

# Vivienne

Part Un

Le Perdu et Retrouve

## Copyright

Vivienne – Le Perdu et Retrouvé

Copyright: S. M. Bowles

Published: June 2014

Publisher: S. M. Bowles

The right of S. M. Bowles to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

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If you have any questions or comments for the author please use the following e-mail address:

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## Author's Note:

Vivienne is a two-part novel with part one taking place in southwestern France during the late 1800's and part two taking place during the early 1900's in America. I tried to keep the book historically accurate but this is a work of fiction and some creative license has been taken.

##

## Table of Contents

Chapitre Un

Chapitre Deux

Chapitre Trois

Chapitre Quatre

Chapitre Cinq

Chapitre Six

Chapitre Sept

Chapitre Huit

Chapitre Neuf

Chapitre Dix

Chapitre Onze

Chapitre Douze

Chapitre Treize

Chapitre Quatorze

Chapitre Quinze

Chapitre Seize

Chapitre Dix-Sept

Chapitre Dix-Huit

Chapitre Dix-Neuf

Chapitre Vingt

Epilogue

## Chapitre Un

May 1865 – Montagrier, France

"Oh," I rubbed my shoulder as I ran. "I hate them! I hate them!" My head, my heart, my lungs and legs were aching but I didn't dare stop. I glanced back to see if my brothers and their hounds were gaining on me. As I did, I came to a sudden slope. I tried stopping but stepped on a loose stone and tumbled down. Somehow, I caught myself and rose to my feet.

As I neared the first of the farms that dotted our property my eyes darted left and right searching for a place where I could hide. I rarely came this way and it all seemed so unfamiliar. A barn loomed up ahead of me and as I rounded the corner to duck inside, I ran straight into the stable boy. The impact propelled me backwards a foot or two and if it weren't for his quick reflexes, I would have fallen firmly on my backside.

"Whoa," he smiled but as he studied my expression during those few short seconds, he realized I was in trouble. "Are you all right, Mademoiselle? What's wrong?"

"My brothers," I panted unable to say anything more.

He tilted his head and listened. We heard the hounds and how close they were getting. It only took an instant for him to understand, "Here," he pulled me into the barn. He hurried me up into the loft and raced back down to face my brothers.

I watched him plant his feet and square his shoulders as the boys and their dogs burst through the doorway. The dogs charged him and he kicked first one then the other to the side. Each of the hounds gave a dreadful yelp while my brothers watched in shocking disbelief. The three of them, my two brothers and the stable boy, stood several feet apart eyeing one another. They appeared nearly the same age. The stable boy gave up about an inch to my oldest brother, Philippe, but seemed much stronger from the rigors of working on the farm.

"Move aside, boy!"

"Huh, and why would I do that, little boy?" he threw back.

It caught Phillipe off guard and for a moment he didn't seem to know what to do. He shook his head then looked at my other brother, Jean. They nodded to one another. "Because we said so!" Philippe insisted and took a step forward.

The stable boy changed his stance, "I hope by we, you mean more than you two, because I am not going anywhere."

"Is that so?" Philippe nudged Jean and they hurled themselves at the boy.

A moment later they were both lying on their backs; each covering one of their eyes.

"I think you should get your dogs and go home now," the boy stood over them. "And if I ever catch you causing trouble in my barn again, I'll make sure you leave with more than sore eyes."

My brothers scampered back, "We're not leaving without our sister."

"Is that so?" the boy challenged Philippe.

"Vivienne, Mother wants you home. Now!"

I shook my head from where I stood peering over the edge of the loft. The stable boy saw how frightened I was.

"I'll make sure she gets there," he answered for me. "Run along now," he chased them away with the dogs close on their heels. When he came back he called up, "It's safe, Vivienne. You can come down."

I slowly descended and approached the boy with my hand outstretched. "Oh, merci," I stuttered when I realized I didn't know how to address him. "I'm afraid I don't remember your name."

He took my hand and gave an awkward bow, "I don't think we've ever met. I'm Gabriel."

We were both flustered and stood silent and still, smiling nervously. I felt he was right and that we had never met though I thought he looked familiar somehow. "Well," Gabriel sighed and it seemed to release all the tension he felt from confronting my brothers. "I guess I should get you home," he went to a stall and clicked the latch then led one of the mares out.

"Oh, you needn't trouble yourself."

"It's no trouble. Besides it wouldn't be right for me to say I would do something and then not."

I tried arguing against it but Gabriel wouldn't listen. He tethered the mare before deftly fastening her saddle and bridling her. When he finished, he hoisted himself onto her back and held his hand out. With only my brothers for examples, it was hard for me to believe a boy could be so nice. I reached up and Gabriel steadied me as I climbed into the saddle in front of him. He waited until I was comfortable then wrapped his arms around me and urged the horse out of the barn.

As we followed the path towards my family's house Gabriel asked me why I was so afraid of my brothers and why were they chasing me.

I was reluctant to tell him but he seemed sincerely concerned. I explained how my father had just come home and given them each slingshots. When they tired of practicing on the targets that came with their gifts they looked for something more challenging. They saw me gathering wildflowers in the field and set their dogs on me to get me moving. One of them caught me in the shoulder before I realized what was happening but most of their missiles had gone wide. I urged my sleeve down to show him the mark it left.

"Mon Dieu! Cowards!" Gabriel spat, "Have they always been such bullies?"

"Oui," I mumbled forlorn.

"You should tell your father so he can punish them and take their slings away."

I shook my head.

"Non, but why, Vivienne, surely your papa would..."

"Non, he wouldn't understand. He would tell me they were just being boys and that's what boys do."

"What about your mama?"

"Mama hates me. She would probably be grateful," the words spilled out before I could stop them.

Gabriel looked at me wondering if I really thought it was true. "You don't believe that, do you?"

I started to cry.

"Oh, chérie, please. I'm sorry," he apologized as we approached the house.

"It's all right, Gabriel," I wiped my tears and forced a smile. "Thank you for helping for me," I said as he eased me down from the saddle. "You are a true gentleman," I took his hand in both of mine.

He seemed hesitant to let me go after what I told him, "Will you come visit me again?"

"Mais oui!" I beamed up at him.

"Demain?"

"Vivienne, is that you?" my father called from the doorway.

"Oui, Papa."

"Demain!" Gabriel insisted.

"Oui, oui, demain," I whispered and whirled away.

My family and I lived in France. We owned a vineyard in the southwestern part of the country. There were several small farms dotting our property. We owned those as well and leased them to families of workers. Some cared for our stables and livestock, others grew crops or worked with the prendeurs who managed the vineyards.

My father was a social man who preferred the active variety of Paris to the quiet privacy of the French countryside. He spent most of his time in the city and would only come home when he needed to rest. Despite his lack of paternal concern he was kind and generous while he was with us and it was easy to love him.

When I was younger and more naïve, I often tried convincing myself he would stay whenever he returned. Unfortunately though, once he felt well enough, he would vanish again and my heart would fill with bitterness at the sudden loss. I grew to love him less and less over the years. His visits grew further and further apart and each stay shorter and shorter. By the time I turned 14 he seemed a virtual stranger. I often wondered if I saw him anywhere but home if I would even recognize him.

My mother, too, was an absentee parent, though in quite a different way.

She spent most of her days in bed with some imagined illness or other. I always suspected there was more to it than sickness. It wasn't until I was an adult and had a graver understanding of the world that I realized what was wrong. She took laudanum to help with all her complaints and had become an addict.

My mother started using it not long after my birth. She didn't recover as quickly as she did when she had my two brothers. Her pregnancy hadn't gone well and she was in labor for two days before I was born. It left her longer abed than she would have liked.

Though she never spoke of it openly, in her heart she must have known of my father's tendency to stray. She was eager to be up and around, and to regain her fresh figure and bloom. Her haste to be well and to keep my father to herself led her to inquire of the local médecin for a means of speeding her recovery.

Her plan backfired though and the more dependent she became the faster her youth and beauty slipped away.

Sometimes I thought she blamed me and hated me for coming into her happy world. She never showed me the same kindness and affection she showered on my brothers. They were always first in her thoughts. If I ever expressed their faults or flaws in any way, she would insist I had exaggerated their exploits in a childish bid for attention. She never punished them. Rather than curbing their misbehavior she would end our discussions with, "I'll talk to your father when he comes home and he will set them straight as he sees fit."

So nothing ever came of my complaints. Either she forgot them by the time my father returned or he was too weary from his travels. Then he, too, would brush their misdemeanors aside and tell us to settle it between ourselves. My parent's indifference gave my brothers license to tease and torture me at their will so I learned to avoid them whenever possible.

As I approached the house I looked back and watched Gabriel disappear over the horizon, "Who was that?" my father asked curiously.

"The stable boy, Gabriel," I paused wondering how much if any of the day's events I should tell him. Just then my brothers rounded the side of the house. I raised my voice so they would be sure to hear my explanation, "I was chasing butterflies and not looking where I was going. I tumbled down the hill and twisted my ankle. Gabriel brought me home, Papa, because I could not walk." It was close enough to the truth to sound believable.

I prayed the lie would protect me from any repercussions for the time being. I knew my brothers would want revenge, but at least it wouldn't be immediate. They eyed me suspiciously but I turned and held my head high as I limped up the stairs and into the house.

"I have a friend," I thought to myself and smiled imagining my life forever changed now that I had an ally. I made my way to my room to freshen up and ready myself for dinner.

## Chapitre Deux

When I woke the following morning, I hurried to get dressed then quietly slipped from my room and made my way to the kitchen. I found a basket our chef used to gather herbs and placed it on the table. After rifling through the pantry and our other stores of food I selected several of my favorite things and arranged them one after the other in the basket.

Once I felt satisfied with my cache, I collected my coat and shoes then stepped out into the dewy morning air. I hoped I wasn't too early. We hadn't made formal plans but I promised Gabriel I would come see him. I knew I needed to get out before my brothers woke. If they saw me and wondered what I was up to, they would have ruined my opportunity.

I didn't know which house was his so once I made it to the farmhouses I turned and headed towards the barn where we met the previous afternoon. I walked through the open door and saw Gabriel sitting on the steps leading up to the loft. He had a book in his hands and he was chewing on the end of a long, thin straw.

He didn't hear me come in so I watched him for a moment nervous and unsure how I should announce myself. A lock of his hair fell into his eyes and when he brushed it aside he caught sight of me standing in the doorway smiling at him.

He put his book on the steps and hopped down, "Vivienne, you came!" his face was bright with happiness.

"Oui, I promised, Je n'ai pas?"

"It's early. I didn't expect you so soon."

"But you were waiting for me."

"What makes you so sure?" he cocked his head at me. Suddenly I wasn't so sure and looked away embarrassed by my assumption. He laughed a little, "I'm teasing! Of course I was waiting for you. I came early so I wouldn't miss you!"

It was such a relief but my heart still raced and pounded against my chest. I needed a distraction and pointed to his book, "What are you reading?" I asked.

"Les Trois Mousquetaires."

"Dumas," I nodded, "I haven't read it but my brothers have." I regretted bringing them up and spoiling the moment. It reminded me of the day they decided to swordplay with some sticks they found and sharpened into vicious points. They darted up the stairs fighting one another and shouting, "Tous pour un et un pour tous!" as I made my way down. I wasn't sure whose but one of their swords caught me in the temple. Neither would confess and both insisted it wasn't on purpose so they didn't get in any trouble. My mother had Cook pinch the wound together and plaster it up. It only left a tiny scar but it would always be there to remind me.

Though I didn't tell Gabriel the story he could see how unhappy mentioning my brothers made me and he changed the subject.

"You've brought a basket. Are we picnicking?"

"Oh, yes. I hoped it would be a nice way to say thank you again for helping me yesterday."

Gabriel rifled through my supplies, "Mmm, it looks like I'm the one who should thank you! Should we eat here or would you prefer to ride somewhere?"

"Oh, not here," I shook my head.

He seemed to understand and smiled then went to the nearest stall and brought his mare out. After he saddled her, Gabriel turned to fetch a second. As he did Philippe and Jean burst into the doorway with their slings drawn and ready. There was no time to think. Gabriel looked at me, leapt onto his mare's back and cried, "Give me your hand!" I reached up and with his help flung myself into the saddle behind him. He kicked the stirrups and mowed my brothers down as they pelted us on our way by.

"Au revoir mes amis!" He called back. There was laughter in his voice and the escape was so thrilling I couldn't help smiling, too. We raced across the fields and headed towards the vineyards. "Do you think they'll come after us?" he asked.

I knew it would have been impossible for them to catch us on foot and I wasn't sure whether they would bother to saddle their own horses or not. "They might," I offered while I clung to the saddle and fought to keep myself seated. I nearly lost our basket as we galloped away but Gabriel noticed me struggling to keep hold of it and slowed our pace.

"Well, we can ride in the stream that way they'll have to guess which direction we went." He turned from the path to the vineyards and headed towards the forest. The stream trickled along several yards beyond the tree line and once we were in it we backtracked towards the farmhouses. "If your brothers find our trail they will follow it to the stream and imagine us to be moving along it away from them. We'll keep doubling back and by the time they realize what we've done it'll be too late."

"That sounds like a good idea."

We seemed safe for the moment and when I realized it I flushed with embarrassment for being so close and holding so tightly to Gabriel. I loosened my grip and shyly inched further away from him.

"Are you uncomfortable?" he stole a glance over his shoulder at me, "We can change places if you'd like."

"Oh, no, I should stay here. If we stop, it might give them a chance to catch up."

He nodded his understanding and we continued picking our way upstream, meandering along at an easy pace. I strained my ears and looked behind us from time to time but there was no sign of my brothers. Eventually Gabriel broke away from the stream and brought us into a small clearing. There was a huge, level boulder in the center and several fallen trees but other than that it was quite unremarkable.

He slipped from the saddle and took the basket from me. After placing it on the boulder Gabriel turned back to help me down. When I slid off the horse's back and stood facing him, I couldn't turn my eyes away.

Most everything about him seemed so ordinary; his hair – dark brown and somewhat coppery, sun-kissed complexion, full lips, slightly square jaw line, but then I noticed, really noticed, his eyes for the first time. I couldn't tell if they were blue or green or brown because they seemed to reflect all those colors and to shift and change with each second that passed.

"It's a shame we don't have a blanket," he led me towards the boulder. "Here," he put his hands on my waist and tucked me up on the edge before vaulting up beside me. He rifled through the basket and pulled out the kerchief I used to wrap the bread. Gabriel spread it between us and laid out our picnic. Once he finished he looked everything over, "So many wonderful things, I can't decide where to begin!"

"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I brought a little of everything," I blushed.

"Well, I guess it's time we got to know one another, n'est-ce pas? You first. Ask me anything...anything at all!"

"Oh, uh, how old are you?"

"I'm 16; and you?"

"I'm 14; I'll be 15 in August."

He picked up an apple and took a generous bite, "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot myself; I should have offered it to you first. Here," he reached into his boot and pulled out a small, intricate blade. He wiped it on the kerchief then carved off a slice of the apple for me. "And your brothers?"

"Philippe is 17 and Jean is 16."

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Gabriel looked away, "Non, my mother died when I was born. It has only been me and Papa ever since."

I reached out and rested my hand on his knee, "I'm so sorry," I whispered.

"Non, it's fine, I never knew her. It's only sad because I'm sure my father loved her very much."

I nibbled my apple slice and while we took turns asking questions of one another, the rest of our picnic slowly disappeared. Gabriel was easy to talk to and had hundreds of stories about his life on the farm. He had me laughing and smiling throughout the morning. At one point there was a lull in the conversation and we both realized how uncomfortable we were getting from sitting on the rock so long. He asked if I wanted to stretch my legs and helped me down. Together we walked in circles around the little clearing and continued our conversation.

"I wish we had met sooner," I sighed, "how have we lived so near one another and never met?"

"I have been wondering the same thing," he stopped and faced me. He took my hands in his, "I'm not sure but I'm so happy that we have."

Flustered, I looked away, "Gabriel, it's getting late. I think I should go home now."

"Oui," he said forlorn, "your family might be wondering where you are but first..." he led me back to the boulder. "I have rescued you twice now," he said, "it's customary to reward your champion with a favour to show your appreciation." There was a touch of humor in his voice but an earnestness in his expression which made me believe he was being sincere.

I wasn't wearing gloves, a bonnet or ribbons of any sort, "I'm afraid I have nothing to offer you..." I giggled as I played along, "my gallant sir."

"Ah, but you have," he took the little knife from where he left it during our picnic. He turned me around and bundled all but a handful of hair from the back of my neck, "Hold it up for me," he said. When I did he used the knife to snip the long lock from the base of my neck. He handed it to me and knelt down, "Please, milady, a token of your affection," he begged.

I took the lock of hair and wound it round his wrist before tying it in a loose knot. Everything grew a little brighter when he stood up. He took my face in his hands then kissed me, softly, gently, lovingly. "I know I shouldn't say this, Vivienne," he pressed his forehead to mine and whispered against my lips, "but I love you," he said, "and someday I want you to love me."

Trembling, I wound my arms around his neck, "Oh, Gabriel..." I whispered back. "I'm so happy you said that because I...I love you, too, and I was hoping the same thing!"

We stood holding one another for several minutes. After we stepped apart, he carefully repacked the basket before collecting the mare and climbing into the saddle. He slid back as far as he could and helped me take a seat in front of him.

His arms caressed my sides and I leaned my head against his chest while we rode back to the stream. We didn't pull apart until we were in the open again. Gabriel offered to bring me home but I refused imagining the curiosity it would raise if anyone in my family saw us together.

"When will I see you again?"

"I'm not sure, Gabriel, but I will come, as soon as I can. I promise."

He smiled and kissed my cheek, "There," he pointed, "that is my house. If I'm not in the barn, you can find me there."

I nodded, "Goodbye, Gabriel," and waved as I hurried up the path.

## Chapitre Trois

No one even noticed I hadn't been home. My father was readying himself to go back to Paris, my mother in her room and my brothers nowhere to be found. I wondered if they were still looking for me and Gabriel so I asked my father if he had seen them.

"Non, petit, I haven't seen them today. They left before I woke and haven't been home since," he turned back to his packing.

I wondered why they hadn't come back and it made me a little nervous, "I guess they are having fun somewhere and lost track of time. I'm sure they'll be home soon."

"Oui," he answered as he continued arranging his portmanteau.

"Maybe I'll check with Cook. Perhaps they went to the kitchen this afternoon and had lunch."

"Oui, oui," he waved me away, "that's a good idea."

I turned and trudged back downstairs to the kitchen. Cook had no better information than my father had. I was ashamed of myself for worrying about them because they certainly did not deserve my concern but it was getting late.

After I finished talking with Cook, I went upstairs and poked my head in my mother's room. She was sleeping and I didn't dare wake her to ask if she had seen them. I closed the door and went to my bedroom to freshen up before dinnertime. When Cook rang the bell letting us know the evening meal was ready, I hurried to the dining room. My father arrived right after me then my mother sluggishly followed. We sat waiting for the boys to appear but they never did.

Several minutes passed then my father stood up, "Well, let's not let this go to waste; I've much to do before I leave tomorrow." He served my mother and I before hastily eating his dinner.

My mother picked away at hers and I picked away at mine. Before either of us finished, my father got up, kissed each of our cheeks and hurried from the dining room.

"Mama, I haven't seen Philippe and Jean since this morning, have you?" I tried sounding nonchalant.

She shook her head and sipped her wine, "I have not."

"Aren't you worried? It's getting dark."

"The boys can take care of themselves, they are practically men after all," she shook her head at me.

"Of course, Mama."

We spent the rest of our meal in silence. After dinner my mother went back to her room to rest. As I made my way upstairs I considered running to the farmhouses so I could find Gabriel and tell him that my brothers were missing. No one had seen them since we left them at the barn that morning. I wasn't sure what else I should do. My mother wasn't lucid enough for any real fear and my father too wrapped up in his own concerns to consider that something might be wrong.

I paced the floor in my bedroom for several minutes. When I stopped and glanced at the clock, I decided I had no choice. I had to do something before it grew too dark for anyone to find them. I laced my boots and tossed a heavy shawl over my shoulders. A minute later I was at the front door and onto the porch. Once outside I ran the rest of the way to the farmhouses.

It took a moment to get my bearings and remember which one Gabriel had pointed out as his. I struggled to catch my breath then raised my hand to knock. As I stood there a pang of indecision ran through me until I heard Gabriel's laughter. It strengthened my resolve and I gave the door a quick rap.

"Vivienne," he looked completely surprised when he opened the door.

"Oh, Gabriel, I didn't know what else to do," my story came pouring out. His father full of curiosity moved closer and stood behind him while they each listened intently. "I'm sure there's no reason for me to worry, but, but..."

"Non, I'm glad you came," he held the door wide, "come in, and we'll decide what we should do."

"Non, there's no time for that," Gabriel's father said as he pulled on his boots. "You and I will go, and Deaglan, too, if he's home. He can bring the dogs."

Gabriel's father spoke and acted with a reassuring command. He did everything with great efficiency and within minutes they had lanterns and a small party mounted and ready to search for my brothers.

"Can you wait here, or do you need someone to take you home?" Gabriel asked.

"I'll wait."

He nodded and pecked my cheek.

I watched until they were out of view then closed the door. It seemed strange being in a house that wasn't my own. I looked around and though I knew I shouldn't I walked throughout the small rooms and examined everything I saw as I went.

The furnishings weren't very elaborate but they looked sturdy, well-built and quite comfortable. The floors were clean, smooth and covered with several strategically placed carpets. None of them were threadbare but they looked worn from many years of use. I didn't notice any hangings or portraits on the whitewashed walls but I found a small photograph sitting on the mantle.

As soon as I picked it up, I realized it must have been Gabriel's mother. She sat at a piano with her fingers poised on the keys as she looked over her shoulder smiling with warmth and happiness. It was obvious whoever had taken her picture posed her that way but her expression looked genuine. I decided she must have been a vibrant lady while she lived. She was very beautiful and I smiled as I caressed the frame and put it back in its place.

Towards the back of the house was a stairway leading to the second floor. Again, knowing I shouldn't, I couldn't stop myself from heading upstairs and continuing my exploration of Gabriel's home. The first room I came to appeared to be his father's, so I only took a cursory glance.

Gabriel's room was whitewashed just like the rest of the house. He had a narrow bed against one wall, a small writing desk on another and a set of drawers standing against the third. The writing desk was covered with papers; sketches done in sharp, brisk strokes. Most were landscapes or animals and birds. The top one looked recent and seemed like an outline of a person. It was hard to make out since the sun was setting and the room was cast in shadow. I brought it to the window to have a better look.

"Oh!" I sucked in my breath, "It's me!" There was no mistaking. It looked masterfully done and as I studied it in the dusky light, I shook my head thinking he made me far prettier than I was. Then I wondered, "Is this how he sees me?" The thought made me dizzy with happiness. Worried I might ruin it I returned it to the desk.

As I placed it, I caught sight of small jewelry case or something similar and eased it open. Tucked inside were several of Gabriel's treasures. I rifled through them and found the lock of hair he clipped from me. He had bound it together at one end and it looked as though he planned to weave or braid it into something more permanent.

I put it back and as I let the lid fall closed, I heard raised voices nearing the house. All my worries came flooding back. I hurried from Gabriel's room and ran to the front door. As soon as I stepped onto the small porch I saw them. Gabriel's father was carrying Philippe and motioned me aside so he could pass. When Gabriel dismounted Jean tumbled from behind him. Gabriel managed to catch him and while he steadied him I rushed to where they stood and helped brace my brother up.

"What happened?" I asked.

"We're not sure. I found Philippe with his leg pinned beneath a tree that had toppled over on him. Jean must have hit his head but I'm not sure how. He could barely speak or make any sense when we found him." We urged Jean up the stairs and into the house as Gabriel continued explaining what he knew. "He may have a concussion but Papa says neither of them has broken any bones. Philippe's leg is torn and badly bruised. Once Papa dresses it, he may need a crutch for a week or two."

Gabriel helped Jean to a chair in the sitting room. "Jean," I squatted down and looked him in the eyes, "Jean?" His gaze went in and out of focus. "Jean, look at me, it's Vivienne," I gave him a gentle shake.

"Viv?" he grinned.

"Yes, Jean, it's me. Can you see me?" He lolled forward in a drunken manner, "We need to get them home somehow," I looked up at Gabriel.

He nodded, "Deaglan went for the wagon. After Papa has done what he can for Philippe, we'll bring you home."

I stood up and threw my arms around Gabriel sobbing, "It's our fault isn't it? They were trying to find us; I'm sure of it!"

"Non, sssh, love, sssh. They did something foolish, that's all. You can't take the blame for that. They made their own choices and their own mistakes. That's what led them into trouble, not you," he stroked my hair and back soothing me.

I wanted to believe him and the longer he held me the easier it was to accept what he said was true. I closed my eyes and slowly relaxed while his fingers ran up and down my spine. His touch made me remember our kiss; the pressure of his lips against mine and how electric and alive it made me feel. My stomach did an excited little flip and I tilted my head back. He must have noticed it too, but when he bent towards me someone coughed from the hallway and shook us to our senses.

"Deaglan, there you are," Gabriel looked up blushing and smiling for being caught in an unguarded moment.

"Oui, here I am," the boy winked.

"Vivienne, this is my friend Deaglan. You'll need to forgive his accent; he's from Ireland and just learning French."

I held my hand out, "It's nice to meet you, Deaglan," I said in my best English. He wasn't a very handsome boy but when he smiled he brightened considerably.

"It's nice to meet you...Vivienne," he looked at Gabriel and I sensed a secret exchange pass between them. "So your brothers are the ones who forced us from our supper tables?"

"Oui...uh, yes, please forgive them. They are..." I couldn't think of a suitable English word.

"Troublemakers," Deaglan suggested.

I giggled, "That's not what I was going to say."

"But what you were thinking."

I knew we would be friends.

Gabriel's father came into the room, "I've done what I can. It's not as bad as it first looked. Is the wagon ready?"

"Yes, sir," Deaglan replied.

"Good. Gabriel, help me with Jean then we'll get Philippe."

Once Jean was in the wagon Gabriel and his father eased Philippe along the hallway towards the front door. They had their shoulders tucked under Philippe's arms and he hopped on one leg between them. He looked my way as he passed and I offered him an encouraging smile but the glare he sent back froze my heart. It only took an instant for me to realize he blamed me and Gabriel for everything that had happened to him and Jean.

