To Hope Anew

Chapter 15

"Father? Are you here? Vincent called out into the largechamber.

"Where on earth have you been, Vincent?" came the sound of adistinguished voice with a more than slightly irritated tone to it.Vincent and Jacob followed the sound from the book-filled study toFather's private quarters. The elder man was just pulling on his longwool and suede dress coat, about the color of his greying sandy hair.Strong grey eyes read his son's beloved, unique face easily.

"You'll never be ready in time! Diana will be at the Great Hallbefore you're even dressed!"

About ready to attempt to ease his parent's anxiety with a shortreassurance, Vincent was instead interrupted by his young son. "Dianais just now getting ready, too, Grandfather."

The elder man stooped down slightly on his walking stick towardshis grandson. "Is that so, Jacob? How do you know?" he asked in a bitof a conspiritorial whisper. Vincent knew he had no chance ofdefending himself now without revealing all the details of themorning, once the two comrades -- grandfather and grandson -- begantheir speculations.

"We just left her. I went to show Diana my new boots. Aren't theyfine, Grandfather?" One little foot was raised off the stone floorand balanced unsteadily before the elder man for his approval.

"They are fine indeed, Jacob."

"Father needed to talk to Diana even if he wasn't to see her thismorning." The innocent little voice carried the accusation straightto the heart of the conversation. Vincent began earnestly thinkingthat perhaps it was time to become a bit more selective about lettingthe child in on any more adult matters.

"Was there anything wrong, Vincent?" came the inevitableinquiry.

"We simply needed to reassure each other, Father. That is all."Turning to the beloved urchin who would revel in playing spy for hisgrandfather, Vincent took the little boy by the hand and maneuveredhim into a large worn armchair before a pile of books on a low tablenext to the wall.

"Why don't you find a story or two you can bring to the Great Hallfor later, Jacob?"

"Yes, Father," came the compliant reply.

In another moment, the powerful man found himself standing in thescrutinizing gaze of his own father. "You know, you have an unfairadvantage over me now. Jacob loves to keep you informed of all thedetails of our lives." There was a definite emphasis on the"all."

"Don't fault an old man for his concern, Vincent."

A soft smile eased over the son's features and he easily reachedhis strong arm around the older man with a warm embrace. "I can neverfault you for your love, Father."

"Well, then, we'd better get on with it. Your things are hangingin the wardrobe there. Oh, and before I forget and we are allsearching madly for it later, here is the ring."

Vincent turned from reaching into the huge oak cabinet that storedFather's few articles of special importance, pulling out severalgarments carefully hung and setting them onto the bed. Then heaccepted the small velvet-covered box from the elder man's hand.

"Peter found it?" he asked hopefully, as he opened the jeweler'sbox . Inside, the gleam of gold shone brightly from a wedding bandhe'd prayed he'd be able to provide his bride with this day, a ringas special as their shared souls. The slender band was indeed finelyworked, just as he'd envisioned it: The Irish Claddagh -- two handsholding one crowned heart, the ancient Celtic symbol of love andwelcome.

"Yes, Peter did find it exactly as you requested. And he alsoreturned these to you." Father motioned over to a cardboard box onthe bedside chair filled with a dozen venerable, leather-bound books.They had been some of Vincent's personal volumes.

"My books... But, those were for payment for the ring. I don'tunderstand."

"Peter said he wanted you and Diana to accept the ring as hiswedding gift. As for the books, he also said that you needed to passthem along to Jacob, not ransom them."

Vincent held the box with the small gold band for a long moment,acknowledging what it all meant at such a moment. Dr. Peter Alcotthad been Father's trusted colleague and friend since medical schoolAbove, a Helper from the very beginning times of the community. Hehad also been, through some miraculous twist of Fate, Catherine'spersonal physician and family friend.

Two years had passed before Peter and Catherine had ever come torealize that they both sheltered the treasured secret of theUnderworld within their hearts. Once it became know between them,Peter had become Catherine's confidant as well, the one person in theworld Above whom she could trust with her involvement with theUtopian society he had helped to flourish for so many years. Knowingthat the young woman he had literally brought into the world hadlinked her heart with the mythic, beyond human soul that he had alsohelped nurture from his very first days had given Peter no end ofsatisfaction and joy. His grief at Catherine's loss, and Vincent'spain in that loss, was nearly as great as Father's own.

Now, the physician had made a gift of a wedding band, to anotheryoung woman brave enough to dream of promise in the arms of the manshe loved. The generosity that Peter had shown towards Diana, andindeed, towards himself, was a treasure Vincent understood andcherished.

