WINDS OF ETERNITY

A DARK SHADOWS Novel by Nancy Eddy

Art by:

Nan Nelson - Cover, pages 19 and 24

Donna Devault-Hensley - page 54

Andrea Palencar - page 30

K.R. Sluterbeck - page 59

Available From:
Kathleen Resch
PO Box 1766
Temple City, CA  91780
WINDS OF ETERNITY Copyright © June, 1996 by Kathleen Resch for Nancy Eddy. No reprints permitted without permission of author and editor. This publication does not intend to infringe upon copyrights held by Dan Curtis, ABC-TV, or any other holders of Dark Shadows copyrights.
Author's note: I came up with the name of this series before ever hearing of WINDS OF WAR which Dark Shadows creator and producer Dan Curtis directed. When I did hear of the mini-series, I thought it an - interesting coincidence. Enjoy.

Chapter One

England, 4th Century, A.D.

The merchant stood at the center of the group of men, his sharp eyes knowing from experience those who looked at his wares intending to buy. He was waiting for a question, one above others, and it was not long in coming.

"What news have you, friend merchant, for those who have known you all of your life?"

Spreading his arms wide for effect, the merchant answered. "Wondrous news, friends. A new belief. A better one than the Druids offer."

A few buyers rolled their eyes as if to say, "Nothing new." The merchant's dislike of the Druid priests was well known among those in the village. Eighteen summers before, he had asked them for a son and received a daughter. And if that had not been enough, his wife had died in spite of all the magic the priests could work. Since that time, it was not uncommon for the merchant to speak against the Druids. It was also dangerous. There were among the crowd spies who listened and reported back to the priests.

"A belief in one God instead of many," the merchant continued. "A merciful God who does not force others to accept His edicts as law." Many in the group began to move cautiously away. If the spies were here, it would not do to be seen listening to such sacrilege. And the spies could be anyone - even one's own neighbors - just as the High Priests could be. Seeing that he had lost part of his audience, the merchant's eyes darted around the smaller crowd. "There is more, but now is not the time. I must make haste to see my daughter. It has been a long journey and I am weary. My home is open to

any who wish to hear more." With a deep bow, he packed away his goods and led his mount and pack animal down the dirt lane.
As he approached the large stone house, the merchant paused. His golden-haired daughter was standing with a tall, dark man. Beside them, a black stallion pawed the ground, a black stallion that the merchant easily recognized. There was none other like it in the area. As he watched, his daughter wished the man good-bye and stood beside the road as he mounted and rode away. Walking slowly, the merchant waited until he was very near the girl before speaking. "Grendl."
Her blue eyes widened in surprise at his familiar voice, then she turned to look down the path the horse and rider had taken. Smiling nervously, she looked back at her father. "Father. You have returned early, I did not expect you for another fortnight."
"What business did Andemus have here, daughter?"
"None. He often comes here when you are away, to make sure I am well and not in need," she said, slipping her arm through his. "He is a neighbor, Father. Do not be angry."
"I am not angry, daughter." He called for a servant-boy to take the animals, retrieving a cloth-wrapped package from the donkey's back.
"What is that?" Grendl wanted to know.
"Something for you. Let us go inside first."
In the house, he called for a drink, then gave her the gift. With deft fingers, she unfastened the wrapping and gasped with delight at the small silver box that fit into
one well shaped hand. "It is - beautiful. Is it truly - silver?"

His smile was indulgent. "It is." "Thank you, Father." She held the silver box up to let it reflect the afternoon sunlight,  wondering   what  Andemus  would think of her new treasure.

Andemus dismounted and tossed his horse's reins to a waiting servant without really noticing the boy. His mind was still too full of Grendl's big blue eyes and of their morning meeting in the oak grove. Why would she not marry him, he wondered. He had land, a fine house, and he loved her. Surely she did not suspect the truth. It was only known to the other priests.

A cruel-faced man of his own age stood waiting impatiently in the hall. "Andemus. Where have you been?"

Andemus sighed, used to such questions, leading him into the study. "For a ride, Damian."

"The merchant has returned." "Oh?" was Andemus' only response. Would her father's return prevent Grendl from seeing him? he wondered silently.

"He spoke against us in the village." Andemus sat down. "That is nothing new, Damian. He makes a habit of doing so. No one listens to him."

"It is time that he be punished," Damian insisted.

"He has been warned - " Andemus reminded the other man.

"But he did not heed the warning. He is a fool, Andemus. A dangerous fool. It must be done without delay."

Rising, Andemus went to the window. But instead of the green fields beyond the stables, he saw Grendl's trusting blue eyes. "Do what you must, Damian. But leave me out of it. I must maintain no connection with Druid activity if I am not to be discovered." Forgive me, Grendl, he thought to himself. I have no choice.

Grendl was admiring the silver box the next morning when she heard a commotion in the stable. Running out onto the cobbled courtyard, she saw the stable boy run from the building, terror in his young eyes. "What is wrong, Tyan?"
"It's terrible, Miss. The - Druids. They - he finally said too much."
She shook the boy, fear making her impatient. "What are you babbling about?"
"Y-Your father, Miss."
Her fear grew as Grendl ran past Tyan and into the dark stable. She found her father's crushed and bloody body in his mount's stall. She knew before searching for a heartbeat that he was dead. "Tyan!"
He was behind her, hovering in the stall opening. "Yes, Miss?"
"Get someone to help move him to the house. Where is his horse?"
"It - ran away when I opened the stall."
"Did you see what happened?"
"No, Miss. He was 1-like that when I came in to feed and set the horses loOse." He swallowed convulsively. "I - I will h-help you move him -"
"I told you to get help to move him, Tyan," she said more harshly than she intended. Hearing his normally soft spoken mistress speak so sharply sent Tyan running from the stable to find help. Kneeling beside her father's broken body, she felt the coldness of his skin and shuddered. His fist was clenched tightly around something, and when Grendl pried his fingers open she found a single acorn.
The Druids. Her father's death had been meant as a warning against others not to speak against them. Hearing voices, Grendl put the acorn into her pocket and went to meet the help that Tyan had brought.
She was alone in the main room of the house when Andemus was shown in. As soon as they were alone, he said, "I came as soon as I heard the news."
Grendl went into his arms. "Oh, An-demus. I am so glad you did." She pressed her face into his shoulder and began to cry.

Andemus waited for her to stop before saying anything. "What happened? From what my servants heard his horse trampled him."

Grendl moved away, placing her hand in her pocket, where it closed around the small object there. "No. He was murdered."

"Murdered? By who?"

"The Druids. They killed him to silence him."

"But - you cannot be sure of that, Grendl," he said carefully.

She held out the acorn. "This is all the proof I need. I found this in his hand. It was a warning."

Andemus made no move to take the acorn from her. "What will you do now?"

"Do? What can I do but continue what he began? He told me last night that the Romans have outlawed the Druids in other areas. He wanted that to happen here."

"If you speak against them, you could be killed as well."

Throwing the acorn into the fire, Grendl's face grew determined. "I do not care."

"Then you do not care for me."

"Of course I do." Her fingers caressed his cheek lightly before she moved away. "But don't you understand? I cannot let them get away with this. I will not."

"If you marry me, then no one would dare harm you."

"Andemus, what I must do will be dangerous. If I were to marry you, you would be in danger as well."

"I would not mind."

"I would. I will not ask you to support my cause publicly, but do not condemn me for it. I beg of you."

"Never. I only ask that you be careful, Grendl. The Druids can be ruthless. Even more than you know."

Over the next month, Grendl spoke to anyone she could about the possibility of the Druids being outlawed by the Romans. And people were listening.
Damian stalked into Andemus' study unannounced, furious. "She must be stopped!" he declared.
"Who?"
"That - merchant's daughter. She is causing unrest in the village. There is talk of sending for Roman soldiers."
"I know." Andemus took a deep breath. "Perhaps - if we warned her -"
"No. If the death of her father was not warning enough, then no mere warning will stop her." He began to pace the room. "There must be a way to deal with her." Andemus watched him closely, keeping his worry well-hidden. Damian's ideas were often cruel and sadistic. "I have it," he said, turning around. "The solstice."
"What about it?" Andemus asked, knowing where he was heading.
"We will need a sacrifice. A beautiful, innocent girl - Grendl."
"Damian -"
His voice was sharper than he intended, drawing Damian's gray gaze. "Do you have another plan?"
"No," Andemus admitted. "But her death may only cause the villagers to become angry. Grendl is well-liked. They may send for the soldiers anyway."
"The villagers are an ignorant lot," Damian scoffed. "When word of Grendl's sacrifice is spread, her followers will scatter like leaves to the wind. Yes. It is a perfect plan. Yes," he mused with satisfaction. "Grendl will be our sacrifice on the midsummer solstice. Do you agree?" Those colourless eyes were on him again.
Knowing he had no choice, Andemus turned to the window. "I agree." The solstice was one day away.
He met Grendl that night at the grove. After returning his kiss, she looked up into his face. "I have news, Andemus."
"Tell me your news," he said softly, almost hoping that she was going to tell him
that the Roman soldiers would be there at sunrise.

"I am with child. Your child."

He searched her face, then closed his eyes. "No. You cannot-"

Her eyes mirrored his confusion. "I thought you would be pleased. We can be married -"

Andemus jumped quickly on her words. "Yes. Yes, we will leave tonight -"

She pulled away, surprised. "Leave? For what reason?"

"I cannot explain. But we must leave."

"But - what of my property? And yours?"

"They do not matter."

"Andemus, I will not leave without an explanation."

"You must, Grendl," he said solemnly.

"Why? Tell me and I will go anywhere you ask."

Andemus found himself cursing the stubbornness which made her so attractive. She would not leave, and he could not tell her why she had to. "Very well, my love," he said at last, pulling her against him with an urgency which communicated itself to her.

Many of Grendl's servants were gone, frightened away by the threat of the Druid's revenge. So she was alone in the stable the next evening when rough hands grasped her from behind. She screamed, but there was no one to hear. A cloth was quickly tied over her eyes and mouth before she was lifted onto a horse.

The ride seemed to last a long time, and when she was removed from the animal's back, she almost fell to the ground. "You oaf!" A strange voice, with dangerous, chilling overtones. "Be more gentle. No bruises must mark her."

More hands removed her clothing and placed a robe-like gown of some rough material around her. Outside her place of imprisonment, she could hear voices chant-

ing strange, terrifying words. The Druids, she realized. They have brought me to their meeting place. But why? The solstice. Father once told me about the sacrifice on the solstice. Andemus, she called silently, save me. Or I will never see you again.
Andemus raised his eyes to survey the ring of huge stones. No one knew who had placed them here. For as far back as any could recall, they had existed on this plain. Damian finished leading the chant, then lifted the sharply-honed oak-handled dagger. Pulling his hood to cover his face, Andemus went forward to receive the instrument of sacrifice. He stood before the stone altar, consecrating it and the knife by repeating the proper words, but his mind kept remembering. Grendl. The child. His child.
He kept his eyes straight ahead, his face in shadow as Grendl was led towards him and placed on the altar. She did not fight, but walked bravely between her guards to her fate. Andemus recognized his pride in her. She had such courage. Grendl. The child.
The blind-fold was removed, and her blue eyes searched his features. Andemus felt the shock of betrayal in his own mind. Grendl. Their child.
The chant was reaching its crescendo, and Andemus raised the knife high above his head with both hands as he had done before - then held it there. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, no one moving. Then Grendl took advantage of her lover's hesitation and rolled from the altar, running away, faster and faster, not caring where her steps led.
Andemus did not look around. Being fleeter of foot than most of his brethren, he followed the terrified woman, knowing that Damian led the others in close pursuit.
Grendl stopped at the edge of the cliffs at the river, and turned like a cornered, frightened animal. He halted close by. "Grendl -"
She stepped away. "No. Stay away from me! You - lied! You killed Father!"
"No. No, I did not. You must believe me." He took a step toward her. "Grendl, I -"

She backed away, and the edge crumbled beneath her feet, sending her hurtling down, screaming.

"GRENDL! NOOOO!!!!" He ran to the edge, saw nothing but blackness, but he sensed the moment of her death. He turned to face Damian and the others. Raising the knife, he held them at bay. "This is finished," he said. "There will be no more sacrifices - or Druids. Grendl was going to be my wife. She was carrying my child. There is no future for me now - but I will choose the way I die, and it will not be at your hands." He spared a glance over his shoulder. "I will join Grendl. And we will meet again someday.

We will be together." He threw the knife at the crowd, swung around and threw himself over the cliff.

Damian walked to the edge, the knife in his hand, a sneer on his face. "You may find her again, Andemus. But you will NEVER have her - nor she you." He looked across the wind-swept, muddy river. "The winds of all eternity will blow your souls together and apart. Neither of you will know happiness with the other. EVER!!"

By the year's end, the Romans outlawed the Druids throughout all of England. Damian was caught disobeying the orders and hanged.

6


Chapter Two

Bedford, America Colonies 1692

Miranda Duval had just arrived at Judah Zachary's house on the edge of the small village when she heard a knock on the door and the sound of a horse being ridden away.

On the front step lay a wrapped package with Judah's name on it. Judah came from the back of the house.

"Miranda. I thought I heard you arrive." His dark eyes fell on the package in her hands. "What is that?"

"It was left at the door," she told him.

He took it from her and set in on the table to open it. His frown was replaced by a look the blonde woman could never recall having see before on his face. Was it possibly - fear? The package contained the shattered remnants of a child's china doll and a piece of paper. She got a glimpse of the brief message. "The time has come. A.F."

"What does it mean, Judah?" she asked.

His features written in stone, he crumpled the paper in his fist, then took the package to the fire, throwing it in, ignoring her question.

"Judah, who is A.F.?" she asked again, only to receive a chilling look from him.

"No one you should know, my dear. Jamie!" he called to a servant.

"Yes, Master Zachary?"

"Go to the docks. Find out if the Sea Witch out of Martinique is in port - and if her captain is on board."

"Right away, Master Zachary."

"And - Jamie - be discreet."

"I will be." He left.

"You are afraid of this man, aren't you?" Miranda asked.

"He is an enemy," Judah admitted. "A powerful one."

"More powerful than even you?"

"Quite possibly. But I have something he does not have."

Miranda understood. "The mask of Baal. Perhaps I could - help you set a trap for him - " she offered, only to have him turn that dark gaze on her again.

"No," he said, his voice firm. "You will have nothing to do with Aaron For-sythe, Miranda. Nothing at all."

Aaron Forsythe watched the rat-faced little man talking to someone on the docks, saw that man point to the Sea Witch. Soon after the questing man departed, Aaron walked down the gangway to the dock. "Can I help you, Cap'n?"
"Most probably. That man you just spoke to. Do you know him?"
The old sailor snorted. "Sure 'nuff. Mos' ev'rybody knows Jamie."
"What did he want to know?"
The old man rubbed his stubbled chin. "Not rightly sure I can remember, Cap'n. Memory's not what it used t'be."
Aaron placed a handful of silver on the barrel between them. "Will this restore your memory?"
Casting a greedy glance at the coin, he grinned. "He asked me about the Sea Witch"
"What about her?"
"When she'd come into port, if her cap'n was aboard."
"I see. Who does this Jamie work for?"
This time the man gave out a wheezing laugh. "That be somethin' else ev'rybody knows. He works for Judah Zachary."
"Thank you for your help," he said, tossing a gold piece atop the silver before returning to his cabin on the ship. So Judah had recognized the meaning of his gift. Excellent. For six years, Aaron had waited,
biding his time before avenging Elsbeth's death. His junior by only a year, his sister had left England at his side ten years before when their brother Philip had suggested that he leave or face a murder charge. Aaron had not killed that girl, had known that his younger brother was responsible, but to avoid a scandal, Aaron had left his homeland for Martinique. Philip was now the Earl, and Aaron found he didn't care. He enjoyed his life on the Sea Witch.

On his first voyage north from Martinique, Elsbeth had met Judah Zachary. Aaron, having heard the many rumors about the man's dark practices, tried to warn her, but it was too late. Elsbeth had been under Judah's spell. Aaron had been left with no choice but to leave her in Bedford, visiting her on subsequent voyages.

But six years ago, she had not been anywhere he had searched, and Judah had tried to say that she had left Bedford to return to England. Knowing as he did how much Elsbeth hated their brother, Aaron had refused to believe the story, and had finally found a member of Judah's coven who admitted to Aaron that his sister had never left: she had died in one of Judah's black ceremonies - a sacrifice.

Furious, Aaron had confronted the man and sworn revenge. Judah, arrogant as always, had laughed.

"I do not fear you, Forsythe. I fear no man."

"Laugh now, Zachary. I can wait for vengeance. When you have it all, and truly believe that no man can touch you, I will topple you and crush you like - a china doll."

Aaron had not returned to Bedford in those six years, but he had spies here. Spies who reported that Judah thought himself all-powerful, above even the witch tribunals. Aaron's own powers, learned on the islands, were at their zenith, and the time would never be better.

The spies also told him of the young woman who had replaced Elsbeth in the coven. A beautiful blonde with big blue

eyes. He would destroy her as well, Aaron decided.

Miranda was on her way to Judah's house to attend the coven when a horse was ridden into her path. She looked up into a pair of laughing hazel eyes that made her heart stop beating and then start again at a faster pace. "Excuse me, sir. I must -"

"You must talk to me," he said. He was dressed in fine clothes, she noted.

"I do not speak to strangers, sir."

"We may not know the names, but we are not strangers. You and I could never be that." Aaron was surprised by his reaction to this blonde beauty. His usual preference was for dark hair and eyes. But something about this woman drew him like the sea drew a sailor.

"You are too forward, sir. Allow me to pass."

Aaron laughed, then reached down with no warning to lift her onto the horse in front of him. "There. That is much better, is it not?"

"No!" she said, struggling to free herself. "You are mad!" she declared. "Release me. If I am seen-"

"You do not care what others think. I can tell that. We are alike in that way."

"Let me down!!"

"Ah, spirited as well. I like that in a woman. Allow me to take you to your destination. Such a lovely woman should not be walking alone on a deserted road."

"I can take care of myself, sir. I will say it only once more: Release me."

"When we reach your destination," he said with a smile, trying to charm her out of her anger. "Come now. The sooner you tell me which direction, the sooner you will be rid of my company."

With a deep sigh of aggravation, Miranda clenched her jaw. "That way."

"It truly troubled you to give in, did it not? We will go." He set the horse in motion, and shortly they came to the house he knew was Judah Zachary's. Aaron slid from the

8
saddle, then lifted the girl down. "You were coming to this house?" he asked, his eyes narrowed as they looked at her.

"Yes," she said, gathering her skirts to run inside. "I must go before -"

Aaron put a hand on her arm to detain her. "Before what?"

The door of the house opened, and a tall, dark figure came down the path. He didn't raise his voice, but Miranda could hear the leashed fury. "Miranda."

"Judah. I was - just going inside." The look he sent the other man set warning bells off inside her head.

Aaron leaned against the gate. "Hello, Zachary."

"Forsythe."

Miranda's blue eyes grew wide. "You are - Captain Forsythe?'

He bowed, humor back in his hazel eyes. "Captain Aaron Forsythe, at your service, Mistress Miranda." He could easily read the confusion in those blue eyes before she turned and dashed into the house. "She's very beautiful, Zachary. Even more so than Elsbeth. Do you plan the same fate for her?" All trace of humor had vanished.

"I explained that it was Elsbeth's decision, Forsythe. I did not force her to participate in that ceremony. She wanted to -"

"Because she knew it was what you wanted her to do."

"She loved me."

"It was not love, Judah. It was fear. As well as the promises you made to her. Did you receive my message?"

Judah blinked, temporarily startled by the change of subject. "The doll? Yes. I received it. A rather - crude warning."

"But effective?"

Judah ignored his question. "How long will you be in Bedford?

Aaron swung into the saddle. "As long as it takes for my sister to rest in peace, Judah. Tell Miranda that I will be seeing her." He spurred his horse into a gallop.

Miranda had watched the exchange from a window, and when the Captain rode away and Judah turned toward the house,

she hurried to a chair and sat down. Judah wasted no time upon entering. "Where did you meet him?" he demanded to know.

"On the road. I had no idea who he was -"

"Yet you accepted a ride?"

"He gave me no choice, Judah. He would not let me pass, and then he lifted me onto the horse and refused to let me go. Perhaps if I had used my powers -"

"Your powers would have been useless against him. You are not to see him again, my dear. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I have no reason to see Captain Forsythe." And she meant it - in her mind. But her heart kept reminding her of the intense look in Aaron's hazel eyes, and the way his face would become gentle when he smiled. Stop this, she told herself. Aaron Forsythe is Judah's enemy. You owe everything to judah. Forget the captain.

"Hello, Miranda," Aaron said softly as she left the dressmaker's. It had been a week since their first meeting, and he had seldom been far from her thoughts - or she from his.
Seeing him now, in person, made her pulse quicken, but she forced her voice into polite coolness. "Captain." She made to pass him, but Aaron was too quick, blocking her way.
"May I walk with you?" "I would rather you not, sir." "Because Judah might find out?" "He would," she said with certainty. "Meet me somewhere." "For what reason?" she asked. Without touching her, he compelled her to look at him. "I want to talk to you. To get to know you."
She was tempted to throw caution to the winds. The thought of being with Aaron made her light-headed. "No. No, I cannot risk it. Judah has many spies -"
Now he placed a finger lightly beneath her chin. "Miranda, are you in love with Judah?"
"I - thought I was. But now -I am not certain of anything."

"Because of me?"

"Captain, please. Let me pass. If Judah discovers that I spoke to you-"

"If he ever tried to harm you, Miranda, you must promise to go to the SEA WITCH and tell me."

"It is not my welfare that concerns me at the moment. It is yours."

"Judah Zachary cannot harm me - unless he harms you."

She raised wide eyes to his. "Are you truly so powerful?"

"Some think so." His eyes grew serious. "Meet me. I will go anywhere you name."

Miranda could no longer resist the attraction between herself and the handsome sea captain. Lowering her voice, she said, "There is a hidden cove not far from here to the south. There is an abandoned fishing shack. Be there at dusk."

"How will you get away?"

"I will tell Judah that Mistress Pearce wishes me to stay in tonight, so I cannot attend the meeting."

"I will be waiting," he told her.

Judah agreed not to require Miranda's presence at the meeting. "You are right to tell me about it. Mistress Pearce must be kept happy since her husband is one of the town aldermen. Stay home for this one night."

"If you wish. I think I should tell you before another does - Captain Forsythe spoke to me in town today."

"What did he say?"

"He tried to warn me against you. I did not listen to him."

Judah touched her cheek. "Loyal, beautiful Miranda. You are my greatest creation, you know."

Her insides were shaking as she departed Judah's house. Never before had she lied to him. About anything.

Aaron was already in the one-room shack when Miranda arrived, as he had promised. Words were unnecessary as blue eyes met hazel. Aaron held out his arms and Miranda went into them as if she had done so countless times before. There was an uncertainty in the air, the knowledge that these stolen hours might very well be their only ones if Judah discovered this meeting.

"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," Aaron told her as they sat wrapped in a quilt before the small fire he lit in the grate.

Her blue eyes sparkling with contentment, Miranda looked down. "I daresay you have seen many woman, Captain Forsythe."

He laughed softly at her formal address, considering how close they were. "None with hair like sunshine and eyes the colour of sapphires. You should have a necklace of sapphires."

"I have no jewels," she told him. "A simple maid cannot afford such things."

His laughter was still evident. "You, my beautiful Miranda, are in no way a 'simple maid'. You will have jewels and silks -I am certain that Judah promised you those things."

"In the beginning." She frowned. "Aaron, is Judah the reason for - ?'                v

He met her look. "No. I would have wanted you no matter what. I did not know who you were on the road that day. How did you become involved with Judah?"

Miranda sat forward and gazed deeply into the fire. "We met when I was on my way to church meeting with my aunt. I lived with her after my mother died."

"What of your father?"

"He was a sea captain - he was lost when I was little more than a babe." She smiled when he squeezed her hand. "My aunt was a spinster who spent her time working as a seamstress or reading her Bible. She had no notion of how to raise a child."

"She was no doubt jealous of your beauty."

10
"I think you are right. She tried everything she could to hide it, but nothing worked. I had heard the stories about Judah, knew there was another way than my aunt's. When he began to call on me, she warned me about him, but I would not listen to her."

The story sounded familiar to Aaron. He rested his chin on her head. "What happened to her?"

"She - died. Her heart - just - stopped beating one night."

"On its own, or did it have help?" "Are you suggesting that Judah killed her?" she asked, turning to look at him. "It is something to consider." "Why do you hate him so?" Aaron's eyes moved to the flames. "I have my reasons." Then he smiled, looking at her again. "Let us talk no more of Judah Zachary. Instead, I will tell you about Martinique."

When Aaron left the shack before dawn, he returned to the Sea Witch and penned a letter. Sealing it, he called to his cabin boy. "Henri."

"Oui, Capitan?"

"I want you to take this letter directly to the home of Amadeus Collins. Leave it there and return. I need no reply."

The young man smiled. "Right away," he promised and was gone. Aaron sat back, thinking. Elsbeth would be avenged. And Miranda would soon be free of Judah Zachary forever. Amadeus Collins was one of the judges in the witch tribunal. Once he read the letter in Henri's hand, Judah would be arrested and tried for practicing witchcraft.

"Judah," Miranda asked before the meeting began that night, "I have been thinking about my aunt of late."

"Indeed? Why should you think of her?"

"Her death - troubles me. She had never had a problem with her heart. Her health was always excellent. Did you -"

His voice was calm, detached, as if he were discussing something of no more importance than the weather, he said, "Cause the attack? Yes."

Struggling to imitate his calm demeanor, she asked, "Why?"

"She wanted to keep us apart. She spoke of sending you to a cousin in England. I could not allow that. Surely you understand, my dear."

"Yes, Judah," she said quietly. "I understand. Perfectly."

The members were beginning to assemble for the coven, and Judah moved toward the altar. Once there, he began invoking the powers of darkness. Suddenly the room was filled with torches and shouts. A musket was fired into the air. Most of the coven escaped in the confusion, but Judah was held fast and surrounded.

"What is the meaning of this outrage?!" he demanded to know of his captors.

"You are to be put on trial on the morrow," a big, burly man said. "Tribunal's orders."

Judah did not struggle, but said calmly, "I will accompany you peacefully. You may release my arms."

Miranda hid in a nearby copse, watching as they led Judah away, then made her way to the docks.

Aaron awoke to a tapping on the cabin door. Pulling on his robe, he called, "Who is it?"

"Henri, Capitan. There is a woman here who says she must speak with you."

Pulling open the door, he found Miranda in the passageway. "Miranda. Thank you, Henri. See that the lady and I are not disturbed."

"Oui, Capitan."

Miranda wandered around the cabin, examining some of Aaron's treasures before announcing, "Judah was arrested."

"When?"

"An hour ago. At the meeting."

11
"You were there?"

"Yes. Most of us escaped. I hope he is hanged," she said vehemently.

Aaron's cautious elation dimmed. "This is a turnabout. May I ask the reason?"

"I asked him about my aunt's death. He admitted causing her death. I may not have liked the woman, but she was the only family I had. I never wanted her dead."

He watched her pace the small room. "I am sure you did not. But hanging will not be Judah's fate."

"The tribunal will not burn witches, Aaron."

"There is a special end awaiting Judah Zachary, Miranda."

"If he is found guilty."

"You doubt it?"

"No one will testify against him. His power is too great. As long as he possesses the Mask -"

"Ah yes. The Mask of Baal. Do you know where it is, Miranda?"

She shook her head. "He told no one where he hides it."

"We must find it if he is to be defeated. Where could it be? Think very carefully."

Over the next week, it appeared that Miranda's prediction was coming to pass. No one would come forward to testify against Judah. There was talk that the judges would be forced to set him free in another day unless someone stepped forward. Hearing this, Aaron paid a call to the Pearce home. Mistress Pearce was out, Miranda told him, leading him into the parlour. "I am pleased you are here," she told him. "I was going to come see you this evening. I found the Mask," she said quietly. "It is hidden in my room."

"Excellent. You must take it to the judges - and you must also testify, Miranda," he told her, looking into her suddenly terrified face.

Her eyes widened with fear. "No. I cannot testify. I cannot."

"Why not?" Aaron grabbed her arms and turned her around. "Do you still love him?"

"No. No, of course not. It is you I love. But - Judah's eyes-"

"They can be covered. Amadeus Collins is on his way here to speak to you."

"Aaron, I -I am frightened."

He pulled her to his chest. "I know. Judah will not harm you. I will not let him. You must trust me, my love."

"I do. Will you stay when Master Collins arrives?"

"Yes. Go and bring the Mask here. And hurry. We have many things to discuss."

She let Amadeus Collins into the house, curtseying. "My mistress is not here at the moment, sir," she told the middle-aged man with watery blue eyes and a ring of greying blonde hair.

"It is not Mistress Pearce I wish to see. It is you - if you are Miranda Duval."

"I am she." She led him into the parlour, where Aaron waited by the fire.

Seeing him, Amadeus said, "May we speak alone?"

"I am Captain Aaron Forsythe, of Martinique, sir. Miranda and I are betrothed."

Master Collins' eyes narrowed. "Do you know Judah Zachary?"

"Only by reputation. I am not one of his followers, if that is your concern, Master Collins."

"And are you aware of this girl's - involvement with him?"

"I am."

Apparently satisfied, the judge turned his pale blue gaze on Miranda. "You are no doubt aware that the trial is not progressing well. No one will come forward to testify against Zachary."

"You're not going to release him?" she said fearfully.

12
"We may have no choice. But if he is released, we shall begin by trying his followers - beginning with you."

"Me?"

"You are a known member of his coven. Mistress Pearce can attest as to your connection with Judah Zachary and that you have spent most nights away from this house, and she will do so - unless you agree to testify against him."

"Master Collins, I am not certain that I can do that - but I do have something that might help." She lifted the cloth-wrapped object from a table and carried it over to him.

Amadeus looked down at the gold and jewel encrusted mask in awe as well as fear. "Zachary has spoken of a Mask," he murmured.

"That is it. The Mask of Baal. It is a major part of his power. Will it help?"

"Yes, but it is not enough. A mask is not proof of witchcraft. You can provide that proof."

"You do not understand, Master Collins. If I were to speak against Judah with him sitting there, watching me, looking at me, I would be unable to utter a single word. He would destroy me."

Amadeus considered that for a moment. "His eyes could be covered with a dark cloth. Would that solve the problem?"

"Yes, but -"

Aaron placed a hand on her arm. "If she does testify, Master Collins, all charges against her would be forgotten?"

Collins turned to him. "If she leaves the village, yes."

"She was going away with me anyway, sir. Well, Miranda?"

She drew on Aaron's strength, for inside she saw shaking in terror. "I -I will testify against Judah Zachary, Master Collins."

"A very wise decision, young woman."

The  next  morning,  Judah's  hands were bound and a dark cloth tied over his

eyes. He stood in the box, listening carefully to every nuance of the judges' voices. Collins' voice was more confident today. Yesterday he had been a man on the verge of defeat.

"We have found a witness who will testify as to the accused's heinous crimes," Collins said. "Call the witness."

A witness? Judah thought. Who would dare testify? Who would dare risk my wrath? He did not have to wait long for the answer.

"How long have you been a member of Judah Zachary's coven?" Amadeus asked.

Judah listened carefully so he could identify the voice of the traitor. "Almost -four years."

Miranda!! She is betraying me! Telling the judges about Jonas Thome's death.

"He called me to his house and told me that Master Thorne was trying to create trouble for him in the village. Judah made a house of cards and spoke an incantation, calling Satan to help him. He said the card house was also the Thorne house, and the cards began to burn. Jonas Thorne and his family died that night in a fire that destroyed their house."

