Chapter Ten
"Here! I've prepared Catherine's plate. And what would you like to eat, Vincent? Hey, Vincent!"
Drawn out of his introspection, Vincent realized he was standing in front of the buffet and smiled apologetically to the tunnel cook. "Sorry, William. I was... distracted."
The older man chuckled. "After such a dance, it's only understandable that you'd have your mind on other subjects than food! It was truly wonderful to watch!" he added with dreamy eyes. "But now Catherine needs to eat something. Here's for her..." he quickly filled another plate "and here's for you!"
Vincent thanked him and started back across the chamber, eager to be with Catherine again. He restrained a sigh when a diminutive old lady, dressed with a strict, somewhat old-fashioned elegance, stepped right in front of him, forcing him to stop.
"Can I have a word with you, Vincent?"
"Now, Miss Richmond?" he asked, looking down at the two plates he was carrying.
"Yes, now, it won't be long!"
Vincent knew better than to contradict Miss Richmond and he obediently followed her to a quiet corner, wondering what this was about. Earlier in the evening he had introduced Catherine to the old Helper and exchanged a few words with the now retired librarian, who for many years had kept the tunnels supplied with discarded books. For the people Below, no book was ever too old-fashioned or tattered, and Miss Richmond had taught everyone interested how to restore and bind the damaged volumes, to ensure them a long life. Vincent had been one of her students, not the most apt one because of his claws but certainly one of the most willing, and the old lady was a patient, if stern, teacher. In showing the youngsters how to take care of the material stuff books were made of she had also transmitted to them love and respect for the treasures of knowledge and beauty they contained. While Vincent was grateful to all Helpers who provided basic necessities to his world he kept a special place in his heart for Miss Richmond and smiled down at her, ready to listen attentively to what she wanted to say.
"First, Vincent, I want to tell you how glad I am that you have finally found someone. Your Catherine is a very nice person! But I must scold you, too, young man! How come I wasn't invited to the wedding?"
Vincent, taken aback, opened his mouth to answer, but the old lady didn't leave him time to. "Hmmpf! I thought as much! You haven't married her yet! Vincent, I hate to say this, but I'm very disappointed with you!"
"But, Miss Richmond..." was all he managed to utter. He felt as if he was twelve again, presenting one of his repeatedly misshapen attempts at binding to her stern eyes.
"Oh, I know!" she went on "Nowadays decency is not what it used to be. Many couples don't marry until their second or third child, if at all. But I did expect you to have better principles than that!"
Vincent nodded, at a loss. With age Miss Richmond had become a little hard of hearing, to say it kindly, and right now he didn't feel up to the task of explaining the whole story. As if she would let him, anyway... the lecture was not over!
"If you want my opinion, Vincent, I think it's high time for you to take your responsibilities and make an honest woman out of Catherine! You wouldn't want to give all the youngsters down here a bad example, would you?" She smiled at his utterly discouraged expression. "All right, I'll let you go, now, but promise me you'll think about it!"
This was a promise he could make. "I will, Miss Richmond!"
She patted his arm. "Good! Now go and bring dinner to your nice young lady. In her condition it's important to eat regularly!"
As he walked back across the chamber, Vincent first smiled to himself at the thought of the old Helper's mistake. Embarrassing, but understandable... then the full magnitude of it struck him. Not only could a conservative, somewhat straight-laced old maid like Miss Richmond imagine him responsible for having fathered Catherine's child, she didn't even raise an eyebrow at the thought! The only thing that seemed to trouble her was that the child might be born out of wedlock!
Wedlock! Vincent shook his head, stunned. Hardly had he begun to come to terms with some until then unimaginable possibilities that another one arose to taunt him one step further! One step so huge that the mere idea of it made his head spin.
Later! Taking a deep breath, he walked back to Catherine, who welcomed him with a radiant smile. "Vincent, I've been missing you!"