"Vivienne, we're ready," Gabriel held his hand out. "Come let's get you home."

## Chapitre Quatre

"And that is all we can tell you," Gabriel's father stood in the hallway, his hat in hand, explaining what he thought might have happened to my brothers.

They had to be carried to their respective rooms and my mother tended them while a servant went to fetch the médecin. I was on the stairs several steps behind my father. My eyes were downcast and I had trouble following the conversation because I dreaded the eventual retribution I knew would be coming from Philippe.

"This is your son, Gabriel, who found them?"

"Yes, sir."

"I see." My father frowned, "Aren't you the one who brought my daughter home when she hurt her ankle yesterday?" I never mentioned the lie I told to cover why I had ridden home with him. I looked up with fear and shame in my eyes. Gabriel nodded, hoping it was the right response.

My father took a deep breath, "Well, I guess I'm in your debt young man," my father looked Gabriel over then turned to Mr. Bergeron. "Why don't you join us for dinner tomorrow evening and we will discuss a compensation for your son's service to my family."

Gabriel's father shook his head, "Merci, Monsieur, but that isn't necessary. We can't accept..."

"Nonsense," there was a hint of repressed anger in my father's voice. "You will both join us. Tomorrow at 5:00 pm." He turned to a servant but caught me from the corner of his eye. "Vivienne," his voice full of surprise, "What are you doing there? You need to get to bed young lady."

"Oui, Papa."

I wanted to say goodbye to Gabriel and apologize for involving him but my father was looking at me, waiting for me to do as he said. I knew I didn't have a choice and turned away. "Show them out please," my father called to the servant.

Mr. Bergeron and Gabriel followed the servant and as they walked away, I started up the stairs. I looked back when I heard the door close and saw my father pacing back and forth across the hallway. He seemed oddly absorbed by whatever he was thinking. It was a little unsettling to see him so upset. "Papa, are you all right? You don't look well." I moved back down the stairs toward him. He was pale and worn and as I studied him closer, there seemed to be little beads of sweat pooling on his forehead.

"I'm fine," he kissed me on the top of my head when I stopped a step or two from the landing. "You should worry about your brothers not me."

He pulled back and I noticed something else unusual about him. He had a strange expression on his face. It reminded me of the one my mother would get when her doctor hadn't been able to see her on their appointed day. I felt a little pang of panic as I searched his features then something else caught my eye. He had what seemed like a birthmark on his neck. I couldn't recall ever seeing it before but it was quite prominent and I couldn't imagine ever overlooking it.

My father raised his hand to his neck and rubbed at the strange mark, "I should have left this morning," he mumbled as he ran his fingers across it.

"Are you sure you're well, Papa? You seem...and there's something on your..."

"Vivienne, please! I'm fine," he took a deep breath and relaxed his tone. "It's late and you need to get to bed."

"Oui, Papa," I nodded, turned and trudged up the stairs.

After getting ready for bed I curled up beneath the covers. I went over the day's events in my mind. The excitement of escaping my brothers, the pleasure of the picnic and getting to know Gabriel; it seemed so perfect a few short hours ago. I remembered his kiss and my heartfelt declaration, "Oh, Gabriel...I love you, too!"

How quickly it all turned dark and dismal; overshadowed by my brothers and their malicious natures. For a moment I wished that I hadn't gone to Gabriel and sent him and his father and Deaglan after them. I imagined a life without Jean and Philippe and how peaceful it might be. It was a terrible thought and it made me miserable. Wishing a greater harm had come to my brothers filled me with guilt and I had to wipe a few tears away.

"Forgive me," I whispered and pulled out my rosary. I prayed until I was too tired to utter another word then fell asleep.

The next morning I was the last to wake. I slept well despite all the tension I had gone to bed with bed. My parents were not in their rooms so I crept down the hallway and stopped first at Jean's door. I knocked softly and when he didn't answer I opened it and peeked through the crack. Jean squinted and looked my way.

"I'm sorry Jean, did I wake you?"

"Non," he moaned, "I can't sleep. It hurts too much."

"I'm so sorry Jean, really I am. I can't imagine what you've been through," I took his hand and sat on the edge of the bed.

He smiled, "All night long I have been thinking, Viv. We...Philippe and I...we have never given you any reason to care for us have we?"

"Please Jean, don't say such things. You know that's not true."

"Oh, but it is...I'm sure of it. If you hadn't sent your friend; if they hadn't found us." This was a new and unexpected Jean. I looked away and bit back a sob. "I'm sorry Vivienne, for all of it. For everything," he tried to sit up to emphasize what he was saying but feebly fell back on his pillow.

"It's all right, Jean. You're not well; we can talk when you're better," I smiled and tried to stand up.

"Philippe and I...we deserved what happened to us," Jean clutched at my hand. "We came after you. We saddled our horses and followed your tracks to the stream but when we got there, we couldn't decide which way to go; back towards the farms or further along towards the vineyards."

"I wanted to go back but Philippe insisted Gabriel would expect us to do that. He insisted we go the other way. So we went on following the stream, Philippe on one side and me on the other hoping we would find your trail wherever you came out. I wanted to go home; we were wasting time and it was such a fine day. It was frustrating and Philippe almost agreed to turn back but then he found some hoof prints. They didn't look fresh to me and I didn't think they were yours. Phil wouldn't hear my arguments though, he was adamant we go on. So we spread out and picked our way through the woods."

"Somehow we lost the trail and got turned around. We didn't have the dogs to help us find our way back, so we stopped. Phil made me climb a tree to see if I could spot the stream. It looked sturdy enough but when I got to one of the higher branches, the tree groaned and listed to the side. Then like a thunderclap it snapped at the base. I was too high to jump, and it happened so fast! Phil never had a chance to get out of the way. The noise and commotion were too much for the horses. They were the last thing I saw as I watched them bolt away from where I landed. Then the world...everything...it all went black."

Jean took a deep breath; he looked on the brink of tears. "God snapped that tree! He was punishing us for tormenting you, I'm sure of it!"

"No, Jean, God doesn't work like that. He doesn't punish or reward, he just gives us direction for the way we should live our lives. You made a bad a choice and something bad happened because of it, nothing more," I assured him. "God will forgive you."

"Do you believe that, Viv? Do you really believe that?"

"Yes, Jean. Yes I do."

"Will you forgive me, Viv?" There was sincere regret in his eyes.

I kissed his knuckles, "Of course I will, Jean. You're my brother and I love you."

"And Gabriel, do you think he'll forgive me, too?"

"I know he will."

He sighed, "He must care a great deal for you to have taken so much trouble coming after us like that."

I blushed and smiled, "Yes, he does."

He sighed, "I'm happy for you Viv. I hope someone will care for me like that someday."

"I hope that for you, too, Jean," I kissed his forehead. "Get some rest."

After leaving Jean and having such a remarkable conversation with him I was happily optimistic as I made my way to Philippe's room. The door was open and he was standing at his window leaning on Papa's ebony walking stick.

"Philippe?"

He visibly tensed but didn't turn around or answer.

"How are you feeling?"

"How do you imagine?" he ground the question out.

"I'm sorry, Philippe. Jean told me what happened. It was very...unfortunate."

"Unfortunate?!" he rounded on me, "You call this unfortunate?" he raised his pant leg to show the mass of bandages and livid bruises that covered his leg. I gasped and covered my mouth.

"Your boyfriend did this!"

"How can you say that Philippe? You were trying to hurt us; we did nothing to you."

"Oh, I seem to recall things differently. I'm sure I didn't slip in the barn and punch myself in the eye." I almost giggled, but choked it back. "Are you laughing at me?!" he tried to lunge forward but cried out when he put too much weight on his injured leg. Instinctively, I moved to help him, "Don't touch me!" he screamed.

He hobbled to his nightstand and uncapped a bottle that looked all too familiar, "Philippe, no, you shouldn't. You know what it can do to you," I pleaded.

He looked defiantly at me and took a generous gulp, "Get out you little whore!" No one had ever spoken to me like that. Teary-eyed I cowered and ran from the room.

I sat on the top of the stairs for several minutes trying to compose myself and my thoughts. Minutes later there was a knock at the front door and eager for a distraction I hurried to answer it.

"Gabriel!" I exclaimed; no one could have been more welcome.

"Good morning," he smiled; his voice full of delight. My cheeks burned as he took my hands and gave me two quick pecks. "I've been up all night worrying about you. How are your brothers? I was just on my way to fetch Deaglan but I couldn't wait a moment longer to see you and ended up here instead," he chuckled.

"My brothers are doing much better," I assured him. "Would you like to come in?" I asked.

"Actually, I can't. Deaglan and I are going out to search for your brother's horses. I only have a minute."

"Vivienne," my father called from the parlor, "is that you?" he rounded the corner and stepped into the hallway.

"Oui, Papa, look who's here." He seemed tired and he still had that odd, needy expression I noticed the night before. I caught sight of the strange mark on his neck again but he held his hand out to Gabriel and I didn't have a chance to mention it.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Bergeron."

"Good to see you, Sir," Gabriel took his hand and bowed his head.

"Gabriel wanted to know how Jean and Philippe were doing. He's going out to search for their horses but stopped first to ask after them," I explained.

"That's kind of you." There was a long pause then my father said, "Well, I'll let you get on your way."

"Oui, Monsieur," Gabriel nodded, "good day."

My father pivoted and we were alone again.

Gabriel said goodbye and took a step away. Then with sudden inspiration he turned back, "Come with us," he whispered. I glanced over my shoulder. "We'll wait for you at the barn. If you can get away, we'll wait for you."

A thrill ran through me, "Oui...oui...I'll be right there."

Suddenly his lips were against mine and just as suddenly he vanished.

I stood trembling in the hallway then smiling I ran for my room. I collected my shawl and within minutes was outside and on my way to the farmhouses. It was cool and dreary so I kept a brisk pace.

When I got to the barn Gabriel met me in the doorway and crushed me in a happy embrace.

"I've missed you," he lifted me off my feet and spun me around.

Laughing, "You left me not 20 minutes ago!" I buried my face in his neck.

I caught sight of Deaglan as he put me back down. He held the reins of two horses and watched us with an affectionate grin. "Take your time, don't mind me!" he teased.

I smoothed the folds from my dress and held my hand out to greet him, "Good morning, Deaglan."

"Bonjour, Mademoiselle."

"Tres bien! You have a fine accent," I looked at Gabriel, "and don't let him tell you otherwise."

"Merci," Deaglan handed a pair of reins to Gabriel. "Are you ready?"

Gabriel lofted himself into the saddle and slid back to make room before hoisting me up in front of him. Deaglan hopped astride his mare and led the way. As we walked through the doorway, he gave a sharp whistle and an instant later I heard an eager rumble approaching us. I peered around Gabriel and saw two massive hounds, tongues lolling and tails wagging come running from the fields.

"Oh, my!" I gasped

I felt Gabriel's smile against my cheek, "Deaglan's girls," he chuckled, "Trista and Isolde."

"They're so big. I've never seen such big dogs!"

Deaglan dropped back when he heard my exclamation, "They are wolfhounds from Ireland. I bred them myself and raised them from pups." They were so tall that he could reach down from his saddle and scratch their backs.

"They are magnifique!" I exclaimed.

Deaglan smiled with pride, "Merci."

They vaulted ahead of us toward the vineyards moving surprising fast and surefooted. I did a mental comparison of them to my brother's Gascony hounds. Then I imagined how fearful they would be if they ever met one of Deaglan's girls.

We followed them at an easy pace; Gabriel held the reins with his left hand and played with my fingers with his right. The sun was burning off the morning air and there were wisps of fog streaming up from the folds of grass towards the sky. It was cool and fresh and the further away we got the less and less burdensome all my worries seemed to be.

I leaned back and enjoyed the closeness of Gabriel and the sensation of his fingers running over mine. He kissed my neck and it sent shivers down my spine.

"Je t'aime," he whispered in my ear.

"I love you, too," I whispered back and brought his wrist to my lips.

We were near the stream before long. The hounds leapt across in a single bound. Once they were on the opposite bank, they bent their noses to the ground. They snuffled through the leaves and underbrush then headed back towards the farmhouses. Deaglan moved ahead of us and followed their lead. Minutes later the dogs glided further into the woods and led us to the little clearing Gabriel and I had our picnic in the day before. The horses were grazing at the opposite edge of the field but looked up when they heard our approach.

Gabriel told me to stay in the saddle while he and Deaglan went to inspect them. They were a little disheveled and had bits of twigs, leaves and other debris caught in their manes and tails. I watched the boys examine their hooves and pick out anything lodged in them. The saddles and bridles were askew and the reins had a few new notches but otherwise there didn't seem to be any injuries or anything else wrong with them.

"Well, this is a relief," Gabriel said as he climbed back into the saddle. He looped their reins over his horn. "Did your brothers ever tell you what happened to them?"

"Oui," I nodded. Deaglan called to his dogs and we started back towards the farmhouses.

I told them everything that Jean told me and by the time I finished we reached the barn. It was midday and I hadn't had any breakfast. My stomach was rumbling and Gabriel had been teasing me for the last few minutes by tickling my belly every time it protested.

"Mon Dieu, it's relentless!"

I squirmed against his touch, "Non, please, non!" I begged unable to control my fits of laughter.

"Then stay; stay and have lunch with us."

"I will."

"Promise," he tickled me one last time.

"Oui, yes, I promise."

He hopped down and eased me out of the saddle.

Gabriel's father knew that the boys were going out for the horses and expected them in time for lunch. He made a generous meal knowing they would be hungry when they got back. Gabriel asked if I could join them and he graciously set another place for me. During the meal I told him everything I told Gabriel and Deaglan about my brothers' misadventure.

Mr. Bergeron just shook his head, "C'est la vie, they will learn. Sooner or later they will learn or...well, let's just hope they will learn."

He turned the conversation and told us little anecdotes about himself and the troubles he had caused; stories from his youth and life on the farm. Soon we were all smiling and contributing to the conversation. It surprised me how comfortable and at ease I felt with them. Everyone was so carefree and natural as we sat together laughing and enjoying each other's company. Mr. Bergeron steeped a pot of coffee after we had eaten. It extended our lunch well beyond what I had planned to stay. It was the first time in ages, though, that I wasn't afraid of my brothers, or worried about my mother or missing my father. I never wanted to leave.

##  Chapitre Cinq

Deaglan and Gabriel walked me part of the way home. The dogs loped along with us and I couldn't help marveling again at their size. Isolde was curious and after a thorough inspection decided I was worthy of her approval. She nuzzled me more than once as we walked and knocked me off balance each time I ran my hand over her back.

We stopped on a short rise where we couldn't be seen from my house and said goodbye.

Gabriel kissed me, "I'll miss you," he smiled into my eyes.

"You won't have a chance," I said reminding him of my father's invitation. "It will be dinnertime before you know it," I smiled back.

Together they turned and headed back towards the farms. As I neared the front of the house, the carriage pulled up. It worried me at first because I thought it must be there for one of my brothers. I wondered if something had gone wrong and if one of them needed to be seen by the doctor. When I got to the porch, though, I noticed my father's luggage stacked by the door and ready to be loaded.

"No," I thought, "he wouldn't leave now!" I tried to reassure myself.

Holding my skirts, I climbed the short flight and walked in through the open door. I heard the raised voices of my parents in the parlor and went to the doorway.

"Papa, why is your luggage outside?" I asked as soon as he realized I was standing there.

"I'm leaving today. It's regrettable what happened to your brothers but the doctor assures me they will be quite well. I must leave today. She...there is someone...I have urgent business in Paris that cannot be put off another moment. I want you to take this," he handed me a letter, "to Mr. Bergeron this evening. Give him my apologies and let him know that we won't be able to welcome him and enjoy his company tonight."

"But Papa...the boys...they need you."

"I can't do anything for them that hasn't already been done."

I looked at my mother imploringly but she was staring at me as though I needed to come up with a solution. "But they will benefit from the comfort of knowing you're here," I insisted.

"Philippe and Jean are men now. They do not need to be coddled because they have a bump on their head or a bruise on their knee."

"But Papa..."

"Enough!" My mother and I both jumped at my father's tone. "I have made my decision and there's nothing more to be said," he took a deep breath and tried to master his anger. "Please, take that letter to Mr. Bergeron."

"Oui, Papa," I bowed my head and left.

My mother came out a moment afterwards and stormed up the stairs. It was the most animated I ever remembered seeing her. She called to Philippe and together they made their way to Jean's room to let him know that Papa was leaving. As I tucked my shawl over my shoulders, my father emerged from the parlor.

His hand chafed at the mark on his neck and his eyes were downcast. A few tears trembled in my eyes when I saw him but I didn't dare say anything. I choked them back and hurried for the door.

It didn't take long to get to Gabriel's house. Mr. Bergeron answered after I knocked and apologized that Gabriel wasn't there.

"Pas de quoi, Monsieur, I came to see you," I tried to hide my regret as I handed him the letter from my father.

He scanned it and nodded, "Ah, that's a shame. Gabriel will be disappointed."

"Yes. We all will. Would you give Gabriel my apologies?"

"Of course," he smiled warmly, "but you're welcome to wait."

"Non, I should get back and see my father off."

"I understand. I hope you will visit us again soon."

"Mais oui," I smiled.

It had gotten dark by the time I returned home and I couldn't see whether the carriage was still there or not. My heart sank when I realized it was gone along with all my father's luggage. I tried not to be upset that I missed him. He had only been home for a short while and I should have grown used to his sudden arrivals and departures. Something was gnawing at my insides though. I didn't think anything good would come from him leaving.

I went inside and hurried past Philippe's open door. When I came to Jean's room I paused and wondered if he was sorry our father left. I thought I would ask him if I could do anything to make him more comfortable. He didn't answer when I called so I decided he must be sleeping. I was sure he needed the rest and stole away to my own room to compose myself and my thoughts before dinner.

When Cook rang I took my time getting to the dining room. Philippe was the only one seated when I stepped in to take my place at the table. He sat in Papa's chair at the head; it was the first time he had ever taken my father's place. It seemed bold, like he was declaring himself as the man of the house now that Papa had gone.

"How are you this evening?" I tried to be polite.

His eyes were glassy and his words came slowly, "I'm well, Sister, thank you." Then he turned and nodded to have our dinners brought out.

"Shouldn't we wait for Mama and Jean?"

"Jean isn't well enough to manage the stairs and Mama is resting."

"Oh," I tried not to sound disappointed.

Philippe began to eat but I was too uncomfortable to manage more than a few bites. His knife scraped against the plate and as I watched him chew it was so off-putting I decided to excuse myself from the table. I took my napkin from my lap but as soon as I made the gesture Philippe interjected.

"You're not going to let me dine by myself are you?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Would it be too much to ask for your company?"

"Yes, it would," I thought to myself. "Of course not," I reluctantly replied.

"Have you seen Gabriel?"

I didn't want to answer afraid that it might betray how much I cared for him. I imagined that if he found out Philippe would make it an even greater point to harass him. "Papa sent me with a letter for Mr. Bergeron this afternoon but Gabriel had gone out to look for your horses."

"Did he find them?"

I almost answered yes, but it would have exposed the lie I told. "I hope so," I tried to sound optimistic.

Philippe nodded and finished clearing his plate. I sat across from him wondering what he was thinking and whether I should be wary. There was no mistaking that he hadn't stopped using the laudanum the doctor had left him. He looked so calm and expressionless. While I studied him he glanced up from his plate.

For a moment I thought how striking he was with his lanky frame, black hair, blue eyes and aristocratic face. He was very handsome and I wondered how someone so fine on the outside might be something so different within.

"Let's not be like this," he sounded full of remorse. "I'm sorry for what I said. Come," he held his hand out. I slid back from the table filled with hope and took his hand. He drew me down onto his lap and I had a nauseating and ominous sense of what was about to happen. Philippe brushed the hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. My body went rigid with fear as he rested his lips against my ear, "I'm going to kill him you know." He said it simply, matter-of-factly.

I tried to jerk myself free but Philippe was much stronger than me and before I could fight myself away, he kissed me full on the lips. He tried to force my teeth apart with his tongue and every part of me revolted at the attempt. It was so shocking, so unimaginable. I broke my arm free and struck him as hard as I could across his face momentarily stunning him and leapt away.

What he had done and what he said horrified me, "How could you!?" I screamed. "You're disgusting! I hate you!" Grabbing my skirts I fled from the dining room to the sound of his laughter. I raced upstairs and after slamming my door behind me ran to my chamber pot and heaved over and over again.

Doubled over and sobbing I stayed there for an interminable time. It was unthinkable that Phillipe could act so terribly. The threat he made against Gabriel filled me with dread but I wasn't sure if I had the courage to tell him. I tried to think of a way to explain it without disclosing everything. He was the only one I could talk to, there was no one else to turn to. My father wasn't home, I would never willing go to my mother and Jean, "Would he believe me?" I wondered. Or was it too incredible even for someone like Philippe to do something so horrible?

I felt filthy and imagined how repulsed Gabriel would be if he learned what happened. That brought on another fit of tears. I threw myself down on my bed and wept with abandon.

Despite the overwhelming burden of grief and regret I fell asleep. When I woke the sun was coming up and driven by the apprehension of seeing Philippe, I quickly refreshed myself, changed and crept from my room. I grabbed my shawl and since I couldn't think of anywhere else to go, I headed for the farmhouses.

When I got to Gabriel's I couldn't bring myself to knock. I stood poised at the front door unable to do more than raise my hand once or twice then lower it. The images from the previous night were so fresh and raw in my mind. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do. While I stood there full of indecision something bowled against me and I stumbled forward.

"Isolde," I laughed when I realized it was her. "Oh, you have come at just the right time," I hugged her and scratched her ears.

A moment later Deaglan rounded the house with Trista at his side, "Allô," he waved.

I waved back, "Bonjour."

"Did Gabriel invite you to breakfast, too?" he asked when he reached the porch.

"Non, I...I just...I wanted to see him," I blushed with intensity.

He shook his head at me, "Why are you so ashamed of your feelings? Irish girls would never act so silly!" He told Trista and Isolde to sit then rapped on the door.

Deaglan's words rang in my head while we waited for either Gabriel or his father to answer. He was right. My feelings for Gabriel were nothing to be ashamed of. The more I thought about the more I realized that I shouldn't be ashamed by what happened with Philippe, either. I had done nothing wrong. There wasn't any reason I should suffer from so much guilt. When Gabriel opened the door he looked so happy to see me. His smile erased all my fear.

Gabriel petted each of the dogs then took my hands and held them wide, "I'm so glad you're here!" he said. Then he pulled me close and held me tight, "What's wrong, chérie?" he whispered.

I glanced at Deaglan so Gabriel would know I would rather talk to him alone.

He nodded and invited us in. Trista and Isolde came, too, and after circling once or twice lay down in front of the fireplace. Mr. Bergeron must have heard the dogs getting settled and poked his head out from the kitchen, "Bonjour Deaglan...ah, Mademoiselle Vivienne, what a nice surprise!"

He wiped his hands on his apron then placed two quick pecks on each of my cheeks. He looked me over and I had the uncanny sense he, too, realized that something was wrong.

"Have you eaten?" he asked.

"Non, Monsieur," I shook my head.

"Bien! Come, come..." he motioned us to the kitchen.

The boys gave their hands a quick wash then Deaglan set the table while Gabriel sliced the loaf of bread that had been resting on the oven keeping warm. Mr. Bergeron poured coffee and placed the steaming mugs at each of the settings on the table. He smiled from the corner of his eye when I went to the sideboard and prepared the fruit to be served with our meal.

A minute or two later we all sat down at the table. We sipped our drinks and ate our breakfast while smiling and talking about all the little things that happened since we were together last. The boys were the most talkative while Mr. Bergeron and I interjected with our questions and comments. My problems slid into a corner of my mind and I didn't think of them throughout the entire meal.

Eventually Mr. Bergeron cleared his throat and reminded the boys they had work to do. Together we gathered our dishes and stacked them on the sideboard. Once the kitchen was tidy again, I thanked Mr. Bergeron for letting me join them and walked to the living room with Deaglan and Gabriel.

"Here," Deaglan handed me a leftover slice of bread and gave a second to Trista. Isolde sat expectantly with her tail sweeping back and forth across the floor. I offered her the little treat and laughed when she took it from me like it was a treasure and wandered a few paces away. She nibbled it bit by bit then cleared away all the crumbs.

"She really likes you," Deaglan nodded from Isolde to me. It seemed like a tremendous compliment and I told Deaglan how glad I was to hear it. He smiled and turned to Gabriel, "Well, I guess I'll head to the barn."

"I'll be right there."

Gabriel let Deaglan out and took my hand. He led us onto the porch and had me take a seat on the steps. He sat down a row lower than me and looked up. I was nervous and didn't know how to begin. Then his sleeve fell back and I saw the bracelet he wove together from my hair.

It gave me courage and when I finished telling him everything, I knew he was just as horrified by what Phillipe had done as I was. I saw his concern and felt the tension in his fingertips. He seemed very angry and desperately trying to suppress it. After a moment Gabriel wrapped his arms around me and said that he was glad I had come to him.

"He must have..." Gabriel took a deep breath, "Philippe is not well enough to do anything to hurt us. I'm sure this is his means until he's well again. I'm sorry, Vivienne, I am so sorry this happened," he shook his head. "Let me talk to Papa..."

"Non!" I stood up. "You mustn't tell anyone else!" I insisted.

"I won't tell him, I promise," he took me by the shoulders, "but Vivienne, you need to be careful and avoid Philippe as much as possible. It won't be safe for you at home. I'll just ask Papa...I'll...I'll tell him you're lonely and would like to keep him company today."

It surprised me how comfortable I was with the idea, "Oui, but then we must come up with something else."

"I will Vivienne; I promise." He pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes, "I love you," he said, "I won't let anything happen to you."

## Chapitre Six

Mr. Bergeron was happy to have me spend the day with him. After helping with the housework we went for a walk around my family's property. He ended up being a fun and informative companion. He had lived there for 17 years and told me things I would never have known about the different areas we visited.

We met several other people along the way. If he knew them well enough, he would introduce me then spend a few minutes catching up. He never lingered overlong and I felt like I was learning a great deal about my family and the people who lived on our land. It was interesting and refreshing to listen to his perspective. Until I met Gabriel, I never cared or thought much about how we all depended upon one another.