"Why did you not come to the authorities at that time?"

Through a red haze of fury, Judah burst out, "She is lying! That never happened! You are a liar, Miranda."

The accused will stand quiet," Collins instructed. "Answer the question, young woman."

"I did not dare tell anyone, sir. Judah - Judah said that if I ever told he would kill me."

"I tell you - she is lying! I refused to marry her and she is trying to punish me for it! Miranda, you do not know what you are doing!"

Shaking, Miranda looked at the judges. Amadeus nodded, and she ran from the room into the corridor where Aaron waited. He held her tightly, feeling the tremors that shook her as he listened to the judge order the blind-fold removed.

13
"Judah Zachary, it is the decision of this tribunal that you are guilty of practicing witchcraft. Although the usual punishment for this crime is death by hanging, it has come to our attention that it might not be effective in your case."

Judah heard a voice inside his head. A voice not his own. Aaron's voice. How did Elsbeth die, Judah? How?

Collins voice brought Judah back to the courtroom. "You will be beheaded, Judah Zachary. Your head will be placed on public display in the square as a warning to others of their fate if they follow your example. Your body will be buried in a secret location - along with the Mask of Baal."

At the realization that the Mask was in their hands, Judah's fury broke its bonds. He screamed, "MIRANDA!!" She had done more than testify against him, she had delivered him unto his enemies. "You will pay, Miranda! You will ALL pay!" His dark gaze swept the judges. "I set a curse on all of you. You will regret your decision of this day. You AND your families."

Aaron hurried Miranda from the building, straight to his cabin on the Sea Witch. There, he poured her a brandy and told her to lay down in his berth to rest. He drew the curtains and sat across the cabin, a watchful eye on her. He would not believe her safe until Judah was dead and the ship underway for Martinique. Aaron had no doubt that Judah would order retribution--but if he could get Miranda to Martinique, he was sure she would be safe. He still wondered at his instant attraction to her. A memory came, unbidden of Marie reading the cards long ago, revealing a past life about which Aaron could recall only bits and pieces. But Marie had seen a blonde woman in that life, he recalled now. Could it have been Miranda in another life as well?

"Aaron?"

Her soft voice brought him back to her, and he knelt beside the berth, taking her hand. "I am here, my love."

"Is it - truly finished?"

"It will be soon. We will set sail tomorrow morning."

"Must we stay?"

"I have to be certain that it is done, Miranda. You will stay here," he began.

"No. I would rather be at your side."

"That is where you belong," he told her, kissing her. She clung to him. "Oh, Miranda."

"Hold me. Never let me go."

"Never. You are mine, Miranda. You will always be mine." He pulled away slightly to look at her face. "I have something for you."

"What?"

"Stay there." He went across to open a cupboard door and removed a wooden box from inside. Raising the lid, he looked inside. "I bought this from a man who had just returned from the Orient. I did not know why I bought it. Perhaps I knew that I would meet you." He lifted a necklace of sapphires into the candlelight.

"Oh, Aaron. They are lovely."

"They match your eyes. Allow me to put them on." Even with her simple dress of rough cotton, the blue stones made her look like a queen. "When we reach Martinique, I will buy you silks and satins. No more cotton gowns for the woman I love."

She smiled at him. "Tell me again about your home there."

"It is a plantation named Belle Mer. The principal crop is sugar cane. The house faces the bay. You will love it there, Miranda. Things are different on the island. Society is not as rigid, and the natives use black magic - what they call voodoo - frequently."

She drew a pattern on his chest with her fingernail. "Will you continue to sail?"

"Not for awhile. I plan to eventually settle down and become a staid plantation owner."

Miranda's laughter was light and seductive. "I cannot picture you as being staid, my darling captain. Many other

14
things, yes. But never that. Thank you for the jewels."

"There will be more later," he promised. "You will have jewels to wear every day." He kissed her, allowing her to pull him into the berth beside her.

Judah stood ramrod straight on the raised platform, his eyes, cold and dark, staring ahead. There was a circle of people surrounding this place of death. Some were his followers.

The executioner held out a black hood. Judah shook his head, refusing it. Master of darkness. Help your faithful servant to defeat his enemies. Help me to show them the strength of your power. Help me, master of my soul, my mind.

Judah went to his knees and bent forward, placing his head on the block. Directly in his line of vision stood Miranda at Aaron's side. His gaze locked on their faces.

Aaron felt that dark gaze and placed an arm around Miranda to try and shield her from it. But she did not move. She seemed in a trance, her eyes locked with Judah's. "Miranda. Look at me." Still she did not move.

You will pay for your betrayal, said Judah's voice in her mind. For helping my enemy. This will not be the end. We will meet again. And when we do, I will be the victor.

"No," Miranda moaned softly. "NO."

"Miranda," Aaron spoke, shaking her gently. Her hold tightened as the axe fell. At that precise moment, Miranda collapsed like a marionette when the strings have been cut. Aaron lifted her into his arms, then took a final look at the lifeless body being moved away. "Damn you, Judah Zachary. May your soul rot in the Hell that spawned you."

Miranda woke in Aaron's cabin, feeling his chest beneath her cheek, noted the moonlight coming through the porthole. "Aaron?"

His hand caressed her waist. "I was beginning to fear that you were not going to wake."

"Judah?"

"He is dead. You fainted."

"I remember now. Is the ship moving?"

"We set sail immediately. I wanted to get you away from there."

She shuddered. "Judah's eyes. They seemed to be staring inside me. I could hear his voice in my mind. Saying that we had won this time, but next time--"

He felt her shudder. "It is over, Miranda. Judah is dead, and can no longer harm you. Think about me and our future in Martinique."

"What will it be like?"

He laid back, tangling his fingers in her blonde hair. "We will have a dress ball to introduce you to island society. Everyone will come to meet the mistress of Belle Mer."

Miranda's voice was dreamy. "I have never been to a ball."

"You will on Martinique. There is a ball at least once a week."

"Will your neighbors accept me, do you think?"

"I am sure of it. They are mostly French - I bought Belle Mer from a Frenchman with a big gambling debt. He returned to France, but his sister stayed on as my housekeeper. She preferred the island to her homeland. Madame Marie Bouchet is a marvel. I think you and she are kindred spirits. Marie has certain - minor powers, and she lives by the Tarot."

"Who else is there?"

"Some house servants, Jaques and Robert, both natives. The neighbors. Let me see..."

He spent the rest of the smooth passage telling her about the people she would meet. On the day they entered the harbour, Miranda stood at the railing as he pointed out the large white house high on the cliffs. "It is - beautiful," she told him.

"This it is a fitting setting for your own beauty. Come. We must make ready to go ashore."

15
They made landfall on the beach beneath the house, and climbed the steps hewn into the rock cliff. At the top, Miranda shook her head in amazement. "I have never seen so many flowers. It is like - like Paradise."

"It is probably the closest either of us will come to that place," Aaron commented. "Marie will most likely be at the door, waiting."

Marie Bouchet was not an attractive woman. Her features were too sharp, her hair an unbecoming shade of red-brown. But her smile was warm and welcoming. "Capitan. The cards told me you would return today - with a wife."

Aaron lifted Miranda's hand. "The cards were correct - as always, Marie. Allow me to present Miranda Forsythe. My wife. Miranda, Marie Bouchet."

Miranda hid her surprise at his introduction while the woman greeted her. "Madame Forsythe. Welcome to Belle Mer. It is time that M'sieur Capitan brought a woman into this house. And such a beautiful one. You have chosen well, Capitan."

"Thank you, Marie. I am glad you approve. I want you to send for the dressmaker. Miranda must have a new wardrobe. And you and she must make plans for a grand ball."

"Right away. I will have your cases seen to." She paused. "Your business was satisfactorily concluded?"

"He is dead," Aaron told her. Marie turned and left the room. Aaron pulled Miranda into his arms. "Did I not tell you she was priceless?"

Miranda pulled away. "Aaron, you told her that I am already your wife."

"You are," he insisted, holding her more tightly. "In my heart. As far as anyone here is concerned, we were married before setting sail from Bedford. And once I introduce you as my wife at the ball, the marriage will be as legal as any performed by clergy." His hazel eyes met hers. "Unless - you would prefer a wedding with all of the fal-der-rals -"

She placed a hand to his mouth to silence him. "No. I only want you."

He kissed her fingers. "Then it is settled. Marie can show you around the house later. Do you ride?"

"Yes. Judah - Judah taught me."

"Then we will go to the stables and choose a mount for you. Then I will give you tour of the plantation." He pulled her behind him into the foyer. "Marie!"

She came to the rail on the landing at the top of the wide stairs. "Oui?"

"Miranda and I are going for a ride. We will have dinner in our room."

"I have already ordered it so, Capitan," she said, smiling indulgently. "Enjoy your ride."

Aaron was pleased at the way his workers took to Miranda. The children looked up at her fair beauty with wondrous eyes. Miranda was the perfect wife for him, and the perfect mistress for Belle Mer. She was a strong-willed woman. Strong enough to run the plantation alone if necessary. There was much she had to learn before his next voyage. So very much.

And she was an apt, willing student. After only a week, she knew almost as much about the cane as if she had spent her entire life at Belle Mer. Leaving the house to Marie's excellent administration, she spent every possible moment with Aaron.

Those on the estate became used to seeing them riding together, and everyone could see how much in love they were. Even the match-making mamas could not deny it, even if Aaron's sudden marriage had destroyed hopes for their own daughters. No one could ever recall seeing the Captain so happy and light-hearted.

Those bright, sun drenched days were indeed the paradise Miranda had mentioned upon her arrival. The island inhabitants liked her, and her confidence had never been greater. She was happy, and three months after their arrival, she watched Aaron standing at the window of their

16
room, looking out at the bay. He had been looking out to sea often these last two days, she thought. Always when he thought himself unobserved.

She crossed to put her arms around his chest, pressing her cheek against his back. "You want to be out there."

"No," he answered quickly. Too quickly, perhaps. He turned into her arms.

"Oh, my darling. You have tried so hard not to let me see you looking out at the Sea Witch. We can set sail anytime, you know."

He shook his head. "I would - prefer that you remain here at Belle Mer."

"Why?"

"You will be safe here."

"And I would not be on the ship?"

He avoided her eyes and a direct answer. "It will soon be time for the harvest. I need you here to oversee it if I am not back."

"Aaron, do you think something is going to happen to you?"

"I do not know. Anything could happen. If I do not return-"

"Aaron!"

"If I do not return," he said again gently, "Belle Mer is yours."

Miranda's arms tightened. "Do not talk of such things. If you were lost, I would not want to go on. You must return, Aaron. And not just for my sake."

Aaron drew back enough to see her face. "What are you saying?"

She smiled tenderly. "That we have another to consider. Our child."

His eyes darkened. "You are certain?"

She nodded. "Marie saw it in the cards last week. They were correct."

"And did she happen to see if it was a son or a daughter?"

"A son."

His kiss was deep, soul rending. "I will return, Miranda. If there is any way, I will return to you here." He unfastened the gold chain and its fob from his vest. It had always fascinated Miranda, the fob being pure gold fashioned into a tiny replica of the

Sea Witch. "Take this as proof of my love and of my word that we will be together again."

She watched as he fastened the chain around her wrist to form a bracelet. The fob hung suspended like a talisman. "But - it is your good luck piece."

He smiled. "I want you to have it."

She waved him off from the top of the cliff, Marie by her side. When the ship rounded the point and was lost to sight, Marie put an arm around the younger woman's shoulders. "Come," she said. "We will return to the house. I will read the cards to see how long he will be gone from us."

Inside the house, Miranda stood at the window that overlooked the now empty bay, fingering the talisman as Marie began her reading.

"Yes. Yes, a good sign." Miranda was only half-listening until Marie gasped in horror. "NO!"

"What is it, Marie?" Miranda asked, coming to stand at the table.

"N-Nothing." She moved to pick up the cards, but Miranda's hand stopped her.

"Leave them, Marie." Miranda had learned quickly the meanings of the cards. She found Aaron, on his ship, surrounded by betrayal, danger, fire - and death.

"He has a powerful enemy, Madame."

"Judah is dead, Marie. Aaron and I saw him die."

"His body, yes. But one as evil as that one - the evil never dies. It infects others with its dark taint. This Judah, he had many followers?"

"There were thirteen in the coven," she said, shuffling the cards for another reading, then a third.

"It will not change, Miranda," Marie said softly as she took the cards from her mistress's cold hands. "The cards see the truth. Aaron will not return from his voyage. His enemy will destroy him."

She watched with worried eyes as Miranda stood and went to the window.

17
They were only three days away from returning home when the Sea Witch's crew was incited to mutiny by the spells and incantations of a new crew member - a follower of Judah Zachary. Barricaded in the hold, Aaron turned to the last remaining loyal crew members: Henri the cabin boy and Armand le Due, his second in command. "We will not get out of this alive," he told them, hearing the sounds in the corridor. "But they will not have my ship."

"You have a plan, my old friend?" Armand asked. After ten years of serving at Aaron's side, the Frenchman recognized the gleam in his captain's eye.

"I am going to scuttle the Sea Witch" he said calmly.

"Capitan!" Henri said, his eyes wide.

"Is there no other way, Aaron?"

"None. Drag those powder kegs here against the bulkhead. Set them in a row while I ready the fuses." As he set the fire alight, he said, "If either of you survive, tell Miranda what happened and that I love her."

"Oui, Capitan," Henri said shakily.

"Understood, my friend," Armand said solemnly.

Aaron stood with his pistol in one hand, saber in the other. "Open the door, Henri. And as soon as possible, make for the fore deck and get off of this ship."

The mutineers never noticed the slowly burning fuse. They were too busy fighting Aaron and Armand. Henri ducked out the door and ran onto the main deck. He had one leg over the rail when the powder exploded. The boy felt a searing pain in his leg, then was hurled into the cold water below.

Miranda looked up at the darkened horizon. "I heard thunder," she murmured.

Marie place her arm around her. "There is a storm brewing. Come in."

"No. The storm is in the opposite direction."

"Come in, Miranda -"

"He will return, Marie."

Marie pursed her lips in concern. The woman refused to believe the Tarofs prediction. Considering her condition, Marie thought it best to humor her. "Until he does, ma chere, you must think of the child."

Henri, suffering from shock, exposure, and a mortal wound in his leg, was plucked from the water a day later by an English ship bound for the island. He was delirious, and his wild claims of a mutiny on the Sea Witch were dismissed as the mad ravings of a dying man. It was widely known that Forsythe's crew was among the most loyal on the seas. But when the debris was spotted later that day, the story spread rapidly throughout the islands.

Miranda's son was still-born, three months premature. For weeks after, Marie sat with her mistress, concerned for her life and sanity. The one thing which seemed to calm Miranda was the golden chain and it's molded replica of the Sea Witch. "It is my only link to him now," she told Marie. "He knew it would happen. Knew."

"We must leave this place, Miranda." Marie's tone was serious.

"Leave Belle Mer? I cannot leave. Aaron will come to me here. He promised."

"It is not safe for you, Madame. I saw it in the cards. There is danger here for you. Unless you leave Martinique, you will die."

"How?"

"The cards did not reveal that. But the same enemy that stalked Aaron now stalks you."

"I no longer care, Marie."

Marie had known she would speak like that. "But you must. If - If Aaron is to return to you, you must be alive to welcome him."

"But, if I leave -"

"He will find you no matter where you are."

18


r-

Miranda's face set in thought. "Very well. I will sell Belle Mer. What was that man's name? The one who made the offer last month?"

"du Pres, Madame. Count du Pres."

"Yes. Send a message that I will accept his offer."

"Where will we go?"

"To - England, I think. I would like to meet my in-laws."

Philip Forsythe, the third Earl of Har-risbee, felt a twinge of conscience upon being informed of his brother's death, and allowed Miranda and her companion to reside in one of the family's houses. There, Miranda spent most of her time before the fire, the talisman in her hands.

After Marie died in 1738, Miranda made a decision. She made the decision to return to Martinique. She sent an agent to buy Belle Mer from the du Pres family, but they refused to sell.

When Miranda Duval Forsythe died on a rainy day in 1770, and was buried in the Forsythe family graveyard, the family felt

sad that she had never been able to return to her beloved Martinique.

Angelique Bouchard was born in Martinique in 1775, the daughter of a local folk healer and practitioner of voodoo. Angelique recalled her past life on the island at an early age, surprising her mother with her knowledge of the island - and of the du Pres plantation. At the age of fifteen, when her mother died, the Countess Natalie du Pres took pity on the child and hired Angelique to be her maid.

She was back at Belle Mer.

The only problem was that she had to play servant to the Countess and her niece, Josette. The two girls were the same age, each beautiful in their own ways. Josette was courted quite fiercely, ofttimes because of her father's great wealth. Using her powers, Angelique began to enjoy secretly stealing the auburn beauty's suitors.

But no one ever suspected that dear, quiet, helpful, Angelique was a witch.

Chapter Three

Martinique, 1795

Angelique Bouchard was straightening the room of her employer, the Countess, when the woman said, "We will be having a visitor soon, Angelique."

"A visitor, Countess?"

"Actually, he is coming to see my brother on business, but since Andre is still in Paris with Josette," she said of her niece, "and not due for another two months, it falls to me to keep him entertained."

"Is he important?"

"No doubt you have heard Josette speak of him. Barnabas Collins."

"The man with whom she has been corresponding for a year?"

"That is the one. His letters have helped her English, do you not agree?"

"Yes. Mademoiselle Josette believes she is in love with him," Angelique confided.

"I know. With a man she has never seen. But Josette was always the romantic. Still, a marriage to this Barnabas might not be a bad thing. I shall read the Tarot cards."

Angelique turned to hide her smile. There were many times when her mistress reminded her of dear Marie. Especially now, her head bent over the cards. Pretending ignorance, Angelique asked, "What do they say, Countess?"

"They are - unclear. Perhaps once I meet Monsieur Collins, I will see the answer."

When Barnabas Collins arrived, Angelique was on the landing with a clear view of the foyer. When she saw the tall, dark-haired man with hazel eyes, Angelique felt light- headed. Aaron, she thought, watching him greet the Countess. You did return. Just as you promised you would.

He looked up and their eyes met. But there was no recognition in them, only a quickly veiled admiration for a beautiful

woman. Following his gaze, the Countess spoke. "Ah. Angelique. Come down and be introduced to my guest. Mr. Collins, my maid, Angelique."

Knowing it was expected, Angelique curtseyed, feeling his eyes on her. He is attracted to me, she thought, but kept her eyes down. "M'sieu."

"Make certain that Mr. Collins' room is ready, Angelique."

"But of course, Countess." She turned and started back upstairs as the Countess slipped her hand through Barnabas' arm.

"Let us go into the drawing room, m'sieu, and I will tell you about my brother -and Josette."

In her room later, Angelique pulled the talisman from its hiding place. "Barnabas is your reincarnation, Aaron. I am sure of it. He does not remember. One look at this - " She stopped, closing her fingers around the golden ship, feeling its contours bite into the palm of her hand. "No. The time is not right. If I went to him now, he would not believe me. There is time. Now that I have found him again, I will not lose him. Most certainly not to Josette du Pres."

Barnabas stood by the window of his room later that evening, unable to sleep. He was haunted by a pair of blue eyes. A movement in the garden below drew his attention. There was a flash of moonlight on blonde hair. She was down there. It was a chance to speak to her alone, without the Countess' presence. Unless she was there to meet another man. That thought sent a surprising haze of jealousy through him. Shaking his head to clear it, he left the room and made his way quietly downstairs and out the garden doors.

She was beside a fountain on a terrace hidden from most of the house, surrounded by flowers. "Excuse me."

21
She turned, surprised, her blue eyes wide. "M'sieu Collins. You startled me."

"I did not mean to. I was unable to sleep and decided to take a walk." It was a lie, but he found himself loath to tell her that he had come down to see her.

"I always come down here at night after my mistress is in bed. It is the only time of the day that I can truly call my own."

"Would you prefer to be alone?"

"No. I do not mind the company."

Almost against his will, Barnabas reached up to lightly touch the brightness of her hair. "You are so beautiful."

Angelique moved away. "Please, m'sieu."

"What is wrong? I only spoke the truth."

"We should not be here. You are my mistress' guest, and I -I am but a servant."

"That does not matter. The fact that you are a servant makes you no less important than I." Her blue eyes were shining up at him. "Why is this happening? When I first saw you this afternoon, I felt - as it if had happened before. As if I had seen those blue eyes before. I wanted - " He stopped, afraid of frightening her.

"What did you want, m'sieu?" she asked softly.

"To hear you say my name."

She smiled. "That is very easy, m'sieu. Barnabas."

The feelings evoked by hearing her say his name were strong, and he fought the urge to pull her against him. "Oh, Angelique. This is madness."

"Is it?"

"Yes. Please. Forgive me. I have never acted this way before."

"I am sure you have not." It was happening too quickly, she realized, watching his confusion. It had happened quickly the last time as well, but Barnabas was not Aaron in one important way: He did not take what he wanted without regard for the consequences. But strangely enough, the realization deepened her growing feelings for Barnabas until they were at least as

strong as those for Aaron. In that moment, she knew she would never show him the talisman. "It is late, and I have work to do in the morning. Goodnight, M'sieu Collins."

"Goodnight, Angelique." Barnabas returned to his room soon after, but he still did not sleep until almost dawn, his mind still too full of Angelique's soft voice.

He saw her several times the next day, but she continually refused to meet his eyes, always lowering or averting her own. Unable to remain confined in the house with her so near, he went for a ride, but the memory of Angelique stayed with him.

He could barely recall what he had seen later when the Countess quizzed him. She laughed at his preoccupation, mistaking the reason for it. "No doubt you are anxious to meet my niece. The time will fly. Until then, enjoy the island."

Again finding himself unable to sleep, and he went to the terrace to wait. To wait for her. She came down the path and stopped. "Excuse me." She turned as if to go.

"Angelique, don't go. I hoped you would come."

She didn't turn. "Did you, m'sieu? Why?"

"I have not been able to get you out of my mind all day. Everywhere I looked, I saw you. Did you think of me at all?"

She took a deep breath. "Oh, yes, m'sieu."

"Stop calling me that, Angelique. It makes you sound like a servant."

"But that is what I am. A servant. A lady's maid. And you are a fine gentleman who thinks it good sport to flirt with the poor little servant."

"That is not true. I forget that you are a servant when I am with you."

She trailed her fingers in the water of the fountain. "Can you do that?"

"Yes."

"But you do not think of me as a lady, either. Else you would not be here now."

"Angelique, stop this -"

22
At last she looked up at him. "Can you deny that if I were a lady, you would not have come out into the garden after dark to see me?"

"Yes. Because I cannot stay away from you," he said, his voice deep with passion. "I need you." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her with more passion than he had intended. Concerned that he had frightened her, he started to pull away. "Forgive me -"

She placed a finger to his lips to silence him. "Do not apologize for doing what you wanted, Barnabas."

Seeing no fear in her eyes, Barnabas took her hand and kissed each finger, making her knees weak. He smiled at her quickly drawn breath.

Angelique considered her next words carefully. "I -I know of a place that is more private -"

She expected him to release her, to become concerned about her apparent willingness. But he continued to caress her fingers. "Where?"

"Follow me." She led him by the hand to a small summerhouse. This was her favorite place. No one ever came here anymore - except Angelique. She told him as much as he held the door open for her. "The Countess kindly agreed that I might use it. She seemed to understand that I needed a place where I would not be disturbed."

She lit a candle, revealing the chair and table, and the narrow bed against one wall. Barnabas said nothing, merely held out his arms, allowing her to make the final decision.

Angelique hesitated over the feeling that she was about to betray Aaron's memory. The thought brought home to her how totally she had managed to separate the two men in her mind. There was something very special about Barnabas.

She moved easily into his embrace and returned the passion of his kiss with an equal passion of her own. When his deft fingers unfastened the bodice of her dress, then slipped inside, Angelique moaned soft-

ly. Barnabas lifted her from the dress and into his arms, carrying her to the bed.

She lay there, watching him remove his own clothing, then lifted her arms to him. Barnabas devoured her white, waiting body with his eyes before lowering himself to the bed as well, wanting to feel her silken form beneath him.

Later, much later, in her room in the house, Angelique forced herself to admit that she had never responded to Aaron as she had to Barnabas. Closing her eyes, she could still remember how out of control she had been at his touch. Nothing had mattered save she and Barnabas. And it had been the same for him. Angelique was certain that when Barnabas left for his home, she would be at his side.

They met almost every evening for the next two months. Their passion for each other never wavered; if anything it grew stronger. Some nights they talked more than they made love. Barnabas told her about his family, his home in Collinsport. He seemed closest to his mother, his sister Sarah, and his uncle Jeremiah. Angelique listened carefully, learning all she could about these people. She wanted to make Barnabas proud of her. In return, she told him a little about her own mother, who had been a healer who used the local herbs for her cures. Barnabas sensed that her childhood had not been a happy one, and wanted her future to be better. He decided that he would take her back with him. To leave without her at his side would be unthinkable. She was a part of himself that he had been missing. As soon as his business with Andre du Pres was completed, he would ask her to marry him.

He was on the stairs, en route to the stables for a ride when the front doors opened and Andre du Pres entered the house, calling his sister's name loudly. A small, fragile-looking young woman was in his wake, her auburn hair done in the latest

23



style, her clothes with the mark of a Paris couturier. She looked so small and fragile that Barnabas felt an overwhelming need to protect her. She looked up and saw him, a small smile lighting her already lovely face. "Natalie!!"

"Here I am, Andre. There is no need to shout the house down." She pressed her cheek to his, then turned to her niece. "Josette. Oh, I have missed you, mon enfant." "Aunt Natalie. I missed you too." Her gaze strayed to the man on the stairs once again.

Natalie followed that gaze and smiled satisfactorily. She had been certain that one look at Josette and Barnabas would be smitten. Everyone was. "Barnabas," she said, extending a hand to him in invitation.

"Good morning, Countess." He took the final steps to the bottom.

"Barnabas Collins, my brother, Count Andre du Pres."

"Mr. Collins." "Count du Pres." "Andre, please." "And his daughter, Josette." Barnabas took her hand and bowed over it. Her smile was shy. "I cannot possibly call you other than Barnabas," she said in halting English. "Not after all the letters."

He returned her smile, bowing over her hand. "I agree. You are even lovelier than I imagined you to be."

She blushed prettily, laughing softly. "Thank you."

Angelique watched Barnabas with Josette from the kitchen doorway and fought the tide of jealousy that rose within her. Barnabas had to pay court to Josette for business reasons, she reminded herself, moving forward. "Ma'mselle Josette?"

"Oh, Angelique," she cried, hugging her maid tightly, reverting to French. "I have so much to tell you about Paris."

Natalie smiled. "Why do you not both go upstairs and have your little chat? It will give Barnabas and Andre a chance to talk about business.

Following Josette upstairs, Angelique paused on the landing to see Barnabas still looking up at them. In Josette's room, Angelique dutifully put away her mistress' travelling cloak, then began to repair the hairstyle, listening to Josette's soft voice.

"He is wonderful, is he not?" she asked dreamily, still speaking in French.

Keeping her features carefully held to blank politeness, Angelique responded, "Who, ma'mselle?"

"Barnabas, of course. And so handsome."

"I had not noticed. Tell me about Paris. What is it like?"

"Oh, it is wonderful Perhaps on our next trip, Aunt Natalie will allow you to accompany me." She never realized that her maid had deliberately changed the subject.

Andre liked Barnabas, liked discussing business with the younger man. He had a sharp, quick mind. Most of all, Andre liked the way that Josette had blossomed since meeting him. They rode together every morning - properly chaperoned, of course -and Andre had high hopes for a match between his daughter and Barnabas Collins.

Barnabas' assignations with Angelique became less frequent as his confusion grew. He could easily read the hurt and anger in Angelique's blue eyes when no one else was watching, but he was uncertain of what he should do.

His decision to marry Angelique was no longer as clear as it had been. Josette would be readily accepted by his family -particularly his father. Joshua wanted him to return with a contract between the Collins Shipyards and Andre du Pres, and he did not care what his son did to achieve that goal. Barnabas was fond of Josette. She needed to be protected, and he wanted to give it. He was equally sure that his father would never accept Angelique. She would forever be a penniless servant in his eyes. Barnabas knew how difficult his father could make a person's life. What he and An-

25
gelique felt now would ultimately be poisoned by Joshua's anger. He loved her, but he could not see himself putting her through the hell Joshua would make for them at Collinwood.

He reined his horse to a stop and looked around. In the two months since Josette's return, this was the first morning he had ridden alone, and he found that he missed her company. Marriage to her would not be so bad, he thought. As for Angelique, he would put an end to their relationship when he left Martinique. They would never meet again. She would find another - the thought of Angelique in another man's arms caused him great pain, but Barnabas forced himself to bury those feelings. For her sake as well as his.

Angelique went as usual to her hideaway, not really expecting Barnabas to join her. Josette was certain that he planned to speak to the Count soon and ask for Josette's hand. There was fire in Angelique's blue eyes when she opened the door - but it changed from anger to passion when she saw Barnabas already there.

"I did not think you would be here," she told him, resting her head against his chest.

He held himself rigid as he spoke. "I had to come. I have made a decision and I wanted to tell you about it before someone else did." There was something about his voice that made Angelique go cold. She lifted her head, eyes questioning.

Unable to tell her while looking into those exquisite eyes, Barnabas pulled away and crossed to the other side of the room. "I am going to ask Josette to marry me," he said quietly.

Angelique folded her arms at her waist, trying to control the pain and anger his words caused. A jealous rage would do no good. "I cannot pretend surprise. After all, how can a mere servant possibly compete with a lady like Miss Josette? I have nothing to give you - except my love. Evidently that is not enough for you."

He turned her to look at him. "Angelique," he said, his voice tortured, "the reasons for my decision are complicated. I am not sure I understand them fully myself. But it is the only decision I can make."

"Of course. What - What will happen to me?"

"Once I have left, you will find someone else. Someone who can give you more than I am free to give."

"I do not want someone else, Barnabas. I want only you."

"Please, Angelique. Do not make this anymore difficult than it is."

She closed her eyes for a moment. "As you wish. Will I - continue to see you until you leave?"

"I don't - " he began, but she interrupted him,

"Oh, I know I should have pride enough not to ask, but I have no pride where you are concerned." She touched his arm. "Is it so much to ask? These last few weeks?"

The soft glitter of tears in her beautiful eyes was Barnabas' undoing. Gently, he drew her into his arms. "No. No, it is not. I will be here when I am able. Stop crying," he said softly, raising her face with the intention of wiping away the tears. But the nearness of her made him lower his mouth fully onto hers...

"You wished to speak to me, Barnabas?" Andre asked.

Barnabas stood before the man's desk. "Yes, sir. I would like to marry your daughter."

"Have you asked her?"

"Not yet. I preferred to speak to you first."

The Count's eyes narrowed. "Why do you want to marry her?"

"Because I love her, sir," he answered. In a way, it was true. What he felt for Josette was love. Oh, not the heart-stopping, soul-destroying feeling he had for Angelique, but a quieter, more comfortable feeling. Perhaps, he considered, it was the better of the two.

26
"It is certainly no secret how she feels about you," Andre said, rising and staring up at the portrait of Josette's mother. "Very well. You have my permission to speak to Josette."

"Thank you, sir."

He heard feminine voices in the garden, and realized that Angelique was there with Josette. Barnabas hesitated before approaching the stone bench where they sat doing needlepoint and talking in French. Two such different women - and he was drawn to both. Angelique glanced up and saw him. She must have read his face, or perhaps she read his mind, for she rose to her feet.

"M'sieu Collins," she said with a curtsey.

"Barnabas," Josette said, turning to see him. "I thought you still locked with Papa in his study."

"I have just come from there." He could not look at Angelique. "Josette, may I speak with you? Alone?"

