Subj: Smoldering Flame Chapter 8
Date: 11/12/98 9:22:44 PM Central Standard Time
From: Irishcoda

Roxanne had already left to pack her things.

Julia turned to Cassandra and said, "I think that under the circumstances, I'll go with Roxanne as far as the airport in Paris. I'm afraid Jon and Donna might be frightened being left alone, so I'll go to the abbey and pick up the children. What will you tell Roger about that?"

Thinking swiftly, Cassandra said, "If you are able to get out of here before Roger arrives, then I'll just tell him that you've all gone on a little holiday so that we might be alone." She smiled, a little craftily, Julia thought. Julia nodded and went off to put together a small overnight bag. When she knocked at Roxanne's door, there was no answer. She opened the door and looked. Roxanne was gone; the closet door stood open and all her things were gone. Julia was puzzled. "Julia!" Cassandra was calling to her. She turned and saw Roger's wife approaching with a perplexed expression on her face.

Roxanne is gone! Mrs. Phillips just saw her getting into a cab."

"How very odd," Julia said. "She left without saying a word? I don't understand."

"Nor do I," Cassandra agreed. "You must leave yourself if I am to convince Roger that you've all gone on a holiday." She put her hand on Julia's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry, Julia. Nicholas is one to savor and labor long over his efforts. I need a little time to think of a plan. Nicholas is a formidable enemy and, as you know, I'm no longer in favor with Diabolos. It's got to be a plan that won't rouse Roger's suspicions."

"There may come a time where we'll need to take him into our confidence," Julia commented. "Just as we have Elizabeth."

"Yes, but that time is not tonight. I will talk to you soon, Julia."

Julia nodded and carrying her overnight bag with her, went downstairs to ask Mrs. Phillips to call her another cab. Why hadn't Roxanne waited? "What madness is going on now?" she wondered.

"Are you sure the children will be quite all right?" Elizabeth wondered as Nicholas took her by the arm.

"Absolutely, my dear Elizabeth," Nicholas assured her, his even white teeth seeming to sparkle as he gave her his most charming smile. "The lady I engaged to care for him while we're here is an old friend and has impeccable credentials!"

Elizabeth smiled back, thoroughly charmed. It didn't occur to her to wonder why she should trust this man so implicitly when she barely knew him. It didn't occur to her to wonder why she'd allowed him to bring her and young Jamie from France to Collinsport. They'd picked up David and had then gone on to Alexandria. She felt herself flush like a young girl under the intensity of Nicholas' gaze. He looked upon her as if she were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. The desire in his eyes was both flattering and unsettling. "My dear, I absolutely had to be alone with you for just a little while," he was saying. "Let's enjoy this meal together before we are joined by your cousins this evening."

"My cousins?" she repeated.

"Yes, Barnabas and Quentin will be joining us this evening," Nicholas replied easily, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Barnabas. Something about Barnabas…Elizabeth thought hard, trying to remember. Everything seemed so fuzzy. They'd stopped walking and Nicholas turned to her, taking her into his arms. "For now, let me be the only thing on your mind," he said in a low, husky voice. He kissed her, and she felt as if she had been sipping a fine, aged wine -- several glasses. She felt a little dizzy now.

In the hotel room, young David Collins regarded his mother with confusion and fear. She held his young half brother in her arms, rocking Jamie gently and speaking soothingly to him. Laura looked up at David and smiled reassuringly at him. "You don't have to be afraid of me, David darling," she said. "I don't understand any of this," David whined, keeping his distance. He felt totally vulnerable. No one but Mrs. Johnson had been home when this strange Nicholas Blair and his Aunt Elizabeth had suddenly appeared at Collinwood, packed him up and brought him along on an airplane to this hot, dry, strange place. Oh, Mrs. Johnson had tried to protest but had been quickly put in her place by Aunt Elizabeth herself. "I saw you die, Mother. You burned in that shack."

Laura laughed liltingly. "But, darling, you can see for yourself that I am living and breathing, can't you?"

He nodded reluctantly, yet he still felt frightened of her. He remembered her intensity when she'd returned several years ago. She'd wanted him to go into the fire with her, but he still didn't understand why. Even though she frightened him, a part of him had always loved and missed her. Now he asked, "How did you live through it?"

"I was able to get up and go out the back door," she replied, shifting Jamie in her lap.

"Why did you run away then?"

"Your father and I weren't getting along, David-you know that. I also know he paid Victoria Winters well to turn you against me. I thought it would be better for me to go away for awhile."

"Vicki loved me!"

"Did she?" Laura asked, surprised, raising her eyebrows. "And, yet, she didn't hesitate to leave you, did she?" Hurt, David was unable to think of an answer to that. Laura saw that his feelings were hurt and she held out one hand to him. "Darling, I have never forgotten about you. Why would your Aunt Elizabeth bring you all the way here if not to see me?"

"But Father-"

Laura sighed. "I am sorry that your father didn't approve, but your Aunt Elizabeth thought it was important that we see each other, too. Please, David…"

Haltingly, he took a few tentative steps forward and reached out for her hand. She felt real. Her hand was a living hand, and she certainly looked and talked like his mother. He suddenly rushed forward, going onto her knees so that he could rest his head in her lap. He began to cry. "I missed you so much!"

"I know, my darling, I know," Laura soothed, stroking his hair with one hand while she held Jamie deftly with the other. "I missed you, too, but everything will be all right now."