I was completely at ease and the hours seemed to zip by. Before I realized it lunchtime was approaching and we were winding our way back towards the farmhouses. Gabriel and Deaglan came home while Mr. Bergeron and I were putting the finishing touches on everyone's meals. They washed and joined us at the table and while we ate I bubbled over with stories to tell.

After lunch the boys needed to get back to work. As I walked them to the door Gabriel turned and whispered, "Deaglan has an idea to help you with your...problem."

My face colored with embarrassment, "Oh, non, you promised you wouldn't tell, Gabriel!"

"Ssh, listen, ssh," he hugged me, "I didn't tell him, not everything. I only told him that your brothers are bullies and you have no way of protecting yourself from them." While I considered what he said Gabriel went on, "I didn't even have to ask. He wants to give Isolde to you."

My heart skipped a beat and I wasn't sure I heard him correctly, "He wants to what?" I asked.

"He wants to give her to you so your brothers won't bother you anymore. They wouldn't dare, not with Isolde by your side!" I couldn't think of a single thing to say I was so overwhelmed. "She loves you already and Deaglan says she's well trained and will do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

I looked over Gabriel's shoulder and saw Deaglan standing a few paces away. I placed a quick kiss on Gabriel and ran down to him.

"Really?" I breathlessly asked.

He smiled and nodded, "Really!"

"Oh, Mon Dieu! I don't know how to thank you," I threw my arms around Deaglan and smothered him in a heartfelt hug.

"Easy," he chuckled, "Gabriel is watching; he might get the wrong idea!"

"Non," I kissed Deaglan's cheeks, "he knows I love him and no one else."

"I know he does. I know it, too," Deaglan sighed. "You may only have eyes for Gabriel but he's not the only one who loves you." He looked sincere but what he said surprised me and I wasn't sure how to reply.

Thankfully, I didn't have to. Gabriel walked over to where we stood, "She's spoken for," he teased and clapped Deaglan on the shoulder motioning him back to work.

"Well, you can't blame me for trying." Deaglan turned back, "I'll bring Isolde with me when we're done for the day."

I waved them off and went back inside to spend the rest of the afternoon with Mr. Bergeron. We played chess, sipped tea and did whatever else we could to keep ourselves busy until the boys came home. Deaglan brought Trista and Isolde when they came back. The dogs made themselves comfortable in the living room while we had dinner together. I put off leaving for as long as I dared but when it started to get dark, we decided I should go home.

Gabriel and Deaglan walked me part of the way again and when we got to the top of the rise Deaglan bent down. He whispered something into Isolde's ear and hugged her goodbye. I could see how attached he was and it made me wish I hadn't accepted his offer and refused to take Isolde from him.

"Maybe there's another way," I suggested.

"Don't worry, Vivienne," Deaglan insisted. "It's fine. I'll see her whenever you come to visit Gabriel."

I looked at Gabriel but he shook his head, "It's for the best, Vivienne. Neither of us wants anything to happen to you." Deaglan seconded his opinion.

"It doesn't seem right," I sighed.

"Je sais, chérie," Gabriel hugged me and kissed my forehead.

I turned and took Deaglan's hands, "Merci, mon ami! Merci! Merci!" I kissed his cheeks. "Goodbye, I'll come visit you as soon as I can."

"Bon soir," they both called as I started back up the path towards home.

Deaglan encouraged Isolde to follow but she was reluctant to leave him. He told me to use her name and to tell her to come.

"Come Isolde."

She took a handful of steps.

"Again," Deaglan said.

After the third or fourth time she came to my side and glanced back over her shoulder. Isolde gave a half-hearted wag of her tail then turned and nuzzled me as if to say we could go. I bent down and hugged her, "Thank you, Isolde. I will be a good friend to you, I promise."

Once we were inside, we made our way upstairs. It was well past dinner and everyone had gone to their own rooms for the night. Philippe had his door closed but Jean's was ajar and his room bright. I knocked and when he called poked my head in.

"Jean, are you alone?"

"Oui," he looked happy to see me. "Will you come in and sit with me a minute?"

I smiled, "Of course."

I crept in with Isolde behind me and closed the door the rest of the way so we wouldn't be disturbed.

"Mon Dieu," Jean exclaimed, "What is that?!"

Isolde gave a little half-growl.

"This is Isolde," I ruffled her ears, "my new dog. Isolde, this is my brother Jean." I called her towards the bed and Jean pulled back in fear. "Don't be afraid Jean, she's a nice dog," I laughed, "just a very big, nice dog."

"Where did you get her?"

"Gabriel's friend, Deaglan."

He inched back towards us and cautiously let her smell his hand, "He just gave her to you. Whatever for?"

"Oh, uh, just to keep me company, I guess. You and Philippe have each other but I don't have a sister." I wasn't ready to tell Jean what happened at dinner the other night. He may have apologized but years of Jean's antagonism had made me wary and I still didn't fully trust him. "Are you feeling any better?" I changed the subject.

"Much," he smiled. "The médecin came by earlier and said that I should try getting up tomorrow."

"Oh, that's wonderful news Jean," I clasped his hand.

Just as I did Isolde sprang for the door growling and bristling. My eyes followed her and when Philippe walked in he froze in fear at the sight that greeted him.

"What in the name of God is that?!" he jumped back.

"Isolde, come!" I called. She backed away, without taking her eyes from Philippe and stood protectively in front of me.

Philippe took a step or two into Jean's room scowling at each of us, "Well, don't you two look cozy," he spat. "So what is that unholy creature you've got there?"

"This is Isolde," I stroked her back, "my new dog," I stated.

"New dog? Where on Earth did you get her, and who gave you permission to bring her in the house?" Philippe inched closer but stepped back when Isolde leaned aggressively towards him.

I hadn't thought of that. My father wasn't home and my mother would never agree to letting me keep a dog in the house especially one the size of a small pony. "She was a gift and it would have been rude not to accept her," I tried not to sound worried.

"Mother will never let you keep her."

Jean interjected, "I'll talk to her for you, Viv."

Philippe looked at Jean with incredulity, "Are you mad, Brother? Did that bump on your head addle your brain?"

Jean's expression changed, "It did something, yes."

Philippe turned his astonished expression from Jean to me to Isolde and without another word stormed from the room. I listened to his cane tap along the hallway and was thankful that he went towards his own room and not my mother's.

"Don't worry, Viv, it will all work out, you'll see."

I smiled and nodded, "Thank you, Jean."

I stayed and chatted a while longer; Jean asked me a few questions that made me realize I didn't know the first thing about caring for a dog. He made a list of things for me to do and by the time he finished we were both yawning and stretching to keep awake. We said goodnight then I led Isolde to my room and told her to stay. I went to the closet where the housekeeper kept our extra linens and built a nest beside my bed where she could sleep. She seemed to understand what I was doing and lay down as soon as I finished.

The next morning Isolde woke me bright and early prodding me with her cold, wet nose. I brought her outside then to the kitchen. Cook looked her over appraisingly, "She's a beautiful animal," he said, "let's see what we have for her to breakfast on, huh?"

He made a hefty plate for her with a bit of everything; eggs, bacon, chicken, carrots, and a few other odds and ends. She enjoyed it heartily and licked the plate clean. A few minutes afterwards I heard my brothers and mother taking their places in the dining room for the morning meal. I took a deep breath and passed from the kitchen smiling and greeting everyone by name. Isolde followed me and when I sat down, she chased her tail once or twice and lay down directly behind me.

No one said a word which was terribly unnerving. Cook brought out our meals and set them one by one. He stooped and whispered an affectionate expression to Isolde, nodded to my mother, and sauntered back to the kitchen as though nothing out of the ordinary had taken place. The minutes ticked by as I held my breath waiting for the inevitable debate but it never came. My mother laid her napkin in her lap, took up her silverware and ate her breakfast.

I never learned what he said but Jean had already spoken with my mother and convinced her I should be allowed to keep Isolde. She became a fixture at my side wherever I might be and her distrust of Philippe brought me the peace I hoped for. I spent most of my days with Gabriel and Deaglan but while I was home Philippe avoided me as much as possible.

For the first time in my life my heart and head were full; full of love and hope and happiness – all the emotions I had craved but never received. Both Jean and Philippe healed but they weren't able to recover the brotherly bonds they once shared.

Jean's accident altered him greatly and rather than hunting, fishing or any of his other past pursuits he turned to faith. He studied, he prayed, and over time became everyone's confidant. He was always willing and helpful whenever we needed someone to talk to.

We grew a lot during this period of our lives. The boys became men, I grew into a woman. It was almost time for us to start considering our futures with the seriousness of adulthood rather than all of our past childish notions. My father had not returned during this entire span and throughout his absence I hardly gave him any thought.

As my 18th birthday approached, though, he quietly came back and everything he brought with him kindled the destruction of the delicate, peaceful balance we created.

## Chapitre Sept

It was Sunday and Gabriel had asked me to meet him at the barn around lunchtime. I took my time walking which caused Isolde utter dismay. She was in an exceptional mood and bounded ahead, turned and galloped back to my side several times. She seemed to be telling me to hurry but it was too nice of a day.

Once we were close enough, I urged her on ahead of me knowing she was as eager to see Gabriel as I was. He cooed and petted her until I walked through the doorway then he turned and pulled me close.

"I've missed you! I'm so glad you could come," he said as he tucked me under his chin. He had grown several inches since we met and was just over 6 feet tall.

We lingered for a minute before we pulled apart. When he let me go, I noticed Gabriel's horse was waiting by her stall ready to take us somewhere. Her saddlebags were bulging, so I suspected we were having a picnic again. Gabriel smiled as I took in the situation, "It's a beautiful day for it, n'est-ce pas?" He patted the mare's shoulder.

"Oui, it is!"

"Good," he took the reins and climbed into the saddle.

He brought us to the clearing where we had our first picnic. We hadn't been there for many, many months and when we brushed through the last of the trees, I couldn't believe the sight that greeted me. The transformation was incredible! He had cleared all the undergrowth away and planted beds of flowers. There was a path winding around the clearing that outlined all the little alcoves of new blossoms and shrubs. It was breathtaking and I was awestruck by the splendor of it all.

"Did you do all of this?" I waved my hand expressively.

"Deaglan helped."

"Oh, my! It must have taken you months!"

He chuckled, "It did! Do you like it?"

"Like it?" I whirled around to face him, "I love it! It's...it's amazing! Hurry, let's get down so you can show me everything you've done!"

Gabriel slid from the saddle and caught me as I tumbled down beside him. He took my hand and led me along the little path pointing out each significant improvement of the clearing as we went. After he finished showing me everything he wanted me to see he took me to a small patch of grass near the boulder where we shared our first picnic. The turf had not been there before. He must have brought it from somewhere or had grown the miniature field himself so we would have a more comfortable place to sit and relax whenever we came.

Gabriel fetched the saddlebags and arranged our picnic for us. He brought out a large blanket and spread it at my feet. I offered to help but he insisted on doing everything himself and motioned me to take a seat on the corner of the blanket. He laid out all of my favorite things before taking a seat beside me.

"I love you," I said as I leaned over and kissed him. "I can't imagine what it took to do all this, or know why you would go through so much trouble..."

"Of course you do, Vivienne! I love you. I'd do anything for you...and..." he let that linger for a moment.

"And?" I asked shaking my head at him.

"I wanted to be the first to wish you a Happy Birthday!"

"It's not for another 3 weeks!" I laughed out loud,

"Je sais, but I couldn't wait, Vivienne. I love seeing you happy. I love making you happy. All I want is for you to always be happy!"

"You don't have to do anything to make me happy, Gabriel, I'm always happy when I'm with you."

Smiling he kissed me then turned my attention by offering me a strawberry. I nibbled it as he dangled it in front of my lips. We playfully fed one another while we laughed and talked and lounged. Just when I was about to say I had my fill he told me to close my eyes.

"One last thing," he insisted. I closed my eyes. "Open your mouth...a little more...now take a bite."

"Oh," my eyes went wide when I tasted the pastry. It was a delicate, miniature crème puff covered in chocolate and I had never eaten anything like it. "Mmm, it's wonderful! Where did you get it?"

"I made it," he said his voice filled with pride.

"No you didn't!" I joked.

"I did! Papa taught me. It was my mother's recipe."

"It's heavenly! Here try some," I took the pastry from his hand and held it to his lips.

He was looking into my eyes and we were both smiling until his lips brushed my fingertips. Then all our playfulness disintegrated as he sucked the bits of cream from them.

Gabriel leaned over and kissed me; a beautiful, soft, lingering kiss.

It felt like my heart stopped and a shiver ran through me from the tips of my toes all the way up my spine to the top of my head. I reached for his shirt and undid the ties then tugged it from his pants. He took my hands, "Vivienne," he whispered, "are you sure?" He waited, watching, "Are you sure?" he asked again.

I kissed him and when I pulled back, I finished easing his top over his head. I had thought about it more than once and knew in my heart this was what I wanted more than anything else. Slowly and with meaningful, loving caresses we undressed one another. It was magical exploring his body; he seemed so solid and strong every fiber in perfect symmetry with one another.

He bit his lip and moaned as I glided my hands across his shoulders and chest down to his waist then I traced the inner edges of his thighs. I didn't know what I was doing but instinct seemed to take over for the both of us. We lost ourselves in a sea of passion; kissing and touching each other. Our bodies came to life, awakened to one another in a way they had never known before.

Gabriel rolled on top of me and with the gentlest of pressure eased himself inside of me. It was very painful at first and I cried out. We were both nervous afterwards but a few minutes later my body relaxed. The pain faded into nothingness and all we felt was the joy of loving one another. We moved together and every motion seemed to create an increased urgency to everything we were experiencing.

I lost sense of the world around me and soon there was nothing but Gabriel and I and this terrible need overwhelming me from the inside out. "Oh, Gabriel," I cried, "I love you...I love you." I whispered it over and over again until something seemed to burst within me and the fire of fulfillment spread throughout my body. Gabriel fell against me and I could tell he felt it, too. We clung to each other in an exhausted ecstasy.

I ran my fingers through is hair and kissed his temple, "Vivienne," he sighed as he rolled to the side and curled himself around me. "I love you...I feel like I have always loved you." He turned my head, so I was facing him. "I will never love another," he promised as he kissed me. "We will always be together."

"Always," I assured him.

"You are a part of me now; the part that gives me life and losing you would be the death of me."

"Yes, Gabriel, I know. I have thought that, too. We...we are meant to be."

We closed our eyes and dozed against one another our arms and legs intertwined. I don't know how long we lay there but the time had gotten away from us. Fortunately Isolde grew tired of traipsing through the woods chasing squirrels and prodded us both from our daydreams.

"Whoa, easy," Gabriel laughed at her and pushed her away.

He stood up and helped me to my feet then with the same delicate care and admiration we redressed one another. We gathered everything we brought and packed it back up for the ride home. Neither of us spoke; we didn't seem to need any words just then.

We rode back to the farmhouses with our bodies swaying together in the saddle. He nibbled my lobe once or twice and whispered in my ear, "Vivienne, my love," or "I love you, Vivienne," or "Tell me you love me, Vivienne," to which I graciously replied, "I love you." Once I teased him and drew out my declaration, "I...." and I waited several paces as he moaned, "love..." "Ugh!" he cried. "y...y..." "Please," he begged. "I love you, Gabriel," and smiling the words rushed out.

When we got back to the stables, we walked the mare into the barn.

"Well, well, well...where have you two been?"

I jumped as Philippe stepped from the shadows, "We...were...we were having...a picnic," I stuttered.

He eyed us both and took a step closer but Isolde was right on our heels. She moved around and bristling with dislike squared herself in front of Philippe.

Philippe threw his hands up in surrender. "I'm not here to cause any trouble you brute," he spat at her then looked up at me. "I came to let you know Papa is home and he would like to see you."

My heart sank, "I'll be right there," I mumbled.

"Good." Philippe tossed a nod at Gabriel, "Nice to see you," and without waiting for a reply arrogantly strode from the barn.

## Chapitre Huit

"My father," I thought as I trudged home and wondered why he wanted to see me. I tried hard not to imagine how things might change now that he was back. "Perhaps he won't be here long," I whispered hopefully. I had gotten used to the freedom his absence provided, spending all my spare time with Gabriel and his father, Deaglan and Trista or just idling about with Isolde.

He was in the parlor when I got back home. I wasn't sure how he would respond to Isolde or whether my father even knew about her. To be safe I made her stay in the hallway while I went in to greet him.

"Papa?" I called as I walked into the room. He was facing away and when he turned to acknowledge me, I almost apologized because I didn't recognize him at first and was sure he was someone else.

He looked so much younger and more vibrant than I remembered; stronger and healthier. The last time he was home he looked pale and agitated. Now he reminded me of Philippe or what Philippe would look like in a handful of years.

"Vivienne," he stepped towards me and placed his hands on each of my shoulders. He brushed my cheeks with two quick kisses then moved back and studied me appraisingly. "My you have grown! I was expecting my little girl but you're a beautiful young woman now!"

I blushed and looked away, "Merci, Papa."

"Please, let's sit Daughter," he motioned to the settee and took a seat across from me. "I've already spoken with Philippe and with Jean, now I would like to know how you've been."

I raised my eyes and my mind went blank when I met his gaze. There was something unusual about my father other than his appearance.

"Vivienne?"

I shook my head, "Oh, oui, Papa. I have been very well." He looked at me expectantly. My mind raced for something to say. "Have you been well, Papa?"

He frowned, "Yes, yes of course. But I asked of you, Vivienne, surely you have something more to tell me than that you've been well."

"I, uh," I looked toward the doorway, "I have a new dog," I admitted.

"A dog?" he raised his brows as though this was news to him.

"Oui, Papa. Her name is Isolde and she is well-trained. She's like a sister and we do everything together."

My father smiled, "Well, where is she?"

"Isolde," I called.

She crept into the parlor and stationed herself at the edge of the settee beside me. I put my hand on her back and ran my fingers through her fur.

My father's jaw clenched but his smile remained. "I was not expecting that...she is...she's quite large."

"She's an Irish Wolfhound, Papa. She was a gift and it would have been impossible to refuse her," I assured him.

"I see. Well, as long as she is trained," he reached a hand across to introduce himself. Isolde curled her lip and I gripped her fur to let her know that she needed to behave. She didn't let out any sound and relaxed her snarl before taking a deep sniff then snorting in derision at my father's outstretched hand.

"She's not very friendly is she?" he said somewhat vexed.

"Oh, but she is, Papa! She needs time to get used to you. She has never given me or anyone any trouble. I swear!"

"Hmm," he sighed, "as long as you can control her I don't see any reason anything should change."

"Merci, Papa," I smiled.

"So is that all you have to tell me?"

I was terribly uneasy as he sat across from me waiting for me to say something more. Knowing he had already spoken with my brothers I wondered if either of them mentioned where and with whom I had been spending my free time. "Yes, Papa, I've just been reading and keeping to myself."

"Is that so?" he challenged.

I lowered my eyes shamefully, "He knows," I thought to myself.

"Right. Well, if there's nothing more..." he paused a long moment to see if I had anything to add. "I'm expecting company within the next week or so," he went on. "I want them to be as comfortable as possible while they are here. Your things are being moved to the attic this evening and I'm having your room reappointed for them." He put his hands on his knees and stood up as if to signal the end of our conversation.

I raised my head, "But Papa!"

He furrowed his brows at me, "What is it, Vivienne?" he asked. It seemed like he was daring me to contradict him.

I shifted nervously, "Welcome home," I curtsied and hurried from the parlor.

I wanted to run back down to Gabriel and feel his arms around me and hear his comforting words in my ear, but it was too late to venture out. Instead I ran upstairs with Isolde intending to hide in my room until dinner but the servants were already packing my belongings and shuffling them off to the attic. I pivoted and as I did Jean popped his head out of his bedroom doorway.

"Ah, there you are Vivienne! Have you spoken with Papa?"

"Jean," I hurried towards him and threw my arms around his neck.

"Oh, what's wrong, Viv? Are you upset about your room?"

I nodded.

"Come let's talk," he led me to the edge of his bed and settled me there. He sat down beside me and took my hand in his. While he waited for me to calm down he caressed my palm and smiled encouragingly. After I composed myself he asked me again to tell him what was wrong.

"I thought Papa wanted to see me but he only wanted to tell me he's having company and that they are staying in my room! He doesn't care about me. He didn't want to see me because he missed me. The only reason he wanted to see me was so he could tell me he was taking my room for his guests."

"Oh, that's not true, Viv. You know Papa has missed you; he's missed us all. Papa is just not very expressive with his feelings. You should know that by now. Besides, you shouldn't be so upset, Vivienne, after all, how much have you missed Papa?"

I opened my mouth but didn't speak knowing there was nothing I could say that wouldn't be a lie. Jean was very perceptive and though he usually kept his sentiments to himself, he always seemed to know everyone else's innermost thoughts.

"You're not upset that Papa didn't miss you, are you?"

"Non," I admitted.

"You're upset he's home and you're afraid he won't approve of your...friendship," he said suggestively, "with Gabriel."

I looked away abashed.

"Do you love him, Viv?"

My lips quivered and never had I wanted to confide in anyone more than I wanted to confide in Jean. After everything that happened that day I couldn't imagine my life without Gabriel. It was just like he said – he was a part of me, a part of me I couldn't live without.

"Do you know what it says in the bible about love?"

I shook my head.

"Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends," I looked in his eyes and I could see he was speaking sincerely. "If you really love Gabriel and he loves you; nothing can conquer that, Vivienne. Your love will find a way to keep you together."

It was just the thing I needed to hear. I smiled and squeezed his hands, "Thank you, Jean."

He nodded then stood up and handed me a kerchief. After I wiped my eyes he helped me to my feet, "Keeping busy is the best thing you can do right now. Why don't you go up to the attic and make sure you like the way it's arranged," he suggested. "Oh, and if there's anything new you might want, perhaps now is a good time to ask – guilt is a powerful motivator," he winked.

"Huh," I tilted my head and wondered if Papa might feel a little guilty for evicting me from my room. "Well, Isolde needs a bed, and I could use a new mirror for myself."

"Now you're looking on the bright side," he nodded.

I felt so much better after we talked. With a much improved outlook I took his advice and made my way up to the attic. It was clean, polished and dusted. The windows were open and the air was fresh. I looked around and decided it wouldn't be as bad as I imagined. The servants had tried to position things as close to my old room as the new space would allow, but I decided it wouldn't do. I made a mental plan of what I wanted to change then called them back to help me with the modifications.

They were just finishing up when the bell rang for dinner. I refreshed myself and hurried down to the dining room. Everyone was already at the table and I felt their eyes on me as I took my seat. I smiled at each of them and wondered why they were all watching me. As I pulled my chair in Isolde laid down behind me.

"Vivienne," my father's voice was full of disapproval, "we're having company soon and the dining room is no place for a dog."

"Oh," I glanced over my shoulder at her. "Oui, Papa."

I slid back from my chair and led Isolde towards the kitchen. My father caught my eye and shook his head so I took her to the hallway then across into the parlor instead.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but you'll have to wait here for me. I won't be long, I promise."

She didn't like the idea of being away from me and when I started back towards the dining room Isolde tried to follow.

"No, Isolde. Stay!" I spoke more harshly than I intended and it broke my heart when she gave a confused whimper and turned away.

"Vivienne," my mother called from the dining room, "we're all waiting for you."

Dinner ended up being longer than usual since my father hadn't been home for so long. Cook prepared several of his favorite dishes and my parents ate slowly while they caught up. I hated leaving Isolde alone but I couldn't excuse myself too soon. Near the end of the meal my father asked me if I had looked over my new room.

"Oh, yes, Papa, I have and it's much more than I expected," I tried to sound enthusiastic. "It could use a few things to make it complete, though."

"And what would those be?" he asked.

I told him my thoughts then innocently asked, "Do you think that would be too much?"

He glanced at my mother and she shrugged her assent, "I will arrange what I can before our guests arrive."

"Merci, Papa," I beamed. "May I be excused? I would like to take Isolde out before bed."

"Of course," my father answered.

I said goodnight to my mother and brothers and sent a special look of gratitude towards Jean for sharing his insights with me. After curling a little something from my plate into my palm I went straight for the parlor. Isolde perked up as soon as I appeared. I soothed her and apologized for being so sharp with her and for leaving her alone so long. After giving her the treat I pilfered, I brought her outside for our bedtime stroll.

The moon was high making it easy to see where we were going as long as we stayed in the front of the house. Isolde had other ideas though. She leapt down the steps and darted away. I imagined she was after a rabbit or some other vermin on a nocturnal ramble but as I rounded the corner I heard a familiar chuckle. At once I knew the quarry she was after.

"Gabriel," I whispered as I stepped towards the sound. I stumbled into the two of them where they were crouching down exchanging greetings.

"Ah," he caught me before I lost my balance.

"What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you."

"You shouldn't be here! What if I hadn't come out?"

"I would have gone home and worried about you all night."

"But why?"

He wrapped his arms around me, "I always worry about you when you're not with me, today especially, since your father came home. Is he well?"

"Yes, quite it seems."

"And you, how are you?"

"As well as I can be," I sighed.

"But things won't be the same now, will they?"

"No," I admitted.

"Then we must make the most of every moment we have."

I rested my head against his chest, "Yes, we must."

Having him hold me reminded my body of all the passionate sensations we created together earlier that day. Though I wondered if it was just me I thought I could sense a similar longing in his touch. Without thinking I raised my lips to his. For a moment I wished that he would hike my skirts and take me there in the dark.

"Non, love, not like this...I'll think of something," he assured me as he covered me with kisses.

"Yes, yes," I pleaded. "I'll try too."

We pulled apart and said goodnight.

It had been a long day so Isolde and I went straight to my room and got ready for bed. For a while I tossed and turned and didn't think I would be able to fall asleep. Then I pictured Gabriel lying beside me. It was comforting to imagine him there and the last thing I remembered was nuzzling my pillow and whispering "I love you," into its depth.

## Chapitre Neuf

The house was in an uproar. Everyone was full of anxiety trying to get everything in order before my father's guests arrived. There was so much preparation and planning I could easily sneak away for an hour or two each afternoon to visit Gabriel. I told him all about the conversation I had with my father and my relocation to the attic. He asked me who we were expecting and why there was so much importance being placed on their coming.