"And I, you, Catherine!" It was true. Even a few minutes without the warmth of her presence seemed too much. Tonight he didn't want to leave her for a single second.
"What did Miss Richmond want? She didn't look happy! Have you been trying to bind books again?" Vincent suddenly realized Pascal was there, too, with Rebecca, and smiled to the pipemaster.
"I gave that up years ago! You two always were much better at it than I was!"
Rebecca giggled. "You weren't so bad! She just found it hard to accept that you did things your own way and wouldn't use the tools to cut through the cardboard!"
Vincent chuckled, looking down at his claws. "I found those to be more efficient for the task, but they were something of a handicap, too! Besides, glue and fur don't go well together at all!"
Catherine listened fondly as they went on evoking childhood memories, but she'd noticed Vincent had avoided answering Pascal's question, and wondered what the old Helper had spoken to him about, in what had seemed to her a quite stern manner. Somehow she was sure it had to do with their relationship, and Vincent had looked upset!
Even now he seemed thoughtful, letting his friends fuel the conversation as he ate mechanically. What could Miss Richmond have told him?
Vincent was trying to pay attention to the discussion, but found himself unable to keep the old librarian's stunning suggestion from nagging at him. She had said that he should... marry Catherine! Join with her the tunnel way, as Kanin and Olivia had done. He remembered the Great Hall on that day, as brightly lit as it was tonight, he standing near Kanin as his best man, and Olivia, beautiful in her cream-colored tunnel dress, slowly walking toward the man she loved. The memory gave place to a wistful fantasy, it was no more Olivia, but Catherine wearing the wedding gown, and she was coming toward him, a radiant smile on her face... No! This could never be!
Never? So many things that he thought could never be had already happened... and no one but himself seemed surprised that a beautiful woman would seek his company, come to Winterfest at his arm, and dance with him alone. It seemed that no one but himself was shocked at the idea that one such as he could have... that kind of relationship. Not the tunnel people, not the Helpers, not even Father! Hadn't he said their dance was the highlight of the evening? It certainly was for Vincent. At least so far... He felt thrilled at the thought, and awed at his own audacity. Their dance had been a moment of perfection, Catherine all his, miraculously his as they moved as one. How could he still yearn for more? Yet deep inside he knew that he needed more, and more he would have before the night was over... And then, who knew what the future might hold?
His self-imposed limits were fading, melting into nothingness, and he had to admit that right now he had surprisingly few qualms about that. Even Catherine's pregnancy seemed no more an issue. Catherine was not one to play with his feelings, and Vincent felt sure she never would have let things go so far between them if she had still been... involved with someone else. Whoever her child's unknown biological father was, he seemed to be no more part of her life.
Though many other certainties may have crumbled, Vincent still firmly believed that he could, should never sire a child, but there were different ways to be a father, and Catherine's child would need one...Could that somehow be the reason for the mysterious connection he felt with the baby? If he Joined with Catherine he could claim the child as his! They could be... a family!
"Ouch!" Catherine's protest startled him out of his waking dream. She was rubbing her lower stomach, an outraged look on her face. "You little beast!" she scolded the wildly undulating bulge at her midsection.
"Catherine!" Vincent looked so shocked that she instantly amended, regretting her choice of words.
She gave her abdomen a few apologetic pats. "Ok, it's all right, darling, but if you just could avoid kicking so hard at that place in the future..."
"Were you hurt?" Vincent instantly worried.
She smiled to reassure him. "No, not really. Surprised, rather. Little One had been very quiet ever since we danced, and he suddenly decided to wake up.
"He's certainly very awake!" Rebecca giggled, looking at Catherine's lively stomach. "It looks as if there's a football match going on inside!"
"And that's exactly the way it feels, too!" Catherine answered.
Suddenly Vincent's great, warm hand was there, firmly cupping the restless mass.
"I'd say basket-ball. He's definitely jumping." he said quietly.