Angelique gathered up the sewing material and curtseyed again. "I will go and see if the Countess has work for me. Pardon, M'sieu." She slipped past him toward the house.

Barnabas successfully fought the temptation to watch her go, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on Josette. She indicated the bench she had shared with her maid. "Please. Join me."

"Thank you."

"I think Angelique is a bit in awe of you," Josette confided.

"What do you mean?"

"She seldom stays in the room long when you enter. She denies it, of course. I wonder if Aunt Natalie could be right about her?"

Against his will, Barnabas asked, "About what?"

"She seems to think that Angelique has a young man. Someone in town, most likely.

"Most likely."

"I hope she has found someone. I would miss her, of course. She has been more like a sister than my maid."

"Josette," Barnabas began, then paused to regain his temper. He did not want to discuss Angelique - certainly not with Josette. "Might I change the subject?"

"If you wish, Barnabas." She sat there, watching him expectantly.

Barnabas took a deep breath. "When we began exchanging letters last year, I sensed that you were a very special young woman. Gentle, kind, sensitive. Meeting you has proven me correct." He took her hands in his. "Josette, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Barnabas -"

"Before you answer, I want you to know that I do love you. I want nothing more than to take care of you for the rest of your life."

"I was beginning to think that you would never ask," she said, then smiled shyly. "I know that is an unforgivably forward thing for me to say, but - I love you too, mon cher. I loved you even before we met. Yes, Barnabas, I will marry you."

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her gently. There was none of the blazing passion in his heart that Angelique evoked there - but in its place was a fierce protectiveness for the woman in his arms. Josette will never have cause to regret this marriage, he promised himself. Once they were at Collinwood, he would force himself to forget Angelique and concentrate solely on loving Josette.

Arrangements were made for Josette and her father to leave the same day as Barnabas to return to Paris in order for Josette to purchase her trousseau, then go straight to Collinsport. Disliking sea voyages, the Countess decided to travel by ship only as far as the Eastern coastline of America, then travel by carriage from there. She planned to stop in New York awhile, arriving at Collinsport a week before the wedding.

27
On the night before his departure, Barnabas paid a final visit to the summer-house. Angelique steadfastly refused to wish him good-bye, and their lovemaking was better than ever. Or perhaps it only seemed so to Barnabas since it would be the last time he would ever hold her in his arms.

After he had gone the next day, Angelique was ironing one of the Countess' gowns when she felt suddenly faint. Sitting, she began to think things out. She could not hide the truth from the Countess much longer. Why had she not told Barnabas? Thank goodness her condition was not at all noticeable - but then it had not been the last time either. But this time would be different, she promised. This child would be born alive and well.

Her plans were easy to make. She would accompany the Countess as far as New York, then send word to Barnabas that she was there and needed to see him. Surely when he knew about the child he would end his engagement to Josette. Until then, she had to continue her work. Under no circumstances could she risk the Countess discovering her secret.

A week later, Angelique was descending the main stairs when the dizziness returned. She lost her footing and fell to the floor, unconscious, where Natalie du Pres found her. The woman sent for the doctor, but he had not arrived when Angelique opened her eyes in her own bed. "Be still, petite."

"Countess?"

"Do you remember what happened?" There was concern in her eyes, and something else.

"I - fell, did I not?" She placed a hand to her abdomen, closed her eyes to prevent the tears from escaping. She would not cry.

"Why did you not tell me about the child, Angelique?" Natalie asked softly. There was no condemnation or judgement of any kind in that tone./

"I -I had planned to leave before - It does not matter now."

"What about the father?

That was the question Angelique had been dreading. "He is - gone," she said truthfully. "A - sailor I met in town. I do not think he will be returning."

Natalie was thoughtful. "You are not the sort of girl who listens to a man's pretty words and simply believes them. You must love him very much."

"Yes. I do love him. As I said, it does not matter. I have lost the child -"

"Not yet. But the fall was a bad one. You are lucky to be alive yourself."

"I almost wish I was not."

"Do not say such things. Rest. I will go wait for the doctor."

Late that evening, Angelique's second son was born, dead. The doctor assured her that she could have more children someday, then left her alone as she requested.

The tears she shed were for more than the death of a child. Her hope that Barnabas would marry her was also dead, she thought. But out of her sorrow, Angelique's determination to have Barnabas grew to obsessive proportions. She forced herself back to work - over the Countess' concerned objections.

"You are still too ill, Angelique. I will take another with me to Josette's wedding."

"Oh, Countess, no. Unless - you are dismissing me? I could understand. I have been very foolish and stupid. I will not be again," she promised her mistress - and herself.

"I have no intention of dismissing you, Angelique. I only thought you would need more time to recover -"

"Work is the best medicine for me at the moment. I would prefer to forget what happened. And I would so like to attend Ma'mselle Josette's wedding."

"Very well. You may go with me."

"Thank you, Countess. May I ask something else of my lady?"

"Of course."

28
"I would prefer no one else know about... Especially Ma'mselle Josette. It would only upset her."

"I understand. It will be between us. Now. There is much to be done before we leave for Collinsport. What an unimaginative name. I hope it is not an omen of what Barnabas' family is like."

By the time the carriage was approaching Collinwood, Angelique was fully recovered. She was a bit thinner, but not noticeably so. "These roads!" the Countess exclaimed as they were jolted by yet another bump. "Pig sties would be better. If we do not reach Collinwood soon, I shall not survive the journey," she said dramatically. She peered out the small window at the gloom. "If it would only stop raining. Such a grey, colourless place. I cannot picture my Josette living in such a place. There are no flowers."

"You are homesick, my lady."

"Yes. I am." The carriage jerked to a halt and lurched drunkenly to one side. "What now?!" She straightened her hat, a huge feather and flower filled monstrosity.

Minutes passed before the driver came to the door. "Pardon, ma'am, but the carriage is stuck in the mud."

"Sacreblu! How far is Collinwood?"

"Not far, ma'am. Just a short walk up the road -"

"Surely you are not suggesting that I walk in the mud and the rain, my good man?"

"Uh, 'course not. I'll go -"

"And leave us here unprotected and defenseless?"

Angelique was grateful that the dark interior hid her smile at the thought of the Countess believing herself defenseless with that sharp tongue. "I will walk to Collinwood, my lady, and fetch help."

"Are you sure you should?" She could see that the Countess still had doubts about her recovery.

"Quite sure, my lady." The driver helped her out onto a grassy verge.

"There's a path just up the road," he told her. "It will take you right to Collinwood. No way you can miss it."

"Thank you."

"Hurry, Angelique," the Countess called. "Do not dawdle. If I stay out here in this damp much longer I will be quite ill."

"I am on my way," she called back, setting out. She never felt the rain on her cloak, so happy was she to at last be here. When she saw the house - it was just as Barnabas had described it - she ran to the front door and lifted the heavy brass knocker, rapping three times. Would he answer the door? Would he be surprised to see her? Would he be glad to see her?

The door opened, and there he was. He was glad to see her, but the look was just as quickly hidden. Angelique understood the need to be discreet. She could wait until he came to her room later. "Barnabas."

"Angelique. What - ?"

"You are surprised."

"Astonished." He recovered his composure. "We weren't expecting the Countess for at least a week. Where is she? And - why are you walking?"

"Your roads, m'sieu. Pig sties, the Countess calls them. The carriage is in the mud. Stuck."

"Where?"

"Too far for my lady to walk."

"I must go immediately. Come in. You must be wet." She entered the house and saw the older man in the drawing room. Stern faced, very proper, she decided. "Father, this is Angelique - the Countess du Pres' maid. This is my father, Angelique."

She curtseyed. "M'sieu Collins." She could tell from the look on his face that he already dismissed her as an ordinary servant.

"Your mistress wrote and told us she would be visiting New York until the day before the wedding," Joshua Collins said.

"The city does not suit my lady."

"Well, I wish we had known she had changed her plans. Barnabas, fetch one of

29
the stable boys - or Ben. I will see that the rooms are made ready."

"Will you see that Angelique is shown to her room?"

She was not going to let him be rid of her company just yet. "No. I will return with you."

Barnabas looked down at her. "It isn't necessary."

"It may not be to you, sir, but it is to my mistress."

She saw the flash of anger in his hazel eyes, quickly banked. "Then very well. Come the back way to the stables."

She curtsied again to Joshua Collins. "It is a great privilege to be in your home at last, M'sieu." Turning, she followed Barnabas to the stable, a secret smile on her face.

He ignored her until the stableboy was on his way to the carriage, then walked beside her down the sodden path, his eyes searching ahead of them. "I did not expect you to accompany the Countess."

"I wanted to come," she said simply.

"I wish you hadn't." Nothing more was said.



30
Chapter 4

Collinwood, 1971

Barnabas stood aloof from Julia and Stokes as they wondered aloud where everyone was. He said the right words, but the only thing on his mind, the only thing he could see, was Angelique's face.

"Barnabas. Julia." Elizabeth's tone was mildly scolding. "Really. The three of you are impossible. You're very late." "Late for what?" Julia asked. "Have you forgotten? The opening of the Historical Center. I wouldn't have come back, but Roger forgot his speech. Now hurry. Eliot, I know that Barnabas and Julia are always preoccupied, but it's not like you to forget something you've been planning so long."

Eliot managed to look apologetic. "I'm sorry, but it slipped my mind."

Julia asked the question that was uppermost in her mind. "Are David and Hallie there, Elizabeth?"

"Yes. Of course," she responded, searching the desk for the forgotten speech.

Barnabas' mind was readjusting itself slowly to 1971. "And Quentin and Carolyn?" "Where else would they be?" "Where indeed?"

"Here it is. So like Roger. He hates making speeches. Why are you all staring at me so strangely?"

Julia smiled. "It's just so nice to see you, Elizabeth."

"Thank you. It's really been a warm and cozy winter, hasn't it? So calm and peaceful. I've quite enjoyed it. Shall we go? You can drive in with me."

"We'd be delighted," Stokes assured her, moving with her into the foyer as she told him about finding a journal that she intended to donate to the Historical Society that evening.

"It was written by an ancestor of mine named Flora Collins. I don't believe I've heard her mentioned. I understand she's

written many novels. We must find them and read them."

Tongue in cheek, Stokes said, "That should prove most interesting." He followed her out the door.

Barnabas looked in that direction, not really seeing anything. "So the ghosts of Gerard and Daphne never came here."

"We changed all their lives by being in 1840."

"As well as ours. Think, Julia. Think back to 1840. The stairway is probably no more. Desmond has likely destroyed them by now."

"We'll never forget - any of them, Barnabas," she said gently, knowing where his thoughts were.

"Never," he agreed. They left to join Elizabeth.

Julia noticed Barnabas' preoccupation at the ceremony to open the Center, and faced a fear that had been plaguing her since their return. During the reception later, she found a quiet corner near where Barnabas was talking to Quentin and Roger. She took a small mirror from her purse and turned her back to the group. In the mirror, she saw Roger's reflection - and Quentin's, but not Barnabas'. Quickly, she put the mirror back into her purse.

"Are you alright, Julia?" Carolyn asked. "You look a little pale."

"I'm fine, Carolyn. Just a little tired." Spotting Willie across the room, Julia excused herself. "Willie, can we talk for a moment?"

"Sure, Julia." They found a quiet spot by the door. "What's up?"

"Is - Barnabas' coffin still at the Old House?" she asked softly.

"You know it is, Julia," he said nervously. "What're ya askin' about that for?"

"Just curious, Willie." She turned to find Barnabas talking to a vaguely familiar young woman. As she approached, she recognized the look on Barnabas' face, and

31
smiled up at her old friend. "Here you are. Could I have a word with you, Barnabas?"

"Can it wait, Julia?"

"No. It cannot."

She saw his anger at her interruption as he turned to the girl. "We'll talk later," he told her, then turned to his old friend. "Julia?" He followed her to a small anteroom. "Well?"

"I don't know how to tell you -"

"Tell me what?"

She could sense his impatience to return to that girl out there. "Barnabas -when you were talking to that girl just now, what were you feeling? What are you feeling now?"

She saw the horrified realization in his eyes. "NO!"

"Barnabas -"

"Angelique lifted the curse. How -"

"She removed the curse that she placed on you. The curse you were under before you went to 1840 - wasn't Angel-ique's."

"The Leviathans. I had thought this done forever."

"I'll start trying to isolate a serum. But you have to cooperate."

"Why? I've no reason to want a cure now, Julia. Any reason I may have had I left in 1840."

"Are you sure of that, Barnabas? I've spoken to Elizabeth. She remembers Angelique Rumsen. That means that she might be alive in this time. You could find her - once you're cured."

There was hope in his eyes. "You might be right. But I won't wait until you locate the serum. I'll contact her attorney in New York. He must know where she is."

Julia was in her lab at the Old House a week later, working, when someone knocked on the front door. It was almost dusk, and Julia decided to make sure Willie didn't arouse any suspicions in the visitor.

"Mr. Collins ain't here right now," Willie was saying as she approached the door.

"Will he be back soon? It's imperative that I speak to him."

Julia moved nearer. "Who is it, Willie?"

The man looked past the servant. "I'm Carl Drake - Angelique Rumsen's attorney."

"Of course. Barnabas wrote to you last week."

"I only received his letter two days ago. I've been out of the country. I was going to contact him when I returned anyway -"

"Oh?"

He looked uncertain. "Are you - Mrs. Collins?"

Julia smiled. "No. There is no Mrs. Collins. I'm Dr. Julia Hoffman. Barnabas is a friend."

Since Willie had gone downstairs to warn Barnabas about their visitor, Barnabas entered the house through the front door. "Good evening, Julia."

"Barnabas. This is Carl Drake, from New York."

He shook the lawyer's hand. "Please, be seated, Mr. Drake. Would you care for a drink?"

"No, thank you."

"Do you have news of Angelique Rumsen?"

Drake looked away from him. "I'm -afraid so, Mr. Collins. I was just telling Dr. Hoffman that I had just returned from Europe two days ago." He hesitated, then faced his host. "There's no easy way to tell you this, I suppose. Angelique - Mrs. Rumsen died almost a week ago."

Julia felt Barnabas' reaction from across the room. "She's - dead?"

"I really am sorry, Mr. Collins. She was driving in the South of France when she apparently lost control of the car. It went into a lake. There's been no body recovered, but the authorities searched the area thoroughly. I went over to help, but nothing turned up. They've declared her dead."

32
Barnabas was at the window, staring unseeingly out into the dark night. Julia spoke into the quiet. "Is that all, Mr. Drake?"

"Not quite. There's her will. Once her husband's debts were paid, she had enough money left to live comfortably. She still owned the estate down the coast from here."

"Little Windward."

"Yes. The will names Barnabas Collins as her sole beneficiary. I have some papers that need to be witnessed," he said, drawing them from his briefcase, then glancing at the man who stood silent and straight-backed at the window. "I'll leave them here. Just send them back to me in a few days."

"He will," Julia assured him.

The lawyer stood. "I am really sorry to bring you bad news, Mr. Collins, but I thought you should hear it in person and not in a letter."

"Thank you," was Barnabas' brief response."

Julia walked Carl Drake to the door. "Will he be alright, Doctor?"

With more assurance than she felt, Julia answered. "Yes. It was just such a shock. He was really expecting to find her."

"That's understandable. She was certainly a beautiful woman. And I gathered from his letter that she meant a great deal to him."

"A very great deal," Julia agreed.

Willie had overheard the man's news, and entered the parlour at Julia's side. "Julia, he's gone!!"

"I expected it, Willie," she said, sounding defeated.

"But Julia, if he goes into town, the  , way he's feelin'."

"I know. He doesn't have any reason to care about what happens to him now."

"You're scarin' me, Julia. We gotta stop him."

The sound of glass shattering in the basement sent them both down the stairs, and into Julia's laboratory. Equipment was scattered, broken; test tubes and slides lay on the floor in a dust of glass, but of Bar-

nabas there was no sign. Julia felt perilously near tears. "Barnabas."

Willie looked frightened. "I don't know if we can handle him like this, Julia."

"We must, Willie. For his sake if for no other reason. You go into Collinsport and look for him. I have to stop by Collinwood and get Quentin to help."

Barnabas stood by Valerie Collins' grave, wishing he could cry. Even destroying Julia's useless equipment hadn't extinguished the rage in him. It wasn't fair. He began to laugh, hearing the edge of insanity in the sound. "Fair!" he asked aloud. "Since when has life been fair?" The laughter stilled as he knelt by the grave. "Oh, my darling Angelique. I managed to continue without Josette. But without you, I no longer care. About anything." It would be so easy to call her to him. To have her spirit appear there--but he couldn't. Let her rest in peace, he thought. Perhaps someday, when someone finally puts an end to my pitiful existence, I will join her. I hope it will happen soon.

Willie was standing outside the Blue Whale when Julia and Quentin approached. Pulling her coat tighter to ward off the chilling fog, Julia asked, "Have you found him?"

"Yeah. He's in there with Pam."

"The waitress he spoke to last week," Julia recalled. Pam Lucas was a local girl, a pretty red-head with blue eyes.

Quentin looked in the window. "Give me a couple of minutes to break them up."

Pam was sitting in a booth, obviously on a break or about to get off work. Quentin slipped in beside her uninvited, drawing Barnabas' angry gaze. He smiled charmingly and placed an arm on the bench behind Pam's shoulders. "Hello there, Cousin. Pam."

"Quentin."

"It's been a few days since you were in," the girl said.

"I've been busy helping Roger at the cannery. What time do you get off?"

"Five minutes ago."

33
"Then I guess I'm just in time."

"For what?"

"To walk you home, of course."

"Oh." Pam glanced at Barnabas. It was clear that she wasn't used to having the attention of two such eligible men, especially Collinses. "I -"

"Don't tell me. Cousin Barnabas has already offered."

"Not at all, Quentin. I had been about to ask, but I will defer to you - this time."

"That's good. Because I think Julia just came in."

Pam seemed to sense the dangerous undercurrent to the conversation. "If you'll let me out, Quentin, I'll go get my purse from behind the bar. Thank you for the drink, Mr. Collins."

He stood as well. "It was my pleasure."

"I'll - wait at the door, Quentin."

Quentin finished his drink, put some money on the table. "Goodnight, Barnabas."

"Julia told you, I assume."

Quentin saw no need to lie. "Yes. I'm sorry about Angelique. I've been in that place, cousin. Can I give you some advice?"

"I doubt I can stop you."

"Don't shut out your friends. That lady that just came in is worried about you. Let her help."

"No one can help. I wouldn't keep Pam waiting."

Quentin shook his head as he passed Julia on his way out. The doctor stood her ground as Barnabas approached her, meeting his look squarely.

"Since you're obviously here to take me back to the Old House, shall we go?"

"Barnabas -"

He looked straight ahead. "I will not discuss it here, Julia." She had no choice but to follow him from the bar.

Willie was on the dock outside. "B-Barnabas."

"Willie." That tope frightened Willie, touching something buried deep within his memory.

"The - the car's this way."

At the door to Pam's house, she turned to thank Quentin. "I enjoyed it," he told her. "But Pam, it might not be a wise idea to become involved with my cousin right now."

"Why not? He seemed very nice - and somehow a little sad." She smiled. "Unless you're-jealous?"

"Maybe just a little. But you are right about Barnabas being sad. He received some bad news about someone he loved very much. Right now, he might hurt you without meaning to."

"I see."

"You sound disappointed. Tell you what, you're off tomorrow night, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"I'll pick you up at six and we can drive up the coast for dinner."

Julia sent Willie to straighten up the lab. "You're sure you don't want me to stay up here?" he asked quietly, a careful eye on Barnabas, who was standing by the fireplace.

"I can handle it, Willie."

"Stop whispering about me," Barnabas said without turning.

Willie needed no further urging, and took off to the basement, hoping to avoid the anger he heard in that voice. "We weren't whispering, Barnabas," Julia said. "We're just concerned -"

"Of course. So you found Quentin and tracked me down to Collinsport. You are not my keeper, Doctor."

Julia's jaw tightened. He knew how much she hated for him to call her that. "At the moment, you appear to need one." Julia seldom lost her temper with this man, but something snapped at his attack. "Why I've put up with your moods, your temper, I have no idea."

He looked up at her. "Oh, come now, Julia. We both know the reason," he said harshly.

34
Julia paled and turned away. As a psychiatrist, Julia could be logical about Barnabas' attack. He was hurting and was lashing out at those closest to him. But as a woman in love with Barnabas Collins, she felt as if he had slapped her. She had forgotten how quickly he could turn on someone. But it would be different this time. No matter how much it hurt her, she would force him to work through the rage and anger now, not allow it to build until they were a danger to everyone around him.

Julia's stricken expression pierced Barnabas' rage-clouded brain. "Forgive me, Julia. That was unfair of me." He turned back to the fire. "I suppose I should be grate ful for what you all did this evening. I just can't seem to care any longer."

"Why did you destroy the lab?"

"What do I have to look forward to if I'm cured, Julia?"

"Would you prefer to continue as you are?" she asked him.

"No," he said at last. "No, of course not."

"Then I'll continue my work. I'm sure that once you're cured you'll see everything more clearly."

His smile was a faint echo of others she had known. "I don't deserve your friendship, Julia, but I am glad that you are my friend." He came to stand before her, taking her hand. "It would be very easy for me now to say what you want to hear, but it wouldn't be fair to you."

"I know, Barnabas. I've learned to accept it." She watched him moved restlessly around the room. "It might help you to talk about her, Barnabas. I'm a good listener." She smiled. "It's a prerequisite for being a psychiatrist."

For several minutes, she thought he was going to ignore the offer. Then he began to speak. Softly, quietly. "There are so many things. This house. So much about it reminds me of our brief time together. We were married in this room, with only my mother and Ben Stokes in attendance. The arguments. I remember the day she arrived.

I wasn't expecting her to come here with Josette's aunt. When I opened the door and saw her, I was happy that she had come. But I forced myself to push it away. To push her away. For her sake."

"For her sake?"

"Yes. There was no future possible for us. I had chosen to marry Josette, and I did love her, Julia." He began telling her about those months on Martinique, about his decision and the reasons for it.

Julia sat until dawn, listening, hoping that it would prove a catharsis. A rooster's crow made Barnabas look up.

"Thank you, Julia. I'll see you this evening."

She watched him leave the room, then went to check on Willie's progress in the lab.

Julia told the family about Angelique's death, and of its effect on Barnabas. "So if he seems a bit-preoccupied or moody, you'll know why."

"Poor Barnabas," Carolyn sighed. "His luck with women is atrocious."

"Really, Carolyn."

"It's true, Mother. He was in love with Vicki, she married Jeff Clark and left; then Maggie left for Europe with Sebastian Shaw; and now Angelique."

Elizabeth frowned at Julia. "Will he be alright?"

"I think so, Elizabeth. I stayed up all night, letting him talk about her. I'm hoping it helped. Speaking of Maggie, have you heard from her lately?"

"As a matter of fact, I have. I received a letter yesterday. She and Sebastian have gone their separate ways, and she's returning to Collinsport."

David's eyes lit up. "Is she going to be my governess?" Since Prof. Stokes sudden decision last week to take Hallie to Europe until the fall and then put her in a private school in New York, he was lonely. During the winter, he and Hallie had gone through

35
three governesses - simply because the women weren't Maggie.

"If she wants the job, yes."

"Uncle Roger might not agree. He was livid when she ran off with Sebastian."

"Roger will adjust," Elizabeth said with confidence.

Barnabas' depression had not lightened that evening, as Julia had hoped. If anything, it was worse. He submitted to her tests, but said almost nothing. She found him near dawn in what had once been the master bedroom.

"Julia, I want you to do something for me."

"If I can," she said. She had learned from experience that giving Barnabas carte blanche could be dangerous.

"Go to Little Windward. See if the portrait of Angelique is there."

"And - if it is?"

"Bring it here."

She understood. "You're going to hang it here in this room, aren't you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. Yes, it does matter. You turned the other room into a - shrine to Josette. Now you plan to repeat that - making this one into a shrine to Angelique. it's unhealthy to -"

"Will you do as I ask? I could simply send Willie -"

He was determined to have that portrait, she realized. Knowing the impossibility of arguing against his intractability, Julia said, "No. I'll go, Barnabas."

The house at Little Windward had been closed since before Sky Rumsen's death, and dust covers lent the rooms an eerie air. The portrait was in its place, and as she looked at the blond woman's beautiful face, she said, "If only you knew what your death was doing to him. You hated that shrine to Josette even more than I. And now he's doing the same thing all over again be-

cause of you. Dare I go back and tell him that the portrait was gone? No, she decided. He wouldn't believe me. I have to take it to him.

Willie finished hanging the portrait over the mantle as Julia watched. "I don't know, Julia. You think maybe he's goin' crazy?" he asked.

"Of course not, Willie. He's just needs time to adjust, that's all."

"What if he doesn't?"

"Once I isolate the right serum and cure him, he'll find someone else."

"No, Julia. I won't."

Julia whirled around, as did Willie. "Barnabas. I didn't realize it was so late."

His eyes were on the painting. "You found it. Thank you."

Willie left the room. Julia hesitated. "I have some more tests to run this evening," she told him.

"I'll be down in a few minutes."

"Don't be long. Elizabeth wants to see you at Collinwood for awhile this evening."

Quentin opened the door and stared in shocked surprise. "Maggie." He'd been seeing her during Barnabas' visit to parallel time, but knowing he had nothing to offer, he had tried to keep it light. He hadn't expected seeing her again to have such an effect on him. He stood there, hand on the door, noticing how pretty she was, how much he'd missed her.

"Hello, Quentin. May I come in?"

"Sure," he said with a grin. Stepping back, he closed the door behind her. "I thought you were still in Europe with Shaw."

"I was until a week ago. Sebastian found a wealthy patron in Paris, and I became excess baggage."

"I won't say I'm sorry. I never liked the man."

"I'm not sorry either, actually. I was getting homesick. Mrs. Stoddard didn't mention my letter?"

36
"I've been busy at the cannery."

She looked shocked. "You?"

"Don't be surprised. Roger's had to spend a lot of time traveling lately, so I volunteered to help out."

"MAGGIE!!" David called, taking the stairs two at a time, then launched himself at the auburn haired woman. "I knew you'd come back!"

"Goodness," Maggie said, managing to extricate herself gently.

The twinkle in Quentin's blue eyes reflected his smile. "I think he missed you." Maggie didn't miss the implication that David hadn't been the only one to miss her.

"Of course I missed you," David said. "Are you going to stay?"

"I have to talk to Mrs. Stoddard first."

"I'll go tell her you're here. Stay with her, Quentin. Make sure she doesn't leave again."

"Aye-aye, cap'n," he said, then turned back to Maggie. "Let's go into the drawing room. I could use a drink."

She laughed, turning in that direction. "Some things never change."

He paused over the brandy decanter. "Did you really expect me to?"

"I would have been surprised if you had," she told him. And disappointed, she said to herself. "I wasn't even gone a year."

"Six months can be a lifetime if you want it to be."

"I know."

Barnabas and Julia heard the voices from the drawing room when they entered the house. Seeing Maggie, Julia looked quickly at Barnabas. Until he had gone into parallel time, he had been quite close to this woman who so strongly resembled Josette. Was the attraction still there? Or had his discovery about his feelings for Angelique ended it, she wondered.

"Julia. Barnabas." Quentin looked at Julia, read her concern in her eyes. His hand tightened on the glass in his hand as he fought the jealousy that seeing Barnabas with Maggie brought.

"Maggie. When did you arrive?" Barnabas asked.

"Just a while ago."

"You're looking very well."

"Thank you. It's because I'm back home."

Julia took the conversation. "You didn't like Europe?"

"Of course. Especially Paris. But the only person I knew at all was Sebastian, and I so seldom saw him. I was homesick. Now that I'm home, I don't intend to leave again."

"I hope you mean that," Elizabeth said from the doorway.

"Mrs. Stoddard."

"Welcome home, Maggie."

"Thank you. I know I haven't any right to ask, but is my old position still open?"

"It is. And it's yours - if you want it."

"I do. I'm sorry about running off the way I did -"

"There's no need to say anything more about it. You're back now and that's all that matters."

"I hope Mr. Collins agrees," she said, referring to Roger.

"I think I can handle any objections my brother might have," Elizabeth assured her. "Where is your luggage?"

"I rented a car in Bangor - it's in the drive."

"David, do you think you could get them for her?"

"Sure."

"Tell you what," Quentin said, putting his glass down. "I'll go and give you some help." He took the keys Maggie held out, then the two of them left the room.

"David's grown so much these last six months. Where is Hallie?"

"Eliot decided to take her to Europe for a couple of months. She's been accepted by a school in New York."

"I'm glad for her. She never liked leaving there in the first place." Julia asked Maggie a question about Paris, and Elizabeth noticed that Barnabas had moved to stare out the window, oblivious to the conversa-

37
tion. She went over to stand beside him. "Barnabas. I'm glad you came over this evening. I don't like the idea of your being alone right now. Why don't you move to Collinwood for a few weeks? We would be glad to have you."

"Thank you, Elizabeth, but I would prefer to remain at the Old House. But I do appreciate the offer."

"I didn't know Angelique well, but she must have been very special."

"She was. Excuse me, Elizabeth. I have somewhere I must go."

"Of course." She followed his departure with worried eyes.

Julia followed him as quickly as she could, and Maggie turned to Elizabeth. "Is something wrong with Barnabas, Mrs. Stod-dard?"

"Do you remember Angelique Rumsen?"

"Of course."

"Barnabas found out a few days ago that she died in France."

"I saw the report in the Paris paper," Maggie said. "I knew that they had known one another, but Barnabas' reaction -"

"During the last months, he came to the realization that he loved her."

"Oh." There didn't seem to be anything else to say.

Later, on the terrace, Maggie recalled Elizabeth's words. Barnabas was such a kind, sensitive man, who deserved to be happy. She had tried to understand the strange - connection, for want of a better word - between she and Barnabas, but hadn't been able to.

Barnabas knew that Julia was waiting at the Old House, but he stood at the edge of the terrace watching Maggie. Her physical resemblance to Josette had drawn him to her so long ago, but now he saw only Maggie Evans as he stepped forward.

"Hello, Maggie."

She turned. "Oh. Barnabas. You startled me."

"I didn't mean to. Why are you out so late?"

"I wanted some air before going to bed. I thought you had gone back to the Old House."

"I started to, but I discovered that I wasn't ready to go home just yet."

"I can understand that. After Pop died, I avoided going back to the cottage by myself." The look in his eyes was strangely familiar, and it touched something very deep in Maggie's subconscious mind. Something terrifying. She turned nervously away. "I - I'm glad you're here, actually."

"Are you?"

"Yes. I wanted to offer my condolences about Angelique."

"Thank you."

Maggie moved away. "We've both changed a great deal since last summer," she said.

"Yes. Yes, we have."

"I know things could never be the way they were between us - but I hope we're still friends."

"We will always be friends, Maggie," he told her earnestly.

"Good If you ever need someone to talk to. I'm right here."

"That's a very generous offer, Maggie." She turned to look at him - and went totally still. "What's wrong?" Barnabas asked, seeing the expression of fear bordering on terror.

"The -the way you're looking at me."

Now Barnabas turned away just as Quentin's voice said, "Am I interrupting something?"

Barnabas avoided his cousin's eyes. "No. I was just leaving. I wouldn't stay out too much longer, Maggie."

"I won't. Goodnight, Barnabas."

Once he was gone, Quentin touched Maggie's arm. "Hey. You're shivering. Cold?" He took her in his arms.

"No. I -I don't know why, but I was frightened of Barnabas, Quentin."

"Frightened?"

38
She nodded. "Something about him -" She seemed to realize that his arms were around her, and gently pushed away. "I'd better go inside."

