darling. It happened, but only a few hours ago."

"A - few hours? Yes. I'm - beginning to remember. I came here with Julia. We were all in my old room. There was an accident -"

"Yes."

"In France. My - car went into a lake. I was thrown clear, started walking, trying to find help."

"You're here now. That's all that matters."

Her eyes searched his face lovingly. "I never thought I would see you again."

"Nor I you. When they told me you were dead, I almost gave up."

"Why?" she asked, her tone frankly disbelieving. "The last time I was here, you

made it painfully clear that we could never be more than friends. Friends. Do you have the slightest idea how much I hate to hear you use that word?"

"I think I do. I suppose believing I had lost you shocked me into being honest with myself for the first time in years. I realized that I had always loved you, but had never admitted it. I had no real choice but to marry Josette. My father would never have welcomed you into the family, and I knew it. So I resolved to put my feelings for you aside and convinced myself that I loved Josette. Perhaps I did, but I know that after a while her even-tempered acquiescence would have bored me and I would have needed more. Perhaps our own marriage might have worked eventually had I not discovered the truth about you - and if Josette had returned to Martinique." He swung to face her, asking abruptly, "Why didn't you tell me about our child?"

"It would only have complicated matters. Oh, I wanted to tell you - and Josette. I wanted to see the shocked look on her face, but it was still too painful for me." Her strained features revealed that it was still painful. "I made the Countess promise not to tell anyone. She believed that the father was a - sailor I had met in town."

"You still should have told me," he insisted. "I had a right to know."

"Why?" she demanded in a hurt and angry voice. Her eyes met his, flashing blue fire. "You left me in Martinique, remember, with every intention of marrying Josette and forgetting me. I wasn't important. I didn't matter."