"I'll never be able to thank Peter enough for his kindness."

Father came over to his son's side and patted him on the shoulder."He believes in the dream, Vincent, in the possibility of today. Weall do. For you both."

The feelings echoed in those words were the ones he'd only a fewminutes before offered to Diana in her lapse of certainty. Even Peterand Father had reason to see promise and possibility in the day forthem. Vincent prayed silently that heaven would allow him to keephold of that conviction.

"May I help you get ready, too, Father?" came a small voicenearby. "I've found my stories."

Vincent lifted the little boy up onto a chair, easily. "Of courseyou may, Jacob. You must be certain that I will be presentable."

"And not unruly." The sound of two male voices sharing warmlaughter soon filled the room, but Father was left out of the mirthwithout a clue. Vincent caught his parent's confusion andexplained.

"We had a bit of a time getting Jacob dressed properly thismorning." "Now it is your turn, Father." The little boy carefullyreached over to the neat pile of garments on the bed.

Patiently accepting his child's help, and his father'sencouragement, Vincent exchanged his everyday layers of heavy workclothing for his very best garments, packed away only for specialoccasions. He actually could not remember the last time he'd wornthese particular articles and knew that Mary had undoubtedly goneover them meticulously to be certain of their state.

Patched jeans gave way to a pair of well-fitting wool trousers ina heathered grey. A soft, cream-hued linen shirt, tied at the neckand banded at the cuffs, replaced the sweater and flannel shirt. Overit, Vincent eased on a long, brushed suede doublet of charcoal colorthat tied across the front with three leather laces. Finally, sittingon the bed, Vincent pulled on a pair of fine dress boots, made ofheavy black leather. They came to his knees in buffed elegance.

Father suddenly found himself growing misty-eyed as he watched hisson buckle on a intricate metal and leather belt over his vest. Aremembered glimpse at a deep-eyed eight year old hiding shyly behinda fall of golden hair came into the older man's heart. Vincent raisedhis head in time to catch the tear forming in the physician'seye.

"I've helped many a young man prepare for his wedding day inthirty-eight years. I never thought that one of them would be you,Vincent."

As the distinguished leader of the Underworld sat on the bed nextto his grown son, he felt a pair of little arms wrap themselvesaround his neck from behind. Jacob had clambered onto the bed as wellto join them. "Why are you crying, Grandfather? Aren't you happytoday?"

"I'm very happy, Jacob, for your father, and for you. I'm justremembering the little boy that your father once was, and seeing thesplendid man he's become."

"You can both help me get ready for my wedding day when I'mgrown."

There were gentle, hopeful smiles exchanged between the two men atthat. Then Vincent felt a lump come up into his throat. He swallowedhard, taking the elder man's healing hand into his own.

"Father, I can't thank you, ever, for all you've done for me,given me. The times you've stood by my side, the counsel andencouragement. The love. I only pray I can be as good a father tothis little one here as you have always been to me."

Jacob Wells took hold of the other-worldly hand sheltering his ownwith the devotion he'd always shown its owner for so long. "Vincent,I wish I could have indeed been as good a father to you as you arenow proving to be to your child."

Another male voice sounded a bit self-consciously at the entrywayto Father's room. It was Pascal. "Excuse me, Father, Vincent. IsJacob ready to come?" Vincent rose to meet him.

"Yes, we are all ready. Please join us, Pascal."

The slight pipe master, usually so reserved, felt a wealth ofwarmth overcome him at the sight of the three men before him: thefar-sighted leader of their community, that community's long-testedprotector, and the young embodiment of their world's very future.There was actually a quiet sensation of pervading... joy... truejoy... emanating from the three of them that Pascal felt blessed towitness. To think, it had taken a quick-tempered, hell-defying slipof a woman to work such a miracle. Pascal came over to take Jacob'ssmall hand in his, easily.

Vincent knelt down to his child for a moment, reminding him of hisresponsibilities for the day. "Grandfather and I will be coming tothe Great Hall shortly. Remember you will have an important part intoday's ceremony, too."

"I know", came the eager and proud reply.

Turning his attention to the man with whom he'd shared a trustedfriendship since they were both toddlers, Vincent offered withsincerity," I am grateful to you, Pascal, for standing with me,today."

The response from his companion was immediate. "I wouldn't havemissed this celebration for the world!"