In the heat of the late afternoon, Quentin threw himself across his bed, brooding. The air conditioning was turned up all the way to ensure that Barnabas rested in comfort in the next room, but he still felt very hot and uncomfortable. Barnabas' adjoining room was totally sealed to prevent any sunlight from entering; a coffin would have raised too much fuss in the hotel. Quentin loosened his collar, thinking, trying to come up with a way to extricate himself from this mess. He wasn't at all sure it was possible to save Barnabas anymore.

Inexplicably, he began to feel very sleepy. Maybe it was just as well that he get some rest. Soon it would be dusk and he had no idea what Barnabas would be up to once he rose again. Some dark ceremony, probably… as he drifted off to sleep, he thought he felt the bed sag as if someone were sitting down with him. He felt light hands on his shoulders, rubbing the tight muscles in his back and neck. Julia, he thought. It feels so good. I'm so tense, I don't know what to do. He felt himself relaxing under the ministrations of the hands.

The hands stopped massaging him for a moment; as he was about to protest, he felt lips lightly brush the back of his neck. The light, feathery kisses moved to the side of his throat; the hands had begun massaging his shoulders again. He began to feel himself swell as he became aroused, rolling onto his side to take Julia into his arms and kiss her. He suddenly became aware that he was dreaming; it was almost as if he had an out-of-body experience. The room seemed too dark for late afternoon-he couldn't see Julia clearly at all. Was it really her? It had to be-she was lightly brushing the side of his cheek and stroking his hair now. He felt the lips moving on his throat toward his mouth, the hands were on his chest now, thumbs on his nipples, rousing him further. Quentin, he heard in his mind. It was not Julia's voice. It was his cousin's. He bolted upright on the bed, his eyes wide and staring, gasping for breath. He was alone, but the room was dark. He felt a sudden chill and shivered with terror and shame. Barnabas stepped out of the dark corner of his room, a warm smile on his face. His eyes, though, were cold and mocking. "What is the matter, Quentin? Did you have a bad dream?" Barnabas walked toward the bed and sat down on it. He reached out and put his hand on Quentin's leg.

Quentin jumped as if he'd been burned and scuttled backward, pressing himself up against the headboard. "Don't touch me!"

"What in heaven's name is the matter with you?" Barnabas asked, sounding mildly irritable. Yet, Quentin had a feeling that he knew exactly what the matter was. He realized his shirt had been opened. Stunned and embarrassed, he began fumbling with the buttons. Barnabas chuckled. "You will do exactly what I want-you know that, don't you? I have no desire to hurt you, but I can make you listen to me."

"I know," Quentin muttered, feeling helpless. "You caused the dream, didn't you?"

"What dream?" Barnabas asked. Quentin looked at him dully. His cousin reminded him of a pet cat he'd had as a child, playing with a mouse. The cat had thrown the mouse up in the air several times until the rodent's spine was broken. When the mouse was unable to run away, the cat had batted it about the room. "Get up," Barnabas said, harshly now. "We have much to do tonight. Laura is here with my son. I can sense it, yet she doesn't have all her power yet."

"Where are we going?" Quentin asked, when he could find his voice.

"We are meeting Nicholas Blair. Perhaps I won't need your assistance in bringing Laura back to me after all. You may entertain Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth is here?"

"Yes." Barnabas turned and looked at Quentin again. He put his hand on Quentin's cheek and gently caressed it. "Dreams can be pleasant, isn't that so? They can also be horrible and frightening. But you know that, don't you? Get up. It's time to go. I am anxious to see Laura and I will be displeased with anyone or anything that delays my reunion with her."

Even with Barnabas' warning ringing in his ears, Quentin attempted to draw Elizabeth into conversation while his cousin and Nicholas conferred together like the two conspirators they were. Elizabeth, though, seemed to be in a drunken stupor. Quentin was dismayed, realizing she must be under some sort of spell-a love spell, he guessed, because of the mooncalf way she was staring at Nicholas. Julia, Julia, he thought, despairing.

Julia felt him call her. Now she was truly alarmed as she picked up the phone and called the Collins' home in London. Mrs. Phillips answered and apologetically told Julia that Mr. and Mrs. Collins were on their way out. "Please!" Julia interrupted urgently. "Please tell Mrs. Collins I must speak to her!"

After an interminable length of time, Cassandra spoke into the phone. She sounded a little irritated. "Yes, Julia?"

"Cassandra, I think you need to know this-listen, please. I've just called Collinwood and talked to Mrs. Johnson. Nicholas and Elizabeth arrived with Jamie, but then they took David away with them."

"What?" Although she sounded shocked, her voice was pitched low, as if she didn't want Roger to hear.

"They've gone to Alexandria-that's what Elizabeth told Mrs. Johnson."

"My God!" Cassandra said, her voice still soft. "And they took David, too?"

"It seems that it was fairly easy to accomplish that-no one was at home to protect him," Julia answered. She was very worried and torn. She'd felt Quentin calling to her and knew he was in trouble. "I want to go to Alexandria, Cassandra. I don't want to bring the children with me-it's not safe. I hate to leave them here. They're so little, and yet they're safer with the nuns."

"I agree. All right, Julia. Have you had any word from Roxanne?"

"None."

Cassandra bit her lip, thinking. "I am sure she went to Alexandria, too, Julia. I have to think of a reason for Roger and I to go there."

"Why not tell him the truth? Elizabeth knows."

"I'm not ready for that yet."

"All right. I have no idea yet where I'll be-I have no idea where they are…"

"Follow your heart, Julia. You'll find him. And I will be able to find you, don't worry." After Julia hung up, Cassandra stood for what seemed to be a long time, thinking.

Roger came to the doorway. "Cassandra? What is it, darling? Is something wrong?"

Cassandra took a deep breath and turned to face her husband.

Next…