"I'll walk you up -" "That's alright. You don't have to -" "I want to. And I want to give you some advice. Stay away from Barnabas right now, Maggie. He's hurting - and he just might hurt you without meaning to."

He had given her a similar warning once before - just before they had begun to see each other as more than friends. Now, Maggie shook her head. "I can't believe that Barnabas would hurt me."

"I'm serious, Maggie." "At least you can be serious about something," she countered. Seeing the way his blue eyes hardened at her jibe, she turned away. "It's late, and I've had a long day. Goodnight."

Quentin stood on the terrace for a long moment, allowing his temper to cool. He was going to have to have a talk with his Cousin Barnabas.

Maggie knew she shouldn't have baited Quentin as she had, but his inability to make any move in her direction had been one of the reasons she had chosen to leave with Sebastian. She'd hoped that it would cause Quentin to declare his feelings - but it hadn't seemed to affect him at all. She dressed for bed, then went to the window to look down at the terrace. He was gone, probably into town to have a few drinks. She sighed, and since the night was warm enough, she left the windows open. Within minutes, she was asleep.

She didn't hear the soft sound of wings, nor see Barnabas appear at the foot of her bed. He stood there, watching her sleep, indecision mingling with need on his face. How can I consider this? I don't want to. If I go into Collinsport, Julia will be more likely to discover what I've done. She would never suspect that I would use Maggie. Just this once. And Quentin won't know. Looking down at her, he

saw again her resemblance to Josette, knew that resemblance had nothing to do with this. She was not Josette - and never could be. But he needed blood. Why not Maggie's? She turned her head, still asleep, and the soft, vulnerable skin of her neck was exposed to the moonlight that filtered into the room. Barnabas could hesitate only a moment longer before bending over her to sink his fangs into that white flesh.

Julia was pacing the drawing room nervously when Barnabas entered. She knew better than to question his whereabouts. "I was beginning to worry. Quentin stopped by and said you had left Collinwood some time ago."

"I went for a walk," he told her. It was impossible for him to meet her eyes, afraid that she would see what he had done, and he decided that his best defense was to attack. "Why aren't you down in your laboratory? Or have you decided that your search for a cure is futile?"

"It's not futile, Barnabas. Don't be cynical. I did as much as I could without you here."

"Do you really believe you will isolate a serum?"

"Eventually. But the most important part of any cure will be your attitude."

"Is there some problem with my attitude, Doctor?"

Julia clenched her fist to control her temper. "Don't call me that."

"But it's what you are."

Knowing she would get nowhere by continuing this conversation, Julia sighed deeply. "Are you coming down?"

He didn't answer, just walked over to the door and down the hall. Julia followed with a heavy heart.

Maggie noticed the two small marks on her neck the next morning, but dismissed them as insect bites. She raised a hand to gently touch them. They weren't painful.

39
"That's what you get for leaving the window open, Maggie," she said to herself. Still she found a scarf that matched her dress and tied it around her neck, covering the marks. No sense worrying the others.

She was on her way out after lunch with David when Quentin came in. "Going somewhere?" he asked.

"To the beach," David told him. "I'm going to look for some more rocks and shells for my collection. You want to come?"

"Why not? I was planning to play hookey from work anyway."

"Great!"

"Go on ahead, David. We're right behind you," Maggie said, smiling at her charge's eagerness. "He's very fond of you."

"He's a good boy."

"I think sometimes he's closer to you than he is to his own father."

"Roger's not an easy man to talk to. Especially for David. But they're getting closer, I think." He took her arm to guide her around a fallen tree branch.

"Quentin," she said, "I should apologize for what I said last night -"

"Don't. You were right."

Maggie pursed her lips in frustration. He really was impossible.

They watched David while sitting on a large rock. "I can't believe that Carolyn's really back in college."

"She is. She's taking all the required business courses."

"To what end?"

"My job," he said, leaning back on one elbow.

"And what will you do?"

"Oh, I don't know. Travel, probably." He winked a blue eye at her, the twinkle in his eyes a little wicked. "Care to join me?"

"Thanks, but no thanks," she said with a laugh. "I got all desire for traveling out of my system when I went to Europe."

Quentin found himself wishing that he had been the one tyD show her that continent. "Fair enough. Then how about dinner this evening?"

"I'd like to Quentin, but I just got back yesterday. I have to read David's workbooks -"

"Do it tomorrow."

"Honestly, Quentin. You're as bad as a little boy yourself. A very spoiled little boy who doesn't like being alone."

"I think I've heard that somewhere before. So give in to me and make me happy."

"I wish I could," she said with a shake of her head.

"Tomorrow night, then. It's Friday -"

She smiled. "I'll let you know."

"I'll make sure you do."

Her laughter suddenly trailed off as she looked toward the base of the cliff.

"Maggie?" he asked, concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"No. Could you make sure that David gets back to Collinwood for dinner, Quentin?"

"Sure, but -" he slid to his feet as she did. "Where are you going?"

"There's something that I have to do," she said, sounding distant, as if she were in a trance - Quentin's eyes narrowed, finally noticing the scarf around her neck. "Something I'd forgotten. Excuse me." She moved away before Quentin could stop her.

David, seeing her leave, called her name a few times, but she didn't acknowledge his attempt. "What's wrong with Maggie, Quentin?"

"I'm - not sure, David. Are you ready to go back to Collinwood?" He wanted to get the boy back so he could find Maggie. If what he suspected was true - then Cousin Barnabas was going to be very sorry.

"I guess so." He lifted the bag in his hand. "I got some really neat shells."

Quentin glanced in the direction that Maggie had gone. "We'll look at them later."

Julia was about to enter the cellar when the sound of music stopped her. "Josette's music box," she said softly as Willie came out of the parlour.

40
"Someone's up there," he said in a shaky voice.

"Have you been upstairs?"

"Not since this mornin'. I've been busy down here all afternoon. Who do you think it might be, Julia?"

"There's only one way to find out, Willie," she said, lifting a foot to go up. "Are you coming?"

"Wh-what if it's a - ghost?"

"WILLIE."

"Alright, I'm comin'." But before he could move, there was a knock on the door. Nervously, Willie went to answer.

'"Lo, Quentin."

"Willie. Julia. Have you seen Maggie today?"

"No, I haven't. Why?"

He stopped, listening to the music. "What's going on?"

"We were about to find out," she told him. "Care to join us?"

He waited for her to start up, then followed, leaving Willie to follow him.

The sound was coming from Josette's room, and without knocking, Julia opened the door and stood frozen there by the sight within. "Oh no."

"Maggie -"

Julia lifted a hand to silence Quentin and Willie. "Don't say anything."

Maggie sat before the fireplace, dressed in Josette's wedding dress, the music box in her hands. She stared straight ahead, apparently oblivious to them. "What's wrong with her, Julia?" Willie asked.

"It's obvious," Quentin said, angry.

"You don't know, Quentin," she said. She approached the still figure and sat next to her. "Maggie. Maggie, look at me."

There was no response. She continued to listen to the music. Very gently, Julia closed the music box and removed it from Maggie's fingers, setting it on the table. "You try, Willie."

Trying valiantly to control his near-hysteria, Willie spoke softly. "M-Maggie, whatcha doin' here?"

"I don't know anyone named Maggie." Her voice was quiet, not really her own.

"Why are you here?" He couldn't call her Josette. He just couldn't.

"You know why."

"No. I don't."

"He wants me here."

"W-Who wants you here?"

"Barnabas."

Quentin ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. But he remained silent at Julia's warning glance, allowing Willie to continue. "That was a long time ago, Maggie. He - He doesn't want it anymore. Neither do you. Don't you remember?"

"Willie," Julia said firmly. "Don't say anymore."

"But Julia-"

Maggie turned to Julia now, no recognition in her eyes. "Do I know you?"

"I'm - a friend."

"Does Barnabas know you're here?"

"Yes. He asked me to come and see you. He's concerned about you. I'm a doctor."

"A doctor?"

Obviously, Maggie was in the past, four years ago. And Julia was certain she knew the reason, and Quentin's anger meant he knew as well. "Would you mind removing that scarf from your neck?"

"Oh, I -" her hand went to the white scarf. "I don't know if I should."

"Do it, please," Willie pleaded. "She can help you."

"I don't need any help. And I don't know why Barnabas is so concerned about me. I'm fine now. Really I am."

"He just wants to be sure."

"He can see for himself soon. How much longer until sunset, Willie?"

"Not long," he told her. He was becoming angry as well. "Not very long at all, now."

Julia stood and motioned Willie and Quentin to the door and then to the hall. "I need to be alone with her."

41
"Julia - " Quentin's voice was shaking. "I'm not leaving this house without Maggie."

"You won't have to."

"You think Barnabas -"

She turned to Willie. "I don't know, Willie."

"Come on, Julia, it's written all over your face," Quentin said.

"Whatever has happened, Maggie thinks it's four years ago. And unless I can hypnotize her and make her forget again, it won't matter what Barnabas has done now." She secretly wondered if he hadn't hoped he would be discovered. "Go downstairs and wait for me."

Barnabas closed the coffin and turned to find an accusing Willie standing before him. "Wh/d you do it, Barnabas?"

"Do what, Willie?"

"Hurt Maggie again. I won't take the blame for it this time."

"What are you talking about?"

"Maggie. She was here today, Barnabas."

"Oh?"

"She was acting strange. Like it was four years ago." He told Barnabas about finding Maggie in Josette's room. "Julia hypnotized her and she and Quentin took her back to Collinwood."

"I can always trust Julia to handle the situation," he said, his tone wry.

"You better be grateful to her, Barnabas. If it wasn't for Julia, Maggie might've remembered everything again. And they'd be coming for you."

"Who's to say that that might not be preferable?"

"Com'on, Barnabas. You don't mean that."

Julia spoke from the stairs. "I think he does, Willie." His words only confirmed her suspicions, and made her sure she had made the right decision.

"Julia. I trust you took care of everything with your usual efficiency?"

"I hypnotized her and made her forget again, then Quentin and I took her out,

told her they'd been out walking and met me, that she'd never come here at all. I brought her out of it, and sent her back to Collinwood with Quentin. He's very angry with you, by the way."

"A simple 'yes' would have been sufficient, Julia."

"I called Wyndecliffe from Collinwood and made some arrangements -"

"What sort of arrangements?" he asked, his eyes narrowed.

Julia's eyes never left Barnabas' as she spoke. "Willie, I want you to put Barnabas' coffin in the station wagon."

"What for?"

"Just do it, Willie."

Now Barnabas asked the question. "Why?"

"I'm taking you to Wyndecliffe."

"Wyndecliffe?"

"I can keep a closer watch on you there - make sure you don't do something like this again - although I don't think Quentin would be likely to leave Maggie alone with you here. And I might be able to isolate a serum easier there."

"And what will you tell the family?"

"I spoke to Elizabeth. She understands that you're depressed as a result of Angelique's death and need some time away from here." His look was uncertain. "Barnabas, I'm doing this for your own good. If you don't agree to leave now, I'll simply wait until tomorrow morning when you're in your coffin."

"It seems I have no choice."

"No. You don't."

Julia had a private residence on the grounds, complete with a basement. By the time Willie installed the coffin there, it was nearly dawn. Standing beside it after the sun had risen, Willie asked, "You want me to stay too, Julia?"

"Yes. I need you to keep people away from here - not that anyone will come anyway. Just keep the doors locked."

"Where are you gonna be?"

42
"At the hospital. I have some things to clear up before I go to the lab."

Lee Mitchell smiled at his boss. "I was told you were back. Sudden decision?"

"A temporary one. I brought a patient up here last night. A private patient."

The white haired doctor scanned the list of new admissions. "Which one?"

"He's not on the list. He'll be staying at the house so I can monitor his progress more easily."

"Sounds mysterious."

"Not really. He lost someone important to him and is having some trouble coping. If you'll stop by the house this evening, I'll introduce you."

"Count on it. How about a cup of coffee in my office while I fill you in one what's what?"

She smiled. "Sounds good to me."

Lee turned to the pretty, dark-haired nurse. "We'll be in my office, Paula."

"Yes, Doctor. Welcome back, Dr. Hoffman." She wondered if Dr. Hoffman had noticed the look in Dr. Mitchell's eyes when he'd seen her. Paula would give a month's pay for a look like that from the handsome, distinguished, assistant chief of staff. But it was widely known that he had long been enamored of Julia Hoffman and refused to even look at another woman.

Barnabas looked around the drawing room. "A bit - austere, isn't it?"

Julia shrugged. "I've never really taken the time and trouble to redecorate. Most of my time was spent at the hospital, and I did very little entertaining."

"I can well believe that, remembering the Dr. Hoffman who first arrived at Collinwood."

Julia smiled. "She seems like a different person to me now."

"She is. That cold, clinical doctor no longer exists."

"You don't think so?"

"I know so." He looked up at the knock on the door.

Willie came from the kitchen. "Want me to get it, Julia?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

He opened the door and smiled. "Dr. Mitchell."

"Well. Hello, Willie. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay." Lee Mitchell had been his doctor during his stay at the hospital. He'd liked the man.

Lee had just been breaking through Willie's memory block when Julia had taken him back to Collinsport. "Julia's expecting me, I think."

"She's in the drawing room."

He and the man before the fire sized each other up in silence as Julia came forward. "Lee. Come in."

Barnabas watched with interest as the man's face softened when he looked at Julia. "I never could pass up a visit here."

"Dr. Lee Mitchell, Barnabas Collins."

"Dr. Mitchell."

"So you're Barnabas Collins."

"Lee's been my assistant here for almost as long as I've been here," she told Barnabas. "He's in charge when I'm in Collinsport."

"Indeed."

"Excuse me, Julia?"

"Yes, Willie?"

"There's a phone call for you. It's the hospital."

Julia's sigh brought a knowing grin to Lee's face. "I tried to warn you this morning that the staff intends to take full advantage of your being back."

"I'll go see what they want. If you'll both excuse me? Pour yourself a drink, Lee."

Lee went to the bar. "Mr. Collins?" he offered.

"No, thank you."

"You don't drink, then?"

"Occasionally. Have you known Julia long?"

"For years. I was in my last year of residency in Philadelphia when she started

43
her internship. We - spent some time together. Even after I got a staff position at the hospital."

"You must be very - fond of her." "Oh, more than fond, Mr. Collins. I've been in love with Julia for as long as I can remember."

"Have you? Curious that she's never mentioned it."

"She wouldn't. Julia's always been very - protective of her private life. I wager she didn't tell you that I once asked her to marry me, either."

Barnabas' surprise was evident. "No." "She turned me down, of course. But I refused to give up. Part of the reason I took the job here was to be near her. Then she went to Collinsport. Julia's changed. For the better."

"I think so."

Lee's grey eyes narrowed. "Mr. Collins, are you - responsible for that change?" "You're very direct, Dr. Mitchell." "I have to be on occasion." "I may be in some way responsible, yes."

"How?"

"That I cannot explain." "Julia's in love with you. I've seen it every time she mentions your name. I was on leave the last time you were here a few years ago, so we didn't meet. But it seems several of our nurses fell victim to your charm," he said deliberately, watching Barnabas' reaction to his choice of words.

Barnabas chose to ignore it. "I think of Julia as a friend. She's aware of that. I would like nothing more than for her to find someone worthy of her."

Lee examined Barnabas features carefully. "You're telling me the truth, aren't you?"

"What reason would I have to lie, Dr. Mitchell?"

"Call me Lee, Mr. Collins. I think we're going to be friends." He indicated the chess-board in a corner. "Tell me, do you play chess?"

"Not for some time."

"I'm a bit on the rusty side myself, but - would you care to try it?" "I believe I would."

That evening set the tone for the next month. While Julia was busy in the lab or on the backlog of paperwork, Lee and Barnabas began a marathon chess game. Their mutual respect grew, and Lee decided that it was time they were a bit more honest with each other. "You know, when Willie was first admitted here, I used hypnotherapy to try and uncover the cause of his breakdown."

"Oh? And what did you find?"

"Nothing that the authorities would have believed. Willie doesn't know that I got as far as I did. His story was - nothing short of bizarre."

"How so?" Barnabas asked, not lifting his gaze from the board.

"He spoke of chained coffins, and vampires -"

"Vampires?"

"I told you it was bizarre. He said he hadn't kidnapped Maggie."

"And did he say who had?"

"That's the one thing I could never find out. It was someone that he felt a strangely intense loyalty to, yet was terrified of."

"And - did he know the - reason for Maggie's being kidnapped?"

"Oh, that he did try to tell. Not that it made a lot of sense. Something about she was supposed to become someone else. Another girl, long dead. He claimed that he had been trying to warn Maggie the night he was captured."

"Do you believe his story?"

"Yes, I do. The subconscious rarely lies, Barnabas."

"Why didn't you tell this to the police?"

"I knew that Julia had to have a reason for still being at Collinwood. She's not one to back down from a challenge. As a hematologist, she would consider curing a vampire as a true challenge to her abilities in that field."

44
"You really believe that there was a vampire?"

"I had a look at the slides of Maggie's blood that Dave Woodward sent Julia. I agreed with the conclusions that she obviously came to. Maggie had been attacked by a vampire - and managed to escape. Julia's an expert hypnotist. Even better than I am. She used it to discover where Maggie was during that time, then, suspecting a vampire, went to Collinwood. I assume she found him, and has been trying to find a cure. A permanent cure."

"You sound, Lee, as if you know who this - vampire is."

Lee made his move, both on the board - and off. "I do, Barnabas."

Barnabas looked up then, meeting that grey gaze head on. "And what do you intend to do with that knowledge?"

"I don't intend to go to the authorities."

The chess game was momentarily forgotten. "You don't? May I ask why?"

"Oh, several reasons. Since I never went to the police originally with my suspicions, I suppose I was as fascinated as Julia, I could be considered an accessory after the fact in Maggie's kidnapping. When I last saw her, she seemed to be suffering no ill effects. Then, there's my suspect. I've had ample chance to get to know him recently, and he would seem to be anything but a monster. I don't believe he's unredeemable. Finally, there's Julia to consider."

"Julia?"

"She's spent the last four years protecting him. She's covered for him, lied for him, done who knows what else. So if I were to expose him, it would cause trouble for her."

"It might - unless he denied her voluntary involvement."

"Do you really think she would let him do that, considering the way she feels about him?"

"You're right, of course."

"Once she cures him, I'm hopeful she'll decide to come back here. And even if

she doesn't, I can always go where she is.

Barnabas, I'd prefer Julia not to know about

any of this. Not right now. Later, perhaps,

when it's all over."

"You do love her, don't you?"

"Very much. Why don't we finish our

game? it's your move, I believe."

Julia was just coming from the lab when she heard Lee call her name. He was standing at the nurses station with a young man and a wheel-chair bound girl. It was she who drew Julia's attention. Young, she had red hair, but from this angle Julia was unable to see her features. Julia found herself reminded of Amy Jennings. "Yes, Lee?"

"This is Mark Danvers. Dr. Julia Hoffman, head of Wyndecliffe."

"Mr. Danvers."

"Dr. Hoffman. I'm glad you're here. When I called this morning and couldn't reach you -"

Julia frowned. "You tried to call me this morning?"

"You were busy in the lab and asked me to handle the call," Lee reminded her.

"Oh, of course. I'm doing some research," she explained, kneeling before the girl. Her impression had been correct, Julia realized with a soft gasp. It was Chris Jennings' little sister. "AMY," she said quietly. But Amy didn't move, and there was no physical or facial response. "Amy, it's Dr. Hoffman." Looking up at Mark Danvers, she asked, "What's happened to her?"

"She's been like that for a week now. Not a word. She dresses herself, feeds herself if it's put before her, but she won't talk and seems not to hear what's being said." He shook his head. "I was hoping that she might respond to someone here."

Lee handed Julia a folder with Amy's name. "Traumatic shock."

"Evidently. Paula -"

"Yes, Dr. Hoffman?"

"Take Amy to a room and get her settled in. I'll be there in a few minutes."

45
"All right." She pushed the wheelchair down the corridor.

Julia saw Mark Danver's concerned expression. "She's in good hands, Mr. Dan-vers. Paula was here the last time Amy was admitted. Why don't we go to my office?" Julia suggested. Once there, she turned to Mark Danvers. "Where are Chris and Sabrina, Mr. Danvers?"

"They're both dead. This isn't easy for me to talk about, Doctor. I was more than their lawyer. I was a friend."

"What happened?"

"A week ago, Amy and Sabrina were out for a walk. Their house was pretty isolated, set in some woods. Now, you have to understand that this is what Amy told a neighbor. Apparently a large wolf appeared, and when she and Sabrina started to run, Sabrina twisted her ankle badly. She sent Amy to get help. Amy ran as fast as she could to the nearest neighbor's, a quarter of a mile away. After telling them what happened, she took them back to where she'd left Sabrina. They were too late. Sabrina was dead. Her throat had been torn -" He closed his eyes, ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry. I took care of the arrangements and saw her. The doctor wanted Amy to stay with the neighbors until Chris got in. Unfortunately, I was unavailable as well. Maybe if I'd been there -"

"Where was Chris?"

"He spent two days a month out of town, on business, he said. He hadn't mentioned going to me, but Amy told the neighbors that he had been working late at his office in town. There was a note on his door that he'd gone into Portland to see a client and would be back the next morning. Amy insisted on staying at the house so she could tell him about Sabrina's death herself. The doctor stayed until the sedative took effect, then had to go to the hospital on an emergency. From here on, it's purely conjecture." "Go on, Mr. Danyers." "Chris must've come in, woke Amy. I guess she told him about Sabrina, and he probably told her to go back to sleep. Then

he went out into the other room, wrote two letters. One was his will. The other was a sealed letter to Barnabas Collins, Collinsport, Maine. After that was done, he got a pistol from the desk. I had finally called my answering service, gotten the message about Sabrina and took off for the Jennings place. As I was getting out of my car, I heard a gunshot, and a scream simultaneously. It was the last sound I heard Amy make. She was standing in the doorway, and Chris was slumped over the desk, dead. The will stated that he couldn't go on without Sabrina, asked Amy to forgive him for not being stronger. He left everything to her and requested that she be sent to Barnabas Collins. That Mr. Collins had agreed to be Amy's guardian if anything were to happen to him or Sabrina. He also said that if her condition warranted, she was to be sent to Wyndecliffe Sanitarium."

Julia was aware that Lee had met Chris during his short time here, and that he was still Joe Haskell's doctor. He very possibly suspected the truth. She placed an iron control on her emotions. "I need to see Amy."

"Do you know how I can contact Mr. Collins?"

"He's here, actually, but unavailable until the evening. In the meantime, I'm going to run some tests on Amy. Why don't you show Mr. Danvers around, Lee?"

Barnabas sensed something was wrong the moment he saw his friend's face. "What is it?"

"Amy is over at the hospital," she told him.

"Amy? If she is there - then where is Chris?"

"Sabrina was killed - in Amy's words - by a 'giant wolf. Chris killed himself the next morning. Amy saw him do it."

"Good Lord."

"She's in shock, Barnabas. She hasn't spoken a word since - since Chris died. His note said she was to be sent to you - or here."

46
"Yes. I promised Chris once that if anything ever happened to him that I would take care of her."

"She reminds you of - Sarah, doesn't she?"

His smile was tinged with the sadness that remembering his dear little sister brought. "She's like Sarah in several ways." His shoulders set in determination. "I have to see her."

Julia sighed with relief. He was showing an interest - a real interest, in something at last. "I hoped you would want to. Chris' lawyer brought her here. He has a sealed letter for you from Chris."

"Then I'd better speak to him first. Have you called Quentin?"

"I wasn't sure I should."

"He has to be told."

"You're right. I'll do it now." She dialed the number.

"Collinwood."

"Mrs. Johnson. It's Julia Hoffman. Is Quentin there?"

"He's in the drawing room, Doctor. How is Mr. Barnabas?"

"Better. I need to speak to Quentin."

"I'll get him for you."

The next voice was Quentin's. "Julia. What's up?"

"I think you'd better get up here right away."

"Why?"

"Amy was admitted today. Chris -Chris committed suicide a week ago."

"My - " She could tell he was struggling to control his reaction so not to alarm anyone with him. "I'll be there as soon as possible."

"Amy talked a lot about you, Mr. Collins. She thought as much of you as she did her brother."

"The feeling is mutual, Mr. Danvers," Barnabas said. "Amy is very important to me."

"Here's the letter Chris addressed to you. I've already given Dr. Hoffman the will."

"Thank you. And thank you for bringing Amy to me."

"I didn't mind. Would it be alright if I see her before I leave, Dr. Hoffman?"

"Of course.

"I want to say good-bye."

Julia closed the door behind him and turned to where Barnabas stood, unmoving, staring at the envelope in his hands. "Are you going to read it?"

"I know what it says," he said with a sigh. "But - " He used the letter opener on her desk to slit the flap and then removed the letter.

"Barnabas,

As I write this, Amy is asleep in her room, a drug induced sleep to make her forget Sabrina's death earlier tonight. She told me that a giant wolf killed Sabrina. I know it was the werewolf. There was no full moon last night. I was at my office, intending to work late when the pains started. I tried to call Sabrina, to warn her, to let her know I was going to my hiding place. I didn't make it, obviously.

I can't go on any longer. Waking up every day wondering if Amy would suffer the same fate as Sabrina - I know it's the coward's way out, and that Amy may never forgive me. I just hope she will understand why I had to choose this way. I'm sending her to you, knowing that you'll take care of her as if she were your own sister.

I will leave it to your discretion about when to tell her about the curse. She will have to be told. This curse must end.

Thank you for all you and Julia tried to do for me, and take care of Amy.

Chris."

Barnabas looked at Julia. "He's right, Julia. It has to end."

47
"I agree, Barnabas. But you can't tell Amy."

"Not right now," he agreed. "When can I see her?"

Paula was just leaving Amy's room when she saw Barnabas and smiled. "Mr. Collins. I had heard you were back."

"Miss - Steele, isn't it?"

"Yes," she said, smiling, flattered that he remembered her name.

Julia's voice was more sharp than she planned when she spoke. "Any change, nurse?"

"No, doctor. She just sits there. It's like there's no one else in the room with her."

"You're going off duty, aren't you?"

"In a few minutes. Dr. Mitchell's still in there. I hope I'll see you again, Mr. Collins," she said, then departed quickly at Julia's look.

Barnabas followed Julia into the room. "Stay here a moment," she told him softly, then crossed to the chair where Amy sat. Lee looked up. "Danvers just left. She didn't respond at all."

"I didn't think she would." Kneeling, she said, "Amy, there's someone here who wants to see you." She motioned for Barnabas to approach.

Stopping before the girl, he spoke softly. "Amy."

Julia and Lee exchanged glances, confirming the tensing of Amy's hands in her lap. Julia nodded encouragement to Barnabas.

"I heard about Chris and Sabrina. I'm very sorry."

The red head slowly lifted as Barnabas knelt. "B-Barnabas?"

"Yes, Amy."

She was in his arms in an instant, sobbing. "Chris. He - I saw him raise the gun, but I - couldn't - couldn't make any noise - or - or - move -"

"It's alright now, Amy. I'll take care of you."

"P-Promise?"

"I promise."

"Forever?"

"Forever and ever," he said solemnly. They talked most of the evening, until Amy's eyes began to droop. Very gently, Barnabas lifted her from the chair and carried her to the bed. "Rest now. We'll talk again tomorrow evening."

"You'll be here?" He could hear the insecurity in her voice.

"You have my word." He stayed at her side until she slept, then followed Julia and Lee from the room. "How soon can I take her back to Collinwood, Julia?"

"You're going back home?" Julia asked.

"Amy needs the security of being back at Collinwood. I'm sure Elizabeth will agree to let her stay there."

"Would you excuse us, Lee?"

"I have night rounds anyway. I'll check in on Amy later."

At her house, Julia poured herself a glass of wine. "What reason will you give Amy for her not moving into the Old House?"

"My - depression over Angelique's death; the fact that she will have David at Collinwood, someone her own age instead of two bachelors. I'll convince her, Julia."

"Give me another day at least to work through any residual effects that night might have left."

There was a knock on the door, and Willie let Quentin in. His blue eyes held a myriad of feelings - most prominently guilt. "What the devil is going on up here?"

Julia gave him a large measure of brandy, glad in a way that his first meeting with Barnabas since the episode with Maggie was coming in this way. It tended to keep Quentin from taking his cousin to task. "If you'll calm down, we'll tell you."

He downed another full brandy while listening and reading the letter. "The coward's way out? I wish I had had the

48
courage to do it a long time ago. Then none of this would have happened."

"But it would have. The curse wouldn't have ended with your death, Quentin," Julia said.

"Then I should've found a way to end it."

"We tried, Quentin," Barnabas reminded him. "Even Magda tried. There was simply no way."

"That doesn't stop the guilt. Every time I look at Amy, I see Jenny, Lenore. That child doesn't deserve any of what's happened to her. Is she going to be alright?"

"After her reaction to Barnabas?" Julia asked with a slight smile. "I think so. As long as he's there for her."

Julia was called away to the hospital a few minutes later, leaving Quentin alone with Barnabas. "Quentin, I think we need to talk," Barnabas said.

"Oh, really, cousin? About what?" He'd had a few more drinks, and now his anger at Barnabas was returning.

"Maggie."

"Don't you even talk to me about her. After what you did -"

"I never intended to hurt her, Quentin. I needed - someone, Maggie was there. If I had known that it would have the effect it did -"

"You still would have done it. She's not Josette, Barnabas. Josette is dead - just like Angelique." Quentin paused when he saw the stricken expression on his cousin's face. "Look, I'm sorry. That was a low blow. It's just - Maggie's - special."

"I agree. But, Quentin, is it wise for you to become so - involved with Maggie?"

"No. No, cousin, it's not wise. But then, when have I ever done anything wise? And I wish I could say that I know what I'm doing. But I don't. All I know is that Maggie says she's not looking for a long-term relationship right now, and is willing to accept whatever we have." He smiled. "You know, right now, I think I'd do just about anything to be able to stay at Collinwood.

He picked up the brandy decanter. "I'm going up to bed and try to get some sleep."

Barnabas   watched    him   go   with troubled eyes.

Amy smiled happily when Quentin entered the room the next afternoon. "Dr. Hoffman told me you were here," she said, giving him hug.

"I drove up last night. How are you?"

"I want to go home. To Collinwood."

"You will. I'm sorry about Chris and Sabrina, Amy."

She looked down at her hands. "Thank you. Uh, Quentin,"

"What is it, Princess?"

"Chris told me something a couple of months ago. Maybe you can tell me if it's true."

Quentin was immediately on his guard. "What did he tell?"

"That we're related to the Collins Family."

Quentin relaxed. "He was right, Amy. Did he explain how?"

"Not really."

"Then let me try. You remember the first Quentin?"

"Of course I do. He nearly killed David."

"Yes. Well, he had two children. Twins. A boy and a girl. The boy was my grandfather. The daughter was your grandmother Lenore."

She frowned. "Why weren't they raised at Collinwood?"

"From what Barnabas discovered, the first Quentin married young - too young. After a while, he took off, not knowing that his wife was going to have a baby. With his desertion, she went insane. She'd never been very stable to begin with. The family, who never approved of the marriage, sent the twins to stay with Mrs. Filmore, in town. Their mother - died, and Mrs. Filmore was allowed to keep the children, raising them as her own, more or less. The boy discovered in his late teens who he was and left 

49
Collinsport, reclaiming the Collins name, never to return. But Lenore had fallen in love with Mrs. Filmore's nephew. They married, and Lenore never knew that she was a Collins. Their daughter was your mother."

"I see. So we're - " she paused to think. "Third cousins?"

"We are. And David is your - fifth cousin, I think."

"He doesn't know, does he?"

"Only Julia, Barnabas and I know. Chris didn't want to claim the relationship since he thought it too slight."

"So. I'm really one of the Collins family?"