I didn't remember their names and wondered whether my father ever mentioned them. "I'm not sure who they are, but I would rather not talk about them, anyway." We were sitting together in the loft our feet dangling over the edge, sharing our lunches. "It's good they're so busy and distracted," I said as I brushed a lock of his hair from his eyes. "If they're like this again tomorrow maybe we can meet at the clearing," I smiled at Gabriel and saw how enticing the suggestion sounded.

He pushed his lunch aside and took my lips in his. His hands raced over my chest and thighs; my body thrilling at his touch. This time it was my turn to be our voice of reason.

"Gabriel," I gasped, "we mustn't. Not here, not now."

"No...yes...you're right," he seemed to shake himself back to reality. He leaned over and with a wicked gleam in his eye kissed the back of my neck. "But tomorrow..."

"Oui," my skin rippling with gooseflesh, "demain," I assured him while I did my best to check my own desires. "Tomorrow," I promised, "tomorrow we can be together!" and though I was smiling, I roughly pushed him away.

Reluctantly Gabriel turned back to his lunch. There was an impish grin playing on his lips, though, and I realized I still wasn't safe despite his resumed interest in eating. I tried to distract him by asking about his father and about Deaglan. He gave me brief answers glancing up at me each time but saying nothing more than a few words.

"It's no use, is it?"

"Non," he shook his head and widened his grin.

I leaned toward him and pressed my lips to his. My mind went dizzy with delight as the kiss lingered moment after moment and I could think of nothing but never letting it end. It was so absorbing I didn't notice that someone was calling up to us from below until Isolde gave a happy bark and startled me back to my senses.

"Oh, Jean," I abruptly stood up, "how long have you been there?" I colored with shame.

He smiled and looked at Gabriel, "sorry to interrupt your..." he cleared his throat, "lunch... but my father asked me to bring his horse to him."

"I'll be right down." Gabriel stood up and brushed the crumbs from his thighs. He looked at me and despite that I shook my head no at him he kissed me on my cheek and whispered, "Demain," before scurrying down from the loft.

I cleaned up the remnants of our lunch then followed him down, "Goodbye," I called as Gabriel gathered my father's tack.

"You don't have to leave, Viv," Jean walked me to the doorway.

"It's better that I do."

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you."

"It's not that...I...I have plans."

"If you wait, I'll walk back with you."

"Non, then Papa will know you found me here," I said.

Jean nodded, "Right, well, I'll see you at home then. You don't need to hide your feelings from me, Viv, I will keep them to myself."

"I know. Thank you, Jean," I kissed his cheek and waved again to Gabriel as he finished saddling my father's horse.

I still felt flushed from being caught with Gabriel so Isolde and I crept in through the kitchen. From there we made our way upstairs and just as we neared the attic Isolde charged in growling and bristling. I chased after her and tried calling her back as I ran up the last few steps. When I crossed the threshold, my eyes followed Isolde to my bed and I nearly screamed when I realized there was someone resting in it.

"Damn she's a beast!" he tried kicking her away. "Why does she hate me so?" Philippe asked.

I clutched at my heart trying to still it, "Why shouldn't she? You startled her," I defended her behavior. "You startled me, Philippe!! What are you doing here?"

"Call off your mutt and I'll tell you."

I looked him over, "Isolde, come!"

She grudgingly trotted to my side. Philippe slid his feet over the edge of my bed and pushed himself to sitting, "I've come to say goodbye," he said.

"Goodbye?"

"Oui, I'm going meet Papa's guests in Villetoureix and bring them the rest of the way here."

"But Jean only asked for Papa's horse," I immediately regretted saying it.

"Ah, so you've been with that peasant boy again, have you? What do you see in him, anyway?"

I didn't answer knowing he wouldn't understand.

"Oh, well, it doesn't matter. Sooner or later Papa will marry you off and that will be the end of it."

My face fell despite my efforts to hide my emotions. Wrapped up in my feelings for Gabriel I never considered the possibility I would marry anyone else.

"Touched a nerve have I?"

I scowled at him.

He sat silent for a moment studying me then said, "Come now," his expression was full of regret, "this is no way to leave off." Philippe stood up, "I'm sorry I teased you," he sighed and took a step towards me. His handsome face was so sincere, so believable. "Just give me a hug goodbye and I'll go," he held his arms out. I reluctantly stepped into them. "I'm sorry," he said again, whispering it into my hair.

Then he slowly tightened his grip and I felt a quiver of panic run through me. He thrust his groin hard against me, "You're fucking him, aren't you?! I knew there was something different about you."

He tried reaching down between my legs but Isolde sensed that I was in trouble and lunged for Philippe toppling us both. I scrambled away and watched as he cowered beneath Isolde's attack. There was a gleeful horror in the scene but I couldn't let her hurt him.

"Isolde!" I shrieked, "No!" she released his arm and snarling with rage stood over him until I demanded she come to me.

"Get out!" I screamed at Philippe, "Get out or I'll let her finish what she started!"

He stood up and inspected himself. Somehow he escaped with nothing more than a few minor punctures and a torn sleeve. "Goodbye, Sister. I'll see you when I get back," there was a vicious curve in his lips. "Oh, and I like your room," he glanced around taking it all in. "You're so far away from everyone here, I bet you could scream like that all night and no one would hear you."

"Get out!" I pointed with severity and Isolde seconded my command. As soon as he left, I sunk to my knees in shock and grief, "Oh, God!" I cried.

I couldn't move, couldn't think as I sobbed in remorse and disbelief. My room grew dark, the dinner bell rang, but I never heard it. Minutes later Jean came into my room and took me by my shoulders.

"Viv?" What happened consumed me and I nearly struck him when he touched me. "Whoa, Viv, it's me Jean," he clutched at my hands. "What happened to you? Why are you like this?" he soothed.

"Oh, Jean," I threw my arms around him and gave wild abandon to my tears.

"Ssh, ssh," he whispered as he helped me to standing. He shuffled me toward my bed and had me sit down. "Vivienne, what is it? What's wrong? Is it Gabriel, did something happen? Did he do something to you?" There was a protective anger in his voice.

"Non, non," I clutched at his hand when he started towards my door. I thought he planned to leave me and confront Gabriel. "Please don't go!"

He heard the urgency in my voice and came back, "I won't." He sat beside me and stroked my forehead as he looked me over. "I can't help you, though, if I don't know what's wrong."

I wanted to tell him what happened, I needed to tell someone. Confiding in Jean, though, I would have to tell him everything, tell him I was no longer a virgin, that I had made love to Gabriel. That Philippe knew and what Philippe had done and what he threatened.

"I can't tell you, Jean. I can't tell anyone!"

"It was Philippe, wasn't it," Jean had a faraway look in his eyes. I could see him thinking, picturing what might have taken place. "I saw him come down the hall holding his arm before he left. He was bleeding. Isolde did it; she was protecting you from him. What did he do, Viv? What did he do?!"

"Nothing, Jean, I swear! He has...he's just never forgiven me and Gabriel for what happened to you both the night they found you in the woods. He...he...he grabbed me and he threatened me...but...but nothing happened."

Jean was peering into my eyes as I said it, "I don't believe you, Vivienne. I know the kind of man Philippe is. He trembled with suppressed rage, "I've seen the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is watching. I never thought he would..." Jean choked the words back. "He's gone now; he left over an hour ago. It'll be a day or two before he comes back. Then there will be Papa's guests. You'll need to stay home while we have company; Papa will expect it. Hmm," he paused, "I'll have one of the servants put a lock on your door and give you the key. You'll have to keep it locked, always, even when you're not here."

"Oh, yes, I will!"

He smiled weakly, "I could speak with Papa for you..."

"Non, Jean, Non! Papa would never believe you and it would only make matters worse with Philippe."

"Vivienne..."

"Non, Jean, non!"

It horrified me, the idea of anyone else knowing and I felt terrified that if Jean aired his suspicions to our father Philippe and I would both be questioned. Philippe knew, he knew about Gabriel and me. I was sure he would use the knowledge to cover his own crime by exposing mine.

"Alright, Viv," Jean patted my hand. "I need to get back to dinner. I'll tell Mama and Papa that you're not feeling well and are resting. After they've gone to bed, I'll ask Cook to send a tray up for you and Isolde."

I stood up, "Thank you, Jean," and walked him to the door.

## Chapitre Dix

Jean came back the next morning and rapped on my door. "Viv?" he called.

"I'll be right there," I finished tucking up my hair. "Good morning," I noticed he had a servant with him when I let him in.

"Is now a good time?"

"Oh, yes. I was about to head down to breakfast."

"Me, too," Jean held his elbow out and I graciously accepted. "Would you leave the key on the vanity when you're done?"

The servant nodded and got to work.

My parents were in the dining room sipping coffee while they waited for us to join them.

"Good morning, Mama...Papa," I said to each.

It was the first time we were all together for several days. My parents had been so busy making plans they either skipped their meals or had trays sent to wherever they were working. Jean and I took advantage of their company and asked all the questions we hadn't yet had a chance ask.

We learned that the guests my father was expecting were business associates of his. They exported our family's wines to America and were coming to see our vineyards and cellars first hand.

"What are their names, Papa?"

"Mr. and Ms. Delacroix," he replied.

"Are they married?" I asked.

My father laughed, "Non, they are cousins, though you would never know it simply looking at them."

"What do you mean?"

"They are...just two very different people," he smiled. "She's quite beautiful," he paused, "very much like you, Vivienne." My father seemed to scrutinize me. "She's taller and her complexion somewhat fairer, but her hair..." again he paused, "and her eyes, though yours are...what color are your eyes, Vivienne?"

It offended me he didn't know but I kept my tone in check, "My eyes are hazel, Papa."

"Hmm, non, Claire's are more amber than anything else."

I noticed my mother out of the corner of my eye. It was upsetting for her to hear my father talk so openly about another woman's beauty. Jean noticed, too, and tried to turn the conversation. "And Mr. Delacroix, what's he like?" Jean asked.

"Ah, Gavin..."

"Gavin," I frowned, "that's not a French name?"

"Non, it's not. His mother was English and he's named after her father. He has that washed-out look of the Englishman, too," my father chuckled. "Gavin is tall and pasty; his hair is like straw and he's always wearing this useless laissez-faire expression on his face. You might guess he was a half-wit if you were to look at him without knowing him. His mind is in stark contrast to his appearance though. He doesn't speak much but when he does, it's insightful and to the point."

"Gavin Delacroix," I said the name to myself and tried to picture him in my mind.

My father turned and cocked his head at me, "Perhaps I'm being too harsh on the young man's features. Women have softer hearts and softer eyes and can often find the beauty that men overlook. I'm sure you will be a better judge than me, Vivienne, and give the man his due."

I wasn't sure why he said it but there seemed to be a hidden meaning in my father's words. Either way he had given me a lot to think about. I finished my breakfast and excused myself to take Isolde for her morning walk. Before I left the house Jean approached me, "Don't forget your key. You should get it and lock up. It will need to be a habit so there's no chance for anything unfortunate to happen."

"Oh, yes. Thank you for reminding me!"

I ran up to my room and found the key. After securing the door I tried it in the lock once or twice. It seemed to work just fine, so I headed outdoors and together Isolde and I walked to the stables. Gabriel was shoeing one of the horses and smiled at us as we strolled into the barn. I told Isolde to run and play while I waited for Gabriel to finish.

"Mmm," he smiled and hugged me off my feet. He spun me around once or twice before setting me down and taking my face in his hands so he could kiss me. "Good morning, chérie! I'm so happy to see you!"

I squeezed him back, "Oh, I love you!"

He looked down at me and brushed my cheeks with his thumbs then cocked his head at me, "Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Oui, Gabriel, everything is fine. It's just...I'll miss you when my father's company arrives. He'll expect me to help entertain his guests while they're here and I won't be able to get away as often."

"I know," he sighed, "Jean suggested the same thing yesterday." Gabriel gave me a quirky little grin. "He's not quite the person I imagined him to be," he said as he took my hand and led me toward the steps leading up to the loft.

"Why do you say that?" I asked somewhat puzzled by the statement.

"Jean was very talkative when he came for your father's horse yesterday," Gabriel stroked my hair while he spoke. "He said he was glad you and I are so...close...I think was the word he used, and that he has never seen you so happy. He told me he hasn't been able to forgive himself for all the trouble he's caused you and he hopes to make it up to you one day."

"Jean said all that?"

"Mmm, hmm," Gabriel nodded. "He said something else, too."

"Oh, what's that?"

"That there are potential outcomes we need to keep in mind and we should use extra care whenever we are...together."

"He knows," I sighed, "but I didn't tell him, Gabriel."

"I know, Vivienne. Your brother is just very insightful. He mentioned Philippe, too, and that I shouldn't underestimate how cruel he can be."

"I don't think you need to worry about Philippe," I smiled up at him as I stroked his strong, shapely arms.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, "I don't think Jean was referring to what he might do to me." I felt my body tense at the suggestion. "And now I know he was right. Philippe would hurt you to hurt me, wouldn't he? That's what Jean was saying."

I took a deep breath intending to deny it and assure him I was perfectly safe. It was impossible for me to lie to Gabriel, though; I loved him too much. Besides, he would have known if I was telling the truth or not. "Oui, Gabriel. Jean is right, Philippe...Philippe is...it's unspeakable what he might be capable of."

"Well, I can see how uncomfortable it makes you to talk about it, so I won't force you." He stood me up and spun me so I was facing him, "I love you, Vivienne, and I would move Heaven and Earth to keep you safe. Promise you will tell me if he ever tries to hurt you in any way."

I looked down at his feet, "Je promets."

"Bien," he took my chin and tilted it up so he could kiss me. "Are we still meeting at lunchtime?" his voice was free from its earlier seriousness.

"Oui," I blushed. All the joy of our love came flooding back.

"Good. I'll finish my work and see you there."

We hugged goodbye then I called to Isolde.

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully and as midday approached, I took a moment to freshen up. Afterwards I went to the kitchen to pack a lunch for me and Gabriel and a little something for Isolde. Just when I was about to slip out through the kitchen door my father and Cook walked in having a heated discussion.

"Vivienne," my father exclaimed, "what are you doing here?"

"I'm...I was just getting a few things for...for Isolde and me to have a picnic."

"A picnic, you say. A picnic...that's an excellent idea," my father turned back to Cook, "let's plan a dinner out of doors instead. It's a beautiful time of year to dine al fresco, don't you agree?"

"Oui, Monsieur, it is. Perfect, I would say," he sounded relieved.

"And let's make it in honor of Vivienne's birthday." My father turned, "Vivienne, why don't you make the menu; it should be all your favorite things."

"Mais oui, Papa. I'll do it this afternoon when I get back."

"I'd like you to do it now. Philippe may be back tonight or tomorrow at the latest and I want everything settled before he returns with our guests."

"But Papa, I have plans."

"Plans to picnic with your dog," my father guffawed at the notion, "that hardly trumps the importance of planning your birthday dinner."

I looked at my basket then longingly out the window towards the farmhouses, "I don't want my basket to go to waste, surely it can..."

"Non, surely it cannot. Cook, help Vivienne make her menu." My father pivoted on his heel and strode out of the kitchen.

Cook motioned me to take a seat, "Well, let's get started; the sooner we begin the sooner we're fini. He brought out his notes and scribbled down my name and the day the dinner was to be served. Let's start with the hors d'oeuvres."

"Hors d'oeuvres..." I thought to myself. It had been a long time since we'd had a formal dinner. I wondered how many courses I would have to plan. "I don't know what to suggest," I looked at Cook hoping he would give me some ideas.

He rattled off several options and offered me brief descriptions of each. It was overwhelming and though Papa told me to choose my favorites, I thought of all the people I would need to please other than myself. I wanted my mother and father to be proud of my selections and I wanted to impress our guests. Unfortunately the more I considered the choices the less inclined I was to pick one.

It was distracting to know I wouldn't be able to meet Gabriel like I planned. I hated disappointing him and couldn't keep myself from glancing out the window every few minutes. Cook grew irritated with my daydreaming and inability commit to anything and that only made matters worse. An hour later my father returned to the kitchen and asked how we were progressing. I confessed that we hadn't gotten past the fish course and his face fell with disappointment.

"Vivienne, I have not asked you for a single contribution to the success of our visit except for this."

"You asked me to give up my room," I retorted. My eyes widened in disbelief when I realized what I said and how I said it.

My father's face went livid, "Cook, would you excuse us a moment," he said.

"I'm sorry, Papa," teary-eyed I stuttered.

I thought he would yell at me but he clenched his fist to his forehead and took a deep breath to master his temper. When he looked up, all of his anger had vanished. I felt dizzy as we stood facing one another and a wave of déjà vu swept over me. It was that look again, that needy, sickly look. My father's appearance reminded me of the last time he was home. He seemed pale and anxious and my eyes fell on that unmistakable mark on his neck again.

He took a step towards me and grasped my elbows, "I need you to do this for me, Vivienne. I need you to make a good impression on our guests. There is a great deal depending on this visit and how well it goes," he peered into my eyes.

Without knowing why I felt very sorry for him, "Oui, Papa. I will do my best, je promets."

"Bien," he kissed me on my forehead.

Cook returned and we worked out the remaining courses as well as wines to go with each. For dessert I told Cook I preferred coffee. I also asked if he would mind trying his hand at Gabriel's crème puffs if I could get a copy of the recipe. He seemed more than satisfied when we finished and as soon as he scribbled the last of his notes I made my escape.

Isolde and I raced toward the farmhouses knowing that after so much time had passed the barn was the most likely place for me to find Gabriel. He was in the loft tossing bales of hay down to the stables. I raced up the stairs and threw myself into his arms.

"I'm sorry," I cried, "I'm so, so sorry."

"Ssh, love, ssh...no, no, no, don't be sorry. I'm just glad you're alright. I've been so worried about you," he held me back and kissed my cheeks. "There's more, isn't there? It's not just that you couldn't meet me."

His words seemed to trigger my understanding. I gasped and covered my mouth, "Oh...oh...oh..."

Gabriel sat on one of the hay bales and drew me down beside him, "What is it?"

"I...I...I think my father plans to...to..."

"To what, Vivienne? To what?"

"To make me marry one of his guests," the words rushed out and I felt faint as I considered the possibility.

## Chapitre Onze

Gabriel was quiet and deep in thought as he reflected on what I said. A horse neighed, another stamped its foot, but those were the only sounds I heard besides the blood rushing in my ears and my heart pounding against my chest.

"Nothing is certain, though." He took both my hands in his and kissed them each, "Are you absolutely sure that's what your father is planning?"

"Non, I'm not sure," I mumbled shaking my head.

"Well, hopefully you're wrong. But if you're not, you'll have to tell your father about us. Tell him you love me...Tell him...tell him you're already promised."

"But..."

"Do you love me, Vivienne?"

"Of course I do."

"Would you marry me, Vivienne?"

I wasn't sure how to answer. I wondered if he was just asking me for my feelings or if he was actually proposing.

"You shouldn't have to think, Vivienne. I love you. I would give my life to you. In my heart I know that we belong together. I have always known; since the moment we met."

"Yes, Gabriel, I felt that way, too. Meeting you made me happier than I have ever been. I can't imagine my life without you."

"Then tell me you'll marry me; tell me you won't marry anyone else," his voice cracked and when I met his eyes, they were pools of emotion.

In that moment I was certain that no one was ever loved half so much as I was. Despite all the consequences racing through my mind I made my promise, "I will, Gabriel. I will marry you," I spoke softly, solemnly.

He threw his arms around me in relief and covered me with kisses, "Nothing will ever come between us, Vivienne. I promise."

We only spent a few more minutes together quietly caressing each other; lost in our own thoughts and wondering how things would turn out. When we said goodbye it was with heavy hearts on both our sides. The commitment I made elated me but imagining the consequences terrified me.

"I need to go home, Gabriel. I'm not sure when I'll be able to get away again but as soon as I can I'll come see you."

Gabriel nodded, "I'll wait for you, chérie."

I stood up and brushed the strands of hay from my dress, "Oh, there is a way for a few minutes tomorrow. Would you bring Cook your recipe for the crème puffs?" I grinned.

"Oui, love, I will." Gabriel helped me down and out of the barn, "Vivienne Bergeron," he whispered as he hugged me goodbye. I loved the way it sounded.

I blew a kiss to him and called to Isolde as I stepped away. We watched one another until it was no longer possible then I turned and headed for home. Isolde seemed reluctant to leave. Sometimes I suspected that she loved Gabriel just as much as I did. I laid my hand on her back as we walked and told her that one day we would not have to leave him; that she and I and Gabriel would all live together somewhere. We would raise a little family and we would be together forever.

Neither of my parents came to dinner. Jean told me they planned an early evening so they would be rested after all the pressures of readying the house in time for our company. They had trays sent up to their rooms and asked not to be disturbed until morning. I was glad it would only be the two of us. I wanted to tell him everything I suspected our father intended for me and what I had done to prevent it.

"Jean," I called across the table towards him.

He raised his eyes from his soup and smiled weakly, "Yes, Vivienne?" There was something strange in his expression. He looked like something was weighing on him.

I tilted my head and laid down my spoon momentarily keeping my news to myself "Are you...are you unwell, too, Jean? You look..."

"Disappointed?" he asked.

"Yes, something like that. What's wrong?" I asked.

"It's..." he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Vivienne, it's not something I can share. Not yet anyway."

"Oh?" I asked surprised and curious.

"I...I just can't Viv," he apologized again.

"It's alright, Jean, I understand," I assured him. I took an absent taste of my soup and smiled, "I might have some news."

"Oh?" he smiled back and a little of his worry seemed to fall from his expression.

"I'm engaged," I said, the words rushing out in a single, exalted breath.

Jean frowned and studied me across the table, "So you know...Papa told you..." he sighed with relief. "I thought you would be upset." He frowned, "I was so sure you...but...this...this is not how I expected you to react. I'm so glad you're happy with Papa's decision."

It all unfolded like a flash in my mind and I realized that Jean misunderstood what I was saying and worse that what I suspected was true; my father did intend me to marry his guest. Jean saw the sudden changes in my emotions as they ran the gambit from utmost joy to complete devastation.

He covered his face with his hands, "You didn't know, did you? You meant to tell me that Gabriel proposed, didn't you? You had no idea Papa arranged your marriage to Mr. Delacroix, did you?"

My eyes were full of regret and I shook my head, "No, Jean. I will not marry him," I assured him. "I am already promised to Gabriel."

Jean looked up, his expression hopeless, and shook his head, "Papa will never allow you to marry Gabriel, Vivienne," he assured me.

"He must," I said. "I love Gabriel and I promised him I would marry him. No matter what Papa says or what he does; I won't marry anyone but Gabriel," I raised my head defiantly.

"You don't understand what you're saying. You haven't thought this through."

I remembered Gabriel's words and used them to express my own sentiments, "I don't have to think, Jean. I know. Gabriel and I are meant to be together." I looked away, "I hoped you would be happy for me. I thought you, of all people, you would support me." When I looked back, I could see tears standing in Jean's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Vivienne," his voice was full of sorrow.

I ripped my napkin from my lap and tossed it onto the table before fleeing the room full of anger and disappointment. Isolde followed me to my room and once we were both in I locked the door behind me. I paced back and forth, back and forth as I wondered how I would go about telling my father I was in love with Gabriel. Jean was right, I was sure of it. My father would never let me marry him. I tried to imagine a way to convince him but everything my mind came up with ended with misery.

There didn't seem to be any way to escape the fate my family planned for me. Broken-hearted by all the possibilities I flopped down onto my bed and sobbed into my pillow.

A short while later Isolde whined and nudged me from my sorrowful reverie. I hadn't taken her out after dinner so I composed myself and made a hasty escape. After whipping by Jean's open doorway we bustled down the stairs, along the foyer and out into the night air. I considered running down the path to the farmhouses but Isolde suddenly stopped in front of me. She stood as still as a statue with her nose twitching at a scent it caught on the light breeze.

I peered into the darkness wondering what had caught her attention. She looked poised and determined. It made me nervous because most of the time she was so happy, aloof and carefree.

"Isolde," I called and urged her to hurry.

She glanced back and squatted down. When she finished, she turned back toward the house. As I opened the front door to let us in, she stopped again and took another deep whiff of the air.

"Come Isolde," I ushered her through the doorway. We started up the stairs and as we did, my father appeared at the landing.

He looked like he wanted to say something but before he could utter a single syllable Isolde growled and bristled at him. My father backed away.

"Isolde," I scolded, "no! Bad dog!"

Once I got her under control my father came back to the top of the stairs, "Vivienne, what is wrong with your dog?!" my father demanded.

"I'm not sure," I shook my head but then she snarled again and strained forward. She looked like she was about to attack him. I threw my arms around her neck before she could take more than a step or two, "No! No, Isolde! No!"

My father's fear turned to anger. He whipped one of his shoes off and brandished it as he came towards us ready to strike. He whacked Isolde as hard as he could across her nose. She gave a dreadful yelp but quickly recovered and started towards him again. She was the most menacing creature I had ever seen as she toppled my father.

The commotion drew my mother and Jean to the top of the stairs. My brother knocked my mother aside and flew down to my father and dragged him up and away from Isolde while I tried to yank her in the opposite direction. I lost my grip, though, and tumbled down the stairs. The wind knocked out of me when I hit the floor. I made a pitiful noise and as soon as Isolde saw I was in trouble she forgot all about my father and leapt down to my side. She licked my face over and over again until my lungs finally found their rhythm and I sucked in a deep and painful breath.

"Jean," my father commanded, "go down there and put that devilish beast outside!"

He hurried down, threw the door open and for whatever reason Isolde obeyed him when he told her to "Git!"

Though I couldn't see her from where I lay I heard her bound away, "No," I choked the word out. I tried to sit-up so I could go after her but my chest ached too badly to move and I helplessly fell back down.

My mother and father came down the stairs and hovered over us.

"Ssh," Jean soothed, "ssh. Just relax a minute. Catch your breath. Isolde will be alright. You need to worry about yourself right now."

I closed my eyes for a long moment and then remembering that Jean was not my ally, clawed my way up his arm and pushed myself to standing. I tried to reach for the doorknob but my father cruelly knocked my hand away.

"Let that dog back in and I will put a bullet in her, do you understand me?!"

My face went ashen with shock and my eyes shifted from one of them to the next as I tried to decide what to do. Strangely it was my mother who came to my aid. She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and guided me away from the scene. I was too dumbfounded to resist as she led me upstairs and the length of the house to the attic.