Pascal and Rebecca exchanged a surprised glance, and when they looked at Vincent again he was watching them with a hint of a smile, his hand resting on Catherine in a tranquil, almost proprietary way.
Catherine was so entranced she could hardly breathe. Vincent had been very quiet for a while, deeply immersed in his thoughts, and it had worried her some. She knew the man and his tendency to think too much, and she'd been wondering if he was regretting the closeness he'd allowed to develop between them. One step forward, two steps backwards, that was Vincent! She'd even begun to prepare herself for the inevitable... Yet instead of putting distance between them he was touching her in that intimate way in front of his friends, his gesture self-assured and almost casual, as if it was the most natural, rightful thing for him to do! But Catherine knew that for Vincent to take such a huge step in public meant he had come to a decision. She sought his eyes and found them filled with pride and certainty...
A shrill little voice startled them both."Is the baby moving? Can I touch?"
"And me too!" The Greene twins were standing near Catherine's chair, reaching out with eager hands.
"Becky, Vinnie!" their mother scolded as she caught up with them, Sam in tow.
"No, it's all right!" Catherine said. "You can touch if you're gentle."
Vincent moved his hand to the side to give them space, but everyone noticed he didn't withdraw it. The kids squealed with happy excitement on sensing the baby's movements beneath their palms.
"He's dancing! Will our baby dance like that, too, Mommy?" little Becky inquired.
"Yes, darling, in a few weeks, when he's big enough!" their mother replied. "But he'll probably never dance as much as you both did! It felt like I was hosting Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, plus the whole Ziegfeld Follies chorus line!" she told the others.
Vinnie was staring down at Vincent's hand resting beside his own. "Will the baby look like Vincent?" he suddenly asked.
There was a moment of uneasy silence, then Catherine finally spoke in a quiet voice, carefully picking her words. "If that was the case, it would be a beautiful baby." She heard a sharp intake of breath and looked into Vincent's stunned eyes. "Yes, beautiful!" she softly insisted.
Another heavy silence followed, which was broken by Karen. "No one can tell what a baby will look like until it's born, darling!" she told her son.
"Then maybe our baby will look like Vincent?" Becky hopefully wondered.
"It can't, you silly!" her brother scolded.
"Beautiful or not, I'm not sure I'd appreciate that!" Sam broke in. "Don't take it personally, Vincent!" he added with a good-natured grin that lightened the atmosphere.
Catherine was relieved to hear Vincent's chuckle. "I won't." he replied.
"Oh, no! The baby's stopped moving, why?" Becky asked.
"He's gone to sleep." Catherine answered. "Vincent's hand always has that effect on him." she added, laying her own hand on his, her own claim in answer to his.
By general agreement the conversation drifted to safer subjects, and a date was decided for Vincent and Catherine's visit to their friends, a week later. Father would probably be reluctant to let them go Above, and a longer delay would only give him better reasons to refuse, using Catherine's pregnancy as an argument.
Vinnie suddenly darted out without warning, instantly imitated by his sister, and their parents, with a weary sigh, followed them to the other side of the chamber, where Sebastian had started performing his tricks amidst a circle of wide-eyed children. Rebecca accompanied them and Pascal soon excused himself. "I must go and check the pipes." He looked at Catherine, a twinkle in his eyes "Just to make sure everything is.... still there!"
She grinned. "You're right. One never knows! By the way, has anybody heard from Narcissa? Won't she be coming?"
Vincent raised an eyebrow. There seemed to be some kind of private joke between Catherine and Pascal about the pipes but what puzzled him was that Catherine could know Narcissa! The old woman mingled very little with the tunnel population, mostly keeping to her own deep, dark realm.
"Though she sometimes visits at other moments, Narcissa rarely comes to Winterfest." he answered. "Too much light and too many people make her uneasy. She claims darkness and solitude are necessary to the practise of her art. But she is one of us, and works at protecting this community, in her own way."