Quentin sensed her need to belong. "Yes. You're one of us. Do you know what I'm going to do after I leave here?"

"What?"

"Go back to Collinwood and let everyone know you'll soon be home."

"It'll be nice to see everyone again. Especially David. Has he changed any?"

"You've still got a crush on him, haven't you?"

She blushed. "Oh, Quentin."

"David's a little older, but he's still David. He missed you too." Her crush on David troubled him. But they were still young, there was time for them to change their minds.

"You're kidding me."

"Would I do that to my favorite cousin?"

"Yes, you would."

"At least you're smiling again." Julia came in. "I have to go now. You be good, and I'll see you at Collinwood."

The girl grabbed his hand. "I'm glad you came to see me, Quentin."

"So am I, Princess." He spoke quietly to Julia, then left.

Julia sat beside Amy. "Did you have a nice talk?"

"Oh, yes. Quentin's really very nice. And just like he was when I left. Not like Barnabas."

"Barnabas is different?"

She nodded. "He looks sad. Even when he smiles, his eyes aren't happy."

Amy had always been a sensitive child, receptive to other people's feelings. Especially Barnabas' feelings. "You're right, Amy. Do you remember Angelique Rum-sen?"

"The woman Barnabas knew in England? The pretty blonde one?"

"That's the one. Barnabas found out not too long ago that she's dead."

"What happened?"

"There was an automobile accident in France."

"Barnabas was in love with her, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was. But he didn't realize it until it was too late."

"I knew she loved him. The way she looked at him when she was here -"

"She loved him a great deal," Julia agreed.

"Is that why he's here?"

"Her death upset him deeply. But having you around, needing him, could be just what the doctor ordered."

"I do need him, Dr. Hoffman. And I always will."

"He needs you just as much."

"Amy's back?" David repeated. "WOW!"

"David, please," his aunt said, smiling at his exuberance. "What happened, Quentin?" She, Maggie, and Carolyn listened as he told the story. "That poor child."

"I know," Maggie agreed. "She's had a rough time. Her parents dying when she was a baby, losing Tom, and now Chris." She shook her head, felt Quentin take hold of her hand.

"You're sure she's alright, Quentin?" Carolyn asked.

"Julia seems to think that she will be once she's back here. Barnabas wanted me to ask you, Elizabeth, if Amy could stay here at Collinwood instead of the Old House."

"I don't see why she can't."

50
"He'll be relieved. He's still not fully recovered himself, and feels the atmosphere over there might be a bit too somber for Amy at the moment."

"Amy's more than welcome, and David could use the company. Since she'll probably take her lessons over here, it will also be more convenient."

"I just hope Amy agrees."

Carolyn's eyes opened wide. "You mean Barnabas hasn't discussed it with her?"

"He planned to this evening."

"You said that Barnabas still hasn't recovered. Why is Julia agreeing to release him?"

"He's better, Elizabeth, but still not himself. I'm not sure he ever will be." He smiled at Maggie. "Join me for a walk?"

"David and I were about to take one anyway," she told him.

There were tears in Amy's eyes as she looked up at Barnabas. "Why can't I stay at the Old House with you and Willie?"

"You'll have more company at Collinwood. I have business to take care of everyday, and Willie has his own work. I promise to come and visit you every day." His voice was solemn - and sincere.

"Alright, Barnabas. I'll stay at Collinwood. But only until you decide that I can move into the Old House." They were in Julia's car, driving towards Collinsport. Willie had left immediately after dusk to transport the coffin back to the Old House.

Their arrival at Collinwood was a maze of confusion, with everyone talking at once, it seemed. After things calmed a bit, Elizabeth was quick to reassure Barnabas. "Amy is welcome to stay as long as you think she should. She and David always got along well, and she's such a dear child."

"Thank you, Elizabeth. I hope before long she'll be able to move into the Old House. Actually, there are things that will have to be done there, first, certain renovations I've been postponing."

"I understand."

The next few months fell into a pleasant pattern. Carolyn finished her courses and began working at the cannery with Roger and Quentin. For his part, Quentin was relieved. Sitting behind a desk bored him senseless. Although, having more free time meant spending more time with Maggie, getting in even deeper. He had mixed feelings about bowing out and leaving Carolyn to do the job. He even considered trying to convince Roger to let him do the traveling for a while. Maybe getting away would give him a fresh perspective on his relationship with Maggie.

Amy's memories of the tragedy were dimmed by more pleasant happenings. And having Amy around was a God-send for Barnabas. He had someone who needed him. When Little Windward was sold, he placed the money into a trust fund for the girl. But still he mourned Angelique, and after his nightly visits to Amy, he divided his nights between staring up at Angelique's portrait, Eagle Hill, and the village.

Barnabas watched the look on Julia's face change slowly from hope to desperation. She spent much of her time at the Old House attempting to isolate the still elusive serum. She would be extremely hopeful about a series of tests, then try so desperately to hide her disappointment when she ran into a dead end. Unless he put an end to it, Julia would waste the rest of her life in that lab.

So he did end it. After six months, Barnabas stood at the doorway, his eyes on the woman bent over the microscope.

"Julia. We need to talk."

"Barnabas." She put a hand to her neck, massaging the tight muscles there. "I didn't realize it was dusk." She was thinner, he noted, watching her lay out the test equipment. "I need some samples -"

"No, Julia."

"No? But - Barnabas -"

51
"This has to stop, Julia. Now. You've spent the last six months here to no avail. I cannot be cured, Julia. I've accepted it. You must do the same."

"I will never accept it. I'm close, Barnabas. I'm certain -"

"How many times have you said that only to be disappointed? No, Julia. This research is finished."

Her features set. "What will you do?"

"What I must. And you will return to Wyndecliffe and your life there."

"No. I've been offered the Chief of Staff position here at the hospital in Collinsport. I'm going to take it."

"What about - Wyndecliffe?"

"You mean what about Lee, don't you? I know how he feels about me, Barnabas. He and I had a long discussion the other day - he came down for lunch - He realizes that I'm happy here, and agreed to take over at Wyndecliffe. We're friends. Besides, I want to stay around in case you change your mind."

"I shan't do that, Julia."

A week later, he left the Old House soon after dusk to pay a visit to Valerie's grave at Eagle Hill. It had been six months since he had learned of Angelique's death. Had the choice he'd made in Martinique been the right one? he asked himself for the hundredth time. Mightn't he have handled things differently? It doesn't matter now, he thought. Angelique is gone. For Amy's sake, he would control the curse, keep a tight rein on his needs. Until it was no longer possible to remain in Collinsport, he would do all he could for the girl.

He glanced around the fog-shrouded cemetery, then turned from Valerie's grave. He'd go into Collinsport for awhile. He needed people around him. Living people. Not ghosts.

"Did you have a chance to look at the contract, Quentin?" Carolyn asked.

Her cousin grinned like a school-boy caught without his homework. "Sorry. I'll do it tomorrow. Are you going to drink that?" He indicated the glass before her. It had been his idea to stop by the Blue Whale for a drink after a late day at the office. But now, he was anxious to get back to Collinwood. Maybe Maggie would go for a walk with him.

"In a minute. There's Barnabas. I thought he'd be at Collinwood."

"Not tonight." At her frown, he said, "Angelique's death. He found out six months ago."

"That's right." Barnabas had seen them and approached. "Hello, Barnabas."

"Carolyn. Quentin." He had been hoping that none of the family would be there.

"Barnabas. Have you been to see Amy yet?"

"I plan to in an hour or so."

"Please. Join us." Carolyn saw him hesitate. "Unless you're meeting someone?"

"No." He sat down.

Finishing his drink, Quentin rose. "I need a refill. Can I get you something, Barnabas?"

"Yes, thank you."

Carolyn's eyes were sad as she looked at her cousin. "It stops hurting so much after a while, Barnabas."

He didn't try to pretend ignorance. "Does it?"

"Yes. For months after Jeb's death, I just didn't care. Nothing seemed to matter very much. You know what a fool I made over Sebastian Shaw simply because he looked like Jeb. I can think of Jeb more easily now, without the pain. He would have wanted me to go on living. And I'm sure Angelique would want the same for you."

Barnabas said nothing. When Quentin returned, he tried to include his cousin in the conversation, but had no better luck than Carolyn had had.

52
Julia entered the drawing room of the Old House and found only Willie dusting furniture. "Where is he, Willie?"

"I don't know, Julia. He stayed here for a while, then took off."

"Did he say anything?"

"Not much," he said with a shrug. "Julia, Barnabas, he, well, he scares me sometimes. He's different."

"Different how, Willie?"

"I don't know. More like he was when I found him. it's like he doesn't care anymore - not even about his own survival."

Julia knew Willie was right. Barnabas was withdrawing further into that shell, coming out only partially for Amy's sake. "Do you think he went into the village?"

"Either there or Eagle Hill."

Carolyn looked up from her drink, about to suggest that they leave when the door opened and a woman entered. She froze. "My God. Quentin - " She squeezed his arm tightly.

Quentin, facing the door, looked in that direction, his handsome features revealed his surprised shock. "I see her - but I don't believe I see her."

Curious, Barnabas turned in his chair to look at the new arrival. "Angelique." His voice was barely audible. She crossed the smoke-filled room and began speaking to the bartender. Without a word, Barnabas rose and went to the bar himself.

"Collinwood you say? You just keep on the main road going north - Oh. Mr. Collins. This lady's trying to get to Collinwood."

Those blue eyes held no recognition as they turned to him. "You're a Collins?"

"Barnabas Collins. Miss - ?"

"du Bois. Miranda du Bois."

"Why are you going to Collinwood, Miss du Bois?"

"I have an appointment with Mrs. Stoddard concerning a job."

"A job?"

"As her personal secretary. Really, Mr. Collins, I fail to see how this concerns you."

"Forgive me. I had no idea that Cousin Elizabeth was considering hiring a secretary. Do you have a car?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll go with you." When she looked as if she might refuse, he added, "To show you the way."

Carolyn and Quentin were in shock as they watched the couple leave. "What's going on, Quentin?"

"I wish I knew, Carolyn."

"She looked like Angelique, but I'm sure she didn't know Barnabas."

"I'll ask Hank what he knows," he said. As he stood, Julia entered, looking around the room. "Julia. Over here."

She came over, frowning. "Have you seen Barnabas?"

"He just left. Carolyn, why don't you fill Julia in while I talk to Hank?"

Curious, Julia sat down. "What happened?"

"It was the strangest thing, Julia. We were just sitting here when - she walked in."

"Who?"

"Angelique."

"Angelique is dead, Carolyn," Julia reminded her.

"Then this woman was her double. She went to the bar and so did Barnabas. They talked for a few minutes and then left together." Both women looked up as Quentin returned. "What did Hank say?"

"Her name is Miranda du Bois, and she's on her way to Collinwood."

"Miranda?"

"Collinwood? Why?"

"Apparently she's meeting Elizabeth about a position as a secretary."

"Of course. Mother did mention the name. She was very impressed with Miss du Bois' letter."

"Did she say why?" Julia asked.

"No."

Julia rose to her feet, "i'm going to Collinwood."

"We're right behind you."

53
Elizabeth was just entering the foyer when Barnabas and the young woman entered the house. She stopped, staring in surprise. "Barnabas?" she asked.

"Good evening, Elizabeth. May I present Miranda du Bois? Miss du Bois, my cousin, Elizabeth Collins Stoddard."

"Miss - du Bois," Elizabeth said haltingly.

Miranda's smile gave away her nervousness. "How do you do, Mrs. Stoddard? I hope I'm not too late -"

Recovering her composure, the mistress of Collinwood smiled. "Not at all. Did you have any trouble finding the house?"

"I did until Mr. Collins offered to show me the way."

"I see. If you'll excuse us, Barnabas, I'll take Miss du Bois into the study for an interview."

"Of course. Where is Amy?" "In her room, I believe." "Then I'll go up and see her. I look forward to seeing you again, Miss du Bois."

"Do be seated, Miss du Bois. May I call you Miranda?"

"If you wish, Mrs. Stoddard." Elizabeth sat behind the desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. "Your letter said that   you   had   recently   returned   from France?"

"Yes. I worked as a receptionist/ secretary for a doctor there."

"Are you from France originally, then?"

Miranda lowered her eyes to look at the carpeted floor. "I - I'm not sure where I'm from, Mrs. Stoddard." "Oh?"

"I suppose you're entitled to know the entire story before you've decided whether or not to hire me. You see, I have no memory prior to six months ago. The first thing I recall clearly is waking up in a small, private clinic in an isolated part of France. The doctor said I had wandered in a week earlier, dazed, babbling in English, then collapsed. Dr. du Bois tried to find out who I

was, but he had no luck. I had no identification, and my clothing had both French and American labels, and although I could speak French fluently, my native language appeared to be English. American English. Dr. du Bois gave me his dead daughter's name and offered me a job as his receptionist."

"Why did you leave?"

"Because I knew I would never find out who I am if I didn't. I had to be from America. The label on my slip was from a store in Portland."

"So you think you may be from there?"

"Not Portland itself, perhaps, but the general area."

"How long were you in Portland?"

"About a month. I didn't have any luck, and my funds were running low."

Elizabeth had already made her decision. "Will the salary I mentioned in my letter be satisfactory?"

"Oh, yes. More than enough."

"Then the job is yours. Your duties will be light, sending answers to correspondence and such, arranging my calendar, et cetera. You will have week-ends and evenings off, and you're welcome to live here at Collinwood. Do you have any questions?"

Julia saw the change in Barnabas when she entered the drawing room. "Where is she?"

"In the study with Elizabeth."

"She is Angelique?" Quentin asked.

"Yes."

"Are you sure, Barnabas?"

"Quite sure, Julia. For some reason, she doesn't remember me, or anyone else, it seems. But it is her."

Elizabeth entered, followed by the blonde woman. "Good. You're still here, Barnabas. Miranda had some cases in her car. Would you mind - ?"

"Not at all. Which room shall I put them in?"

"The one next to Julia's I think."

55
"Excuse me," he said, taking the keys Miranda held out.

"Miranda, my daughter, Carolyn Stoddard Hawkes; another cousin, Quentin Collins; and Dr. Julia Hoffman. This is Miranda du Bois, my new secretary."

"Miss du Bois."

"How do you do?"

"Mrs. Hawkes, Doctor. Mr. Collins."

"Make it Quentin. There are three 'Mr. Collins' around here and it can get pretty confusing." He poured himself a brandy. "Will any of you ladies join me?" Elizabeth, Julia and Carolyn accepted sherries. "How about you, Miranda? Sherry? Or - ?"

"Port, if you have any."

"Ah. A woman after my own heart." He poured a glass with a flourish. "Port for m'lady," he said, bowing to her. He was still in that position when Barnabas returned. "Sherry, Cousin?"

"No, thank you. Your things are in your room, Miss du Bois."

"Thank you."

"I'll be going now, Elizabeth. Goodnight, all."

He had turned to go when Miranda spoke hurriedly, as if to detain him for a moment. "Mr. Collins, thank you again for your help."

Their eyes met, and locked for a moment as he said, "It was entirely my pleasure. Welcome to Collinwood." He turned and left.

Realizing that he was gone, Miranda said, "Mr. Collins doesn't live here?"

"No," Carolyn told her. "He has another house on the property. It was the original Collinwood."

"Oh." She tried to stifle a yawn, unsuccessfully. "Excuse me. I suppose the drive this evening tired me."

"I'll show you to your room," Carolyn offered, telling the others, "I'll be right back."

The room was the one in which Angelique had stayed during her visit to Collinwood. Carolyn stood in the doorway,

watching her closely, but could see no sign of recognition. "Breakfast is at eight, although Mrs. Johnson usually keeps the buffet set up until nine. Miranda -"

"Yes, Mrs. Hawkes?"

"Call me Carolyn. And don't let the family put you off. There are a lot of us, but we're not ogres."

Miranda smiled. "I never thought you were. How many others are there?"

"Well, there's my uncle Roger, his son David. And then Amy Jennings, she's Barnabas' ward, but she lives here. And Maggie Evans is the children's governess."

"And Mrs. Johnson is the housekeeper."

"Exactly. I'll go now so you can go to bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Once Carolyn rejoined them, Elizabeth told them Miranda's story. Julia paid particular attention to the name of the doctor in France.

"She must be Angelique," Carolyn exclaimed.

"But her car went into a lake," Quentin reminded her.

"Of course, and they did find a body that was tentatively identified as Angelique a month later -"

"It had to have been a mistake," Elizabeth agreed. "Julia? You've been very quiet."

"I'm going to try to contact that doctor she told you about. He might be able to tell me something more." She stood, smoothing her skirt. "Right now, I'm going to talk to Barnabas."

Quentin set his glass on the table. "I'll go with you. If you see Maggie, Carolyn -"

"I'll explain it to her," she promised.

"He's up in that room again," Willie told them. "What's goin' on, Julia?" "What do you mean?"

56
"Barnabas, well, he wasn't the same as when he left."

"Angelique's back." 

"What? But - she's dead." 


"We'll  explain  later,  Willie.  Right now, we have to talk to Barnabas."

He was standing in the bedroom, staring up at the portrait of Angelique. Julia still regretted going to get that painting for him, letting him turn this room into a shrine. "Barnabas," she said softly.

His eyes never left the painted blue ones. "I never thought to see her again. I saw her die. I held her in my arms as she took her last breath. When she walked into the Blue Whale tonight, I thought she was a ghost. But it was her."

They briefly told him Miranda's story. "I'm going to get in touch with Dr. du Bois," Julia told him. "And I'll also talk to Miranda."

"How ironic that she is using that name," Barnabas said quietly. "Perhaps it means a new beginning for us."

"Whatever it means, Barnabas, until she remembers, you must treat her as Miranda du Bois, a stranger. She must remember on her own."

"I understand."

"Are you going to let Julia start searching for a cure again?"

"She tried for six months with no success."

"What harm will it do for me to keep trying, Barnabas? Especially now. Unless you plan to turn her into what you are."

She almost regretted her words and apologized when he stiffened. "You can begin tomorrow evening," he told her. "Now, if you're finished -"

"See you tomorrow, Cousin." "I want to talk to you alone, quentin."

"Sure." He leaned back against the doorframe as Julia started out.

"I'll tell Willie what's happened while I'm downstairs,"  she said, glancing once more at Barnabas before leaving. "Well, Cousin?"

"You warned me once about Maggie -I'm warning you about Angelique: Stay away from her."

"And if I don't?"

"Don't push me, Quentin."

Quentin shrugged. "I was just trying to be friendly to a new arrival."

"Indeed?"

"I guess you haven't forgotten that she was going to marry me once," he said. He didn't mention that it had only been another of Angelique's devices to make Barnabas jealous.

"She had her reasons for that," was Barnabas' response. "But she is mine, Quentin. She always has been."

"Then what harm can my being friendly possibly do? Or are you afraid that she might prefer my company to yours?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I trust you will recall that in all of our early battles, I was the victor more than you. Good night." He turned back to the portrait, leaving Quentin no choice but to leave.

Hours later, Barnabas stood on the terrace, looking up at the house. The light was out in Angelique's room, but he knew she would hear him if he called her. There had always been a link between them. He had sensed it that first moment on Martinique when he had looked up and seen her on the landing. He understood it no more now than he had then, but it was still there, stronger, now. "Angelique. Come to me. I am on the terrace, waiting. Come. Come."

She appeared on the edge of the terrace, wearing a dark green velvet robe, pausing when she saw him. "Oh. Mr. Collins."

"Miss du Bois. I thought everyone asleep."

"I was, but - something woke me," she said, trying to recall what that had been.

"I'm glad."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I wanted some company," he explained.

57

"Oh." She wandered over to the fountain.

Barnabas watched the play of moonlight on her hair, gilding it with a silvery glow. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch it. "You are very beautiful."

"Th-Thank you."

"There is no need to thank me for stating the truth."

She looked around and something in his eyes seemed to trouble her, and she turned back toward the house. "I should be going in."

"Not yet."

"If anyone were to wake up and see me out here - I do work for Mrs. Stoddard, and I'm sure she wouldn't approve of my being down here with you at this hour."

"She won't know. Please, stay for awhile."

Miranda  looked  up  into  his  eyes

and he could see the confusion in

them.

"I don't understand this." 

"What don't you understand, Miranda?"

"This - this has happened before."

"Oh?" It had, Barnabas thought. Many years ago, on Martinique.

"I don't know when - I suppose I'm just tired, being very silly -"

"Not at all. It's quite possible," he told her.

"Mr. Collins, I have to know the truth."

"Is it so important? Why dwell on the past when the future can be so much more interesting?"

"Do you really believe that?"

"With all my heart," he said, placing a finger beneath her chin to raise her face toward the moonlight. "Don't think about the past nor the future. Only now. That is all that matters." As his lips touched hers, he felt her respond, yet purposefully held his emotions in check.

"Barnabas?" she said, her eyes shining softly.

"Don't say anything," he whispered, pulling her head down to rest on his

shoulder, exposing the vulnerable curve of her neck. He couldn't allow Quentin or anyone else to take her away from him again, he thought. She moaned softly as he sank his fangs into that soft skin.

She didn't attempt to fight him, and when she collapsed against him, Barnabas realized with a sense of self-loathing what he had done. In silence, he carried her back to her room and laid her gently on the bed. Looking down at her pale features, he was surprised when her eyes fluttered open.

"Barnabas."

"I am here. Rest. I will see you tomorrow night."

"Yes. Tomorrow night." She relaxed into a light sleep.

Barnabas watched her for a few minutes, then left, promising himself that he would not do this again.

Julia was called to the hospital in Collinsport for an emergency, so she wasn't at breakfast the next morning to notice Miranda's preoccupation. She greeted Roger, Maggie, and the children, carried on a conversation, but Quentin sensed that she was only doing what was expected of her. Going through the motions.

He found her in the study soon after breakfast. "Working hard?"

"Not really. Mrs. Stoddard just left, if you're looking for her."

"I'm not. I saw her leave for town." He sat on the edge of the desk. "How about a coffee break?"

"It's too early."

"Then we'll talk."

Miranda adjusted the scarf around her throat. "About anything in particular?"

"No. How did you sleep last night?"

"Never better."

"Nothing disturbed you?"

"Such as?"

Quentin lifted his shoulders. "This is an old house. It makes all sorts of noises."

"I didn't hear any."

59
"I'm glad. What did you think of Barnabas?"

Again she touched the scarf. "B-Bar-nabas?"

"My cousin," he prompted.

"He seemed very - nice. Excuse me, but I have work to do."

"Sure. I'll go - if you agree to go for a walk with me after dinner this evening."

"Yes. Anything. Just - please let me get this done."

"Anything you say, Miranda." He had decided to take a few days away from the cannery to give Carolyn a chance to settle in, and to keep an eye on Miranda. Maggie hadn't understood when he had told her about his decision.

"Why do you have to keep an eye on her, Quentin? Barnabas is the one who should be -"

"But he can't, Maggie. Not right now. And I promised him I'd do it - make sure I was around in case she starts remembering." She had still been angry. "Hey," he'd said, turning her into his arms. "I don't intend to ignore you, you know. Tell you what, how about a late supper tonight?" She'd been mollified, and now Quentin began to worry that he might not be able to keep that date.

Julia returned later, then left again for the Old House, but Quentin didn't tell her about his suspicions. After all, he had no real proof, not even when he saw Miranda standing at the portrait of Barnabas. She seemed mesmerized by the eyes. Quentin was about to speak when Amy said, "Hello, Miranda."

"Oh, Amy. I didn't hear you."

"I just came down. That's a nice painting, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"The resemblance is really amazing."

"Resemblance?"

"That's the first Barnabas. He left Collinwood in 1795 for England. My Barnabas is his descendant."

"I admit that I wondered about the clothing. You're right about the resemblance. They could be the same man."

"Barnabas had one painted of himself in that same pose. It's at the Old House."

"The Old House," Miranda repeated. "Of course. Carolyn did say it was the original Collinwood."

"You have to get Barnabas to show it to you. Especially in the evening. Candlelight turns it into a really beautiful place."

"He uses candles?"

"Oh, yes. The house doesn't have electricity - except for a small generator for the kitchen. It's like stepping back in time 200 years."

"I would like to see it."

Quentin spoke then. "I'm sure you will. Finished your lessons, Amy?"

"I'm on break," she told him. "David's taking a test. Why didn't you go into work this morning?"

"I'm taking some time off. Why don't you go and see if Mrs. Johnson has lunch ready?"

"Sure." The girl ran off toward the kitchen.

Miranda watched her go with a smile. "She's a nice girl."

"Yes, she is. She's had a pretty rough life, although you'd never know it to look at her. Her parents died when she was a baby, and both her brothers died within a few years of each other."

"She hasn't any other family?"

"There's a cousin, I believe, but he's in a sanitarium." He didn't even consider telling her that Amy was his great-granddaughter. She would remember that along with everything else.

Miranda had returned to her contemplation of the portrait. "Quentin, could you take me to the Old House?"

"You won't be able to see him, Miranda."

"I just want to know where the house is," she told him.

"I'll take you there this evening," he promised. "Can you wait until then?"

"I suppose I'll have to."

Amy ran back in, then up the stairs, saying, "Lunch is ready."

60
Julia started the necessary tests at dusk, as soon as Barnabas rose. He seemed nervous, on edge about something. "What's wrong, Barnabas?" "Nothing."

"You're lying to me. I can tell you're troubled."

"Did you see Angelique today?" "I saw Miranda, yes. She seems fine." "Have you contacted Dr. du Bois?" 

"I expect him to return my call tomorrow." He began to put his coat back on. "Don't try to evade the issue, Barnabas."

"I don't know what you mean. Am I free to go now?"

"Yes. But she's not at Collinwood." He looked at her then.  "Where is she?"

"She went for a walk with Quentin." She saw his hand curl into a fist, then relax. With worried eyes, she watched him stalk out of the room.

"You promised to take me to the Old House," Miranda reminded Quentin.

"Later." He was waiting for proof of his suspicions, and it wasn't long in coming. A dog began to howl in the distance, then nearer, and Miranda looked away. "Miranda?" He held her arm.

"I have to go."

"Where?"

"Please. I must go." His hold tightened.

"Not until you tell me where."

"Let me go, Quentin. You wouldn't understand!"

"Oh, but I do, Miranda."

Those words stopped her struggle to free herself momentarily. "You can't!"

She started to fight again. "I'll take you to him, Miranda. Just calm down and look at me."

Barnabas turned from the window. Why hadn't she come to him? Was Quentin stopping her?

"Barnabas. I thought you had gone," Willie said. He'd heard the dogs howling, and was nervous.

"Not yet, Willie."

Holding up a tray, he said, "I gotta take this coffee down to Julia -"

"Then go on." He stared into the fireplace, began calling again. "Come to me. Let no one stop you. I need you."

The front door opened and Miranda entered the room, crossing to stand before him, her eyes bright. "I heard you."

"Why didn't you come when I called the first time?"

"He wouldn't let me."

"Who?"

"She's talking about me, Barnabas," Quentin said, coming into the room.

"Quentin. I warned you last night-"

"I would have stayed out of it, if I hadn't discovered what you had done."

Willie stopped on the threshold. "Excuse me."

"Willie, take Miranda up to Josette's room." He turned to her and took her hand. "Go with Willie while Quentin and I talk. I won't be long."

"All right." She followed Willie up the stairs.

"Barnabas -"

"I know, Quentin. I know. I just wanted to talk to her - but before I realized what was happening -"

"Damn it, you know how dangerous it could be."

"Yes. And it won't happen again."

"I don't believe that. You called her here tonight. If I hadn't been with her - what might've happened?"

"Nothing. I knew she was with you. Julia told me that you had gone for a walk."

"So your jealousy got the better of you. My God, if it wasn't so frightening, I'd laugh."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

61
"You and Angelique. Her jealousy was one of the things about her that you hated. And now you're just as jealous as she ever was."

"I told you to stay away from her last night - "

"And to insure that if I didn't she wouldn't have anything to do with me, you-that's the reason, isn't it?"

"Perhaps. I was afraid of losing her. I can't risk that happening again."

"But to -"

"Don't you think I regretted it?! The moment I realized what I had done, I swore it wouldn't happen again. But tonight, when Julia told me you were together, I - lost control."

Quentin poured himself a brandy and downed it in one swallow. "Look, I can promise not to come between you - except to protect her."

"Yes. Until Julia can isolate the serum, she must be protected."

"Should I take her back to Collinwood with me - or can I leave her here safely?"

"Leave her. Willie and Julia are both here. You have MY word, Quentin. No further harm will come to her."

"Then I'll be going."

Willie came to the bottom step as the door closed behind Quentin. He'd overheard the conversation - not that he'd needed to figure out what was wrong with -Miranda. "Do you want me to bring her back down here?"

"No. I'll see to it."

"Barnabas, should I tell Julia she's here?"

"Not just yet, Willie." He climbed the stairs slowly.

Miranda was looking up at Josette's portrait over the fireplace when he entered the room. "Is everything all right now?"

"Yes. Quentin agreed that I should see you back to Collinwood later."

"Who was she?" Miranda asked, looking up at the portrait again.

Watching her closely, Barnabas answered. "Her name was Josette du Pres. She came here in 1795 to marry my ancestor."

"The one whose portrait was at Collinwood?"

"Yes. She married his uncle instead, so he left for England."

"He must have loved her very much."

"So the family history says."

She looked at him. "Do you doubt it?"

"Not that he loved Josette. I'm sure he did. But from my research I've discovered that there was - someone else."

"Really?"

"When that Barnabas first arrived in Martinique to talk to the Count du Pres about business, the Count and his daughter, Josette, were en route from Paris. Josette's aunt Natalie welcomed him warmly. Her maid was a beautiful young woman with whom Barnabas fell in love. They were quite happy until Josette's return. The Count saw a match between the du Pres and Collins families as good for business - and Josette had fallen quite in love with Barnabas."

"What about his feelings?"

"He was - confused. He knew that his father would gladly welcome Josette - and her father's business - into the family. But a lady's maid? Never. So he chose Josette."

"He sounds rather cold-blooded," she said, bringing a gleam of amusement to Barnabas' eyes. "What happened to the maid?"

"She came to Collinwood for the wedding, refusing to believe Barnabas when he told her he loved Josette. When Josette eloped with his Uncle Jeremiah, Barnabas -who by this time had convinced himself that he truly loved Josette - was heart broken."

"Did he marry the maid?"

"Yes, over his father's objections, as he had feared. In fact, Joshua Collins threatened to disinherit him if he did so. But Barnabas mother gave them this house in the hope that her son and husband would reconcile."

"And did they?"

62
"Not really. They had never been close to begin with. The marriage did not fare well either."

"Why not?"

"There were many reasons. His wife's jealousy of Josette did not end, if anything, it intensified. She became suspicious of his every move. He couldn't pay a call on his mother without his wife accusing him of secretly meeting Josette. Barnabas felt trapped by the marriage, and being disinherited did not help. So he left."

"And his wife?"

"She followed soon after. They settled in England where Barnabas became a successful businessman and they had two children, a son and a daughter."

"Were they any happier there?"

"No. They were too much alike, both intense, quick-tempered, proud. She was still jealous of any other woman in Barnabas' life - even their daughter."

"Such a sad story. What about Josette?"

"Jeremiah died soon after the marriage and she took poison upon discovering that she had no chance of a future with Barnabas."

"What a tragic end for such a beautiful woman."

"You're more beautiful than she ever was, Miranda."

She turned to look at him. "Do you really think so?"

"Let me show you." He led her to the dressing table mirror, being careful to remain to the side so that she couldn't see that he had no reflection. "Look. And tell me what you see."

Miranda gazed at the reflection of her blonde hair and blue eyes. "I'm not sure who I see," she whispered, raising those eyes to his. "I don't know who Miranda du Bois is. But when I'm with you, it doesn't matter. I just want to be with you. In your arms." She took a step toward him.