She helped me undress and tucked me into my bed, "It's not been a very good day for you has it?"

"Non, Mama," I whimpered.

"Get some rest, dear. Everything will seem better in the morning," she kissed my forehead and whispered goodnight.

Nothing she ever said meant anything to me. I never found any value in her words but I loved her for what she had done over the past few minutes. For the first time in my life, I felt like my mother understood me and what I was going through. I took a deep breath and shuddered letting it all out as she left.

"Oh, my door," I thought with a twinge of panic. Then I remembered that Philippe was still away so I rolled to my side rather than getting back up and left it unlocked.

## Chapitre Douze

It was a fretful night. I fell asleep over and over again only to wake myself right back up. I worried about Gabriel and Isolde, feared having to face Philippe again and meeting Monsieur and Mademoiselle Delacroix. More than once I imagined myself confessing my engagement to my mother and father and telling them I would not break it and marry anyone else.

The chaotic ideas didn't die down until after midnight, by then I was too tired to consider anything but rest. I slept for several hours but then I woke up having the distinct impression someone was talking to me.

"Vivienne," a man whispered and he eased his arm behind my back. He adjusted me to sitting. I should have been afraid but found myself complacent and calm. "I'm sorry to wake you, Vivienne," he continued, "but I need your help." He knelt down on the floor and though I tried to make him out, it was too dark for me to see more than his outline.

"Will you help me, Vivienne?" his voice sounded so anxious, so desperate. It nearly broke my heart and I heard my voice crack with sorrow when I answered, "Oui, of course I will. I'll help you; however, I can."

I reached out hoping to comfort him but he took my hand and caressed it between his fingertips. They were so cool and smooth yet taunt with a fearful strength. I panicked for a moment but then he turned my palm over and told me to close my eyes. I wanted to refuse him and knew that I should try to get away. His voice was willful and commanding, though, and I let him lift my arm and bring my wrist to his lips.

There was a dreadful pain that made me want to cry out but I couldn't. An odd, almost unimaginable serenity settled over me afterwards and it felt like I was being turned inside out but in an intensely pleasurable and erotic way. I could almost feel myself being drawn away and swept into this strange person kneeling at the edge of my bed and I never wanted it to end.

"Oh," I moaned, "please, please," I begged but he pulled himself away and without his support I slumped back against my pillow.

He brushed the hair from my forehead, and kissed my temple, "Thank you, Vivienne. Now I will be strong for you tomorrow."

He stepped away and when he did, it seemed like a veil fell over my mind's eye and everything that happened vanished in the dreamy haze it created.

The following morning I sat bolt upright with the sun shining bright and the breakfast bell ringing. I was groggy and weak as I slid from my covers and though I tried to hurry knowing how late it must have been I didn't have the strength. My head throbbed while I dressed and for a moment I was afraid I might fall faint.

When I finally made it to the dining room, everyone glanced my way and I apologized for keeping them all waiting. I took my seat and my mother motioned to have our meal served. As I leaned back to let a servant fill my plate I glimpsed my father sitting at the head of the table and thought he seemed very refreshed that morning. It reminded me of the way he looked when he first got back from Paris.

I glanced at my mother, and she too, looked strangely rejuvenated. It was more noticeable on her because I couldn't ever remember seeing her when she hadn't been taking her laudanum. Her complexion, the brightness of her eyes, the sheen of her hair; everything about her seemed a little more vibrant. I blinked and looked again just to be sure I wasn't mistaken.

I turned toward Jean, but he was eating his breakfast and didn't seem aware of anything unusual.

"Eat, Vivienne," my father teased, "you look as though you never sat down to a meal before," he finished with a chuckle.

Despite the lingering disappointment I had for what he did to Isolde, I smiled at his good humor. I took up my silverware and picked away at my breakfast.

"I hope you slept well, Vivienne, we have a busy day. Did you know our guests arrived late last night?"

"Non, Papa, I did not. I...I must have slept soundly," I frowned because I didn't feel as though I slept at all. I brought a forkful of fruit to my mouth and as I lifted my arm an image flashed in my mind like a memory or a dream.

"Is everything alright, Vivienne? You look...confused."

"Oui, Papa. I...I think I had a strange dream last night but I'm having trouble remembering it."

"Well, perhaps you shouldn't dwell on it. I'm sure it's not worth missing breakfast over," he said with indifference.

When I finished eating my thoughts returned to Isolde. I wondered where she was and hoped that it was someplace safe. I asked to be excused and my father nodded his approval. He reminded me of our company.

"They should be rested and ready to join us by lunchtime. I expect you to be here so they can meet you."

I nodded my understanding then went to the kitchen to ask Cook if he had seen Isolde and if she had eaten. He apologized and said he hadn't noticed her. He seemed distracted, so I decided I'd better look for her myself.

I stepped outside and circled the house. I called to her several times but without any luck. After making a complete circuit I sat down on the front steps exasperated. I considered going to the stables to see if she had gone to Gabriel but didn't want to risk not being able to get back in time. I looked longingly down the path and sighed. Then I gathered up my skirts and turned to head back inside.

"Vivienne!"

I whirled around and there was Deaglan just coming over the rise and striding towards me. Joyously leaping ahead of him was Isolde. She flattened me on the steps and licked me with a savage affection that had me laughing so hard tears rolled down my cheeks.

Though he enjoyed watching her torture me Deaglan called her off and helped me to my feet. "Someone's missed you!"

"I've missed her," I gathered Isolde's happy face in my hands and kissed her nose. "Where did you find her?"

"I didn't, she found me!"

"Well, thank goodness she did. She...my father...oh, Deaglan," all my happiness faded. "She tried to attack my father last night and he put her out and wouldn't let me go after her."

All the seriousness of what I said washed over Deaglan, "She didn't hurt him, did she?"

"No, but," I shook my head, "I think...would it be alright if she stayed with you for a while? At least until I can be sure it won't happen again?"

"Of course," he said, "She and Trista will love spending a few days together."

"Thank you, Deaglan. Have you seen Gabriel this morning?"

"Not yet. When I saw Isolde without you I worried that something was wrong and came straight here."

It was hard not to think about all the things that were wrong, "Everything is fine," I smiled. "She's just upset with all the changes taking place. We have company and I have moved to a new room and my father no longer lets her in the kitchen or dining room. Once things are back to normal we'll forget all about this, right Isolde?"

Deaglan looked skeptical but didn't try to contradict me. We talked for another minute or two and after giving him a message for Gabriel, Deaglan and Isolde started on their way back towards the farmhouses. It wrenched my heart to watch her go but it was a relief to know that she was safe and with Deaglan.

Once they disappeared from view, I decided I'd better get ready to meet our guests. As lunchtime neared, I got a little nervous but then Cook summoned me to the kitchen. I remembered Gabriel's promise to bring his recipe and forgot all about our guests as I hurried down to see him. He was a little dusty and disheveled from his morning's work but when he smiled, he took my breath away. I flushed from head to toe and tried to compose myself before Cook noticed.

It was too late though; I saw the understanding in Cook's eyes. He grinned and winked at me before making a scanty excuse to leave us alone for a moment. As soon as the door closed behind him I ran into Gabriel's arms and lost myself in the rapture of his kiss. It reminded me of my dream or what I thought was my dream. I had that wonderful sense of being swept away from myself and into someone else but there was something different this time. It seemed...mutual...like an exchange rather a drawing away of myself with nothing in return.

Gabriel reluctantly pulled back and smiled down into my eyes, "What was that for?" his voice was full of surprise.

"I...I've just missed you," I gave him another quick peck. "Did you talk to Deaglan, did he tell you what happened?" I pulled Gabriel to the broad bench in the corner of the kitchen.

"He told me about your father and Isolde, yes," he shook his head.

"And did he tell you that my father's guests are here?"

"Non, he probably didn't realized I'd want to know."

I took his hands in mine and squeezed them, "It's true, Gabriel. My father expects me to marry Mr. Delacroix. Jean told me at dinner last night. I'm not sure how he knew, whether my father told him, or if he overheard a conversation. I'm sure Jean wouldn't have said it, though, unless it were true."

Gabriel took a deep breath and looked away, "Have you confronted your father? Have you asked him outright and did you tell him about us?"

I pursed my lips, "Non, I did not Gabriel. I never had a chance. My parents were not at dinner and I didn't see them until I was heading up to bed...that is when Isolde went after my father. Afterwards I couldn't think about anything except what happened."

"I understand," he caressed a loose strand of my hair. "We could do it together," he looked hopeful and sincere, "if you're afraid to do it alone."

"Thank you, Gabriel, but I think it would be best for me to tell him myself."

He looked disappointed but didn't disagree or try to discourage me. We heard voices in the dining room and both said at once that Gabriel should go. He tucked the recipe into my hand, kissed my cheek and disappeared.

## Chapitre Treize

I watched from the window as Gabriel walked away and descended from view. It was Cook's voice we heard and he must not have realized that I hadn't left. When he threw the door open and walked back in I moved towards him intending to hand him the recipe Gabriel left. Before I could utter my explanation, though, I saw he was not alone.

There was a strange man with him and based on my father's description I guessed who it was. My heart caught in my chest and I frantically tried to calm myself as Gavin smiled at me from where he stood. The way he was looking at me filled me with indecision and I couldn't find the will to look away.

Thankfully, Cook recovered from his surprise and gave a little bow, "Mademoiselle Vivienne," he said snapping me back to attention.

"Oui, I brought you the recipe we talked about," I tucked it into his hand and managed a faint curtsey. As I hurried toward the door, though, Gavin stepped into my path.

"Non. Stay. Please. It's a happy circumstance we should meet now and can introduce ourselves without all the formality and reserve of an audience."

His voice froze my insides; it sounded so familiar. I looked at Cook, hoping he would find a few words to help me escape. He misread my expression though and took a step forward. With a significant look at Gavin, he introduced us, "Mr. Delacroix, this is Mademoiselle Vivienne Rousseau, daughter of your hosts Monsieur and Madame Rousseau."

Mr. Delacroix extended his hand, "It's such a pleasure to meet you Ms. Rousseau."

"Merci, Monsieur, I have been looking forward to welcoming you to our home," the words tumbled out and I offered a timid smile as I took his hand. It was cool and smooth and...my mind wandered away for a few seconds as I stood staring at the fingers that held mine.

The moment seemed to stretch itself out until Mr. Delacroix finally let go, "I was just speaking with your chef about our plans for dinner. My cousin, Ms. Claire, is not yet rested and I'm afraid she won't be able to join you and your family for lunch today. I hoped to persuade Cook to prepare her favorite dish this evening and that the enticement would help coax her from the exhausted state she's in."

"That is very thoughtful of you Mr. Delacroix," I replied.

He tilted his head at me, "Thank you...Vivienne, may I call you Vivienne?"

"Oh..." it was unexpected and I wasn't sure how to respond.

He studied my expression and seemed to realize how uncomfortable he had made me, "I'm sorry; I know we have only just met. It wasn't trying to be forward; I assure you." Gavin sighed and looked away, "Vivienne..." he flashed a quick grin and turned back, "it's such a lovely name. I have heard it so often since we left Paris that I can't seem to think of you any other way. It suits you."

I was unaccustomed to compliments and his remark caught me off guard. I blushed and looked away to hide my face.

"And there, I have done it again," Gavin chuckled.

It may have been an attempt at an apology but his laughter only heightened my distress. Cook realized how anguished I had become and cleared his throat.

Gavin turned toward him, "Ah, yes, dinner."

I used the distraction to make my getaway, "I'll let you make your plans. It was a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur."

I fled to my room and locked the door behind me. I was breathless and so discomfited that I buried my face in my hands and sunk to the floor. "Oh, God!" I cried as I pictured the scene that had just taken place. It had not gone at all like I imagined it would.

I wanted to dislike Mr. Delacroix and even though he made me so self-conscious...

"He was nice," I admitted.

And handsome, and...and there was something about him. His voice, his touch, it was so...

"Familiar," my mind found the word.

There was something though, a hint of wrongness about him I wasn't able to put my finger on. The minutes ticked by and I slowly regained my composure. When the bell rang calling us to lunch, I forced myself to my feet and checked myself in the mirror. After making a few adjustments I took a deep breath and descended to the dining room. My mother, father and Jean had already taken their seats.

As I made my way toward my usual place my father interjected, "Ah, Vivienne, here," he pulled the chair to his right for me and motioned me to sit.

I hesitated but took the seat he suggested. Moments later Philippe and Gavin walked in together grinning and chatting animatedly. We all stood up to welcome them, Philippe sat down beside Jean and Gavin moved to the only open setting next to me.

"Please," my father beamed, "let me introduce you, Mr. Delacroix, to my family."

My father turned to his left, "My son who has journeyed with you these past few days, Philippe, his brother Jean." Gavin reached across the table to take their hands one then the other. Then my father gestured toward my mother, "My wife Hélène," Gavin brushed a kiss across her wrist as she extended her fingertips towards him. My father looked at me, his eyes full of pride, "And lastly, Mr. Delacroix, my daughter, Vivienne."

"An honor," he took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as he bowed his head.

My father nodded for us to resume our seats and Gavin held my chair for me. As he urged it closer to the table, he urged it a little closer to himself as well. Throughout lunch he struck up several conversations first with my father, then my mother and afterwards turning his attention to Jean. I sat and listened though only with half my attention. While Gavin and my parents talked about his trip from Paris Philippe took advantage of their distraction and I felt his eyes boring into me.

The pressure of his stare brought back all the painful sensations from the last time I had seen him. The uneasiness it caused made it a challenge for me to swallow the few bites of food that passed my lips. At one point Philippe's gaze made me so uncomfortable I fumbled my fork and it clattered onto my plate causing everyone to turn my way.

"Are you alright?" Gavin asked full of concern.

"Oh, yes," I grinned. "Just a bit clumsy." Gavin looked away from me and his eyes went across the table. I followed his gaze to where it fell on Philippe who turned white as ash. All the expression left his face as he bent his head over his meal and resumed eating.

Gavin turned back and in a hushed voice asked again, "Are you sure you're well?"

"Oui, merci, Mr. Delacroix, I'm not used to company and a little nervous it would seem."

"Please," he discreetly raised his voice so that my father would hear, "call me Gavin."

"Yes, Vivienne," my father concurred, "you needn't be so formal, dear, this is a...friendly visit," he finished.

I saw the joy of this little victory in his eyes as he reached for his wine, "To friends," Gavin toasted.

I shook my head and smiled as he chinked my glass, "To friends," I seconded.

Though it took longer than usual, I made it through the rest of the meal with relative ease. I wondered why my father described Mr. Delacroix the way he had because Gavin did not at all seem quiet and willing to let things go as they may. He seemed assured and determined, eloquent and knowledgeable and at the moment not the least bit washed-out and pasty.

As I reflected on this, my mother stood and called, "Come, Vivienne, let's give the men a moment to themselves."

Gavin was the first to stand. He offered me his hand and helped me from my seat. I was thankful for the gesture because I must have had more than a sip too much of the wine that was being so generously served. I felt a little lightheaded. After saying goodbye my mother led the way and took us from the dining room across the foyer and into the parlor.

We sat down on the settee together and with girl-like vivacity, my mother took my hands and asked, "So what is your opinion of Mr. Delacroix?"

"He seems like a nice gentleman, Mama," I said.

She frowned, "And that is all you have to say."

I nodded and said with utmost assurance, "Oui, Mama. I have only just met him."

"Hmm, but I thought you would venture more than he is nice. What of his looks, his manners, do you think him pretentious or worldly...come Vivienne, share your thoughts with me," her expression was bright and encouraging.

I knew why my mother was so persistent with her curiosity, but I had never confided in her before and had little intention of doing it now. "Have you met Ms. Delacroix yet?" I asked instead.

"Non, Vivienne...I have not."

It was the only subject I could think of to turn her attention away from my thoughts on Mr. Delacroix. I recalled my father's description of Ms. Delacroix and that he said she was very beautiful. I could tell it hurt my mother to wonder what Claire would be like especially since she was so familiar with the intimate friendship the two cousins and my father seemed to share.

Seeing the pain in her eyes made me regret my choice of topic and I was sorry for whatever she must have been feeling. I laid my hand over hers, "I'm sure she is nothing like Papa described, especially after meeting Gavin. Everything Papa told us about him seems rather...inaccurate to me."

"Gavin, is it?" my mother teased with a faint yet somewhat satisfied smile.

Before I could say anything to defend myself he joined us in the parlor. My mother and I stood up to welcome him.

"Non, please, don't get up on my account," he waved us back to our seats. He spent a few minutes wandering around the room and commenting on the various things he saw. When he concluded his circuit, he settled himself in an armchair across from us.

"You have a lovely home, Mrs. Rousseau. It's very pretty and full of charm," and though he was complimenting my mother, he was looking at me.

"Thank you," my mother replied, "it has been the pride of this family for many years."

As she spoke Jean and Philippe strode across the hall engaged in a conversation about Philippe's travels. They seated themselves at one of the small drawing tables and continued their discussion. My father followed a few paces behind them and after kissing my mother's cheek stretched out on the chaise and closed his eyes.

"Frédéric, this is no time for napping! You have company. You have a duty to entertain him during his visit."

"Bah," my father opened one eye, "Gavin is quite capable of entertaining himself, trust me."

"Frédéric!" my mother persisted.

"Mrs. Rousseau, you needn't plead my case for me. Fred is right, I can entertain myself and I would... if I were to know my way around," he said pointedly.

My father sat upright, "Yes, yes of course," I saw the plan formulating and before I could object my father offered me up as Gavin's guide. "It's a beautiful day, and hours before dinner, show our guest around."

Gavin was on his feet and eager to take advantage of the suggestion. I looked from my father to mother and even shot a glance at Jean and Philippe. They paused their chatter when my father roused himself from the chaise with so much spirit and were watching with interest. Jean looked as though he meant to encourage me. Philippe just smiled his wicked little grin to show me he knew how uncomfortable I would be and how satisfying it was to make me suffer.

It was impossible to refuse with everyone watching me. My mother urged me from my seat and with his expression full of expectation Gavin offered me his arm.

## Chapitre Quatorze

I didn't dare take Gavin near the farmhouses and risk running into Deaglan or worse – Gabriel. Instead, I turned us in the opposite direction and led him toward the kitchen gardens. Once we passed through those we walked toward the shrubbery and formal grounds. I pointed out anything of significance or I thought might interest Gavin. I hoped that if I kept a constant dialogue, it would prevent our walk from taking on a romantic tone.

After about 15 minutes of moving along this way Gavin abruptly stopped cutting my latest sentence short. He stepped in front of me and with an exasperated tone, "Ms. Rousseau, please, I'm sure you understand that we're not on this errand together for the sake of educating me about your family's property."

I turned crimson and looked away, "Oui, Mr. Delacroix, je sais."

"Well, now that that is settled, please forget about the topiary and tell me something of yourself."

I looked up trembling and unsure where to begin. "What could I possibly tell him that I wouldn't prefer to keep to myself," I wondered.

He must have seen how uneasy he had made me and with a look of apology offered me his arm again. "Do you ride, Ms. Rousseau?" he asked as we resumed walking.

It seemed like he regretted upsetting me and was trying a fresh approach to get me talking again. Guardedly, I answered, "Oui, but not so often as I should. I've never enjoyed it much. I'm not very tall and often have trouble keeping my saddle."

He laughed, "Perhaps you should try stealing a pair of your brother's breeches and sitting astride."

I figured he was making a joke and laughed a little, too, "Oh, no...I would never do that!" I said.

"Claire never rides side-saddle," he offered with utmost sincerity, "In fact, I don't know many women who do anymore."

"Really?" I tried to imagine myself straddling my mare and galloping through the fields.

"Really; did you know that Marie Antoinette wore riding trousers and both she and Catherine the Great rode astride?"

"Non," I grew suspicious and despite the seriousness of his tone I believed he was having a little fun at my expense, "you're teasing me."

"Indeed I am not. There's even a portrait of Catherine to prove it. She wore an officer's uniform while she posed on her horse and had the canvas painted."

"Huh?" I shook my head in disbelief.

"I see something," he looked sideways at me, "something in your eyes. You're wondering what it would be like, and more so, wondering what it would be like to be a strong woman like Catherine or Marie."

I tried to suppress my grin and changed the subject, "Do you think your cousin is a strong woman?"

"Ha," he laughed out loud. "Claire is the strongest woman I know; she has a...an undeniable will. Whatever Claire wants, Claire gets."

"She must be very lucky."

Gavin laughed again, "I guess you might say that but it's not luck if you're just taking what you want and ignoring the consequences."

I thought about what he said for a moment. "I'm not sure I will like her then."

"Oh?"

"The way you described her makes her sound like...like a tyran...a bully."

Now it was Gavin's turn to pause and think, "I guess in the most simplistic terms, that is exactly what she is." He said it as if he had just realized the truth of it. He was quiet for several steps and I was sure I had upset him. "Well," he took a deep breath, "we have talked of your land and your horsemanship; what other topic is safe for us to dwell upon?"

I said the first thing that came to mind, "What is Paris like?"

We came to a shady part of the grounds and there was a bench tucked into a little alcove off the side of the path we were following. Gavin asked if I would like to sit down and soon we were in a lengthy question and answer about all things Paris. He was quite informative and seemed to know everything there was to know but there wasn't any fervor as he spoke. Even though he had been there for many years he didn't seem to love the city and living there was more a matter of convenience than anything else.

"You sound like you wouldn't live there if it weren't necessary."

"Non, I would not." He took a deep breath of air, "Non, I would prefer to live something like this," he motioned to all he could see. "I think I would enjoy being away from and wholly independent of the rest of the world." He looked sincere. "And you? Would you choose the city based on what I have told you or would you prefer to stay as you are?"

Though this was the first time anyone had ever asked me a question like that, it wasn't the first time I considered it. "I would choose neither," I said. "I would live in a country cottage with a little garden and some sheep and cows and ducks. And my husband would tend our crops and together we would care for the animals and raise our children. We would be simple and happy and live our lives but one for the other. Nothing would ever come between us," I sighed then blushed deeply realizing I said much more than I intended.

Gavin grinned and without hesitation asked, "And do you have this husband in mind?"

I abruptly stood up and brushed the folds from my dress, "Perhaps we should head back now. I'm sure we sat and talked longer than we imagine and I wouldn't want to cause anyone to worry unnecessarily. Besides your cousin may be refreshed and eager for your company."

"Of course," Gavin sounded disappointed but didn't press me to answer his question.

He offered me his arm again and we traced our path back to the house. While Gavin and I explored the grounds Jean managed to convince Philippe that they, too, were obligated to entertain Gavin for a part of the day. He concocted a plan to ride to the vineyards that afternoon and the cellars the next. His hope was to show Gavin as much of the wine-making process from start to finish as possible.

Once we were home Jean extended the invitation and Gavin accepted. He thanked me for my company and after saying how much he looked forward to our meeting again at dinner, said farewell.

I had a lot to think about so I decided not to join my parents while they chatted over coffee in the parlor. Instead I went up to my room and lay down. I closed my eyes and tried to remember everything that happened during the day so far. As I re-imagined it all I smiled to myself because my mind substituted Gabriel for Gavin in all that had taken place between us.

Gabriel was the one I smiled at and spoke with throughout lunch. He was the one my mother and father prompted me to take an afternoon stroll with. And when I told my dreams of love and family to him, it was Gabriel who listened and wondered if he was the husband I had in mind.

I must have dozed off for an hour or two because I awoke to a knock on my door, "Vivienne? May I come in?" my mother called.

Groggily I drew myself up and answered the door, "Oui, Mama, what is it?"

She held a dress box tied with a silken ribbon and one of the servants was with her, "I have a gift for you. This is from Ms. Delacroix; she hopes you will wear it tonight at dinner."

"Have you met her then?"

"Non, I have not, not yet," my mother said somewhat nervously. "She had it sent down so I could bring it to you." She handed me the box.

I took it to my bed and unbound the ribbon. I fumbled with the lid and after I eased it off my mother and I peeled back the soft linen wrapping. We carefully lifted the gown out of the box.

It was so simple and elegant made from very fine silk the color of merlot. The neckline was open and looked as though it would fall just beyond my collarbone almost to the tip of my shoulders. It had a high waist enhanced by a broad ribbon of matching color and the skirt itself fanned out from there and fell in soft, shimmering folds. There was some delicate lace sewn around the bust but the dress had little else for decoration.

My mother held it up, "Oh, it's beautiful. You're going to look so beautiful in it!" she beamed. "Here," she took the servants hand and led her to the doorway. "We'll give you a moment to get it on then we can pin it up if it needs to be fitted at all."

They closed the door behind them and I slipped out of my rumbled dress and into my new gown. I couldn't lace up the back, but from the feel of it, the gown fit perfectly. I opened the door and let my mother back in. She gasped when she saw me and made a quick circular inspection before lacing up the back and doing another round of scrutiny.

She shook her head, "It's stunning and it amazes me how well it fits. What do you think, Vivienne?" she steered me towards the mirror.

We hadn't had many occasions to dress up over the past few years so most days I wore somber, practical dresses. This was one of my first true evening gowns, something to be worn only on special occasions. It absolutely transformed me and I wished that Gabriel was there to see me in it, "It's beautiful, Mama; very, very beautiful and it's so soft and smooth." I ran my fingers over the fabric in emphasis.

My mother stood behind me and peered over my shoulder at our reflection. She kissed my cheek, "Monique will do your hair for you. Take your time and take care that nothing happens to your dress before dinner."

"Oui, Mama."

She smiled and left while Monique had me take a seat at the vanity. She combed out my hair and sectioned off the pieces to be curled and the ones to be pinned up. It took over an hour for her to dress my hair and when she finished, I thoroughly thanked her for all her help.

After she left, I sat at the vanity a minute or two longer turning my head this way and that. I studied my hair, my face and figure. Looking at myself reminded me of the drawing Gabriel had done and how he seemed to make me much more beautiful than I was. I felt like I was living the moment he had somehow caught on paper and the girl I saw in the picture, was the girl looking back at me from the reflection.

When the dinner bell rang I counted to 100 so I could be sure I wouldn't be the first to descend. I was eager to show myself and glowing with happiness when I made the final turn into the dining room. The murmuring from the various conversations died down and everyone looked my way when they saw me in the doorway. It was nerve-wracking and I stood frozen in place unable to control the sudden wave of self-consciousness that washed over me.

