Subj: Fiery Forbidden Love 2: A Smoldering Flame
Date: 10/31/98 9:49:23 PM Central Standard Time
From: beverlylacroix

Barnabas was a haunted man. He had the look of death. Quentin knew that Barnabas had not fed for two or three weeks. Barnabas had been that way for over a year. He refused all offers of effecting any type cure from Julia, and Cassandra had all but washed her hands of Barnabas and his unholy pining for Laura, for she knew that was what was wrong. He would wonder the cliffs of Widows Hill between the hours of dusk and dawn clutching the piece of paper with the words of the poem he had written as a boy to Laura Stockbridge Collins. He had taken on an
apparitional appearance wondering and searching the night for his lost love.

Quentin had hoped that the marriage to Roxanne would have been enough, but he knew from his own experience with Laura that it would take more than the love of a mortal woman to rid one of the vestiges of that firebrand from one's veins. It was addictive. Even thinking about making love to Laura for a minute could snare him, and so he understood what Barnabas was going through. Barnabas was a vampire, he shouldn't be reacting so strongly though, Quentin thought to himself, a frown covering his handsome features. He had been a young man when Laura had seduced him into her bed. She had thought it fun to make love to her husband's brother when Edward was in the house. She loved the danger. It fueled her lust, bringing her to climax after climax. But unlike his cousin, by the time she had been forced into the heat of the pyre in Egypt, Quentin had learned to hate her, just like his brother Edward had. And apparently there was no love loss between her and Roger. Why couldn't Barnabas get over her?

Barnabas had sent Roxanne and his son to England to stay when it became evident that Barnabas was doing more harm with his coldness to Roxanne, and James than they were doing him good. Through agents, he had rented a large estate for them, and the connections of Grant Douglas and help of Cassandra, it was the Original Barnabas Collins Estate. Elizabeth, Julia, Cassandra, and the children had accompanied her, and were staying until Roxanne settled in.

Quentin missed his wife and children. He missed his Cousin Elizabeth more than he thought he would. Somehow her presence had become very important to him. Roger was no fun at all. David had been spending time with his father at the cannery. Quentin loved the new house he and Julia had built. It was located between Collinwood and The Old House, set back off the main walk between the two old houses. They had named it The Abbey, because it had the appearance of an abbey, and David had started calling it The Abbey, and the name had stuck.

"Quentin, what are you doing here?" His cousin asked him in a low resonant tone, that shook Quentin out of his thought.

"Well, Barnabas, I was looking for you. Roger wanted to know if you were free to attend a play in Bangor tomorrow evening," Quentin answered him.

"I don't think so, Quentin. I'll talk to him in awhile." Barnabas said.

"Barnabas, you really should go. Roger will be disappointed," Quentin said.

"Quentin, I want you to arrange passage to Alexandria Egypt for me," Barnabas said.quietly in a voice that brooked no argument.

Quentin was shocked into total silence.

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