Frightened by the sudden need in himself, Barnabas opened the door. "Let's go

downstairs. I'll show you some of the house-"

"Barnabas?"

He tensed, knowing that his sudden withdrawal had confused her. "No, Miranda. If I held you now, I would only hurt you."

"You would never hurt me." She placed a hand on his arm. "I need you to hold me. Just for a moment."

Her request was so like one so long ago, just after she had removed the curse from him in 1840, that he was unable to resist and drew her into his arms. "Just for a moment," he repeated. Having her there, where she belonged, was like the culmination of some impossible dream.

"I feel so safe here. It's as if I've always belonged in your arms."

"Perhaps you do."

"I wish I could stay here forever," she sighed.

There was a way, Barnabas thought, brushing her hair from her neck. It would be so simple. So easy. And once done, she would once again be his Angelique. As the last strands of hair fell away, Willie's voice reached him from the doorway. "Barnabas, you're needed downstairs."

Straightening, Barnabas sent the other man a look of gratitude. "Thank you, Willie. Will you take Miranda to the parlour and pour her a glass of port? I'll join you shortly," he told her.

Julia was bent over a microscope when he entered the makeshift lab. "Willie said you wanted to see me?"

"I may be onto something here. I knew I was close when you made me stop my research."

"How soon will you know?"

"By tomorrow evening." She began straightening some slides. "Is Miranda with Willie?"

"You know."

"I know that Quentin brought her here, and why. Don't be angry with Willie,

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Barnabas. He's just concerned, that's all. Afraid that you'll do something foolish."

"Meaning what?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" she asked, holding his gaze now.

Barnabas looked away. "No. No, you don't."

"She may be Miranda right now, but subconsciously, she's still Angelique. When she does start to remember, it could be in bits and pieces - or all at once. Either way, it's going to be a severe shock. And it will be worse if you've - confused her. For both of you."

The hesitation wasn't lost on him. "I'll try not to. Will you be much longer?"

"Another two hours, at least."

"I'll see you later, then. I'm going to walk Miranda back to Collinwood and see Amy."

"Amy was right about this portrait," Miranda said. "The man who sat for this one and the man who sat for the one at Collinwood could be the same man. You must get very tired of people saying that."

"Not at all. Are you ready to go?"

"Must I?"

"Yes," he said firmly but gently.

"Then I'm ready."

Miranda's sleep was disturbed by dreams that night. Strangely vivid dreams of a tropical paradise where she and Barnabas walked and fell in love, content and happy -until the arrival of a dark haired beauty. Barnabas spent more time away from her with Josette, and when he told her of his decision to marry Josette, she had accepted his decision. With his departure from the island, Miranda woke to bright sunshine outside her window. She was convinced that the dream had been more than just the influence of Barnabas' story. It had been too real. The only thing she couldn't recall was her name in the dream. Barnabas hadn't even mentioned the name of the woman who even-

tually married his ancestor. As she began to dress, she noticed that the marks on her neck were fading.

Julia replaced the telephone receiver and looked at the notes before her. The date which Miranda had appeared at Henri du Bois' private clinic was barely a day after the accident in which Angelique had reportedly been killed. Dr. du Bois was sure she had walked quite a distance, and she had been suffering from shock and exposure. The elderly physician had grudgingly admitted that he hadn't tried very hard to discover his patient's identity, since she had borne a strong resemblance to his recently deceased daughter. The study door opened.

"Oh. Excuse me, Doctor. I didn't know anyone was in here." Miranda started back out.

"Don't go, Miranda. I was hoping you'd come in."

"You were?"

"I'd like to ask you a few questions. Mrs. Stoddard has told me your story. I'm not sure if anyone has mentioned it, but I'm a psychiatrist, and I've handled cases like yours before."

"I understand."

"I just spoke to Dr. du Bois. He sent his regards, by the way. He told me what he tried, but I'd like to try some of them again, if you don't mind."

"I'd welcome any help, Dr. Hoffman."

"Tell me the first thing you remember."

"I remember walking, no, stumbling along a road. It seemed I had been walking forever. Suddenly I came up on a building. It looked so warm and welcoming, I went inside."

"There are no memories prior to that?"

"I'm - not sure, Doctor."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the airport in New York. I know I'd been there before. And - Collinsport."

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"What about Collinsport?"

"Nothing in particular. A certain view, things like that. I was drawn here, doctor. From the moment I read the towns name in Mrs. Stoddard's advertisement, I knew I had to come here, even if I didn't get the job. There's a key to my memory here somewhere. I just have to find it." She walked to the window. "I may be getting close."

"Oh?"

"I don't understand how, but when I first saw the Old House last night, it looked -familiar. And - Josette's room. Then, last night, I had a dream."

"Tell me about it." Julia listened closely. "That's where it ended?"

"And I woke up. I'm not sure how much was Barnabas' influence. He told me about his ancestor and how he met Josette and the woman he finally married. But he didn't tell me her name, and I can't seem to recall it from the dream. Do you know it, by any chance?"

"I may," Julia said reluctantly.

Miranda's blue eyes narrowed. "Dr. Hoffman, have I been here before?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Mrs. Stoddard's reaction to my arrival. She looked surprised to see me. As if I were someone she knew and hadn't expected to see again."

"If I said you were right, would you leave it at that? Not ask any more questions right now?"

"Why?"

Julia sighed. "In order for your memory to return as it should, it would be best if you aren't told anything more about your past."

"Not even my name?"

"I think that when the time is right, you'll recognize it when you hear it."

"And the time isn't right?"

"No, not yet."

Miranda paced around the room. "If you think it's that important, doctor, then I'll wait."

"A very wise decision. I want you to feel free to discuss anything with me, Miranda. Whether it concerns your memory, or -"

"Or Barnabas?" she asked.

"Yes."

Quentin caught up with Julia as she was on her way to the Old House. "Did you talk to Miranda?"

"This morning. I think Angelique's memory is trying to return."

"How about Barnabas? Any progress there?"

"I'll know something this evening."

She was filling a hypodermic needle when the door to the lab opened. "Good evening, Barnabas. I have the first injection prepared."

"You've isolated it?" he asked, removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeve.

"I told you I would. Now, I won't have a time frame until I can measure the rate of progress," she cautioned, administering the serum.

"I understand. How is Miranda?"

Julia told him about her conversation with the woman.

A storm blew in and Barnabas decided not to go to Collinwood that evening. Miranda stood by the window in the drawing room, watching the fury of the elements clash in the sky. Carolyn came to join her. "See anything?"

"Only the storm."

"They've always seemed more severe at Collinwood than anywhere else. We've been lucky these last few days, having such good weather. I hope storms don't bother you?"

"No. No, they don't," Miranda assured her, then suddenly realized that she had spoken the truth. There was something about a storm that made her feel totally alive.

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"They do me. that's strange, isn't it? Especially since I grew up here. But every time something happens here, it seems there's a storm. Or maybe it's the other way around." The lights flickered and went out, leaving only the fire in the grate to illuminate the large room. "I'll get some candles."

Miranda remained at the window, wondering if Barnabas were standing at the parlour window of the Old House, thinking about her.

Her dreams that night were much as before, only this time she was at the Old House with Barnabas. She had just arrived earlier in the day, and went to his room for a grand reunion. But Barnabas had been so cold and distant, insisting that he loved Josette and would marry her. That what had happened between them was over, and he had sent her away. Miranda woke, wrote down what she recalled of the dream, just as Julia Hoffman had suggested she do.

Falling asleep again, she had another dream near dawn. In this one, she was in her room at the Old House, furious, seeking a means for revenge. A wooden toy soldier and one of Barnabas' handkerchiefs were on a nearby table. Josette had arrived only minutes before, and bitter memories of another scene between herself and Barnabas, when he had kissed her, then asked if they could be friends, fired her fury to fever pitch.

She tied the handkerchief around the toy soldier's neck, began to slowly tighten it. From downstairs, she heard Josette's voice, calling frantically for help.

Suddenly she was with Josette at Barnabas' bedside, and sent Josette for the medal of St. Pierre to help them pray for his recovery. Barnabas told her he was dying, and panic-stricken, she ran back to her room, began trying to loosen the tightly knotted piece of cloth. Finally, it was free, and she realized that killing Barnabas would solve nothing. But that preventing the marriage would, and she vowed to find a way to stop Barnabas from marrying Josette.

After telling Julia about the dreams, Miranda turned to face the doctor. "Is it possible that I could somehow be that woman's reincarnation?"

"Who do you mean?"

"The first Barnabas' wife. I still don't know her name."

Julia was thoughtful. "There is a way to see if your dreams have a basis in true memory."

"Then tell me how, and I'll do it."

"The two rooms in your dream. Barnabas' and - his wife's before their marriage. I know which rooms they are. If you can show them to me, then that will be proof."

"I have the day off -"

"I'd rather Barnabas be there, and he's not available until later. Why don't you explore the grounds?" she suggested.

Miranda was walking rather aimlessly through the woods when a glimpse of white through the trees caught her eye. Approaching, she saw an ancient cemetery and a large, white marble building at the back. She felt drawn to the iron gate guarding the entrance to what was obviously a mausoleum.

There were three marble tombs in the open room, and Miranda examined the bronze plaques mounted on the back wall. "Joshua Collins." Barnabas' father. "Naomi Collins. And - Sarah Collins." Her hand reached out to touch and trace the third one. Sarah. Why was that name familiar? She didn't recall having heard it in her dreams. What was it?

The sound of the iron gate squeaking on its hinges made her turn quickly. "I thought I saw you come in here."

"Quentin. Were you following me?"

"Just trying to make sure you didn't get lost. Cousin Barnabas would never forgive me if you did. It's easy to do in these woods. Why did you come in here?"

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"I don't really know. Joshua and Naomi were the first Barnabas' parents, weren't they?"

"Yes. And Sarah was his younger sister." He noticed that her hand reached out again. "Let's get out of here."

She paused beside Jeremiah and Josette's graves, then at another, well-kept grave, an oddity in this forsaken place. "Valerie Collins. Died -1840. Who was she?"

"The daughter-in-law of the first Barnabas. She died while she and her husband were visiting Collinwood."

"How did she die? Do you know?"

"She confessed to having been a witch and was shot by a religious fanatic."

"What about her husband?"

"That was the irony of it. The marriage had been in trouble for some time. Barnabas, the son, thought Valerie selfish, uncaring of other people's troubles. But when she risked her own life by admitting to being a witch in order to save the lives of her husband's cousins, Barnabas was confused, uncertain of his feelings. He was about to tell her that he loved her - that he always had - when she was killed."

"How tragic."

"Oh, Barnabas, returned to England, eventually remarried, but he never recovered from Valerie's death. His heart was still here. That's a problem with most men in the Collins family. Our big weakness is always a beautiful woman."

Her blue eyes met his. "Are you speaking from personal experience?"

"Could be. Come on. By the time we get back, lunch will be ready, and Maggie is due back from the village."

"She's very understanding, isn't she?"

"She has to be."

Julia left early, Miranda agreed to meet her at the Old House later. The doctor gave Barnabas his injection, telling him about Miranda's latest dreams. He agreed not to pressure her, but Julia could see that he was disturbed by the things she told him.

When Miranda arrived, Barnabas poured her a glass of port. "Did Dr. Hoffman tell you about my dreams?" she asked.

"Yes. They coincide with entries in my ancestor's journals," he told her.

"Why don't we go and find those rooms?" Julia suggested.

"A good idea, Julia. Which one first?"

Miranda thought for a moment. "His room, I think." She led them unerringly to a room on the second floor, then opened it, entering. "Yes," she said, turning to look at Barnabas. "This is the one. The furniture is-almost the same." She seemed uncertain. "It was his, wasn't it?"

"Yes. What is different about it?" He watched in silence as she moved to the window, began to finger the drapes.

"These. They were a different colour, material."

He nodded at Julia, then looked back at Miranda, uncertain of what he saw in her eyes. She smiled. "And now her room."

Again he and Julia followed, this time up to the old servants' quarters on the third floor. Barnabas had restored them along with the rest of the house. Miranda knelt before the cold, dark grate. "Yes," she said softly. "This was where she performed her spells and incantations. Where she caused Jeremiah to elope with Josette and be married on the very day Josette was to have married Barnabas. She used Josette's handkerchief and lock of Jeremiah's hair, fastened them together with the web of a spider. Then she made a love potion. But all of her scheming achieved nothing. It never got her the one thing she wanted: Barnabas' love."

Julia's gaze moved from the woman to Barnabas' taut features. Reliving it all this way was agony for him. "Miranda -"

She didn't seem to hear the softly spoken name - nor did Barnabas move as she continued to remember that time. "She never thought that Barnabas would challenge his uncle to a duel, and to insure Barnabas would be the victor, she gave him an amulet with special powers. He agreed to marry her, then changed his mind after

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seeing Josette again. So she used his love for Sarah against him."

"She got Sarah's doll, and some stickpins and caused the child to be near death. When Barnabas came to her, distraught, half out of his mind, she agreed to prepare an herb tea to cure Sarah - on the condition that Barnabas marry her once Sarah was well. He gave his word, and the child recovered. She convinced Barnabas not to wait, and they were married in this house, downstairs. But even that first night she realized that he still believed that he loved Josette. When Barnabas discovered the truth, that his wife was a witch, he tried to shoot her." She placed a hand to her right shoulder, as if she could still feel that wound. "Thinking that she was dying, she placed a curse on him: that all who loved him would die. When she recovered, she tried to stop the curse. To save his life, but it was no use. Barnabas died, and when she went that night to destroy him before he could rise as one of the living dead, he strangled her in his fury, making her the first victim of her own curse. But she did not remain dead. She caused Josette to run from Barnabas in terror and jump from Widows' Hill. She never wanted to harm anyone. All she wanted was Barnabas' love. Had Jeremiah lived, so much would have been different."

Barnabas stood motionless, listening to her retell the events that had destroyed so many lives, hearing the regret - and the guilt. She was right about Jeremiah. If he only accepted Josette's marriage and not challenged his uncle to that duel - . He met Julia's eyes, asking a silent question. Perhaps, with Angelique's memories so fresh in her mind, the time was right. Julia nodded slowly. Moving quietly, he went to stand before the kneeling woman. "Angelique."

Her head came up, the blue eyes revealing confused recognition. "Barnabas." She looked around, disoriented. "What are we doing here?" she asked, coming to her feet.

"Don't you remember?"

She placed a hand on her head. "I'm -not sure. I - " She collapsed into Barnabas' arms.

"Julia."

"Put her on the bed."

He watched anxiously as Julia did a hurried examination. "What's wrong with her, Julia?"

"Perhaps, the shock of remembering everything so suddenly."

"She'll be all right?"

"With some rest, I think so. Let me go get my bag so I can tell more about her condition."

As Julia left, he pulled the quilt over Angelique to ward off the slight chill of the room. They had another chance, he thought to himself. Things would be very different this time.

"Barnabas?" she whispered, her eyes opening. "Why are you here? Has Mademoiselle Josette arrived?"

"No," was his quiet response, realizing that her mind was in the past, before the tragedy had begun. Perhaps - Perhaps he could use this to prove some things - to himself, at least. "I wanted to talk to you." He rose from the side of the bed and went to the window.

Angelique sat watching. "About our talk in your room earlier?" she guessed.

"Yes. I was wrong to send you away as I did. I should not have denied my true feelings."

She got off of the bed, not noticing her modern-day clothing, and came to stand at his side. "And what are those feelings?"

"That I love you," he said simply, and was rewarded by a sudden glow in those eyes.

But she was still wary. "And -Josette?"

"What I feel for her is different." He looked down at her. "I must marry her, Angelique. The plans are made, too many people will be hurt if I refuse to do so now."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Convincing her of what? Tell me."

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

"Does it concern me?"

"It - did," she admitted reluctantly.

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

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

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

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

"But you fell."

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

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

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

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

"Enough."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you, Julia."

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

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

"In our room."

"Our room? I had the strangest dream."

He smiled. "What about?"

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Barnabas paced across the room to stand under the portrait. "I have explained that. How many times must I do so? I was wrong. I admit it. I should never have left you behind."

Angelique was off the bed and headed for the door. "This will never work. There are too many harsh words between us. We still argue constantly."

Barnabas was the door before her, locking it, pocketing the key. "Neither of us

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is leaving this room until we finish this - or dawn, whichever comes first."

"You're impossible!"

"No. I - am - in - love," he stated slowly, emphasizing every word. "With you. And I will not allow you to walk out of my life. Our destinies were joined those nights on Martinique," he said, using her words of long ago against her, "and all of the things that have happened since only joined them more tightly together. Angelique, I was forced to deny my feelings to prevent your throwing your life away on someone who could never have been yours. But things are different now. We are both free, and as soon as Julia's serum ends the Leviathan curse, you will marry me."

Surprised by his forcefulness, Angelique went still. "I want to, Barnabas, but all we ever seem to do is quarrel."

"This quarrel will be settled."

"I don't even know what we're quarrelling about this time," she protested.

He lifted her chin to see her face. "Are you still jealous of Josette?"

"No. I can't honestly say that I could have shared you with her indefinitely. I believe that you would have been forced to choose between us sooner or later - but no. I'm no longer jealous of her. Nor of Roxanne - or Vicki Winters."

"Good. Because you've no reason to be jealous." He let her go and watched as she went to the window. "I'm not so sure that I haven't reason to be, however."

She looked at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I accepted your reason for the interest in Quentin in 1897, and your marriage as Cassandra to Roger was only a means to return to Collinwood. But I would like an explanation for why you married Sky Rumsen. Now."

Unsure, Angelique turned back to the window. "I don't owe you an explanation for that."

His hands grasped her shoulders roughly and turned her to face him. The sight of jealous fury in his eyes frightened

Angelique, and she began to struggle against his grip. "Why?" she cried out.

Barnabas' grip loosened, his hands beginning to caress her bruised shoulders. "Because every time I think of you with him, in his arms, like this - " he pressed his lips to hers and wasn't really surprised by her passionate response. "Oh, Angelique," he told her at last. "I love you so much that the mere thought of another man having touched you -"

She smiled seductively. "You're the only one who ever really touched my heart, my darling. I had given up on your ever loving me. When I met Sky, I saw a chance to start over. He - reminded me of you in some ways. I really loved him, just as you loved Josette, I suppose. But when you came to Little Windward to ask my help, I knew I hadn't been honest with myself. I still loved you, but I would have stayed with Sky - because nothing had changed. You are the only man I have ever truly loved, Barnabas. There's no need for you to be jealous Sky - of anyone." This time, she pulled his head down to meet her waiting lips...

Angelique woke to a light knock on the door. She was alone, and a glance at the windows told why. It was after dawn. The knocking became more insistent, so she pulled on the robe that Barnabas had thoughtfully left for her, and opened the door. Julia stood in the hall with a tray of food.

"Willie fixed breakfast for us. I thought we might as well have it up here."

"Come in, Julia." She looked at her watch. "It's later than I realized."

"I thought you might need your rest."

"Thank you. Did you see Barnabas this morning?"

"I had to give him his injection - he told me you had fully recovered your memory."

"I thought he might. Julia, how much longer will it be until he's cured?"

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"At least four weeks, possibly a little longer."

"Four weeks."

"You sound as impatient as he did earlier," Julia said with a smile. She had been concerned when Barnabas had reluctantly admitted what had occurred in this room early this morning, concerned that he had taken a dangerous risk. But seeing Angel-ique's glowing face now, she found it almost impossible to caution the woman against being with Barnabas.

"It's strange, isn't it, Julia? After all these years, and all that's happened, I'm afraid to believe that it's anything more than a dream."

"It's not. If nothing else, this room should be proof."

"Yes. This room. When did he do all of this?"

"After word came that you'd been killed in France. He had me go out to Little Windward to get the portrait."

Something in the doctor's voice drew her attention. "Under protest?" Angelique took a sip of coffee before continuing. "Barnabas and I may have settled our differences, but you and I, well, we have to talk, Julia."

"About what?"

"I've known for some time how you feel about Barnabas. I'm sure my return must be difficult for you."

"Angelique, I was forced to accept that you were the only woman who could ever make him happy when I saw how your death affected him. Amy's arrival was the only thing that kept him from going mad. He had ordered me to stop my experiments, and I'm not sure how much longer any of us could have controlled him, protected him. He was happier this morning than I can recall ever seeing him. That in itself is worth more to me than you can possibly know. Barnabas' happiness is the most important thing. I know you and I haven't always agreed on what that happiness should be, but I value Barnabas' friendship too much to allow our past differences to colour my judgement."

"Then we can make a fresh start?"

"Yes."

There was a knock on the door before it was opened by Quentin. "Good morning, ladies." He sat beside Angelique. "Willie told me the news. You're looking very well, Angelique."

"Thank you. I hope Mrs. Stoddard wasn't too worried when Julia and I didn't return last night."

"She understood that you had probably been caught by the storm and decided to stay here."

"I'd better go and let her know that my memory has returned."

"If you're worried about leaving her without a secretary, don't be," Quentin said. "She told me last evening that there had been several answers to her ad. She wasn't sure why she chose yours, unless it was because you had recently been in France, and when you arrived she hired you because of Barnabas."

"That was my reason," Elizabeth confirmed later. "Something told me to choose Miranda du Bois' letter over the rest, and that feeling was justified when you arrived. One look at Barnabas' face, and I knew I had to keep you here until your memory returned, and the only way to do that was to give you the job."

"You're very fond of Barnabas, aren't you, Mrs. Stoddard?"

"Yes. I think it's past time he was happy. I get the impression that he hasn't had very much happiness in his life."

"No, and I certainly didn't contribute any. Remind me to tell you about it sometime," she said, seeing the curiosity on the older woman's face. "I'll stay on if you want me to, Mrs. Stoddard, until you find someone else."

"Nonsense. You're a guest here. And I'm sure you'll soon be a member of the family."

"Thank you."

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Carolyn didn't look away from the window as she spoke. "Someone should tell Amy."

Angelique watched her. "Carolyn, I'm sorry if my being here is a painful reminder -"

"No, it's not. I never blamed you for what Sky did. You and he had already separated when he killed Jeb."

Any further conversation on the subject was lost as Amy came into the room, stopping warily as she noticed all eyes on her. "What's going on?"

Angelique smiled, then looked at Elizabeth. "I think it might be best if I speak to her alone."

"Of course. The study is empty."

Amy followed her into the room, watching the blonde woman closely. Once the door was closed, she said, "You know who you are now, don't you?"

"Yes, Amy. I remembered last night."

"Does Barnabas know?"

"He was there."

"Are you going to marry him?"

"Do you think I should?"

Amy answered without hesitation. "Yes. Barnabas loves you. And you love him. I saw that when you were here before."

"You did?"

"It was obvious. Every time you looked at him. And when two people love each other, they should get married."

"I agree," Angelique said, amused by the matter of fact statement. But there was something bothering the girl, and she understood the cause. "You're worried about what it will mean to you, aren't you?"

"Well, Barnabas is my guardian, and his marrying will affect me."

"Of course it will. I have to admit, Amy, that I never expected to take even partial responsibility for an adolescent, but the more I think about it, the more I like the idea. Especially if that adolescent is you."

"Do you mean that?"

"You'll learn very quickly that I seldom say anything that I don't mean, Amy. Think of the fun we can have together: shop-

ping, making plans to semi-modernize the Old House -"

"Will Barnabas agree to that?"

"I'm sure he will. The plumbing is practically non-existent, and the kitchen needs modernization."

"There's already a gas-powered generator for the kitchen."

"I know, but I'd rather leave the rest of the house as it is, candles, lamps -"

Amy was in complete agreement. "The house wasn't meant for electricity." Her features fell. "It'll take for ever to finish."

"Not if we start immediately. Let's make our plans, and we can talk to Barnabas about them this evening."

"Great!"

Amy caught Barnabas at the door. We have to talk."

"About what?"

"About the Old House. Angelique and I have talked about it -"

"And what did you decide?" he asked.

"You admitted when I first arrived that some work needed to be done, do you remember?"

"I do."

"Well, Angelique and I have drawn up some plans for that work."

"I'm sure they'll be fine, Amy," he assured her with an indulgent smile. "May I assume from this conversation that you approve of my plans?"

"Marrying Angelique? Of course. We're going to Bangor tomorrow to do some shopping."

"I see."

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I have some school work to finish. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He turned and went into the drawing room, finding Angelique sitting beside Elizabeth. Under the family's approving eyes, he bent to give her a very chaste kiss. "Good-evening."

Her eyes told him how much she'd missed him as Roger spoke, offering him a sherry. "I would have brought up some

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champagne, but Liz convinced me to wait until the wedding. Congratulations, Barnabas."

"Thank you, Roger. I'm a very lucky man."

"Yes, indeed. Second chances don't come along every day, do they? I know my second chance at marriage - " he broke off, looking closely at Angelique.

"Is something wrong, Uncle Roger?"

"I was just thinking about Cassandra - my last wife," he explained to Angelique, "and it suddenly struck me how much you resemble her." Barnabas moved nearer Angelique's side, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Don't any of you see it? Except for the colour and style of her hair, they could be twins."

"You're right, Roger," Elizabeth said in agreement. "That's who you reminded me of when we first met, Angelique: Cassandra."

Barnabas, concerned for Angelique, began to speak, but she cut him off. "There's no reason to hide it any longer, darling. I should have known that the truth would out sooner or later."

"Angelique -"

Her eyes met his. "I can handle it, Barnabas." She looked at Roger and Elizabeth. "There is a reason why I look like Cassandra. She and I are twins, regrettably. In fact, I'm somewhat responsible for her ever coming to Collinwood."

Barnabas relaxed, saw that Julia had as well. But Roger had questions. "How?"

"You're all aware that I met Barnabas in England before he came here? It's a long story, and not very flattering to myself," she smiled as Barnabas took her hand in his, then continued. "But suffice it to say that I was angry and hurt afterwards. I ran into Cassandra and Nicholas in Paris and made the mistake of telling them about Barnabas. Never one to miss an opportunity, Nicholas decided that Cassandra would never have let Barnabas - I think the term he used was 'slip through her fingers', and decided to prove it. I wrote to Barnabas, hoping to

warn him, but Cassandra had already married you, Roger, by the time the letter reached him."

"What on earth did she have to gain by marrying me?" Roger asked. "If she came here for Barnabas -"

"It was all part of Nicholas' grand scheme. A devious one, but quite normal for him. There was little love lost between my siblings and myself, I'm afraid. Anyway, the plan. Cassandra was to marry you, and then, after gaining admission to Collinwood through that marriage, make Barnabas fall in love with her. Since neither Nicholas nor Cassandra wanted to remain in Collinsport, they thought that if Barnabas fell in love with his cousin's wife he would be unable to remain here and would ask her to leave with him. I tried to tell them it wouldn't work. They had no idea how stubborn and intractable Barnabas can be, and my warning to him insured that he would be on his guard. When Cassandra realized that I had been right, she - left. Dear Cassandra was never one for sticking around when things began to get messy."

"Where is she now?"

"I'm not really sure. The last I heard, she was with some Italian count. Nicholas never forgave her for spoiling his plan."

Carolyn spoke at last. "You were both here in Collinsport, and you never said a word. Not even when - when Nicholas was with Sky."

"We both preferred it that way, Carolyn. Our parents were divorced when we were all very young, and Nicholas and Cassandra went with our father back to his home in Philadelphia. I stayed with Mother in France. Father was very like Nicholas. Charming, conniving, devious. Nicholas just took up where he left off."

Roger's gaze shifted to Barnabas. "You knew about Cassandra that summer and never said a word.

"That's not fair, Roger," Elizabeth intervened. "Barnabas did try to warn us."

"In a very vague way."

"I admit that, Roger, but you wouldn't have listened to the full story. Or believed it."

"You can't be sure of that."

"I can, Roger," Angelique said. "Nicholas, besides being a charming schemer, was an avid student of the occult. So was Cassandra. I am very sure that she placed some sort of spell on you to make you marry her."

"A spell"?" he questioned, openly skeptical. Then his eyes narrowed. "I don't suppose you are also interested in the - occult?"

"I was," she said honestly. "But not anymore. I have all I can ever possibly need or want now," she told him, looking up at Barnabas. "I am sorry for the trouble those two caused."

"There's no reason for you to apologize. You weren't responsible for anything they did."

"Thank you, Mrs. Stoddard."

"Please, call me Elizabeth, Angelique. You're practically a member of the family, after all."

Barnabas saw the expression that crossed Angelique's face. "Amy was telling me about some sort of plans?"

"Why don't you take me for a walk and we'll discuss them?" she suggested.

Once they were far enough away from the house not to be overheard or observed, Barnabas pulled Angelique into his arms for a long kiss. When he let her go, she asked rather breathlessly, "What was that for?"

"That story. You are a remarkable actress. I almost believed it myself."

"It was the only way I could think of to satisfactorily explain the resemblance. And it gave me the chance to apologize for the things Cassandra did. I've no doubt that I'll have to think up another story about you and I in London to satisfy Mrs. Stoddard's -Elizabeth's curiosity."

"Her acceptance means a great deal to you, doesn't it?"

"She reminds me of - someone else."

"My mother. She is like her in some ways. My mother accepted you."

"Yes. But only for your sake."

"About those plans that Amy mentioned?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I have them with me. I'll show them to you at the Old House."

"Very well. Amy is quite taken with you."

"You sound surprised."

"No, only pleased. I was concerned that you and she might not get along."

"Amy's growing up. She needs a woman's influence in her life. And she also needs the stability for a home and family."

"Something you never had?"

"I had a home, and my mother, but -"

"You wanted more."

"I suppose. I know I missed having a family."

"You have one now," he told her as they entered the Old House. Inside, he poured her a glass of port. "I'm still curious about those plans."

She handed him the pages and sat down, sipping her wine as he bent over the sketches. "Where is Willie?"

"I gave him the evening off, and Julia won't be back until much later. Who drew these?"

"Amy did. She has a good eye for measurement and detail."

"I approve of these. I'll have Willie contact the proper people to start this tomorrow. The upstairs improvements will be the priority."

"I think, if you don't mind, that Amy would like - Josette's room."

"Why should I mind?" He pulled her up from the chair. "Angelique, you are going to be mistress of this house, and as such you will have complete charge of it and its operation. Whatever changes you want to make, you are free to make them."

"I don't want to change anything. I like this house as it is. I always have. I just wish I could move in right now."

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"So do I," he said, holding her tightly. "Everytime you leave, I'm terrified I'll never see you again. I lost you once -"

She placed her fingers to his lips. "You won't lose me again, my darling. I have no intention of letting that happen." She replaced her fingers with her lips.

After several minutes, Barnabas said, "This is where you belong. Where you've always belonged."

Her smile was seductive again. "I tried to tell you that," she reminded him. "We've wasted so much time."

"Then we shall just have to make it up as best we can," Barnabas said, pulling her more fully into his arms.

It was well after midnight before Quentin and Julia heard the front door open and Angelique say, "Goodnight, Barnabas."

"Goodnight."

"Will you be over early tomorrow evening?"

"As early as I can. Enjoy your day with Amy." There was silence, then the door closed.

Quentin went to the doorway to see Angelique starting for the stairs. "Coming in rather late, aren't we?"

"Quentin."

"How about joining Julia and I for a nightcap?"

"Why not? I thought everyone would be in bed," she told him, slipping her arm through his. "How did your evening with Maggie go?"

"You know me, I never kiss and tell."

She laughed softly. "Hello, Julia."

"Hello."

"So why are you two still up? Not waiting for me, I hope."

"I'm a night person" Quentin said.

"And I just couldn't sleep," Julia explained. "How did your evening go?"

"Wonderfully." ,

Quentin shook his head ruefully. "How does he do it, I wonder?"

"How does who do what?" Julia asked.