Gavin came forward and after a foray of compliments led me to the table and helped me to my seat. As I glanced from one look of disbelief to the next they all curled into brilliant smiles and words of praise. I blushed and thanked, smiled and trembled and finally the conversations resumed one by one. Jean and my mother spoke softly, my father and Philippe also in hushed voices then Gavin turned and we talked about his visit to the vineyards.

While he spoke I realized that we were still waiting for one more place at the table to be filled, "Is Claire not joining us?" I interrupted Gavin.

As if my words were a cue she was suddenly standing in the doorway where I had stood a few short minutes ago and an awestruck silence fell on the room yet again.

## Chapitre Quinze

Gavin rose from his seat, "Ah, there you are Claire!"

My father stood up, too, as well as Jean and Philippe. Gavin stepped toward her but Claire held her hand out to my father instead. "Finally, I have the privilege of meeting your family that I have heard so much about," she said. Her voice, her smile and her eyes were full of mischievous charm.

I couldn't keep myself from staring; she was so beautiful, unnaturally beautiful. Everything around her seemed to suffer by comparison – it was as if she had drained all the beauty out of every nearby object and gathered it all to herself. The light seemed less brilliant, the table dull when a moment ago it shimmered with a glossy polish. Even the flowers in the centerpiece seemed to droop and wither where they stood in their vase.

Claire took my father's hand and he introduced us one by one. When she came to where I sat I stood up and all the confidence and pride my appearance had given me vanished. I felt little and ugly and insignificant. I held my hand out to her but instead of taking it she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a lingering hug before pecking each of my cheeks.

"Your father has done you no justice. Vous êtes très jolie; absolutely stunning," she breathed as she held my shoulders and smiled into my eyes.

I wanted to like her but as she looked me over and studied my features, I distrusted the warmth she greeted me with. It reminded me of... "Philippe," I thought to myself; the way he masked the sinister side of his nature behind his handsome face and elegant manners. She was hiding something, too, I was sure of it, and somehow I knew I needed to be careful and guarded during every moment I spent in her company.

"Merci beaucoup, and thank you so much for the beautiful dress. I've never worn anything so elegant before. I will treasure it always," I said with sincerity then leaned forward and returned her kiss.

"Well, I have kept you from your dinners long enough, shall we begin?" and with a chivalrous hand from my father she took her seat.

He motioned to have the first course served and all the intensity from those first few moments loosened its grip. The relaxed air and ease that preceded Claire's arrival returned to everyone at the table. While the hors d'oeuvres were served, the conversations resumed. Claire became the center of attention turning this way and that to speak with one or the other of my brothers. She even spoke with my mother but more often than anyone else she faced my father and they talked to one another in faint tones.

Watching my mother and seeing the painful expressions playing on her face increased my dislike and distrust of Claire. I wondered why I should care so much after so many years of my mother's disinterest but over the past few days she had been so different; so caring, so affectionate – so motherly. I wanted her to continue being happy and loving and Claire, whether she was aware or not, seemed determined to prevent that from happening.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you say something?" I asked Gavin when I realized he had spoken to me.

"Oui, joli, I'm wondering why you're not eating."

"Haven't I been, though?" I pushed the food on my plate around with the tip of my fork.

He laid his hand on my thigh, "Non, you have not," then he leaned closer and whispered, "what's wrong? Is it Claire?" Gavin gave me a reassuring squeeze and reached for his wine glass. He took a generous sip, "It's just her way, Vivienne, banter, that's all, it means nothing."

"It means something to my mother," I retorted. "Oh!" I gasped. "I'm sorry," I clenched my napkin and twisted it in remorse for my lack of censure.

Gavin sighed, "I'll speak to Claire for you, after dinner."

"Non, non, non, please, I don't want to upset her."

"It will come from me, not from you. I promise. It wouldn't be the first time I have had to reprove her for her...conduct," he said. "We are social creatures and so much of our happiness depends upon the happiness of others. How can I possibly be happy if I know you...and your family," he added, "to be unhappy?"

"I'm not unhappy," Gavin gave me a skeptical look, "but I understand what you're saying. Happiness is the bringer of more happiness and I, too, want my family to be happy."

"Then let me talk to Claire," he insisted.

I smiled and Gavin smiled back. He looked pointedly at my plate and I took what must have been my first taste of the evening's meal.

As dinner progressed Gavin did his best to keep me from noticing Claire. Cook presented the courses one after the other and those were the only times I paid any attention to her. Towards the end of dinner she changed her focus from my father to Philippe. Though they tried to stifle their laughter, I overheard them and turned their way. They had their heads bent toward one another. Philippe looked exceptionally handsome and there was no question how attractive Claire was, either. Seeing them together was doubly striking. I couldn't turn my eyes away even though their behavior made me feel a little ashamed.

Claire saw me watching them and my humiliation at being caught broke the spell. I lowered my eyes and resumed eating. I was embarassed by their lack of propriety and worse, a little jealous that I would never have the courage to behave in such a way.

"Why did you look away Vivienne?" Claire's voice called teasingly across the table.

The question surprised me and I had no idea how to answer so I smiled and sipped my wine to buy a little time. I felt giddy and lightheaded and wondered how many glasses I'd had. It wasn't uncommon to have one with dinner, and I believed I emptied mine more than once. Each time I thought to taper myself, though, my glass seemed full and I decided I mustn't have had as much as I imagined. I felt much less reserved than usual and despite the hard look and gentle shake of the head from Gavin the wine loosened my tongue.

"I'm uncomfortable with the way you are behaving."

"Uncomfortable," she gave a frivolous laugh. "What about my behavior makes you uncomfortable?"

I fully regretted not taking Gavin's subtle hint as the various conversations around the table died down. My heart pounded and I sensed everyone waiting and listening for my response. I looked from Claire to Philippe then back to Claire.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I think it's unbecoming the way you're flirting with my brother and my..."

Gavin cut me off before I could say father, "Vivienne is just not used to your liveliness Claire, and has mistaken its meaning." He sounded like he was asking her forgiveness for what I said.

My face colored, I hadn't mistaken anything but the wine made it difficult for me to articulate a good enough response to justify my accusation. I looked at Gavin and thought about contradicting him but there so much fear in his expression that the will to challenge him suddenly left me. He fixed his eyes on Claire and they seemed to be having a silent argument.

She held herself defiantly, and for a moment I thought Gavin very near to bowing his head and cowering under her scrutiny but her expression changed and softened. She reached across the table and took my hand, "Please don't misunderstand me," she said apologetically. "Gavin is right, it's just my way. I am a woman and I like men and I find no shame in expressing that fact whether through words or actions. It's all in good fun," she glanced at Philippe, my father and even included Jean as she sought for their support.

Each one of them had their own expressions whether acquiescence or wistfulness or careful consideration and they all seemed to agree with her. Then as if to end the discussion she turned her gaze back to me, "A little flirtation is harmless, perhaps even valuable," she said, "if it makes someone happy; after all happiness bring is the bringer of more happiness, is it not?"

My eyes went wide; I couldn't imagine how she might have overheard the conversation Gavin and I had earlier. We spoke so quietly and everyone else had been talking to one another in their own private conversations. I tried to assure myself that it was just a coincidence that Claire used the same phrase I had.

"Claire, please," Gavin came to my defense again.

After a long, drawn out pause, "Oui, enough," she raised her glass, "To happiness," her exclamation clearly directed at me.

"To happiness," I raised my glass to hers.

As the dessert arrived it disrupted everyone's interest in what had just taken place. I looked at the others one by one where they sat around the table. There was no concern, not a hint of anything unusual having occurred. My mother looked contented and relaxed, Jean good-natured and unassuming, my father and Philippe cheerful and satisfied. It was as though it never happened and everyone was still completely charmed with Claire and enjoying her company.

The night lost all its charm for me though and I couldn't wait for dinner to be over. The confrontation sobered me and my initial distrust changed to outright dislike. I vowed to spend as little time with Claire as possible. After I made this resolution, I wondered about Gavin. I didn't understand why but I had the impression he was afraid of his cousin; not the way someone feared an embarrassing moment or the foolish exploits of others but the way a deer fears the wolf.

"Well, my father was right about one thing," I thought to myself, "Claire and Gavin are nothing at all alike."

I shook the idea away and turned back to him. I didn't realize he was looking at me and it caught me off-guard. Despite myself I smiled and felt my cheeks glowing under his admiration. Though I knew it made me a hypocrite a small part of me enjoyed the intensity of his gaze.

"You're beautiful when you blush," I froze in place thinking I heard Gavin's voice like a faint echo in my mind.

"Did you say something?" I asked.

"Hmm, non, joli, I did not," he chuckled and again lowered his voice to less than a whisper, "perhaps you have had a bit too much to drink," he suggested.

I looked at my glass and for the first time since dinner began it was empty. "Perhaps you're right!" I leaned in and laughed with him. I spoke a little louder than I intended and with terrible misgivings for my hypocrisy realized that I had just flirted with Gavin. It was obvious that Claire saw the exchange and the pleasure I took from it. She raised her brows at me and gave me a look that could only be interpreted as I told you so.

She didn't say a word but turned to my mother, "Do you play at all Hélène?"

"Oh, it's been years since I've touched an instrument."

"But much like anything, once you learn, you never forget," Claire stood up. "I'm in the mood for dancing," she took my mother's hand and pulled her away from the table. "I saw your piano in the parlor and now I cannot get the idea out of my mind. Come play for me; play for us," she waved her hand to indicate everyone at the table.

My mother protested but my father spoke over her refusal and further encouraged the idea. Soon Philippe and Jean were on their feet eager to do anything that would please Claire.

Gavin rose from his seat and added his voice to the entreaty, "It would be an honor to have you entertain us Madame Rousseau."

She couldn't resist the pressure of her guests and allowed Claire to lead her away. Gavin polished off his wine as the others trailed after Claire and my mother. He took a deep breath and helped me away from the table. As we entered the parlor I saw that my brothers and father were moving furniture to make room. Gavin released me and hurried over to lend them a hand.

My mother sat down and after tapping out a few rusty bars while everyone watched apologized and said she had long since forgotten all she learned.

"Nonsense," Claire stood behind her and rested her hands on my mother's shoulders. She leaned down, "relax, close your eyes," her voice full of the assurance she wanted my mother to feel. "1-2-3, 1-2-3," Claire whispered and my mother's hands moved, slowly at first then with increasing rapidity. She struck the keys and smiled as a melody unfolded.

Claire spun around and motioned to my father who stepped up and bowed. She took his hands and he whirled her away. Laughing Claire called to Gavin, "Well, what are you waiting for?!"

He cocked his head at me his eyes full of hope. I don't know what came over me. I reached for my skirts and with my head bowed to the floor I did a flamboyant curtsey and accepted his invitation. Gavin took my chin in his fingertips and tilted my face so he could look in my eyes. Smiling I stood up and grasped his hand. Before I knew it we, too, were waltzing alongside Claire and my father from one end of the room to the other.

So many things were affecting me, the wine, the music, the late hour, the surety of Gavin's footwork; it was mesmerizing as song after song rang out. Claire switched from my father to Jean after a dance or two and afterwards turned her attention to Philippe. Then my mother started a new song and the tempo increased time and time again and Gavin moved me faster and faster. Somehow we were parted and though I was still dancing, it was no longer with Gavin but with Philippe.

I looked all over wondering how it happened and noticed Claire near the wall. She had a devious grin and she was holding onto Gavin. I wasn't sure but it looked like he was trying to break away from her and she was holding him fast. I wanted to scream but I was breathless and weary and no matter how determined I was to escape, Philippe wouldn't loosen his grip.

No one seemed to realize anything was wrong. Jean and my father were both smiling and clapping unaware of my distress.

"Please Philippe, please stop!"

He couldn't or wouldn't hear me.

I thought I sensed Gavin's voice again, that faint echo in my mind, "Trip him."

Philippe stumbled and instinctively released his grip and threw his hands down to catch himself as we both fell to the floor. I tried to do the same, but I never landed. Somehow Gavin broke free of Claire and caught me mid tumble.

"Whoa," his expression didn't match his tone. I knew he was angry, heatedly angry, but he spoke in a bright, jovial voice. "You're a little too light on your feet," he said in the same comical voice.

His expression seemed to be encouraging me to do the same. I giggled, "Well, that is a generous way of saying you're clumsy as an ox!"

He helped me up and turned to Philippe to offer him a hand.

"Thank you, but I can manage."

There were looks all around the room, some of concern, some finding the humor in the moment, but the only ones I noticed were those between Claire and Gavin. His seemed to say why would you do this and hers why not?

## Chapitre Seize

Once I recovered and caught my breath, I assured everyone I was fine, just a little tired. I told my family it had been a long day for me and I was ready to call it a night. Though the others protested, Gavin and my mother united and encouraged me to say goodnight. I thanked Claire and Gavin for such an entertaining evening and told them how much I looked forward to seeing them again in the morning. Afterwards I turned and left the parlor.

"Why don't you walk her up to her room, Gavin?" I heard Claire call out as I neared the foyer. "She's obviously exhausted after that last reel. Lend her your arm so she doesn't earn a similar fate climbing the stairs."

"No, no," my mind cried out but a moment later he was at my side. He offered me his arm, "I'm quite alright, Gavin, really."

"Please," he begged.

I relented and together we made our way up the stairs. Neither of us spoke until we reached my room then there was a rather long, awkward silence. I stood looking at my feet, wondering what to say. Though I didn't want to believe it, something happened between us. His voice at dinner, then during the dancing; I couldn't have imagined the same thing twice and so distinctly each time.

I wanted to ask him about it and lifted my head up, "Gavin?"

He looked different, not at all like he had a few minutes ago. My father's original description came to mind; pasty, washed-out, hair like straw. Gavin looked fatigued, disheveled and even somewhat frightening. He must have seen the brief look of surprise that flashed in my eyes.

"I'm sorry, Vivienne," he said, "I'm sorry for everything that went so poorly this evening."

"Oh, that voice!" I gasped. He spoke in that anxious, desperate voice that had been plaguing me from the previous night. "It was you!" I said stunned.

"Non, non," he whispered and moved towards me. He tucked me under his chin, "Ssh, ssh, don't remember, please don't remember."

My eyelids grew heavy, my legs weakened and my breathing relaxed. A minute ticked by, two minutes; I couldn't move or think clearly. That hazy veil wrapped itself around my mind again and my memories faded. Gavin stepped back. He took my face in his hands and my eyes fell closed. Then he pressed lips against mine and, oh, there was something in his kiss. It tasted like...but before I could decide what it was, I fell into oblivion; a deep, resounding sleep.

The next morning I woke up before anyone else. It didn't surprise me since I remembered saying goodnight to everyone and I imagined I went to bed long before they did. After dressing and arranging my hair I went downstairs. The house seemed empty and quiet as I wound my way through the dining room and into the kitchen. Cook was busy in the pantry tallying up his stores but other than that there were no signs of breakfast being prepared.

I was terribly hungry, and thirsty, and decided I'd rather not wait and eat with everyone else. I helped myself to some bread and cheese and fruit.

"There is coffee, Mademoiselle," Cook nodded toward the pot, "if you would pour me a cup, too."

I poured two mugs and left his on the edge of the table as I sat down and devoured what I was able to scrape together for a meal. When he finished taking his inventory Cook surveyed my scanty breakfast and offered to make me something more substantial. I thanked him and gulped down the last of my coffee before refilling my mug with water and draining that off, too.

"Too much of the fine wine your father brought up from the cellars, n'est ce pas?"

I rolled my eyes, "Oui, I must have. I can't remember anything after climbing into bed last night!"

Cook chuckled, "Well, at least the wine didn't go to waste. Your guests must have very peculiar palates; they hardly tasted anything I prepared for them. And to think, Mr. Delacroix made such a special request for his cousins dinner," his voice was full of offense.

I hadn't noticed it at the time but now that I thought about it I didn't remember seeing Gavin or Claire eating anything at all. I tried to envision our meal and pictured Gavin with his silverware poised. He took forkfuls of food and his knife swayed as he sliced his meat. Everything seemed accurate but I couldn't seem to recall a bite ever passing his lips.

"Huh," I frowned. I wondered if what I was envisioning had actually happened or if Cook put the idea in my head and my mind was running away with it.

It looked like a beautiful day outside so when I finished the plate Cook made for me I checked the time. It seemed early enough, so I decided to chance taking an hour to myself that morning.

"Cook?"

"Oui, Mademoiselle?"

"I'd like to get some fresh air. If anyone asks if you have seen me would you tell them I have gone to visit Isolde and I'll be back soon?"

"Of course," he gave me a sly glance. "She wouldn't happen to be with the handsome boy who left the recipe yesterday?"

"Non, non...Gabriel is just...he's the stable boy and we're friends. Isolde is with Deaglan the boy who raised her."

"Ah, I see..." but he didn't sound convinced.

Rather than argue I thanked him for breakfast and for delivering my message. I left through the kitchen and raced down the path until I was sure I was out of view then slackened my pace. It was late, so I was sure I would find Gabriel hard at work. I passed his house and continued on toward the barn.

As I approached a gravelly rumble erupted from the doorway and when I looked up, I saw Trista and Isolde bolting toward me.

"Oh, I've missed you!!" I bent down and hugged them both together, one on each shoulder.

Deaglan and Gabriel came to see what the commotion was all about and the dogs, wild with excitement bounded toward them. After circling them where they stood Trista and Isolde raced back and demanded more hugs and kisses. Deaglan laughed out loud but Gabriel hurried over to take part in the affectionate exchange. He muscled the dogs out of the way and wrapped himself around me.

"Save some of that for me," he chided and I obligingly covered him with kisses. "I didn't expect to see you today. How did you get away?"

"Everyone is still sleeping and I couldn't resist. Oh, Gabriel, I love you so much. I can't tell you what it has been like. My mother and my father; they keep throwing us together! I kept wishing it were you by my side and dancing with me after dinner!"

"Dancing? You were dancing?" he sounded surprised and even a little jealous.

I took his hand and led him into the barn, "Come, I'll tell you everything!"

We all went up to the loft. Gabriel and I sat down on a bale together and Deaglan sat on one across from us. I told them all about Gavin and Claire; what they were like and how we spent our time together. Gabriel listened quietly and near expressionless but Deaglan's face was a whirlwind of emotion. He seemed eager to hear everything I had to say. The only thing I left off was the one thing I had forgotten; when Gavin walked me to my room at the end of the night.

After I finished they both sat reflecting on everything I said. Gabriel's silence made me realize how upsetting it was for him to imagine me with someone else. Deaglan had an odd expression, too, and when I saw it, it made me wish I hadn't told them quite so much.

"They sound like interesting people," he said but there was little sincerity in his tone. Gabriel frowned at him but Deaglan stood up suggesting that he had nothing more to say; at least in front of me. "We should get back to work."

I looked away, "Oui, I should go, too, before I'm missed."

Gabriel led me down from the loft and hugged and kissed me goodbye, "Has your father said anything to you?"

I shook my head, "Non, not yet."

"When will you talk to him?" he wasn't angry, just disappointed that it hadn't happened yet.

"Soon; as soon as I can find a moment alone with him, I promise." I squeezed him one last time and said goodbye to Deaglan, Trista and Isolde.

When I got back to the house my mother, father and Philippe were the only ones that had gotten up since I left. They were breakfasting in the dining room and called out when I closed the front door.

"Vivienne, is that you?"

"Oui, Papa."

"Where have you been?" he asked as I kissed my mother's cheek and said good morning to her and Philippe.

"I went to see Isolde. I left a message with Cook so you wouldn't worry."

"We talked about this already, Vivienne, I want you here at home. You are as much responsible for entertaining our guests as any of us."

"Oui, Papa, I was only gone a short while."

"Enough," he said closing the topic, "Have you eaten?"

"Oui."

"Well, sit with us anyway, and tell us how much you enjoyed your evening."

"It was very nice, Papa," I took a seat at the table.

"And Claire? Is she everything you imagined she would be?"

There was so much I wanted to say, and so much that I knew I couldn't or shouldn't. I tried editing parts of what I just told Gabriel and Deaglan but kept getting tongue-tied.

My father shook his head in exasperation, "You're so reserved, Vivienne. You venture nothing other than what common courtesy would demand."

"I'm sorry Papa, but I have only just met Mr. and Mademoiselle Delacroix and I'm not familiar enough with either to say much more."

"Humph," my father groaned and sipped his coffee.

"Has Jean come down yet?"

The question took my father by surprise, "He...he's not feeling well and won't be joining us this morning."

It was odd the way he said it and I looked at my mother hoping for more of an explanation. She seemed hesitant to meet my eye and Philippe was busy eating breakfast so it would have been no use to ply him for information. It made me very uneasy, wondering about Jean, and I didn't understand why I was the only one who seemed concerned. I turned back to my father and opened my mouth to speak but he cut me off.

"Weren't you and Jean supposed to take Gavin to the cellars today?" he asked Philippe.

"Oui, but surely he'll forgive us since Jean isn't well."

"There's no need to put it off for Jean, Vivienne can go instead."

"But I don't know anything about the cellars," I interjected.

"Well, then you and Gavin will both learn something today," his expression dared me to challenge him but I didn't have the courage.

"Oui, Papa. I'll get changed. Would you send somebody to let me when they are ready?"

He nodded and excused me. I sulked up the stairs and rather than going straight to my room I paused by Jean's door. I was still angry with him for wavering his support of my love for Gabriel but his sudden illness concerned me. He had been the picture of health at dinner the previous night and I couldn't imagine what he might have come down with.

I knocked lightly so I wouldn't disturb him if he was asleep. I heard him say, "Come in," through the closed door so I eased it halfway open and edged myself inside before pulling it shut. "Vivienne," he gave me a weak smile when he realized who it was, "I'm surprised to see you," he sounded guilty.

"How are you feeling?" I asked as I moved closer to where he lay.

"Ugh," he moaned, "I'm not sure what's wrong with me. I feel so weak and empty. I tried to sit up this morning and could barely move. My body feels like a giant bruise if that makes any sense."

I tried to imagine what he meant; it sounded very unpleasant. "Have you been sick at all?"

"Non, but I'm terribly thirsty. Would you pour me another glass of water?"

I did and held it to his lips. When my fingers brushed his cheek I noticed how cold, and colorless it was. After he drained the glass, he flopped back down and closed his eyes.

"Why are you so good to me, Viv? After all I have done to make you unhappy."

"I don't know," I laughed trying to make light of the moment.

"I'm sorry. You must be so disappointed in me. I promised I would help you and..." he sighed without saying his name. "I thought it was for the best, though, I only thought about what would be best for you."

My reply was a little heated, "I should get to decide what is best for me; not you, not Papa, not anybody!"

He squirmed, "Je sais, Viv. I know. But try to understand. Gabriel is a stable boy, Gabriel will always be a stable boy. You are a gentleman's daughter; you have no idea how to be anything else. You know how to walk and talk and dress. Try to imagine how hard it would be to degrade yourself to Gabriel's level. There are so many things you would have to sacrifice. Gavin could have given you a better life."

"I don't care!" I shook my head angrily, "I would give up anything, sacrifice anything for him. I love Gabriel and I will never love anyone else."

"Why do you think I said could have? I don't want you to marry Gavin, I don't want you to be unhappy. Truly, I don't! When I learned of Papa's plan though, I got caught up in everything he said, everything he believed. He made it sound as though you would have an unimaginable life together - that Gavin would give you everything you ever wanted. That you would travel the world and live in such splendor and never want for anything. When I imagined you with Gabriel, living in one of the farmhouses, mucking stalls or slopping pigs or whatever other menial task was at hand...I couldn't bear it. I thought it was my duty to support Papa's decision; that if anyone could convince you to marry Gavin, it would be me."

He was confusing me and I wasn't sure what he was trying to say. "I will never marry Gavin!"

"You shouldn't."

"Huh?"

"There is something...something...not right about him and Claire, too. I don't trust them. Everything about them is duplicitous." I was dumbfounded and didn't know what to say. "I will support you, Viv. When you turn down Gavin's engagement, I will support you." I tried to speak but no words would come out. "We can talk more later, when I'm feeling better. We'll go somewhere together, just you and I and we will figure this all out!"

"Jean?" I sobbed.

"Don't cry, Viv, please, don't cry," he smiled and when he did, I realized our brief conversation had exhausted him. I looked down and saw his fingers trembling on top of the covers. Though I didn't believe it was possible, he looked even more pallid than he had when I first came in.

"I love you, Jean. Get some rest." I bent down and kissed his forehead.

I tucked his hands under the blankets and pulled them up to his chin. When I did I glimpsed something very similar to the marks I had so often seen on my father. I tried to ask Jean about them, but he was so tired he had drifted off while I tucked him in. He looked so relaxed and peaceful that I checked my desire to wake and question him. I watched him rest for a moment then kissed his cheek and quietly stole away.

## Chapitre Dix-Sept

I went to my room and got my riding habit out for our trip to the cellars. As I held it up to inspect, it someone knocked at my door. When I opened it I found Claire standing there smiling, "Good Morning, Vivienne. May I come in?"

I was reluctant but welcomed her anyway, "Of course. It's good to see you."

She held a small travelling case which she placed on my bed before wandering around my room and taking it all in. "When your father told me your room was in the attic, I thought it would be cold, dusty and dreary. It's not that at all is it?"

"Non, it used to be our nursery when we were all little. Papa had extra windows put in to give it some warmth and light."

"It's lovely. Oh, here," she strode back to the bed and opened the case. She reached in and pulled out a pair of breeches and a soft linen top. "I thought you might wear these today. I met your mother and father as they finished their breakfast and they told me you were riding to the cellars with Gavin and Philippe this afternoon."

"Oh, no, I couldn't. It just wouldn't be right. Besides you're so much taller than I am. I'm sure they won't fit."

"Nonsense, you can cuff them if you must and cinch the waist. Trust me, they will be infinitely more comfortable than that," she scoffed at my habit.

I eyed the pants and top, "I don't know..."

She pointed, "Your father has seen me a dozen times in that very outfit. If he should say anything tell him I lent them to you and insisted you wear them. At least try them on, Vivienne, for me."

"You must," an inner voice persisted.

"I suppose there's no harm in trying them."

"Well go on then." Claire encouraged but didn't offer to leave.

I stood gazing at her expectantly.

"Oh, really," she laughed, "I knew you were shy, but a prude as well?!" her words stung and my face glowed with shame. "I want you to show them to me once they're on," she called as she snatched her case off the bed and left me to myself.

It took me a minute or two to figure out how to wear the pants. I had never worn breeches and at first I put them on backwards. Then I turned them around and though I had them on correctly decided I had been right the first time and switched them again. They still didn't feel quite right. I wiggled out of them and when I held them up I realized how they should be worn and slipped them on. It seemed odd, being able to move so freely. The pants were almost weightless compared to my habit and I found wearing them quite liberating.

I tried the top and after tucking it in used an old scarf to cinch the waistline as Claire suggested. The shirt was too big and left an ample opening above my breasts. It was too deep for me to feel comfortable with, so I used a broach and pinned the neckline closed. I thought about cuffing the pants but realized I could just tuck them into my boots to keep them from tripping me up.

Once I finished dressing I let Claire back in.

"Oh, aren't you adorable?! How do you like them? Are you comfortable?"

"Oui," I brushed the folds from the front of the pants, "they're very comfortable; unlike anything I've ever worn before."

Claire smiled, "Ah, thank goodness! There is hope for you yet," she affectionately kissed my cheeks.

When she pulled back Philippe was standing in the doorway. He rapped on the threshold once or twice to announce himself then stepped into my room.

"Are you ready?" he sounded aggravated, upset perhaps that he was the one Papa sent to the attic to let me know they were ready to leave. His irritated tone vanished and he laughed out loud when he saw me and what I wore. "You can't be serious! You're not planning on going out like that are you?"

I almost cried from shame and turned several shades of red but Claire came to my defense. I had never heard a woman speak so violently to a man. Philippe cowered under her verbal assault. When she finished insulting him Philippe apologized and at Claire's behest looked me over again. He admitted he didn't often see me in anything other than my every day clothes and he thought I looked rather chic in Claire's outfit.

The compliment relieved me but only for a moment.

"It certainly shows off your figure," Philippe teased and my uneasiness returned with a vengeance.

"Perhaps it's too unbecoming for me," I stuttered, "I should change."

"Non," Claire shook her head, "you should learn to appreciate yourself and your appearance. It's only a small step, going out as you are, but it will help you feel better about yourself and make you more confident. I promise."

Then Philippe added, "It's too late to change, anyway. Gavin is out front waiting with the horses."

I looked from Philippe to Claire, who handed me a pair of riding gloves and gave in to their insistence. The three of us went downstairs to the foyer. Gavin had joined my mother and father. They stood at the foot of the stairs waiting for us. My parents looked somewhat surprised when they saw me but didn't say anything.

"It seems Claire has been making you over," Gavin chuckled. He took my hands and spread my arms wide. "You look like a true horsewoman!"

"Thank you," I smiled at his praise. Somehow his support unburdened me from all my worry and I wondered how he always said the right thing to lift my spirits.

My mother and father waved us on our way and wished us a good ride. Gavin bowed to each and held the door for me and Philippe before stepping out behind us. The horses stood tethered to the porch and Philippe took his reins while Gavin loosened my mare. He led her a few paces away and waved me over.

"Would you like a boost or dressed as you are, I bet you could swing yourself up," he raised his brows at me.

I grinned and reached for the horn before hoisting myself into the saddle. It was effortless and the difference amazed me. Gavin adjusted the stirrups and once I took the reins all my apprehension vanished; I couldn't wait to be on the move. He mounted and brought his horse in line with mine then called to Philippe to lead the way.

Gavin and I followed as Philippe took us on almost the same route Gabriel's father and I once walked. I remembered many of the things Mr. Bergeron and I talked about and shared them with Gavin along the way. Philippe didn't enjoy being left out and after a few minutes dropped back to join us. He tried to contribute to the conversation but Philippe was brutally ignorant of not only the vineyard's current events but its history, too.

Seeing Philippe struggle made me feel very superior and it put me in a good mood. He sensed his ignorance and grew frustrated and impatient to be done with his duty. Philippe's bruised ego set a swift pace for us. It should have been a 30-minute ride to the cellars but we reached them in a little over 20.

When we arrived a worker greeted us and offered to take our horses after we dismounted. He led them away and the cellar master came forward to introduce himself. After a short explanation of the cellars and their purposes he showed us into the one we were closest to. Philippe opted to skip the tour and instead he found a bit of shade where he could stretch himself out to rest and nurse his pride.

It took several minutes for my eyes to adjust and having never been to the cellars before I eagerly looked all around at the meticulous rows of casks. The cellar wasn't very tall, perhaps 7 or 8 feet at its greatest height and shaped more like an arching tunnel than a cellar. Each barrel sat about a foot off the floor and less than an inch apart from one another. They lined the walls and rested on platforms that ran the entire length of the cellar.

The casks had various marks on them that included a vintage year, variety of the wine and our family crest. There was also the mark of the vintner responsible for making the wine itself. Some of the barrels had rolls of parchment tacked to them with historical notes about the weather, soil conditions and so forth. One note even mentioned that there were an exceptional number of bees that year. The harvest ended up being so many tons more than it had in previous years because of all the extra vines they pollinated. The cellar master told us that every environmental concern can not only affect the amount of grapes harvested but also the flavor the grapes will produce as well.

Gavin asked dozens of questions and seemed fascinated by everything the master had to tell us. Eventually our lesson required us to head back out and to a second nearby cellar where some of the bottling took place. This cellar looked similar to the first except wider and taller. These casks sat higher and they had taps hammered into their faces. In front of each of the barrels a worker perched on a stool with cases of bottles at their heels.

They were like little automatons; taking a bottle, bringing it to the tap, pulling the tap, filling the bottle, putting the bottle back in the case. When the case was full, another worker whisked it away to have the bottles corked and labeled. Though they weren't in exact sync, it was dizzying watching them all work, doing the same jobs at different times up and down the length of the cellar. Their precision amazed me. I never saw a drop fall, and to my eye it looked as though they filled every bottle to exactly the same level as the last.

It was so mesmerizing that Gavin had to nudge me when he and the cellar master finished talking. I missed most of the conversation between them but was sure I learned a great deal, nonetheless. Gavin thanked the master for his time and patience then complimented him on his knowledge and skill before inquiring after our horses.

Philippe joined us as we reclaimed our mounts and together the three of us set off on our way back home. We had been so busy talking the entire way to the cellars I had forgotten to take advantage of Claire's riding clothes. When we came to the crossroads between the vineyard and the cellars I noticed a fallen tree off to the side. I urged my horse to a hearty canter and smiling leapt over the obstacle.

"You're enjoying your newfound mobility I see!" Gavin beamed as he trotted up beside me. "How would you like to give it a real test..." he challenged and tossed a look at Philippe to see if he was game.

Philippe shrugged and before I knew it, the three of us were racing towards the stables. I can't imagine what came over me, but I crouched down and gripped the reins and my head seemed full of a determination I had never experienced. Gavin was a few strides ahead of me and Philippe several more. He continued to draw further away from us as I pulled level with Gavin.

"Use your heels!" he called.

I gave a gentle but insistent kick and my mare responded with a furious burst that had me gaining on Philippe. He looked back expecting to find Gavin as the one closing the distance and the good-humored expression he wore faded into downright disbelief when he realized it was me. He whipped his horse and sped up but my mare was just as determined as I was and she doubled her efforts.

We caught up and every stride brought us a little further and a little further ahead. The stables came into view so I gave my mare another nudge with my heels. That was the last I saw of Philippe or Gavin until I reined her in at the barn. I patted her neck and cooed to her letting her know how proud I was of her. Philippe pulled up and a few moments later Gavin. I hopped off and walked her in circles to cool her down while I smiled with delight and looked their way.

Gavin was astounded but when I saw Philippe's expression I realized I made a terrible mistake by beating him. He masked his shame along with his violent though carefully concealed anger.

All the commotion brought Gabriel to the barn doorway. After the excitement of winning the race, it slipped my mind that he would be there. Now I was not only distraught and worried for upsetting Philippe but mortified for letting Gabriel see me with Gavin.

"What's all this?" he said concealing his emotions as he smiled at each of us.

Gavin took the initiative and answered, "Vivienne, here, was just giving a lesson in horsemanship to her brother!" he laughed.

Philippe flushed with humiliation for a moment. As soon as he mastered it, though, he replied with gleeful vindictiveness, "More like I was letting Vivienne show off for her fiancé!" He clapped Gavin on the shoulder with brotherly affection.

My heart fell to my feet.

Gabriel came and stood in front of me, "Congratulations, Ms. Rousseau. I didn't know you were to be married!" he grinned but I could sense the heartbreak in his eyes.

Gavin watched us closely. I looked over Gabriel's shoulder to where he stood. His expression was impossible to read. "We are planning to announce it tonight over dinner," he stepped forward. "Why don't you join us; such happy news shouldn't be constrained to just a handful of souls. Come and help us celebrate this joyous occasion."

"Yes," I took Gabriel's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Then I looked him full in the eye, so he would understand the true meaning when I said, "Please join us so we can make our engagement known!"

## Chapitre Dix-Huit

Gabriel approached Gavin and took his hand as he accepted the invitation. While I stood there, I looked over the expressions of the three men. Philippe seemed smug and gratified that he was able to avenge his humiliation so quickly. Gabriel, looked thoughtful and contemplative as if he was assessing Gavin while they introduced themselves. And Gavin, he appeared good-natured and friendly; completely naïve to what had just taken place.

When it was time to leave Gabriel saw us to the doorway and watched as we rounded the barn and made our way up the path towards home. Philippe got between Gavin and I while we walked so I was on the left of the path, Philippe in the middle and Gavin on the right. He spoke excitedly and was telling Gavin what little he knew about Gabriel and his family.

A thousand times I wanted to interject and correct something he said or to stand up for Gabriel when Philippe said something demeaning or false about him. If I did, though, it would expose the intimacy with which I knew him. Everything Philippe said made me more and more uncomfortable. He glanced at me from time to time expecting me to contradict him but when I didn't his falsehoods grew bolder and further and further from the truth.

By the time we got home I was flushed and full of anger. When we walked through the doorway and entered the foyer I told Gavin how much the afternoon's exercise had wearied me. I apologized and said I wanted to lie down for an hour or so before dinner and thanked him for his company. Before he could reply I started up the stairs and realized I hadn't spoken too far from the truth. I stumbled after a step or two and the world appeared to swim before my eyes. I almost fainted as I grasped for the railing to steady myself then abruptly sat down to clear my head.

"Vivienne? Vivienne?" Gavin seized my hand, "What's wrong?"

"I...I don't know...I just feel a little dizzy and weak." My stomach was roiling, too, but I fought to keep that to myself.

"Philippe, get your mother!" Gavin swept me up from where I sat and carried me away. "Tell her Vivienne is unwell and send her to her room," he called over his shoulder as we neared the second floor. I barely realized what was happening. Soon we were in the attic and Gavin was arranging me on my bed.

He sat beside me and took my hand in his then stroked the inside of my arm from wrist to elbow. It was very soothing and though I tried to stay focused, my eyes closed and I breathed a tremendous sigh of relief. Several minutes passed but my mother didn't come.

"What is taking so long?!" Gavin stood up with a little burst of anger and cursed. He checked himself, kissed my temple and whispered, "I'll be right back."

I listened to him taking the steps from my room two at a time and closed my eyes as soon as he left. Gavin went straight to Philippe's room and found him stretched out on his bed. He was dozing, seemingly without a care in the world.

"Where is your mother? Did you tell her about Vivienne?"

"Oh," Philippe pushed himself up on his elbows, "I wasn't able to find her. Maybe she's walking in the gardens with Claire and my father."

"What?!"

"They're not here; I couldn't find them," Philippe said completely unconcerned.

Gavin leapt towards him and seizing him by the throat lifted Philippe off his bed. He shook him and demanded, "Did you even bother to try?!"

Philippe was too afraid to speak and his silence intensified Gavin's anger. With demonic determination he brought Philippe's neck to his lips.

"Gavin!" Claire's voice boomed from the doorway.

He loosened his grip and Philippe fell back onto his bed; the wounds Gavin created weeping down his neck. Their voices brought Jean to the doorway and Claire, forced to react, grabbed his hand and pulled him into the room while thrusting the door closed behind him. Jean tried to question what had happened but lost his voice as he viewed the horrific scene and stumbled backwards.

"Damn it, Gavin! What have you done?" Claire turned Jean away as he stood awestruck in the paralysis of his fear and disbelief.

Gavin buried his face in his hands and told Claire everything that had happened and why he lost control of his emotions. He surveyed the situation and apologized for what he had done. Full of frustration Claire shoved Jean to the bed then turned to Gavin and struck him full across the face.

"You idiot!" she screamed. "How could you be so careless after all our planning?!"

"I'm sorry," Gavin was near to weeping with regret.

"Where's Vivienne?"

"In her room."

"I'll see to her," she whirled to leave. "Fix this!" she waved her hand over her head as if to signify everything and left closing the door behind her.

Jean was still sitting dumbfounded on the bed. Gavin took a nearby glass and smashed it on the nightstand. He drew one of the sharp edges across his wrist and pressed the open wound to Jean's lips.

He fought against it but Gavin held him fast and a moment later Jean sighed and submitted to Gavin's will.

"Close your eyes."

"Oui."

Gavin leaned in close and whispered a new version of events into Jean's ear. He put his hands one on each side of Jean's head and looked him full in the eye, "You will remember what I told you."

"I will remember," Jean assured.

"Go to your room and get ready for dinner."

Jean stood up and left eager to follow Gavin's instructions.

Philippe stirred and Gavin turned his attention back to him. He stood up and paced the floor once or twice. Gavin knew Claire expected him to handle Philippe the same way but Gavin was undecided as his emotions warred within him.

"You know what I am, Philippe, you've seen what we are, Claire and I?"

Philippe nodded.

"I would kill you now if I could. Give me one good reason I shouldn't!" Gavin said as he watched the uneasy expressions reflecting in Philippe's eyes. "This isn't the first time I've thought about it. I don't like you and would thoroughly enjoy every moment," he said. "I need her, though! She is someone I can trust, someone who will do the things that I cannot! I need Vivienne and her innocence. I..." Gavin paused and with reluctance added, "I love her and I will not have her think me a monster! If she ever found out..." Gavin ground his teeth in frustration. "Your father promised me Vivienne, and Claire made promises to him in return. You are his son and he wants you here when he's gone. It's nothing more than that and your good fortune keeping you alive. Cross me again, though, and I won't hesitate!"

Philippe trembled, "Oui."

"I'm glad we understand one another."

Gavin swiped a finger across the cut on his wrist and smoothed it over the wounds on Philippe's neck, "Clean yourself up and get dressed for dinner."

I had nearly fallen asleep by the time Claire reached my room; "Vivienne?" she came and sat on the edge of my bed. She swept the hair from my eyes, "Oh, darling," she soothed, "you're not feeling well, are you?" Grasping my hand she brushed a kiss across my knuckles.

My stomach turned again, "I want my mother," I mumbled.

"Of course you do. She will come as soon as she can, Vivienne, but until she does, would you tell me what's wrong?"

I shook my head no. Claire tried insisting but one of the servants came into the room and distracted us both. She carried a glass of wine and handed it to Claire.

"Thank you," she said and nodded a dismissal to the servant. "Try a sip."

"No...no thank you. I just want to rest, really." I insisted.

"Here, I'll put a little water in it so it's not so strong."

I rolled away from her as Claire moved toward my pitcher. She picked it up and put it back down without pouring so much as a drop into the wine. With her back to me she instead made a tiny gnash on her fingertip and squeezed a few drops of blood into the glass. She swirled the liquid around then came back and helped me to sitting.

"Just a sip, Vivienne, I promise it will do you good," she smiled and held the glass to my lips.

I didn't even realize what I was doing and gulped the wine down. It reminded me of something...of...of Gavin's kiss. The wine was icy cold as it slid across my tongue and down my throat. But the ice turned to fire inside me and I fretfully raised my eyes from the glass and met Claire's.

She was still smiling but then her expression changed to deep concern. I leaned over the edge of the bed and retched onto the floor at her feet. I watched with incredulity as the wine splattered all over the wood and onto the hem of her dress.

"Non, non," she cradled me to her chest, "oh, non, how can this be?" she exclaimed.

I pulled back full of worry and wonder and looked at Claire.

"I know what's wrong with you, Vivienne...you're...you're pregnant."

Her words didn't register.

She said it again, "You are pregnant! How can you possibly be pregnant? Who...who...your father said you were... Good Lord! Who did this to you?"

"I'm pregnant?!" It was impossible to hide my joy. It was the most incredible news. Suddenly all the weariness lifted from my shoulders.

"You seem happy to learn this; this wasn't a mistake?" Claire looked me over.

I smiled, "No, we're in love and we're going to be married and, oh, I can't wait to tell him at dinner tonight."

Claire shook her head, utterly confused, "Gavin cannot have children," she blurted out.

"Gavin?! It's not Gavin's baby! I could never have...!" I stopped before I said anything too unkind.

"Dear God what are you saying?" Claire stood up and demanded an explanation.

There was nothing for it; I had to tell her, everything, right from the beginning. Claire sat back down on the edge of my bed and listened while I made my confession. She was quiet and patient, though at times she stood up and paced the floor, listening, but deep in her own thoughts as well. When I finished speaking she was angry and disappointed to have heard what I told her.

But then she took my hands and helped me from my bed. She embraced me and kissed my cheeks, "I will help you Vivienne. I don't want to but what else can I do. I need time to think." Claire paused, "I have so much to think about. All our plans..." she sighed. "I'll send someone to take care of this for you," she motioned to the wine and hurried from the room.

I put my hands over my belly and smiled with delight. Next to Gabriel nothing had ever made me happier. The idea of having a baby, his baby, our baby. I hoped it would be a girl and we would give her a life completely different from the one I had lived. I would care for her the way my mother had never cared for me. She would never know what it was like to have brothers like Jean and Philippe and her father would always be there to love and comfort her. We would be so happy together! Just the three of us until we could give her a brother or sister.

A servant came in and interrupted my reverie. She cleaned up the mess I made and opened a window to let some air in. As she was leaving Gavin came to the doorway, "Is Claire here?"

He startled me and I whirled around, "Non, she left a little while ago. I thought she may have gone to see you."

"Hmm, non, she did not, and she's not in our room. You look like you're feeling better. May I come in?"

I wanted very much to say no but I was too nervous to speak and nodded instead.

"I've been so worried," he whispered as he came and took each of my hands in his. "Vivienne," his voice tugged at my insides, "none of this has gone at all the way I wanted it to." He looked at the bed, "Let's sit for a moment; there is so much I would like to say."

He drew me toward the bed and had me sit down beside him. I stared straight ahead toward the opposite end of the room reluctant to engage him in whatever conversation he thought we needed to have.

"Please, Vivienne, please look at me."

I glanced up and he looked so pitiful and helpless that I relented and turned towards him.

"Thank you. I'm sorry for this afternoon; I am sorry for what Philippe did. You weren't completely unaware, though, were you? You must have known or suspected at the very least, what your father intended."

"Oui," I nodded.

"I know you don't want to marry me. I know that you do not love me and that you are in love with someone else."

My eyes flooded with tears.

"I know you're carrying his child, too."

He saw the look of shock and distress on my features.

"I don't care that you're pregnant with another man's baby...actually I'm very happy for you. It makes me more determined than ever to marry you. I cannot father a child, Vivienne, but I can be a father...I can be a father to your child."

Tears streamed down my cheeks, "Non, I will not marry you." I assured him.

"Yes, you will, Vivienne. Of course you will."

"Non," I insisted.

"And we will move to America and we will raise the baby together. I never wanted this!" he said strongly, "I never wanted any of this," he motioned to himself but I didn't understand what he was suggesting by doing so. "God cheated me out of the life I was meant to live and I intend to take it back! You are going to help me reclaim it!"

"Non," I said again, more vehemently this time.

"Yes, Vivienne, yes. I did not want to force this on you. When I came here, I told myself that I wouldn't force you; that you would fall in love with me and we would get married and live happily ever after. Your father assured me you were untouched; that there was no one, there was no possibility of you falling for anyone else. I...we...Claire and I made him promises that cannot be broken. You will marry me and I will make you happy, Vivienne and I must do whatever I can to ensure that. I'm sorry," he whispered.

Gavin seized me and before I could react his lips were against my neck, his teeth pierced my flesh and there was a desperate pull on my insides. It felt like my soul was rushing out of me to join with his. Our lives became entangled and it seemed like we were no longer two separate beings but one. My blood, my breath, my thoughts were all being bound up and tied to Gavin. Then suddenly he pulled back and fiercely opened a vein on his arm and held it to mouth.

"Take it!" he demanded, "Take it now."

My mind refused but my body would not obey my command. Gavin's blood flowed and ebbed into me. I felt his life searching for mine as it wove us more and more inextricably together.

"Enough," he wrenched his arm away, "you mustn't take too much! It's too soon...too soon," he sighed. I thought he mumbled "after the baby," but I wasn't sure. He pulled me to his chest and kissed the top of my head. I was crying, and sobbing, for so many reasons, none of which I could put into words. "Ssh, ssh... It will be alright now. We're together now, always together. I love you, Vivienne. Do you love me?"

"Yes, Gavin, I love you," I looked up and smiled through my tears. He tilted my chin and kissed me so passionately it took my breath away.

## Chapitre Dix-Neuf

"I'll find Claire and have her come help you get ready for dinner. Make sure you tell her not to lace you too tightly. It's not good for either of you," Gavin stroked my belly. "You mustn't tell anyone, Vivienne, about the baby, not until we are married, comprendre?"

"Je sais."

"Bien," he said, his expression very solemn yet full of hope. He gave me a light kiss then I watched him go.

I felt oddly out of sorts after Gavin left. I sensed that something profound had happened and though I tried to recall what it was, I couldn't. The images were so distorted that I couldn't puzzle any of them out. All I remembered was that Gavin told me he loved me and when I heard him say those words, I discovered that I loved him, too.

"Then he kissed me. Oh, his kiss!" I pictured him in my mind; the pressure of his lips against mine, the skipping beat of my heart, the fluttering in my stomach. I had a wistful desire for it to have been so much more than a kiss. I imagined him undressing me and the caress of his fingertips as they explored my figure. "Oh, Gavin," I whispered.

I stood up and shook my head, trying to free it from all its indecorous ideas. It was getting late and I realized I would be called down to dinner soon. Claire hadn't come yet and I was reluctant to try getting dressed on my own. If it were any other day I would wear one of my simple gowns and ready myself. Gavin was announcing our engagement, though, and we were having a formal dinner. I wanted to look my best.

I shimmied out of Claire's riding clothes and after bathing myself I rummaged through my collection of dresses putting one or two aside. As I turned back to give them a second looking over, my mother knocked on my door, "Vivienne?"

"Oui, Mama, I'm here."

She came into the room carrying one of her own gowns which she had slung over her arm. "Gavin said you were having trouble finding a dress for tonight and thought I might be able to help." When she said it I realized that Gavin must not have been able to find Claire and that he sent my mother instead. "I haven't been able to wear this for years but it was a favorite of mine when I was younger and I couldn't bear to part with it." My mother pinned the dress to my shoulders with her fingers and did a quick check for the fit. "I think it may be just about right," she smiled, "would you like to try it on?"

"Oui, Mama," I ran my fingers over the fabric. "I would like that very much," I answered with sincerity.

It was quite a pretty dress; covering my figure well but being subtly suggestive at the same time. The top half fit snugly through the bust line down to where it rested on my hips. From my hips it fell in cascades of lace and ruffles in a straight line to the tips of my ankles. The dress was deep navy in color and the lace that accented the sleeves, neckline and front of the gown was a soft ivory.

My mother knelt down and held the dress for me as I stepped into it. She eased it up and over my shoulders then laced the back together. "Is that too tight, dear?"

I took a deep breath, "No, Mama, I think it's fine." I lifted my hands over my head and gave a little twirl, "What do you think?"

"You look beautiful darling; perhaps a little pale, but we can fix that." My mother pinched my cheeks and smoothed my brows. "I never realized how pretty you were, Vivienne. I'm so ashamed of myself for never seeing it. Any other mother would burst with pride to call you Daughter," there was sincere regret in her voice and I saw some tears standing in her eyes.

I couldn't think of anything to say in reply so instead I opened my arms and hugged her close, "I love you, Mama. Thank you so much for the dress," I kissed her cheeks.

"I'll send Monique to do your hair," she turned to leave.

"Would you do it for me, Mama?" I reached for her hand.

She understood the meaning behind my question and knew I had said it more to please her than for any other reason. I grinned as she turned back and tugged her towards my vanity. My mother brushed out my hair and put a deep part in it which she swept from right to left. Afterwards she took two small handfuls from above my ears and after braiding the locks fastened them at the back of my head. She curled an array of loose strands and arranged them so they fell around my shoulders and across my back. When she finished, she took a step away to admire her handiwork.

"I really don't think you need to do anything more than that," she said. "Your hair is so pretty; it would be a shame to pin it all up."

"Merci, Mama. It's perfect." I rose and hugged her.

The dinner bell rang and my mother offered to walk me down but I shook my head no. "I...Gavin...I'm a little nervous, Mama...I need a few more minutes."

"Of course. Take your time. I'll tell everyone you'll be down shortly."

She closed the door as she left. I went back to my vanity and stood in front of my mirror to look myself over one last time before I went downstairs. I wanted to add something but I wasn't sure what. Something was missing, though. I closed my eyes and tried to picture whatever it was but the only thing that came to mind was Gavin.

He was behind me; somehow I knew he was standing right behind me and with my eyes still closed I called to him.

He nibbled my ear, "Yes, love...I'm here." He wrapped his arms around my waist and hugged me from behind. "I have just the thing," he whispered. His fingers shuffled as they searched the pocket of his waistcoat. "Ah, here it is. No peeking."

I stood anxious and still until the pearls he draped around my neck caressed my skin and he clasped them beneath my hair. I opened my eyes and marveled at their beauty. There were three strands, one made up of small delicate pearls, the next slightly larger ones and the third set of pearls nearly double in size of the first. Intricately carved ornaments held the strands together and apart so they appeared to plunge in little tiers, one to the next, across my chest.

"Oh," I touched them and was awestruck by their luster, "ils sont magnifiques!"

"Vous êtes magnifique," Gavin bent over my shoulder and tilted my chin before kissing me. "May I walk you down to dinner?"

"Mais oui."