"Barnabas. I've never been able to understand why every woman he meets practically falls at his feet." He saw the look of understanding that passed between the two women. "Oh, I don't expect an answer from either of you. You're both too - involved to be objective. I'll see you both tomorrow. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

The next day's outing to Bangor was very enjoyable for both Amy and Angelique. But during the drive back to Collinwood a heavy fog began to roll in, making driving difficult - and dangerous.

They were on the most hazardous stretch of the two lane asphalt when Angelique was forced to swerve suddenly to avoid hitting a car which appeared out of the fog. She lost control of the vehicle on the wet road, only barely managing to keep it away from the cliffs edge and the rocks below.

Amy regained consciousness quickly, found herself in the grassy culvert. When she moved her left arm, she cried out in pain, but somehow managed to scramble to the car. Angelique was slumped over the steering wheel, still unconscious. Amy couldn't smell any gasoline fumes, so she decided it best to leave her where she was. Getting the blanket from the back seat, she wrapped it around the injured woman as best she could. "Don't die, Angelique. Please. Don't die." Using the flashlight from the glovebox, Amy flagged down the first car that passed.

"Carolyn what are you looking at?" Elizabeth asked her daughter. "You've been at the door for a quarter of an hour."

"Angelique said she and Amy would be back before dinner."

"The fog probably slowed them up. Come into the drawing room."

The telephone's shrill ring sounded eerie in the quiet house, and Julia picked it up. "Collinwood...Speaking...Where?...What

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are their conditions?...Yes,...Yes, I'll be right there."

"What is it, Julia?"

She had gone into the foyer and started putting on her coat. Carolyn followed, her uneasiness increasing. "Julia? What is it?"

"There was an accident on the coast road. Amy and Angelique are at the hospital in Collinsport."

A small army of Collinses followed Julia into the building, agreeing to wait in the lobby. Julia went directly to the emergency room. Amy, her left arm in a sling, came running to meet her. "Thank goodness you're here, Julia. She's so still."

"How are you, Amy?"

"Dr. Morgan said that my arm is fractured. Julia, you've got to help Angelique. She's the important one."

"You're just as important." She turned to the nearest nurse. "Meg, take Amy to a room and make sure she lies down. I'll prescribe something for the pain later."

"Yes, Doctor."

John Morgan looked up as Julia entered the room. "I thought I heard you in the hall."

Julia tried to remain detached from Angelique's pale features as she checked the woman's' pulse. "What's wrong with her, John?"

"Concussion, broken ribs, possible ruptured spleen. I was about to take her into x-ray."

"let's go."

The family gathered when they noticed Julia's approach. "Amy has a fractured left arm and she's in mild shock. I'm keeping her here overnight for observation."

"What about Angelique?" Elizabeth asked.

"Her injuries are more serious. Dr. Morgan is taking her into surgery right now for a ruptured spleen."

"Oh, my."

"The trouble is, she's still unconscious, but I don't want to take the risk of internal bleeding."

"Why is she still unconscious, Julia?" Maggie asked, standing with Quentin.

"Mild concussion. The x-rays didn't show anything severe. She also has a couple of broken ribs."

David spoke. "Can I see Amy?"

"Of course. But I'd prefer you not to mention anything about the surgery just yet. She's upset enough as it is. Would you go with him, Maggie? Meg can show you the room."

Maggie slipped away from Quentin. "Come on, David."

"I'll go find Barnabas," Quentin decided.

I'll walk you to the door." She told him to bring a vial of serum so she could give Barnabas his injection.

"I will. She is going to be all right, isn't she, Julia?"

"I'm sure of it. Her injuries aren't life threatening at the moment. Or they won't be after surgery. Make sure Barnabas knows that."

"I will. I'm not sure what he'd do if he lost her now."

"I am sure."

Quentin glanced out at the darkening sky. "By the time I get there, it should be almost dark. See you."

Amy was alone again, sitting on the bed when Julia came in. "I wish you would try to rest, Amy. You need to rest."

"Not until Barnabas get here. I have to explain."

"He won't blame you, Amy. It wasn't your fault."

Amy wasn't listening, and Julia knew she was remembering Sabrina's death, her inability to prevent it, and Chris' reaction. "Why isn't he here?"

"He will be soon. Quentin's on his way to the Old House."

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Quentin had retrieved the serum and had just finished a brandy when Barnabas entered the parlour. "Quentin. Where is Julia?"

"In Collinsport."

Barnabas could read his expression too well. "Something has happened."

"There's been an accident. Julia sent me to get you."

Barnabas let Amy cry until she had calmed. As he listened to her narrative of the accident, Barnabas tried not to think about •what was happening in the operating room down the corridor. He was extremely grateful that Amy's injuries weren't more severe. "Julia tells me you refused to go to sleep."

"I wanted to see you. You're not angry with me, are you?"

"Of course not. You and Angelique are the most important things in my life, Amy. Will you try and rest now?"

"Yes."

"I'll see you later, then." He kissed her forehead lightly and went out to where Julia was waiting in the hall.

"How is she?"

"I think she'll sleep now."

"Angelique is in Recovery, Barnabas. The surgery went well. You can go in for a minute."

She looked so pale, he thought. There was a bandage on her forehead, along with a few bruises. Taking her hand in his, Barnabas gently brushed her hair back from her face. "Oh, my beautiful Angelique. You must recover. To lose you now, just when we've found each other -I couldn't stand it. I love you. I need you."

It was almost two a.m. before Angelique stirred and opened her eyes. She had been transferred to a private room an hour earlier, and hearing her move, Barnabas turned from the window to go to the bed. "Barnabas. Where - the fog. Amy. Where is Amy?"

"She's in another room, resting. She's all right."

She managed a weak smile. "I seem to have done it again, haven't I?"

"You're all right now. That is all that I care about, my darling."

He saw her wince in pain, and said, I'll go get Julia."

Barnabas stayed as long as he could at the hospital before returning to the Old House. He had come to a decision during those long hours at Angelique's bedside, but the evening was the earliest that he could make that decision known.

Julia was waiting to give him the injection when he rose at dusk. "Amy's back at Collinwood," she told him. "And Angelique is making a remarkable recovery."

"You said last night that she would have to stay in the hospital for at least a week?"

"Yes, and then she'll need another week to regain her strength. She was very lucky, Barnabas."

"How much longer do you estimate it will be before I am cured?"

"Around four weeks, why? What are you planning, Barnabas?"

"Why do you think I'm planning anything, Julia?"

"Because I know you. You haven't looked me in the eyes once this evening, and that always means that you're going to do something that you think I won't approve of your doing. Now, why don't you just save us both some time and aggravation and tell me what's going on?"

"You'll see, Julia," was his only response.

He stopped by Collinwood to see Amy, and after speaking with her alone, left for the village. Angelique's eyes were closed when he entered the room, and for a moment, he thought her to be asleep, and

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reached out to touch her cheek. She smiled. "I've been waiting for you."

"I went to see Amy. There was something I needed to discuss with her."

She indicated the crystal vase filled almost to overflowing with red blooms. "Thank you for the roses."

"I sent Willie to order them. I remember once your mentioning that you liked flowers."

"Yes," she said, recalling that she had said it to his mother after their wedding so long ago. "You look very pleased with yourself this evening."

"I think I have reason to be. Amy is well, you will soon be out of here and where you belong."

"At Collinwood?"

"For a week," he agreed. "After that -"

"Barnabas, what are you talking about?"

"After you've recovered there for a week, you'll be moving into the Old House."

"Indeed?"

Barnabas sat carefully on the edge of the bed and took her left hand in his. "I don't want to wait for Julia's serum to take effect. I want us to be married as soon as possible."

"But - the curse -"

"I know. It's unfair to you, but I will not take the chance of losing you."

"You're forgetting Amy. If we marry, won't she expect to move into the Old House as well?"

"Remember that I told you I spoke to Amy? She understands my reason for wanting to marry you as soon as possible. And she suggested that we might appreciate some time alone together before she moves in. It will also give you the chance to personally oversee the work being done on the house. Now, have you any other obstacles to put in our path?"

"It sounds wonderful, my darling, but we must be sensible."

"Why? I've done what was expected of me for too long, Angelique. Not this time. I refuse to live by someone else's rules any longer." He pulled a square, black velvet box

from his pocket. "This is for you. I placed the order with the jeweler the day after you arrived in Collinsport. Willie picked it up this morning."

Angelique's eyes grew wide as he opened the box to reveal a smaller version of his own black onyx ring. "Oh, Barnabas."

"Shall I put it on?"

"Y-Yes," she said, her voice a whisper.

He slid the ring onto her finger. "It looks right there." His kiss was a promise. "No more obstacles?"

"No," she said, smiling. "No more obstacles." She touched his face. It was a change, having him so in charge. He reminded her more of Aaron now than he ever had before. "I'll marry you whenever you want me to."

Julia had other ideas, however. She tried every argument she could think of to convince Barnabas to wait until he was cured, but he refused to listen. She even tried to recruit Quentin to help, but he wouldn't do so. "They're grown ups, Julia," he'd said. "They're both aware of the danger of what they're planning, and they're willing to take that risk because they love each other. Leave them alone."

In the end, Julia gave up and did all she could to help with the wedding preparations.

During that week at Collinwood, Elizabeth, Carolyn, Julia, Maggie and Amy helped to plan a small ceremony at the Old House. So it was that - two weeks after the accident - Angelique again became Mrs. Barnabas Collins.

But this time there were differences. The entire family was present, approving this marriage. And the room was filled with fresh-cut flowers. Barnabas admitted that it had been his idea, once everyone had gone.

"I wanted this time to be different," he told her. "A happy memory to erase the old one."

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"It is a happy memory, Barnabas. Thank you."

Willie came down the stairs as Barnabas ended the kiss. "Excuse me. Everything's ready."

"Thank you, Willie."

Willie had extinguished all but a few candles in the bedroom. When she entered, Angelique felt for a moment that the clock had somehow been turned back almost 200 years. Their wedding night then had been spoiled by her jealousy. Not this time, she vowed. This time, there was no music-box— she gasped upon seeing the beribboned box on the dressing table. "What is - that?" she asked uncertainly.

"My wedding gift to you. Open it."

She did so, lifting the silver box from inside. "it's - lovely." When the lid was opened to reveal the red-velvet interior, the music-box mechanism began to play a tune she recalled hearing the Countess play on the harpsichord the night after she and Barnabas had become lovers on Martinique.

"Do you like it?"

"Oh, yes. Thank you. I - haven't anything for you."

"Your being here is enough, my darling." He pulled her into his arms...

Maggie snuggled into Quentin's arms as they sat watching the fire in his West Wing rooms. "It was a nice wedding, wasn't it?" she commented.

"If you like weddings, I suppose so." She looked up at him. He had been in a strange mood all evening. "Quentin, is there something wrong?"

"No. Why do you ask?" "You haven't been yourself -" He smiled. "Of course I have. Who else would I be?"

"Angelique made a lovely bride -" Quentin moved away and rose to pour himself a drink, hovering for a moment over the whiskey before picking up his usual

brandy. "Would you stop talking about the wedding? If I were suspicious, I'd think you were hinting."

"No. Of course not. We agreed -"

"Ah, yes. But people change their minds, decide they don't want just a friendly relationship. They suddenly want rings, pieces of paper that make everything all legal and neat -"

"Quentin," she began, but he wasn't listening.

"Well you can just put any of those thoughts out of your pretty little head, Maggie Evans. Because I've no intention of marrying you - or anyone else. Do you understand me?"

"Yes. Yes, I understand. I think I'll go to my room now. Good night, Quentin."

Once the door closed, Quentin shook his head, trying to clear it. What on earth had gotten into him? He hadn't intended to do that, hadn't meant to say those things, hurt Maggie. He downed the brandy and poured another. It was going to be a long night.

The next evening, Angelique was waiting in the parlour when Barnabas came in. She went into his arms, expecting a kiss. But Barnabas made no move to pull her closer, just looked down into her face for several moments. Something about that look chilled Angelique, making her shiver and move away. "Is - something wrong, dar-ling?"

"What could possibly be wrong, Angelique?"

"The way you looked at me just now -"

"What about it?"

"It - frightened me."

"You? Afraid? That doesn't sound at all like you, my dear."

"Perhaps I just imagined it," she said at last, knowing full well that she hadn't imagined anything. "Are you ready to go to Collinwood? Amy's expecting us."

"Yes."

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After watching Barnabas covertly all evening, Angelique was still unable to say with any clarity what the difference was in him. But there was a difference. What could have happened between the time he left her the previous night and dawn? She couldn't very well discuss it with Julia or Quentin since all she had were a few vague feelings with no evidence to give them credence.

Back at the Old House, she sipped a glass of port and watched him staring into the fire. "Barnabas, where did you go after you left me last night?"

He turned to look at her. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just - curious. You left several hours before sunrise."

"I merely went for a walk. Nothing more than that. Satisfied?"

"Where did you walk to?"

"If I didn't know how much you trust me, my dear, I'd say you were checking up on me."

"That's nonsense! Forget I mentioned it. I'm going to bed." She was halfway up the stairs when she stopped and looked back at him. He had returned to his contemplation of the fire. "Are you coming up?"

"Not right now. Later, perhaps."

She tried to hide her confusion and disappointment. "I'll say goodnight, then."

He didn't answer.

Roger was at his desk in the study going over some papers when a sharp pain shot through his chest. He slumped over the desk, unconscious.

Barnabas let a very distraught Carolyn into the Old House a few hours later. "Oh, Barnabas. I was afraid no one would be up."

"I was about to go upstairs. Is something wrong, Carolyn?"

"Is Julia here, by any chance?"

"I believe she is - Willie! Is someone ill?"

"It's Uncle Roger."

Willie came into the room. "Did you call me, Barnabas? Hello, Carolyn."

"Willie, go see if Julia's still here. Tell her that Roger is ill."

"Sure." He disappeared toward the kitchen and the back cellar steps.

"Barnabas? Is something - " Angelique appeared on the stairs, wearing her robe. "Carolyn."

"I came to get Julia. Uncle Roger - I'm afraid he's dying!"

"What?"

"Are you sure, Carolyn?" Barnabas asked calmly. Too calmly for Angelique's peace of mind. Glaring at her husband's lack of real concern, she led Carolyn into the parlour.

"Pour her some brandy, Barnabas. What happened, Carolyn?"

"We don't know. After you left, he went into the study to do some work. When I went in to check why the light was still on, I found him there, unconscious."

Julia came in and, after hearing Carolyn's story, the two women left immediately. Julia pulled Angelique aside, said that she would try to get back before dawn, but in case she couldn't, everything was ready. Angelique nodded in understanding as she watched them drive away. "Do you think we should go too," she asked Barnabas.

"Julia will let us know if we're needed," he said, sounding much more himself. "I hope it's nothing serious. Surely it's not. Roger seemed well enough earlier."

"Yes. Yes, he did, didn't he? I hope Amy sleeps through all of this. She'll be so upset -"

"I know." He took a deep breath. "I think I will go over and make sure that Amy is all right."

"Let me get dressed and I'll go with you -"

"I'd rather you stay here and get some rest before you have to give me that injection. Besides, if Roger is very ill, you'll

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spend all day over at Collinwood, and you'll need your rest."

He put on his coat and gave her a rather absent-minded kiss before leaving. Angelique watched him through the window until he was disappeared into the darkness. "Is Roger gonna be all right?" Willie asked from behind her.

She jumped. "You startled me, Willie. I don't know the answer to your question. But I have one for you. Did you notice anything - different about Barnabas this evening?"

"Different? I'm not sure what you mean," he said nervously.

"Yes, you do, Willie. You saw him before dawn yesterday, didn't you?"

"Yeah. He - he'd gone for a walk.

"Where?"

"How should I know? But he did ask me something. I still don't understand it."

"What did he ask you to do?"

"He told me to go to Eagle Hill -"

"Eagle Hill?"

"He wants me to straighten the headstone on a grave."

"Whose grave, Willie?" she wanted to know, but the answer was hovering around the edge of her consciousness already.

"J. Zachary."

Angelique gripped the doorframe as a wave of terror struck. "Did - did he say why?"

"He just told me to do it. And when Barnabas talks like that, ol' Willie don't ask any questions."

"Did you mention this to Julia?"

"No. I was going to, but Barnabas kept me busy all evening."

"Probably so you wouldn't have the chance to talk to her."

"What's goin' on, Angelique?"

"I don't know, Willie. At least, I hope I don't. I'm going back upstairs. Make sure that I'm awake no later than three."

"I will."

Barnabas watched Julia talk to the ambulance attendant. He was troubled by Roger's sudden illness. Julia returned to where he stood with Elizabeth and Carolyn. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I still don't know what's causing Roger's illness. Perhaps the tests at the hospital will tell me more. I'll call you when they're done or if his condition changes."

"I still think I should go."

"We've already discussed this, Elizabeth. You'll be better off here."

"Julia's right, Elizabeth. You need to rest. Would you go with your mother, Carolyn and make sure that she takes that sleeping pill Julia left for her? I want to talk to Julia for a moment."

"All right. Come on, Mother."

"Thank you for being here, Barnabas."

"Where else would I be? Try to rest." He waited until they were inside the house. "You haven't any idea what is responsible for this, Julia?"

"I wish I did," she sighed.

"Perhaps instead of what, I should have said who."

"What do you mean?"

"Come now, Julia. The facts speak for themselves. Roger is a healthy man, with no physical problems. Suddenly he's stricken with a mysterious ailment -"

"You're not suggesting - no. I don't believe it. Besides, Angelique gave up her powers. And what reason would she have?"

"What reason has she ever needed to hurt people?"

"I still don't believe it. I'm sure that the tests will show some reason - some medical reason - for Roger's condition."

"I hope you're right, Julia. But if those tests show nothing, then I would advise you to think about what I have said."

"I'd better get to the hospital. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

After Willie woke her, Angelique put on her coat and left the house, telling Willie

82
not to let Barnabas know that she had gone out. Walking swiftly, she went to the Eagle Hill Cemetery and hid beside the Collins Family mausoleum, a spot which gave her an unobstructed view of the lone grave on the opposite edge of the graveyard. She knew that Judah's skull had been buried there in 1840 after she had exposed him to save Quentin and Desmond Collins. It had been hoped that a proper burial would help him rest in peace. She had been so certain that he had been destroyed with Gerard Stiles. Could she have been wrong? If what she suspected was true, would she be able to stop him again?

A figure moved into the graveyard, and Angelique forced herself to remain still and quiet as Barnabas moved directly to stand at Judah's grave and stood there, head bowed.

Angelique watched in terrified silence until he finally turned and then she ran from her hiding place taking a short-cut back to the Old House.

She was in the drawing room, waiting, when he arrived. "I was beginning to worry. it's getting late."

"I have plenty of time. Is it ready?"

"Yes." She waited for him to roll up his sleeve, then gave him the shot.

"Well done. You evidently haven't forgotten how to do that," he said, referring to her assisting Julia in curing him in 1897.

"No. I haven't. How is Roger?"

"Julia doesn't know what is wrong with him. He was still unconscious when the ambulance left for the hospital."

"Did you see Amy?"

"Yes. She was doing her best to keep David's spirits up."

"I'll see her later. Julia will be by this evening to give you another injection, I'm sure."

"Yes. I've been thinking about that. Why should she come all the way over here just to give me an injection when you are quite capable of doing it yourself?"

"Barnabas -"

"I think you should mention it to Julia when you see her today. Tell her that you will be giving me the injections from now on."

Deciding not to argue, Angelique agreed and stood there as he left the room to go downstairs.

Her first stop was Collinwood. She stayed there for several hours while Carolyn and Quentin were at the office, then went in to Collinsport. Julia was at the front desk, looking at a chart. "Julia. Has there been any change?"

There was angry accusation in Julia's eyes. "Do you really care, Angelique?"

"Of course I do. Why would you think otherwise?"

"Let's go into my office," she said, looking around. "We can talk there."

"I agree. I think we should talk."

Once inside, Julia faced Angelique. "I've run every test I can think of, and they've all come back negative. There is no medical reason for Roger's condition, Angelique, and that only leaves one other cause."

"I could have told you the reports would be negative, Julia."

"I'm sure you could have. I didn't want to believe it when Barnabas told me what he suspected, but now -"

"You were right not to believe anything he said, Julia. I did not do this. Why would I want to hurt Roger? For the first time, I have what I want. Barnabas. It would be the height of foolishness - no, stupidity -to do something like this now, when everything is going right."

"I know. That's what I keep telling myself. But if you didn't do it, then who -"

"Someone with more reason to hate the Collins family than I ever had. I can't say more right now, Julia. But I want you to continue to go along with Barnabas. Let him think you believe that I'm responsible."

"All right." She sat down. "Did he get his injection this morning?"

"Yes. And afterwards, he informed me that he would prefer that I give them to

83
him from now on. That there's no need for you to come out to the Old House."

"But there is. I have to check on his progress, and the serum is too unstable to be made up more than 48 hours ahead of time."

"I'll tell him -"

"No. I'll do it."

Barnabas didn't appear to be surprised to see Julia in the lab, preparing the hypodermic that evening. "Good evening, Julia. How is Roger?"

"There's been no change."

"I don't understand why she's doing this, what she could possibly hope to accomplish."

"I've no idea. I do want to know why you've decided that Angelique should give you these injections, however."

"What are you talking about?"

"Angelique said that you wanted her to take over for me."

"That's nonsense. I never said any such thing. What did you tell her?"

"The truth. That I have to keep a close watch on your progress. And that serum has to be made up every two days. Barnabas, are you certain you didn't - ?'

"Of course I am, Julia. Don't you see? it's just another part of her plan. She's decided she wants me to remain as I am."

"I'm sure you're wrong about that."

"No. I only wish I were. The injections will continue, Julia, and you will give them to me. I must be cured so that I can fight her. I won't allow her to destroy this family as she almost did once." He buttoned his coat. "Where is she?"

"At Collinwood. She had dinner there this evening."

When Quentin saw Angelique glance toward the door for what had to be the sixth time that evening, he sat down beside her. "Something wrong?"

"I don't really know, Quentin," she said, aware that Maggie, across the room talking to Carolyn, was watching them "I -"

"Trouble in paradise already?" At her confused looked, he said, "Have you and Barnabas had another of your arguments?"

"No. I only wish it were that simple. Can we talk, Quentin?"

"Here?"

"No. Someplace we can't be overheard."

"Let's go to my room, then." He took her arm and turned to Carolyn, ignoring the look in Maggie's eyes.

"We'll be right back. I need to talk to Angelique about something."

Carolyn had seen the look on Maggie's face, and frowned. "You're upset about his being with her, aren't you?"

"Carolyn-"

"What happened, Maggie? You and he seemed to be getting so close, and now all of a sudden you don't seem to be able to speak to each other."

"I wish I knew, Carolyn. All I know is that he's changed. And - he frightens me. Excuse me. I have to go check on the children."

After Quentin closed the door to his suite in the West Wing, he poured himself a glass of brandy. "How about some port?"

"I think I need some brandy tonight."

"Coming up." He gave her a glass, then went to the fireplace, as she sat on the sofa. "Now. Tell Uncle Quentin all about it."

"This is serious, Quentin."

He looked at her. "You mean that, don't you? What's wrong?"

"I don't really know where to begin. I suppose it started two nights ago. Barnabas went for a walk before dawn, and when he returned, he told Willie to repair a headstone at Eagle Hill."

"What stone?"

"Judah Zachary's. Has Barnabas told you about him?"

"Yes."

84
"That evening, Barnabas was so -cold. Frighteningly so. I went to the cemetery and watched Judah's grave. When Barnabas arrived, he went directly to that grave. Quentin, I'm almost positive that Judah is trying to possess him and I don't know what to do."

"Is he responsible for Roger's illness?"

"I believe so. He's trying to make Julia think that I did it, but I hope that I convinced her otherwise this afternoon. I doubt it, though. I'm sure he found something else to damn me in her eyes. Judah hates the Collins family, Quentin. And me. Roger is only the first who will fall. It would appeal to Judah's rather - cruel sense of humor to use Barnabas as his agent to destroy the family. You've no idea how cruel Judah can be, Quentin." She shuddered at the memories that talking about him evoked.

"You really are afraid of him, aren't you? Is there anything I can do to help?'

"The first thing we have to do is find a way to prove that he's Judah."

"Any ideas?"

"I have a plan, but I'll need your help to carry it out."

"I'll do anything. You know that Barnabas and I may have had our differences, but he's been there every time I've needed a friend."

Carolyn was alone in the drawing room when Barnabas and Julia arrived. "I was about to go check Mother," she told them. "Maggie's gone to look in on David and Amy."

"I'll go check Elizabeth, Carolyn. Then I'll call the hospital and see if there's been any change."

"Thank you, Julia."

Barnabas looked around the room. "Where is Angelique."

Carolyn hesitated a moment before answering. "She and Quentin left about a half-hour ago. He said something about

their needing to talk. I think they went to the West Wing."

His eyes locked on the foyer door. "How is your mother this evening?"

"Not much better. Uncle Roger's illness has hit her very hard."

"She depends on him for more than we realize. I'm sure he'll recover soon."

"I hope so. This not knowing is so hard on everyone."

"Thank you, Quentin," Angelique said as they entered the foyer. "You have no idea how much just talking to someone about this has helped."

"Anytime," he said, his hand on her elbow as he looked up, straight into Barnabas' eyes. Seeing the jealousy there, he smiled. "Hello, Cousin."

"Quentin. I was expecting you to be here when I arrived, Angelique."

"I had a - problem to discuss with Quentin," she said, making no move to go to him."

"Don't I get a kiss from my loving wife? I've been gone all day," he reminded her.

"Of course." She came forward to give him a very chaste and brief salute.

"Are you ready to leave?"

"So soon? You just got here. Don't you want to go up and see Elizabeth? And Amy was asking for you." She gave Quentin a look of gratitude when he handed her a glass of port, missing the narrowing of her husband's eyes.

"I'll go and do that now. Excuse me, Carolyn, Quentin."

Carolyn frowned as he left. "I know it's none of my business, but, is something wrong between you and Barnabas, Angelique?"

Angelique smiled thinly. "Nothing serious. We had a - slight disagreement, that's all. They're quite the norm for us. We're both a bit short-tempered at times.

"Oh. I'm glad it's not serious." She stood. "I think I'll go spend some time with Mother, then go to bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

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Angelique finished her drink and held out the empty glass for another. "I had hoped things like this were over and done with," she sighed. "Why can't life be simple, Quentin?"

"I'm not the one to ask. My life's been anything but simple," he reminded her, lowering himself to sit beside her on the sofa. "I guess people like us don't get simple lives. We'd probably be bored by them anyway."

"I wouldn't be," she said fervently. "I was so looking forward to a nice, simple life as Barnabas' wife. Now, I'm afraid that I may have lost him again."

"Why? Once Judah is destroyed, he'll be the same -"

"Will he? I keep remembering that the only way he was stopped in 1840 was by killing Gerard Stiles. I don't want that to happen to Barnabas."

"It won't," he said, trying to reassure her. He placed an arm around her shoulders, intending to comfort her, just as Barnabas returned. Seeing the fire in his cousin's eyes, he moved away, and Angelique turned to look up at him.

"I'm ready to go now, Angelique," Barnabas said, his voice cold. The sound of it sent a chill through her soul.

She rose to her feet. "Was Elizabeth awake?"

"Yes. Julia's just given her another sedative. I wished both she and Amy goodnight for us both." He placed her coat on her shoulders. "Goodnight, Quentin."

"Good night. Remember what I said, Angelique."

"I will. Goodnight."

Barnabas was silent on the walk back to the Old House, and the silence only tightened Angelique's already tightly strung nerves to the snapping point. At the house, she poured another drink and went to the window.

"Don't you think you've had enough of that tonight?" Barnabas asked, watching her.

"No, not nearly enough."

"What were you and Quentin discussing that required going to his rooms?"

"I need to talk to him, that's all.

"About something that you can't talk to your husband about?"

"Leave me alone, Barnabas. I'm tired and I don't want to argue with you."

"Very well. But you will listen to me, Angelique. You are my wife, and as such you will stay away from Quentin. I will not have the family gossiping about us and our problems."

"What are you implying? That I'm -interested in Quentin?" She began to laugh. "You really do think that, don't you? Well, think whatever you like. Because I don't intend to stop seeing him simply because you are jealous and suspicious. Quentin is a friend, nothing more." She finished her port and set the glass on the table. "Goodnight, Barnabas. I'm going to bed." She walked quickly past him and up the stairs.

Angry, Barnabas picked up the empty glass and flung it into the fireplace, where it shattered against the back wall.

Quentin examined the dark circles under Angelique's eyes the next morning. "Looks as if you didn't get much sleep last night."

"I didn't. We had another argument."

"What about this time?"

She gave a humorless laugh. "You. He thinks we're having an affair."

"Really? But - if he's Judah, it wouldn't matter, would it?"

"Yes, it would. Judah once considered me his - possession, and Judah never liked to lose anything he considered his."

"Are we still going on with your plan?"

"Yes. How is Elizabeth this morning?"

"A little better, I think. She's in the drawing room with the kids."

"Where's Maggie?"

"How should I know?"

86
Angelique frowned, but said nothing as she turned toward the door.

A few minutes before dusk found Quentin and Angelique in the parlour of the Old House. "Do you remember what to say?" she asked.

"I remember."

"Good. He should be in with Julia for about five minutes and then he'll come up here. Open the door and get ready." When she heard the sound of footsteps on the cellar stairs, she slammed the door loudly, then said, "I can't believe that woman. How dare she talk to me like that!"

"I'm sure Elizabeth didn't mean anything, Angelique." 

"Oh, of course. Come into the parlour and have a brandy."

Quentin followed, saying, "She didn't actually say anything."

"Oh, she didn't have to. They way she said what she did was enough. Honestly, Quentin. She all but accused me of marrying Barnabas for his money. All because of that story I told about Cassandra and Nicholas."

"I'd make allowances for her if I were you. She's upset about Roger -"

"That's no excuse. Oh, I wish I could pay her back for what she said to me this evening."

"Now, Angelique. Don't start that again."

"You're right. But I will think about it."

"And I just bet you enjoy every minute of it."

Barnabas' voice cut into the air like a knife. "I didn't know you were here, Quentin."

"Good evening to you, too, Cousin. I just brought Angelique home. I'll see you later," he told Angelique.

Seeing the look on her husband's face, she was silent until the door closed behind Quentin. "I'm tired. Spending all day at Collinwood exhausted me."

"How is Elizabeth?"

"Elizabeth? She was much better. When I left, anyway. Goodnight, Barnabas."

"Goodnight."

"Julia, I want you to go to Collinwood and keep an eye on Elizabeth."

Looking up from the microscope, Julia frowned. "Why?"

"I just overheard Angelique talking to Quentin. She and Elizabeth had an argument this evening and I'm worried that she might do something."

"Surely she wouldn't, Barnabas. Not after just arguing with her."

"I'll go myself, then," he said. "Every minute we stand here is another in which Elizabeth's life may be in danger."

Julia sighed. "I'll go."

Elizabeth was sitting on the drawing room sofa trying to keep her mind on a report that Carolyn had brought from the plant. Suddenly she began to feel as if she were on fire. The papers dropped to the floor. Her voice weak, she called for help as Quentin came into the room. "Elizabeth? Is something wrong?"

"Quentin. Burning."

He placed a hand on hers. "My God. You are burning up. I'll go get Julia -"

She grasped his hand. "Don't leave -Quentin. I'm - frightened."

"I have to find Julia," he told her. Pulling an amulet from his pocket, he held it up for her to see. "Look at this, Elizabeth. I found it yesterday and bought it for you."

Her heat glazed eyes slowly focused on the medallion. "What is it?"

"A - good luck charm. Let me put it on for you." He fastened the clasp around her neck. "There. Now, how do you feel?"

She took a deep breath. "It's - strange. I don't feel hot anymore."