He took my hand and placed it in the crook of his arm then led me down to the dining room. My parents and brothers stood up as we came in and took our seats. Everything seemed so different, I was so confident and at ease. I glanced around the table and greeted my family one by one starting with my father, then Jean and Philippe and my mother.

Finally my eyes fell on Gabriel; I'd forgotten that he would be there. I smiled across the table toward him, "Thank you so much for joining us this evening," I said with formality.

"Thank you for inviting me," his eyes were bright and there seemed to be some hidden, happy meaning in his expression.

I had never seen Gabriel in anything other than his everyday attire. The suit he wore seemed a little dated and hinted at being too small for his frame. I wondered if it was his or something he borrowed or that his father had given him to wear. He looked very handsome either way and it surprised me I never noticed how attractive he was.

He seemed to be waiting for me to say something more but I turned to Gavin instead, "Where is Claire?" I asked.

There was a flash of surprise in his eyes which he quickly suppressed. Gavin shrugged and with utter indifference said that he didn't know. He hadn't seen her since we returned from the cellars but it wasn't unlike Claire to venture off on her own from time to time. She liked to wander and explore and could not bear to be idle overlong in one place. My father seconded Gavin's opinion and no one seemed to sense the peculiarity of her absence.

The servants brought out the first course. Gavin had nearly all my attention but I felt Gabriel watching us from where he sat across and to the left of me. He seemed reluctant to eat and I guessed he was nervous about choosing the wrong utensil. He looked confused, so I decided that he had never sat down to a formal dinner. I glanced his way and with what I hoped was a look of encouragement lifted a bite of the appetizer with my fingers. He seemed to understand what I was trying to show him and began to eat.

I did this with each new course; glanced Gabriel's way, smiled and held my fork or knife so he could see which to use then took a delicate bite. I wasn't very hungry and only managed a few tastes of everything the kitchen sent out. Between dishes I spent most of my time talking and laughing with Gavin. His thigh brushed mine throughout dinner, we sat so close together, and it made me feel giddy and alive.

He shared his stories about Paris and all the things he wanted to show me. I listened and smiled and every time I met his eyes they seemed to tell me something – how beautiful he thought I looked, how much he loved me, how much he wanted me. I reveled in the awareness just as I did his touch.

By the time dessert arrived Gabriel had gone from confused to disappointed, to frustrated and outwardly angry. Jean spoke with him throughout the lengthy meal and my mother found one or two things to talk to him about as well. Other than when I helped him with his silverware I paid little attention to him so I wasn't aware that his mood had changed so drastically.

When dessert was over and the last of the plates cleared away Gavin motioned to the servant. He came around and bent down between us as Gavin whispered his request. The servant nodded and hurried off. Several minutes later he returned holding a tray laden with flutes of champagne. He stood behind Gavin who rose from his seat and took one of the glasses.

Gavin tapped his rim twice and drew everyone's attention. "Several years ago I met the man whose table we have all enjoyed this evening. It was on a rainy night in Paris as I was stepping out of my hotel to make the evening's post and he was racing in to escape a sudden cloudburst. Neither of us was paying much attention as Providence would have it and we crashed together. My letters scattered and his umbrella broke and a profuse effusion of curses followed. Then we looked at one another and together realizing the futility of it all laughed as heartily as two men can."

"We clapped one another on the shoulder and with a timepiece's precision uttered the same apology one to the other – Let me buy you a drink."

"Well, over the course of this drink I learned to love this man who told me such stories of his wife, his home, his sons." Gavin looked from my father, to Philippe; he shot a barb of malice at Gabriel as he skipped over him and nodded to Jean and my mother. My mind was in a frenzy because I was sure I knew where this speech was leading everyone, "and his daughter." Gavin looked down at me overflowing with affection and placed his flute on the table. He reached for my hand. I stood up.

"Such stories of his daughter that I knew I needed to know her, felt in my heart that I must meet her and if she was even half as remarkable as he expressed her to be that she would be twice as extraordinary as any other woman I had ever met."

I blushed profusely at the warm praise and lowered my eyes.

"Every day that passed from then to this I spent all my idle moments thinking on and wondering about the girl whose images would not, could not be stricken from my mind. The very idea that such a woman existed emboldened me to beg Mr. Rousseau for an introduction. Now, here, I find myself in her presence, her at my side and I know that I can never be without her by my side again."

Gavin knelt down, my heart stopped; he bowed his head over my hand and looked up, "Vivienne Alysse Rousseau," joyous tears sprung to my eyes, "will you marry me?"

"Yes, Gavin...yes, yes, yes...I will," and I took his face in my hands and kissed him.

He reached in his pocket and this time pulled out an emerald engagement ring set in gold and accented by an array of brilliant diamonds. As he slipped it onto my finger, I caught some movement from the corner of my eye. Gabriel stood up, a look of complete astonishment sweeping across his face. Jean had the same expression as he caught at Gabriel's arm to hold him back from leaping across the table. Gabriel was shaking his head and his mouth moved but no words came out as he struck Jean in the chest and turned to flee. Philippe jumped up to defend his brother but Gabriel was already several paces away and out of Philippe's reach.

Gavin called to Philippe, "Let him go," and it was all he needed to say. Philippe helped Jean to his feet and together they both slumped back down into their chairs. "Forget him," Gavin said and his gaze fell on each of us in turn.

A moment later my father burst out of his chair, "Congratulations," he cried and his words carried us all back to the occasion at hand. My father toasted Gavin and I where we stood and the others followed his lead. We soon forgot the disruption of Gabriel's departure as Gavin led me around the table. I proudly held my hand out for them all to see and appreciate the splendor of his ring. Once each member of my family had a chance to offer their happy wishes for our future together we all made our way to the parlor.

Gavin took a seat on the chaise and pulled me down beside him, "Stretch yourself out," he suggested. l kicked off my shoes and laid across the length of the cushion then rested the back of my head against his shoulder. His free hand stroked some of the loose strands of my hair and I sighed in contentment. "Are you comfortable?" he asked.

"Oui; I could stay like this forever."

"Not forever," he chuckled, "I will bring you up to your room soon so you can rest. You will need it to stay strong for us," he whispered against my temple so no one else would hear and laid his hand on my belly.

Then he picked up one of my hands and massaged the fleshy part of my palm. It felt wonderful for so simple a touch and before long I was sound asleep while everyone around me talked openly and excitedly over the events of the day. Hours later he roused me with a kiss and said that I needed to head upstairs. I protested, but he wouldn't hear it and instead gathered me up and told me to say goodnight to my family.

"Bon soir," I yawned as he carried me away.

Once we were in my room, I asked if he would stay a moment and help me with my laces. I held my hair for him and turned away. His fingertips fumbled with the knot and one by one the strands loosened. The weight of the gown dragged itself from my shoulders and it fell to the floor.

"Vivienne," his voice full of reluctance and regret, "it can't be like this for us, not tonight anyway."

I turned to face him, "But why? I love you and we are to be married, why should we wait?"

Gavin hid his face, "It wouldn't be right...I'm not...I'm not strong enough tonight. I'm afraid...afraid of what I might...I could hurt you, Vivienne, without knowing it or meaning to," he turned back to face me.

"I don't understand," I pleaded.

He hugged me and apologized once more, "I know," he said, "but everything will be different once we are married and in Paris, and then when we move to America – New York or Boston..."

I shook my head and lunged for him unwilling to accept his denial. I could feel him hard against me and was sure he wanted me as much as I wanted him. Reaching up I undid the first button on his shirt as I tugged it from his pants. He seized my hands, more roughly than he intended and forced them to my sides.

"I said NO, Vivienne!"

All my desire and passion vanished. I broke down and cried.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry...I didn't mean...you see...don't you see?" Before I realized what was happening he kissed me and his teeth pressed against my lower lip. There was a sharp pain as he pierced its delicate flesh. I could taste my blood and a moment later his blood mingling with mine, "you understand, Vivienne, don't you understand?"

"Oui, Gavin," my response came tumbling out, "I understand," I said even though I didn't understand at all.

"Goodnight, Vivienne. I love you."

"I love you, too," I kissed his cheek and said goodnight before he hurried away.

## Chapitre Vingt

I crawled beneath the covers and tried to sleep but there were too many unhappy thoughts swimming around in my mind. I retraced the events of the day; the ride to the vineyard, our walk home. I remembered being angry then, at Philippe. "But why?" I wondered to myself. He had done something to upset me, I was sure of it.

I didn't feel well after the ride and I went upstairs as soon as we got home. I wanted my mother, but she never came, Claire had instead. She gave me wine and... "Yes, oh, yes, it tasted like," I smiled to myself at the memory but couldn't find a word to describe it. I gulped it down and wanted more until...until it all came back up. Then Claire told me I was pregnant, that I was going to have a baby.

I caressed my belly.

"Gavin cannot have children," Claire's voice rang in my head.

"It's not Gavin's baby," I frowned. "I...I..."

"Vivienne?" a voice called from the hallway tearing me from my recollections.

"Yes, Jean, I'm up," I tiptoed to the door and unlocked it. He hurried in and took the handle then silently closed it behind him. "What's wrong, Jean? Why are you here?"

"I'm here to take you away, Vivienne. So you won't have to marry Gavin."

"What? What are you saying Jean? Why wouldn't I marry Gavin?"

Jean frowned at me, "Because you're not in love with him." I laughed a little out loud. "Ssh," Jean covered my mouth, "he'll hear us!"

"What has gotten into you, Jean? Did you have too much wine tonight? You should go back to bed and get some rest," I teased.

"Non," he firmly stated. "Claire is waiting for us and we are taking you away! Put something on," he looked around and saw Claire's riding clothes resting on the floor where I left them before getting ready for dinner. Jean kicked them towards me, "Get dressed!" he insisted.

I guffawed, "Non, Jean, I will not! And if you don't stop this nonsense, I will call to Papa!"

"Non!" Jean panicked, "Please Vivienne, listen to me, please, please come with me. He must have done something to you! Gavin has done something to you and you're not yourself. He is a monster, Vivienne, he can't be trusted!"

"He's right," Claire was suddenly in the room with us. "We don't have time for this," she glanced at Jean. "He knows I'm here! He's coming for her!" Claire seized me around my waist and forced me against her; my back to her front. Then she launched us out one of the attic windows. We landed hard and I became so disoriented from the jolt I wasn't able to fight back as she tossed me over her shoulder. She raced us down the path toward the farmhouses.

Once I regained my senses I screamed, "Put me down!" over and over again while I kicked and clawed at her as she ran.

A moment later we were at the barn and she locked me in a stall while she saddled a horse. She cursed several times as she fumbled with the gate before finally getting it open and letting me out. I tried to run but she was too fast and clutched at my hand then yanked me back to her side.

We heard voices approaching, "Gavin!" I called even though I was sure it wasn't him.

Claire climbed into the saddle and wrenching my arm she dragged me up in front of her. My father rounded the doorway and Philippe moved from behind him. They both had shotguns they shouldered and aimed at Claire.

"Let her go, Claire. Gavin will be here soon. We don't want to hurt you. Remember your promise."

"I can't Frédéric; the circumstances are different now. Vivienne is pregnant. There is a reason we cannot have children, Fred, surely you can appreciate that knowing what we are. It's your grandchild for God's sake!"

"You lie! Vivienne cannot be pregnant!"

"She can, and she is," Claire assured him and nervously looked around. "Please, Frédéric, please, before it's too late, let us go!"

There were two simultaneous clicks behind them and they both jumped at the sound. Deaglan and Gabriel stood in the doorway armed with pistols, their fingers on the triggers and the barrels pointing at my father and Philippe.

"Vivienne," Gabriel glanced at me, "are you alright?"

"Non, non! I am not alright! Claire has gone mad! She took me from my room and threw us...out...the..." I choked out the words realizing what she had done and how impossible it was, "window."

A look of horror crossed my face, "You're the monster!" I spat at her and redoubled my efforts to get away. Somehow she lost her grip and I tumbled from the saddle. When I fell I dashed the back of my head against one of the thick wooden pillars that held the barn roof up.

Gabriel dropped his gun and ran to my side, "Vivienne," he cradled my head and searched my eyes. "Oh, God! Oh, no...no...no...NO!" tears streamed down his cheeks.

I didn't get hurt, at least not as badly as he imagined but I was still frantic to get as far from Claire as I possibly could. I reached for his hands so he would let me go and I could scramble away. When I did, though, I touched the lock of hair he had braided and tied about his wrist.

"Huh?" I looked down at it and like a flash the memories of what it was and how it became Gabriel's came flooding back.

"Oh," I whispered in awestruck fascination of the images. I stood up, "Gabriel!" I threw my arms around him, "I...I...we...we were, yes! We're engaged and...oh, I never told you! I never told anyone. We are having a baby! I meant to tell you, tell everyone, at dinner tonight...but...but," I looked at all the confused faces surrounding us then fell silent.

My father wheeled his gun from Claire to Deaglan, "Vivienne, come away from him! Come away from him now!" He shouted as Philippe turned his gun from Claire to Gabriel.

"I told you I would kill him!" Philippe grinned maliciously at me as he cocked the trigger.

"Non, Philippe, Papa, please, please," I begged as I stepped in front of Gabriel to shield him from their sights.

Realizing she was unguarded Claire slid down from the saddle. Before Philippe could pull the trigger or he or my father had a chance to react, she seized their rifles. She knocked Philippe to the ground with the butt of one and swept the legs out from under my father. As they lay gazing up at her, we heard a faint clapping slowly approaching from the shadows.

"Nicely done, Cousin. Nicely done."

Claire studied him as he moved closer then called over her shoulder to Gabriel and I, "Climb up and ride! Ride as fast and as far as you can! Don't look back!" Claire turned her attention back to Gavin, "You're weak Gavin, I can see it, I can smell it! You haven't fed and you won't be able to stop them!"

"Am I? Won't I though?" he chuckled. "Jean, Hélène, would you come here please?" They came and stood one on each side of him. He reached up and caressed my mother's neck with the tips of his fingers as she leaned her head back longingly.

"Mama!! Jean!!" I screamed and tried to pull away from Gabriel.

Gavin looked up, "It doesn't have to be this way, Vivienne. Come to me and I swear to you, I won't hurt either of them."

My father found his voice, "What are you doing? This was not a part of our agreement!"

"Non? Pity. But you promised me a docile, young woman who would do anything I asked," Gavin stared across at me, "Vivienne...Come..." he held his hand out. I shook my head no. "There, you see, you broke your promise now I'm afraid I must break mine!"

Gavin clutched my mother's hair and viciously yanked her head back. There was nothing anyone could do as he latched on and drew her life from her. I screamed, my father screamed, Philippe scrambled to his feet, Deaglan shot but missed. Claire lunged for Gavin as my mother plummeted to the ground and Jean stumbled backwards shaking his head. He looked around in confusion for a moment before slowly recovering his awareness.

Then the entire scene erupted; Claire, my father and Philippe attacked Gavin but he fought like someone possessed and quickly gained ground against their concerted efforts. My father tried using his rifle like a club and pounded away at Gavin while Philippe swung and stabbed with his.

"Papa!" I cried when Gavin whirled and caught my father with a ferocious backhand that knocked his head to an impossible angle. Philippe struck Gavin in his side but it only intensified Gavin's anger. He lunged, and Gavin's fist sunk into Philippe's chest. He crumbled then fell to his knees before lolling lifeless to the side.

Gabriel instantly realized how desperate the situation was, "Jean, get Vivienne, take the horse and ride!"

Jean sprang into action and leapt up into the saddle, "Non!" I protested as he reached for my hand, "Not without Gabriel!"

"Go! Vivienne! Just go! The baby...our baby, Vivienne, please, you must!!"

"We'll be right behind you!" Deaglan assured me as he brought his fingers to his lips and gave a shrill whistle.

Gavin had Claire pinned to the ground; his boot across her throat but suddenly Trista and Isolde were on him and they forced him back. Seeing the dogs and the brutality they fought with gave me hope. I urged Jean to hurry certain in my heart that Gabriel and Deaglan would be fast on our heels.

We galloped away. The minutes passed then hours. Still there was no sign of either of them and every stride of the horse brought me closer and closer to despair. I begged Jean to stop and turn the horse so we could go back for them but my pleas fell on deaf ears and he would not rein her in. Eventually the horse would no longer carry us. By then it was morning, the sun just creeping over the horizon.

When Jean helped me from the saddle I tried to flee, to retrace our path but I was too weak and weary. He caught me after half a dozen steps. The effort to escape wrenched my insides and I vomited into the grass at my feet while sobbing uncontrollably.

Jean led me back to the horse and forced me into the saddle again. He took the reins and tugged the mare to get her moving again. We needed to rest and Jean begged shelter for us at a lonesome farm we happened upon. He told the owner I was pregnant and banished from my home with nowhere to go and no one to care for me. I looked so desolate and heartbroken that the farmer and his wife took pity on us and lavished their care and concern on me.

They foddered and sheltered our horse and cleaned our clothes. They let us sleep in their bed and provisioned us before we left the next morning. The farmer's wife gave me a significant look and told Jean of a convent half a day's ride from where we were.

"Thank you," Jean considered her advice.

By then I was too miserable to care one way or the other where we were or where we went. I did whatever Jean told me without thought or protest because it no longer mattered. Until I knew he was safe and Gabriel found me nothing would ever mean anything again.

The sisters welcomed us and their warmth and affection convinced Jean that for the time being there was no better place for me. They would not shelter Jean, though, and as soon as he made arrangements for me to stay they asked him to leave. When he came to say goodbye my eyes went wild with fear.

"You are my only family, Jean! Please don't leave me!"

He stroked my hair, "I must, Vivienne. Unfortunately, I must. I'll try to find work somewhere nearby and I'll visit you as often as I can."

"He's still alive, Jean! I know it! I feel it in my heart, in my head! You must go back for him! You must!"

"No, Vivienne, ssh, ssh. They would have found us by now."

"Go back!" I insisted, "Go back and make certain."

"I will," he promised, but I knew there was no sincerity behind it and that he never would. Jean would not, could not face the horrors he was sure he would find there.

He did keep his promise to visit me, though, at least once a week, sometimes more. After finding work as an apprentice to a blacksmith at the nearest town he rented rooms there. One night he met a barmaid who stole his heart when he heard her singing in the church choir the following Sunday. By the time I was 8 months pregnant they had gotten married and moved to a little cottage on the outskirts of the town.

Jean brought me to their wedding and though it was the first time I met her, I knew Jean couldn't have done better. She was sweet and kind, spiritual and loving; they were perfect for one another. When he returned me to the sisters, I asked him what had been weighing on my mind as the time for the baby's arrival drew near.

"Would you take my baby, Jean? Will you raise her as your own? Will you call her Gabrielle and when she falls in love let her marry whomever she will?"

"Non, Vivienne, that is not what you want. Once the baby is born you will never want to part with her. You can come live with us, and we'll raise her together."

I smiled and nodded, "Oui, Jean, of course."

A month later she was born and with the first breath of life she took the last breath of life left me. I knew I was dying, knew I had killed myself mourning Gabriel and I accepted it. I raced willingly toward death hoping I would find him there.

But he was not who I found.

"Mother?"

"Come Vivienne; I'm here to show you the way."

Silhouetted in a brilliant light she beckoned to me. I held my hand out to hers and took a step towards her but there was something behind me, in the darkness, calling me. I looked back.

"Gabriel! You're alive!"

I pivoted intending to head towards the darkness rather than the light.

"No Vivienne! It's too late; you have done what you must. You can't go back."

I was full of indecision.

"You don't understand," she said. "He's not the same," she continued, "and besides it doesn't work like that. You can't go back!" I felt my mother drawing me towards her. "It will start all over!"

"What will?" I wondered and glanced at my mother. Then Gabriel, he called me again and I couldn't resist. I called back and as I did, I felt myself spinning and falling and being drawn back into the darkness.

## Epilogue de la Première Partie

Deaglan Speaks

Gavin was the last one standing. He was hardly recognizable as himself or even as a human for that matter. The dogs had ravaged him but they paid a horrible price for their efforts. They lay whimpering in the grass beyond the threshold of the barn door. There was nothing I could do for them so I crawled toward Gabriel. I crouched on the floor and cradled his head into my lap. His body seemed lifeless and so did Claire's who lay not so very far from us. Her blood wept from the dozens, maybe even hundreds of wounds that covered her from head to toe.

I cried openly for the loss of my girls and for my friend Gabriel. He had been more of a brother to me than anything else and I loved him and couldn't imagine my life without him.

"Please Gavin, please," I begged, "before you finish this see to my dogs; help them from their misery."

It took a long while for my words to register; he seemed to be in some kind of trance or just awakening and becoming sensible of where he was and everything that had happened. He surveyed the damage he had done to Claire and to Gabriel. Then Gavin glanced over his shoulder at the helpless forms of Trista and Isolde.

"They fought brilliantly...your girls, I suppose they deserve a good death." He picked up one of the rifles and strode towards them.

As he walked away Claire motioned to me, "Bring him here, it's not too late," she gurgled.

Her voice, her words sounded hypnotic and I didn't realize it but I dragged Gabriel to her side. She took her fingertip and swiped at the blood flowing from one of her many wounds. Then she smoothed the blood over the lesions covering Gabriel.

"Help me," she implored.

And again without thought I used my finger to mop up her blood and dabbed it at the various cuts and scrapes covering Gabriel. To my amazement the wounds began healing; at first slowly, flickeringly, then rapidly as if the process was gaining strength. We worked frantically but then we heard the first of Gavin's shots and knew the second would not be far off.

"There isn't time! Open his mouth," I did and she held her arm to his lips and closed her eyes. When I saw the blood oozing from her wrist and into Gabriel I instinctively realized what she was doing. I wanted to stop her; I had to stop her, to prevent her from the profane act she was committing. "Not until he moves! As soon as he moves and not a drop more or it will be too much!" she insisted. "For Vivienne..." she said knowing I loved her just as much and would do anything for the two of them.

I wanted to believe her, felt desperate to believe and trust Claire and despite all my inner misgivings could not will myself to push her away.

The second shot fired and a moment later we heard Gavin approaching. Gabriel didn't move, didn't even twitch. Gavin kicked Claire's arm away, "It's too late, Cousin! He's gone."

Gavin was right, I was sure of it. He took no breath, his torso did not rise or fall. I laid my ear against Gabriel's chest and there was nothing but silence.

Gavin seized Claire by the hair and me by the throat and dragged us both away. He threw Claire to the ground and with his hand freed gathered up the rifle again. He put the barrel against her chest and pulled the trigger. It blasted a huge opening and dropping the rifle Gavin knelt down. He reached into the bloody hole and ripped what remained of her heart out.

With that he pulled me to standing, "I won't show you the same mercy I showed your dogs!" he latched on, but only for a second.

I wasn't sure how it happened but I flew backward a dozen feet and into the darkness. I couldn't see anything but I heard what sounded like horrendous blows coming from the direction of the barn. The sound moved away, further and further away and before long there was nothing but deafening silence. I strained my ears as I made my way back to the doorway. Gabriel had disappeared. I wandered to the steps leading up to the loft and sat down waiting and wondering.

An hour passed, two. It started to grow light.

I buried my face in my hands and wept, wept for everything I had lost, for everything that had happened and for what I was sure had become of Gabriel.

"Deaglan?"

I looked up and there he stood alive and well without so much as a nick or a scratch on him. "Gabriel?" I leapt down and ran to hug him.

"No, don't!" he put his arm up stopping me in my tracks. "You mustn't...I...you...stay away Deaglan!" Gabriel moaned.

As his words tumbled out, I realized what was wrong. He wasn't Gabriel any more, at least not the way I knew him. He was one of them – he was a Droch-fhola; a vampire and he wanted to kill me.

Suddenly Gabriel dropped to his knees. His skin blistered and burned, I thought I could hear it sizzling as the sunlight struck him. I peeled my jacket off and covered his face.

I remembered my mother telling me about the Droch-fhola and how they abhorred sunlight and now I understood why, "The cellars, Gabriel, get to the cellars! There must be one they are not using."

He clutched at the jacket and like a blur raced off in the direction of the vineyards. The farmhands would be rising soon and starting their day so I knew that I, too, needed to get away. I found my way to the clearing I helped Gabriel makeover for Vivienne's birthday.

"Vivienne," I said and wondered what would become of her.

Exhausted and heartbroken I curled up beneath the boulder and slept the day away. It was dark when I woke and there was a boot in my face.

"Gabriel?"

"Oui, Deaglan," his voice utterly forlorn. I sensed that something terrible, something new and terrible had happened. "I am a killer, Deaglan. They have made me a killer and I cannot wait to kill again! I killed the cellar master without thought, without remorse! I drained him like I would a glass of wine and now he is dead and I don't care and I could to do it again and again and again!"

He grew silent and the silence wore on and on.

"You could, Gabriel, but you won't. We will find a way...a way around this. I will help you and you will never, NEVER, be like them. You will never kill again. I promise."

Then like the boulder he sat on Gabriel fell into my arms and cried all his sorrows into my shoulder. "Everything is lost, Deaglan! I had it all and now all is lost."

## La fin - Première Partie

I hope you've enjoyed Vivienne's story so far. To find out how it ends, please read Part 2 - Vivienne: The Lost and Found.

Additional works by S. M. Bowles:

Haeven

After a chance encounter, Emily gets swept into Herrik's strange, preternatural world. Not everyone appreciates having her kind there, though. When she uncovers a plot that threatens to overthrow the delicate harmony that exists there between his kind and hers, Emily must find the one person who can help reclaim Haeven and restore the balance.

Love, betrayal, intrigue and a slew of dynamic characters make Haeven a must-read for anyone who loves the mystical world of vampires.

Sanctity: holiness of life and character

Michael hugged me to his chest. When he let me go, he made his way around the bed and rummaged in one of the nightstands. Afterwards he came back and stood directly in front of me. He had a small, red pocket knife and unfolded the blade. He took my hand in his and curled all but my index finger into a fist. I looked into his eyes trustingly. He appeared very solemn as he made a slight incision on the very tip of my finger. I sucked in my breath and tried not to flinch. A tiny streak of blood appeared and as Michael gave my finger a gentle squeeze, it grew into a little round bubble.

He closed his eyes and brought my finger to his lips. My heart fluttered and I sensed a subtle pull on my insides, like my soul was reaching out to him. He sighed as he lowered my finger and folded my arm to my chest.

"There," he said, "now you will be a part of me forever."