Julia came in, and was immediately concerned to find Quentin hovering over Elizabeth. "Elizabeth. What's wrong?"

"Nothing now, Julia. But just a moment ago, I felt as if my entire body was slowly burning up. I don't understand it."

87
"Are you sure you're all right now?"

"Yes."

Julia checked her pulse. "A little rapid. It was probably just nerves. You shouldn't have let Angelique upset you."

"Angelique? What are you talking about?"

"Someone told me that you and she had an argument earlier."

"Whoever told you that was wrong. Angelique was here most of the day, but we didn't argue about anything. She's been a great help since - Roger became ill."

Julia saw the medallion. "That's a lovely medallion, Elizabeth. I don't think I've ever seen you wear it before."

"No. Quentin just gave it to me."

"And I expect you to wear it," he said softly, with an undercurrent of iron in his tone.

"I certainly will. I need all the luck I can get right now."

"Why don't you go on up to bed, Elizabeth? I'll be up in a minute - unless you need some help?"

"No. I don't think so. I feel quite myself now. Thank you for the gift, Quentin."

"You're very welcome."

Quentin saw her to the door, then turned to pour himself a brandy as Julia came to him. "Would you please tell me what is going on around here? Barnabas told me that he heard -"

"Barnabas heard exactly what Angelique wanted him to hear, Julia. There was no argument. Angelique came up with this plan to prove that Barnabas is being possessed by Judah Zachary."

"No." Julia fought to control her panic. "Not Judah. He - he was destroyed."

"Gerard Stiles was destroyed," he pointed out. "Not Judah. Evidently, he's just been biding his time until he could try again."

Julia felt faint, and sat down heavily. "He can't succeed. We have to stop him, Quentin. I'm not sure at the moment whether he's using Angelique or Barnabas

to do his work for him, but we must stop him."
"I know. Listen, I want you to go back to Barnabas and tell him that I was able to stop Angelique by using that amulet. If he's Barnabas, he'll be grateful. If he's Judah-"
"He'll be furious at your intervention."
"Not necessarily. He may take it to mean that I suspect Angelique."
"We need to get the children away -protect them. But David will never go with Roger still in the hospital -"
"Let me handle David. And I'll also talk to Elizabeth about sending Maggie with them to Boston until this is over."
"Yes. I'll go up and give Elizabeth something to help her relax and then leave."
"I can give her a pill, Julia. Go on back to the Old House."
Upstairs, Quentin convinced Elizabeth that David couldn't help his father by staying here, and that the atmosphere wasn't a good one for children at the moment. She agreed that Maggie should take David and Amy to Boston for a week or so, then took the pill Julia had sent up for her.
Quentin was just leaving her room when Maggie came into the hall. She started to turn away, but he stopped her. "I want to apologize for the things I said, Maggie. Can we talk?"
"I'm not certain we have anything to talk about, Quentin."
He touched her arm, smiling. "Hey. At least give me a chance."
"Are you sure Angelique won't mind?"
"Angelique?"
"You seem to be spending a great deal of time with her, Quentin."
"That's part of what I have to explain. Please?"
Maggie took a deep breath, knowing that she was probably going to regret this, but turned and led the way to his rooms in the West Wing. Once there, she refused his offered drink and sat down. "I'm listening."




m

"Angelique and Barnabas are having some - problems, and she needs a friend. That's all there is to it."

"What kind of problems?"

"She's afraid that he's not - stable."

"What?"

"He's been acting pretty strange since they got married - and Angelique is worried that he might have been possessed by an evil spirit who wants to destroy the Collins family."

"You're going to have to do better than that, Quentin."

"It's true. Even Julia's noticed the change. She's concerned that he might harm someone - if he hasn't already -"

"Roger? How could he?"

"Black magic. Maggie, I know this is hard for you to believe, but I'm afraid he might try to hurt you or the kids. Elizabeth's agreed that you should take them to Boston for a few days."

"Boston? David won't go with his father ill," she said.

Quentin sat beside her. "Please, Maggie. I'll talk to him. I want you out of here. I don't want to give him any opportunity to hurt you." He touched her cheek. "You mean too much to me for me to let that happen."

"That's not what you said the other night."

"I'd had too much to drink," he explained. "I'm sorry. I'm - thinking about staying on at Collinwood, Maggie, and if I do-"

"Don't make any promises, Quentin Collins, that you don't think you can keep."

He kissed her. "Then I won't say any more now. Just promise me that if I can convince David to go, you'll leave tomorrow morning."

"I - " She was silenced by another kiss, one that turned her bones into water. "I'll go," she said.

"Good girl." He stood, pulling her to stand at his side. "Let's go talk to David."

Barnabas' relief appeared to be sincere. "You're sure Elizabeth is all right?"

"Quentin was going up to check on her when I left. I think he's suspicious of Angelique now, what with the argument earlier."

"Good. I don't like the idea of her using him as she's been doing."

"He's also going to suggest to Elizabeth that Maggie take the children away to Boston until things are settled here."

"That's a good idea." He paced over to the stairs and looked up. "Julia, we must stop Angelique."

"I'm not certain that Angelique herself is behind this, Barnabas."

He turned to look at her. "What do you mean?"

"Quentin suggested that she may simply be the instrument for someone else."

His expression was guarded. "Such as?"

"Judah Zachary."

He looked suddenly weary, and sat down. "I haven't wanted to admit it to myself. Or discuss it with you. I know how much it troubled you that you fell under his power those times. She came back here as Miranda - the name Judah knew her by. Using her would be his ultimate revenge." He looked at her. "I can't fight him right now. I'm too vulnerable. As soon as I'm cured, I'll find a way to destroy Judah Zachary. Once and for all."

The next day, Angelique said almost those same words to Julia and Quentin. "We'll have to wait until the serum takes effect. Right now, he's too dangerous to fight. If he suspects we know the truth, he could decide to destroy the entire family in one night, using Barnabas. Once he's out from under the curse, he'll be more easily handled."

"What are you going to do, Angelique?"

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"I wish I knew, Quentin," she said, sounding as weary as Barnabas had the previous night, "I wish I knew."

The next week was a nightmare for all concerned. Roger made no improvement, in fact, he appeared to be slipping nearer death, which caused the atmosphere between Barnabas and Angelique to deteriorate even further. They were scarcely speaking to one another. As a result, Angelique spent even more time with Quentin, further angering Barnabas.

Julia gave him his evening injection, and an hour later, drew a sample of blood. She was looking at it under the microscope when Barnabas turned to leave the room. "Wait. Barnabas -"

"What is it, Julia?" he asked, hearing the surprise in her voice.

"Do you feel any different, Barnabas?"

"No, not that I - Yes. I do. Julia, it worked. I'm cured."

"Yes. The blood sample is clear of the vampiritic organism.

"I must go tell -" He paused, the joy on his face erased by a brooding frown. "I cannot wait any longer, Julia. I'm going upstairs and confront Angelique."

"No, Barnabas. She might -"

"I must. I don't care what happens to me, as long as I stop her - or Judah. Go to the hospital and stay with Roger. If I'm successful, he'll be all right very soon."

"Be careful, Barnabas," she said once they were in the foyer.

"I will be, Julia." He closed the door behind her as Willie appeared. "Willie," he said, needing to tell someone his news, "Julia's serum worked. I'm cured."

Willie's smile was dim. "That's -great, Barnabas. Does Angelique know?"

"No. I'm going up to tell her now. And Willie, see that no one disturbs us."

"Sure, Barnabas."

With a heavy heart, Barnabas started up the stairs.

Angelique was sitting, listening to the music box, thinking about Barnabas, about how like Judah it would be to possess the body of the only one who had ever defeated him. She wasn't certain how much longer the present situation could continue. The tension was becoming more than she could handle. The door opened, and as Barnabas appeared in the room, she closed the music box and came to her feet. He hadn't been in this room since the night of their wedding. She heard the key turn in the lock, saw him put it in his pocket. "Barnabas?"

"I think it's time for us to have a long talk, Angelique."

"Yes," she agreed. Suddenly she was anxious to get it over and done with, no matter what the consequences.

After checking on Roger and finding no change, Julia called Quentin's private number into the West Wing. He answered on the first ring. "Julia. How is Roger?"

"No different. But that might change. I just came from the Old House, Quentin. Barnabas is cured, and he's insisted on confronting Angelique. They're probably together right now. One of them may be in danger."

He chuckled softly. "You know, Julia, I've been thinking. Maybe we should just let them fight it out. The remaining one will obviously be Judah -"

"Quentin," Julia said, shocked by the suggestion.

"Sorry. It was a bad joke. I'll go over and see if I can't stop them from killing each other again."

"I'll be out later."

"Why are you doing all of this?" Barnabas asked suddenly, his voice shattering the stillness of the room.

"Me? Why are you?"

"I've done nothing," he denied.

90
"Oh? Then why did you tell Willie to take care of Judah Zachary's headstone after your walk to Eagle Hill the night we married? And the next evening, you were so cold and distant. And you went back to Judah's grave. I saw you there."

He shook his head. "I remember walking to Eagle Hill that night, I wanted to say good-bye to my past there. I don't recall going to Judah's grave - nor giving Willie any such instructions. As for the next evening -I don't remember anything about that evening from the time Julia gave me my injection until she left with Carolyn. I assumed that you had done something to affect my memory."

"And why did you go back to his grave later?"

"I had begun to suspect that he might be using you to complete his revenge on my family," he explained. "What about you? Elizabeth's attack after your quarrel?"

"There was no quarrel, Barnabas. I was desperate to find a way to prove that Judah had possessed you, so Quentin and I invented that quarrel and made sure you would overhear us talking about it. I thought that if you were Judah, you wouldn't pass up the opportunity to make me look even more guilty. I didn't cause her attack. I thought you had."

"I remember that night clearly. After Julia left, I very nearly came up here to catch you in the act. But I was afraid to. I knew that it would be the end of us again."

Angelique threw her arms around him, felt his around her. "Oh, Barnabas. If only we had talked before now."

"We weren't meant to, my darling. But if Judah hasn't possessed one of us, then who has he possessed?" he wondered aloud.

"Julia?"

"No. She didn't have the time to cause Elizabeth's attack."

"But - Quentin did. He had all the time in the world - and he just happened to have that amulet waiting. Barnabas, it could be him. He's the main cause of our not

having talked before now. He's been playing us against each other."

"You're right. But how can we fight him?"

"Let me think. Judah probably chose Quentin because of the portrait. He can't age. Barnabas, after he's destroyed the family, Collinwood would be his, and he could stay here in Quentin's body forever, start a new coven -"

"Yes. The portrait. If I threaten to destroy it, then Quentin would also be destroyed, and Judah would be forced to give up his quest yet again."

"You wouldn't actually destroy it, would you?" she asked him.

"I hope it won't come to that."

There was a knock on the door downstairs, and a moment later they heard Willie talking to Quentin. They were both silent until Willie's tentative knock on the door. "Yes, Willie?"

"Quentin's here. He's in the parlour-"

"Thank you, Willie. I'll be right down." He waited a moment. Turning to Angelique, he said, "I want you to stay here. I'll go down -"

"No, Barnabas. You go up to the third floor and find the portrait. I'll go downstairs and keep Quentin occupied without arousing any suspicion. I can always invent another argument between us about him."

"I'll be down as soon as I can," he said, pulling her into his arms. He gave her brief kiss that promised much more. "Be very careful, my love."

"I shall be."

Quentin was gazing in a glass of brandy when she came in. "You shouldn't have come here."

"That's not much of a welcome."

"Barnabas is in a terrible temper. We just argued again -"

"What about this time?"

"My spending so much time with you."

He touched her cheek with the back of his hand - something that so reminded her of Judah, that she bit back a gasp. "I

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wonder if we shouldn't give some substance to his accusations, my dear? If he's going to hang us for the thought, why not for the deed?"

"Be serious, Quentin. I'm afraid of what Barnabas might do if he finds you here."

"At least you're worried about me. That's a good sign." His hand moved to her waist, intending to draw her closer.

Angelique met Barnabas' look as he came down the stairs. He shook his head negatively, then moved his gaze to Quentin's hand. Sensing her withdrawal and the reason for it, Quentin released Angelique and turned to greet Barnabas. "Quentin. I trust you have reason for your visit?"

"As a matter of fact, I do, Cousin. Julia called me from the hospital and told me that good news. I thought I'd come over and help celebrate."

Angelique's blue eyes flew to her husband. Of course. Why hadn't she seen it herself? He was cured. Giving silent thanks, she decided the only way to hide her happiness was in anger. "You're cured? And you didn't tell me?"

"I wasn't sure you would care one way or the other. You have so many - " he glanced pointedly at Quentin, "other interests lately."

"That's unfair, Barnabas. You know I want you to be free of the curse."

"Really? You certainly couldn't prove it by the amount of interest you've shown in the last week."

Quentin moved nearer Angelique. "Come on, Cousin. She's right. You're not being very fair."

"Stay out of this, Quentin. You've done enough, don't you think? I will remind you once more that she is my wife. I think you had better go now."

"Not without Angelique."

Glancing at Barnabas' set expression, Angelique spoke softly. "I think I should stay, Quentin."

"You're sure?"

"She said she was staying, Quentin. She knows where she belongs."

"At least walk me to the door?" he asked.

She walked cautiously around her husband with Quentin at her side. At the door, he whispered, "Meet me later. My room."

"If I can get away."

"You will, my dear. I know you."

She returned to the parlour and started to question Barnabas, only to be motioned to silence. Understanding that Quentin might be outside listening, she heard Barnabas say, "I told you to stay away from Quentin."

"I may be your wife, Barnabas, but that doesn't mean you can order me to stay away from my friends. Why didn't you tell me that the serum had taken effect?"

"Would you really have cared?" he asked coldly.

"Of course -"

"Spare me more of your lies, Angelique. I don't believe them anymore. Excuse me. I have to make sure that Willie is airing a room for me upstairs."

Angelique poured herself a glass of port, lifted it in a silent toast to the portrait of Barnabas over the mantle. And you once complimented me on my acting, she thought. She was just finishing the drink when Willie came down the stairs. "I'm going to my room for awhile, Willie."

"Okay. It's good news, isn't it, Angelique? About Barnabas, I mean."

"Yes. Yes, it is."

Barnabas was standing beneath her portrait, looking up at it. "Barnabas."

He turned and held out his arms in silent invitation. She went into them without hesitation. "I'm sorry for not telling you about the curse being finished, my darling. So much was happening -"

"I understand. The portrait?"

He moved away from her. "It's not in the room. Since there are only two keys, mine and Quentin's, it's safe to assume that he already has it hidden away somewhere."

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"Yes. I could go to him, say that I'm afraid you might use the portrait to harm him and suggest that we get it first. He'll have to admit having taken it and I might get a clue as to where he's hidden it."

Barnabas was already shaking his head. "No. I don't want you to be alone with him. Judah is far too dangerous. And I won't risk losing you again. Not now. I have a great many things to apologize for. I should never had accused you -"

She placed a hand to his mouth. "Don't. I have just as much to apologize for. Just hold me, Barnabas."

"Gladly, my darling wife. Gladly."

Later, Angelique was at the dressing table, brushing her hair into some semblance of order as Barnabas watched her from the bed. There was a light tap on the door. "Barnabas?"

"Yes, Willie?" he responded, his eyes never leaving his wife.

"Julia's downstairs. She says it's important."

"We'll be right there." He rose from the bed and bent to kiss Angelique's bare shoulder. "I love you."

"And I love you. And if you don't stop that, Julia will wonder what's happened to us."

"She's a doctor. I'm sure she could guess."

"Barnabas."

"Very well." He began to button his shirt.

Julia wasn't really surprised that Judah had possessed Quentin. "That's why I'm here, actually. Something he said on the telephone set me to thinking, and I decided to come back and make sure everything was alright."

Barnabas kissed Angelique's hand before answering. "As you can see, it is. Our problem now is to find some way to get rid of Judah and free Quentin."

Julia paced the room. "If only there was someone that Judah was afraid of. But I know that's impossible," Julia sighed.

"There was someone, Julia." Angelique said, her eyes on Barnabas. "A sea captain who practiced white magic. His ship docked in Bedford one day. When Judah heard he was in town, he was frightened. I'd never seen him like that before. Judah wouldn't tell me why he was afraid of the Captain. But I know that his powers were stronger than Judah's."

"Could we call him back?" Barnabas asked. "Have a seance?"

Angelique stood there, her inner turmoil evident. Then she made her decision. It was the only way now. "That won't be necessary, Barnabas. Wait right here. I'll just be a moment."

She went upstairs to her old room on the third floor. There, under a loose brick in the hearth, she took a cloth wrapped object from it's hiding place. "It is time, talisman. You have job to do." She left the room quick-

"What do you suppose she's up to?" Julia asked.

"After all these years, Julia," Barnabas said, sitting down, "I won't even try to guess."

Angelique entered and knelt before Barnabas' chair. "I hid this in my room the day Trask performed his exorcism to find the witch. I suddenly realized that if you found it, you might become even angrier than you later became."

"What is it?" he asked.

She held it up, allowing it to catch the firelight. "A golden watch-fob and chain."

"It's beautiful," Julia said.

"Yes," Angelique agreed, watching Barnabas' face. He was staring at the fob as if mesmerized. "And unusual. It's one of a kind."

"May I see it?" Barnabas asked. She gave it to him, still watching him. It's a - sail-

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ing ship. A three-masted merchant vessel at full canvas. Worked entirely of gold."

"Concentrate on it, Barnabas. Think only about the ship. It's a replica of an actual ship. A ship that you sailed. Do you remember the name?"

"Angelique - what - ?"

"Julia, please. Be quiet. You'll understand in a few minutes." She hadn't looked away from Barnabas. "Think, Barnabas. Concentrate. The name of that ship. What was it?"

Julia could see strain on Barnabas' face as he focused on the golden watch-fob. "The - Sea Witch," he said softly. "I - remember. She sailed between the coast of New England and the West Indies. Her home port was Martinique, and she sailed under a French flag."

Angelique looked relieved. "Keep concentrating. Remember it all."

"I - was her captain. And owner. I had come to Martinique several years earlier when my younger brother, frightened by the idea of having no inheritance or title, arranged for me to be accused of a murder he committed. My younger sister accompanied me to the New World to start over. Dear Elsbeth. I bought the Sea Witch and began a profitable business while learning about both black and white magic from the island natives. Elsbeth traveled with me, and in Bedford, she became involved with a known practitioner of the black arts. She was young, beautiful, innocent. I tried to warn her, but it was too late. She was totally under his power. She died in one of Judah Zachary's hellish ceremonies, and I swore vengeance on him. He didn't fear me then, and I decided to wait for my revenge. I waited six years before returning to Bedford. My spies told me that Judah thought himself all-powerful, above even the witch tribunal. I thought the time was right." His eyes focused tenderly on the blonde woman kneeling at his feet. "My spies also told me about the young woman who had taken Elsbeth's place in Judah's coven, and in his life. I planned to destroy her along with him

- until I met her. Oh, Miranda. You fought so desperately to stay away from me. But you could no more do so than I could stay away from you. Seeing us together distracted Judah enough for me to contact the tribunal with evidence against him - just enough so they would arrest him and put him on trial." He touched her hair. "But it wasn't enough to convict him. I underestimated Judah - not for the last time. So I asked you to testify against him. And it worked. Once he was convicted and beheaded, I took you onto the Sea Witch and then to Martinique. We went to my house on the island, and lived there for several months."

"Belle Mer," Angelique said, speaking the name aloud for the first time in many years.

"When I left again, I gave you my good-luck piece." He again looked at the fob and smiled at Julia. "I had this made by the island natives."

Angelique regained his attention with a light touch on his thigh. "What happened? Why didn't you return? There were rumors of a mutiny."

"The rumor was true. I suspected one of my new crew was one of Judah's followers. I was correct. He incited most of the others to mutiny, and I sank the Sea Witch deliberately. I knew I would not return to you at Belle Mer." There was still so much more he wanted to say, but not now. Not with Julia there.

He reached out to touch Angelique's cheek with gentle fingers. She smiled, understanding that they would talk of the rest later, after they finished with Judah. "You still haven't told Julia your name, my darling."

"Aaron Forsythe. Yes. I remember it all now." His eyes narrowed as he looked at Angelique. Without looking at Julia, he said, "Go back to the hospital, Julia. Stay with Roger. After I talk to Angelique, I will go to see Quentin."

The voice was different, Julia thought. Harder. Like steel covered in soft velvet. It could stroke softly - or strike with

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deadly force. Sudden fear for Angelique made her speak. "I'm not sure I should go."

As though he could read her thoughts, Barnabas spoke again. "Angelique will be all right, Julia."

"Go on, Julia. He won't hurt me."

"I'll be at the hospital, then."

Angelique watched Barnabas carefully before rising to her feet. She could feel his eyes on her as she poured them each something to drink. "Why didn't you ever show me this before?" he asked suddenly, fingering the fob.

She took a deep breath and turned to give him the glass. "I didn't think it necessary."

"You placed a curse on me because I could not admit my love for you, yet if you had shown me this - I would have remembered -"

"Don't you understand?" she cried out. "If I had done that, I would never had been sure if you loved me, not Miranda. She no longer existed. And neither really did Aaron. Only his memory. And it was locked up in your subconscious. I suppose I wanted to know if you could fall in love with me not knowing about the past."

"And when I couldn't admit my feelings you became angry and wanted revenge. I can't fault you for that. But revenge usually has its own price, my darling." Deliberately, he finished his drink and set the glass on the table before rising and extending his hand toward her.

Frozen to the spot, she managed to say, "What do you mean?"

He didn't answer, never said a word. His eyes compelled her to reach out and take his hand. He pulled her close to him with that hand, using the other hand to raise her face to his. As their lips met in a long, passion-filled kiss, Angelique returned his embrace. When he lifted his head, she felt dizzy, as if she might collapse if he let her go. "Why didn't you tell me you still had your powers?" he questioned softly, that steel back in his voice, yet sheathed in soft velvet.

Still dazed by his kiss and drugged by the feather-soft touch of his lips on her ear, she didn't think before she spoke. "I was afraid you'd become suspicious of me again." Her eyes flew open as she realized what she had done, and she added, "But I haven't used them since long before the accident in France."

"I believe you. I have a question - a very important one."

"What?"

"Would you be willing to give up your powers - if I also gave up mine?"

"Would you really do that?"

"I've gone so long without them, I wouldn't miss them. But after I deal with Judah. Are you going to answer the question, Angelique?"

"I'll give up my powers. For you."

His hands cupped her face. "My beautiful wife. I love you."

"When are we going after Judah?" she asked as his lips moved from her brow to her eyes.

"I will go in an hour - or two. At the moment, I have other things to do." With that, he swept her into his arms and climbed the stairs.

Quentin was alone when Angelique arrived. He saw the fear in her eyes and poured her a drink. "What's happened?"

"After you left, Barnabas flew into an absolute rage. He's forbidden me to see you."

"And yet you're here. I'm glad you defied him."

"I had to. I'm terrified he may do something to you."

"There's nothing Barnabas can do to me, my dear."

"Yes. Yes, there is. The portrait. It's at the Old House, isn't it? Barnabas could destroy it and you'd age, Quentin. And there's a full moon tonight."

He didn't even glance at the window. "Is there really?"

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"Quentin, aren't you listening to me?! We have to get the portrait away from the Old House. I don't have a key to that room, but you do -"

"Don't worry, my dear. Barnabas won't find the portrait. I've already hidden it. Where no one will find it." He lounged back on the sofa.

"You have?" she asked, feigning relief. "Where is it?"

"I think it best if you don't know that. Then Barnabas can't force you to tell him. Where is he, by the way?"

"I think he's downstairs with Elizabeth. I don't want to go back to that house with him, Quentin. He's become cruel, and -"

Quentin rose and put an arm around her, pulling her against him. "There, there. You don't have to go back if you don't want to. I'll be leaving Collinwood in a few days -you can go with me -"

The door opened violently, and Barnabas stood there, anger in every line of his body. "She's not going anywhere with you." He held out his hand. "Come here, Angel-ique."

Quentin kept his arms around her. "She doesn't want to, Barnabas."

"Let her decide. Come here." Angelique shrugged off Quentin's arms and slowly moved away.

"NO! She's chosen me this time."

Angelique put her hand in Barnabas. "Go downstairs, Angelique - or back to the Old House -"

"I'd rather stay," she said quietly.

"Very well. But don't interfere."

"I won't."

"Perhaps it's best if you do stay. Now Quentin can tell you who he really is."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Tell her."

"There's nothing you can do to make me say a thing," Quentin said, picking up his glass.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that."

Perhaps there was something in that tone that he recognized, for he gave a

decidedly nervous laugh.  "You're joking, right?"

"I'm not joking. I'm very serious. Now, are you going to tell her the truth, or do I have to force it out of you?"

"I would love to see you try, Barnabas."

"As you wish." He stared at the window until it opened, and then told Quentin, "Look outside."

Nervous now, he turned and paled when he saw the axe suspended in the darkness. "No!"

"Then tell her your name. Tell her from whom she has been seeking comfort."

When there was no response, the axe began to move closer, making a chopping motion. Frightened, he cried out. "JUDAH! Judah Zachary." He slumped into a chair as the axe vanished. "You. You're Aaron For-sythe."

"I'm pleased you still remember me, Judah. I swore revenge on you once, many years ago."

"You had your revenge. I was found guilty. Beheaded."

"So you were. But you're back now, and attempting to cause harm to those under my protection. I cannot allow that."

"What are you going to do to stop me? I have the portrait of Quentin Collins. Even if I didn't, you wouldn't destroy him."

"You think not? Quentin may be a coward, terrified of death and the werewolf curse, but he is a Collins and is loyal to his family. He has lived a long life, and I think that if he were not such a coward he would have destroyed that portrait himself before now."

The belief that Aaron might be right put Judah on the defensive as he attacked. "So, my dear Miranda. You have betrayed me again. You knew when you came here tonight that he had remembered Forsythe, didn't you?"

She lifted her chin, facing him bravely. "Yes. I knew."

"Three times. And every time because of him. Well, it's the last time you will

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ever betray me to anyone." As he moved nearer, Barnabas' voice cut across the room.

"Leave her alone, Judah." When Judah took another step, the velvet slipped further. "I know what frightens you more than anything else, Judah. It's the reason you chose Quentin: He can't age. As long as that portrait exists, his body will remain as it is now. Unless -"

"Unless what?" Judah wanted to know, his interest transferred from Miranda to Aaron.

"Unless I remove the spell from the portrait. Look at your hand, Judah."

Lifting a trembling hand upward into this line of vision, he saw that the skin had begun to wither and age. "NO! I won't let it happen!"

"It's too late, Judah. As your body ages, the portrait will become younger. And very soon, you will feel a great pain throughout your body, presaging the transformation into a werewolf," Aaron said calmly.

"Stop this, Aaron! Don't let it happen!"

The part of Barnabas that was Aaron felt much satisfaction at hearing Judah beg for mercy. "I can stop it, and I will - if you release Roger Collins from the spell you placed on him." Judah hesitated. "You haven't long."

Judah went to the roll-top desk and opened a secret panel, removing a wax effigy of Roger. "I have to take it to the fire," he said dispiritedly.

Barnabas stepped out of the way, motioning Angelique to remain silent as she began to say something. There was no reason to hear the words aloud. Judah had given in too easily.

When Judah reached the hearth, he began to recite an incantation removing the spell. As he reached its conclusion, he threw the wax figure into the fire. Before Angelique could do more than gasp, Barnabas lifted his hand and the fire was extinguished, the embers cold. Reaching into the dark coals, Barnabas retrieved the figure and

examined it. "Luckily for you, there was no damage." He carefully gave it to Angelique. "Take care of this until later when I can safely dispose of it." He turned back to the grate and raised his hand again. The flames began to flicker. "Now. Where is the portrait?"

Realizing he was beaten, Judah sat down heavily. "The cottage."

"Thank you for making that easy. Now. What shall we do with you? If I let you leave Quentin as he was, then no doubt you will simply try again."

"I won't."

"Do you really expect me to trust you, Judah? No, I'm afraid you must be banished."

"Banished," he repeated. "A fitting end."

"Barnabas," Angelique said, still unable to call him Aaron, "must you? You have no idea what that is like. I do."

He looked at her. "You have a better idea?"

"No, but - banishment to the fiery pit -"

He saw her shudder at the memory it evoked. "You were allowed to leave. Judah would not be. His punishment would be for all eternity."

"Very well. I can't fight you, and I know you have the power to do it." Judah's gaze met Angelique's. "Beautiful Miranda. I really would have taken you with me, tried again. I suppose it just wasn't meant to be." He sat back. "I'm ready."

Barnabas circled him twice, then began the incantation. "I summon the denizen of the fiery pit to escort this soul back with you and make him one of your cursed legion. Come, and claim this soul as one of your own. Come. And once there, he will remain throughout eternity as punishment for his crimes. Come, lost souls of the darkness. Follow my voice." A sudden wind blew into the room, carrying the agonized shrieks of the Lost Ones with it. Angelique covered her ears, trying to shut out the terror filled memories that they called forth. The window closed with a loud bang, and

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the room was still, the calm after the storm. Quentin sat upright, not moving, but Angelique didn't notice as she ran across the room to throw herself into her husband's arms for comfort.

"It's alright, my darling," he assured her. "He's gone forever."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. You were not eternally banished. There was hope for your release. But not for Judah."

She looked at Quentin. "Why hasn't he moved?"

"I placed him in a trance so that I could reverse my spell back to the portrait."

She looked at Barnabas. "You could end his curse, couldn't you?"

"Yes. And I will - later." He touched Quentin's wrinkled, aging hand, returning it to its former youthful appearance. His face was next, and then Barnabas touched his fingers to Quentin's forehead. "Quentin."

He opened his eyes. "Barnabas. Angelique. What are you doing here?"

"You don't remember, Quentin?"

"The last thing I remember is coming up here after your wedding, having a brandy - Maggie was here." He glanced quickly around the room.

"Maggie's fine," Barnabas assured him. "What happened?"

"I guess I fell asleep. I had one hell of a nightmare, too. All about Judah Zachary and Roger -" His voice stilled as he saw the looks on their faces. "It - wasn't a nightmare, was it?"

"No. It wasn't. Angelique, you'd better call Julia and find out about Roger. Tell her to meet us over at the Old House after sunrise for the full story."

Quentin looked a little shame-faced. "I'm not sure how you can keep from punching me out, Cousin, after everything I've done."

"It wasn't you, Quentin. It was Judah Zachary."

"Yes." As if remembering something, he looked down at his hands. "You - ?"

"Of course. I don't think it would be easy to explain your suddenly aging thirty years to the family."

"No. It wouldn't be. Thank you." He could sense the change in his cousin, but knew that his mind wasn't clear enough to ask the questions he wanted to ask and be able to understand the answers.

Angelique returned from the telephone, taking Barnabas' arm. "Roger's completely recovered, and Julia will be calling the main part of the house in a few minutes to let them know. She's going to release him as soon as possible."

"Then shall we go so we can be there to help celebrate the good news? Quentin?"

"Right behind you, Cousin."

Elizabeth was ecstatic when Julia called. "I'll have to call Maggie and have her bring the children home. We have to celebrate this evening. You and Angelique will be here, won't you, Barnabas?"

He looked down at his wife. "We wouldn't miss it, Elizabeth. Now, if you will excuse us, Angelique and I have an appointment to keep.

EPILOGUE

Barnabas clasped Angelique's hand tightly as the first rays of the sun became visible on the horizon. They were both silent until that golden orb bathed them in its warm glow.

Watching him, Angelique smiled. "Happy?"

"I'm happier than I ever thought possible. Because you're here to share it with me."

"It's a new day, Barnabas."

"A new beginning," he said. "For all of us."

THE END
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