Bending back down to his son again, Vincent kissed the little boysoftly on the cheek. "Now you mind Pascal."

"Yes, Father, I will."

The small velvet box was pressed into the communications master'shand. "Here is the ring." The slight, shy man smiled widely at hischildhood friend.

"I'll keep track of it, and Jacob. Don't worry." Then as he turnedto leave the room with the child, Pascal stopped a moment, givingvoice to his own feelings with uncharacteristic forwardness."Vincent, I can't tell you how happy I am for you. Diana is a trulyspecial person. I wish you all the happiness you both deserve."

A strong clasp around the shoulders told Pascal everything thatwas in Vincent's heart, too. Like everyone else in the community, thededicated pipe master had done everything he could to support andencourage Vincent from the earliest moments of his darkest days."Thank you, my friend," was all that was needed to express thatrealization.

When Pascal and Jacob quit their company, Vincent came back toseat himself beside his father, a most welcome place for him eversince he could remember. Even as an adult, with a star-crossedexistence his destiny, Vincent had always relied on his father'stotal trust in him, sought out his counsel. They had had theirmoments of turmoil between them as well, a common enough situationbetween fathers and sons through the ages, but those times had onlyserved to deepen the respect and admiration each man felt for theother.

Now, at this point in time, Jacob Wells found it to be once againa father's place to offer his son the guidance of experience, thoughhe highly doubted the powerful, graceful figure beside him was inneed of paternal counsel. Still, there was something that was yetobviously -- reaching -- to him from his son with hesitant appeal.Father recognized the need Vincent had to talk with him.

"Is there something of concern to you, Vincent?" came the gentleinquiry. "I can't believe you need to hear my standard soliloquy onthe profound commitment of marriage that I normally subject our younggrooms to."

A soft smile played across the exotic features of his son, butFather noticed the warmth did not seem to make it all the way to thesoul-revealing blue eyes. He felt his spirit stumble momentarily. "Orperhaps you do."

Vincent seemed unexpectedly intent on the pattern of the braidedrug beneath their feet, just then, taking a long moment beforeraising his eyes back to his father. For one instant, a flash ofuncertain -- pain -- revealed itself in the depths of those eyes.Father watched as Vincent fought visibly to subdue it, disguise it.Then he surrendered his struggle and instead quietly gave voice toit.

"Not about the commitments, Father, but about what thosecommitments might entail, the sacrifices. The...disappointments."

Vincent came to his feet and began pacing slowly across the room.The controlled power of his figure suddenly seemed very much incontrast to the hesitant words spoken.

"Why did you really need to see Diana this morning?" Father tracedthe unexpected chill he felt to the unease in his son's manner.

"I felt she was in turmoil."

"About marrying you?" The older man could not keep the increduloustone out of his voice at that thought. He knew how deeply,desperately in love the young woman they were speaking about was withhis son, how long she had struggled to help him through his pain. Shecouldn't be doubting herself now?

"No, Father, not about marrying me, exactly." Vincent stoppedbefore his father's wardrobe and let his hand work its way over theworn pattern of the wood beneath it. He'd both cursed and blessed thereality of that unearthly hand this morning.

Pascal's words to him rang in his heart: The happiness he andDiana deserved. He'd been so certain, holding her in his arms thatmorning, that he could offer her what she truly deserved, thetotality of the love she truly believed possible between them,without putting her at risk of more than merely spiritual andemotional harm. Even now he could touch to the tender wonder shecarried within her own heart... and the fact that she clung to hisreassurance with a force of will that lit the fires of promise intheir entwined souls with a reckless abandon he'd believed insanityonly a short while ago.

"Diana was in turmoil about a promise we'd made to one anotherregarding our marriage."

"Tell me." Those two words always served to invite his son intosafely revealing his heart. And Jacob Wells knew without a doubt thathis son's heart was far from at peace at the moment, despite hisreassurances. What in God's name was actually going on between thesetwo souls on the verge of publicly committing themselves to oneanother? He had to find out and set it to right before even today'spromising joy could evaporate into chilling uncertainty.

Father relied on one thing he knew could see him through thepresent situation with some sense of possibility: He'd always beenable to get Vincent to talk through anything with him. Over thecourse of their cherished relationship, father and son had been ableto share just about anything between them -- hopes, fears, dreamsshattered, anguishes suffered, and triumphs finally won. They'dalways been able to find in their communion a sheltering andnurturing support that could touch to even the most profound pain.Father prayed that gifting reality would prove true once again, thathe could understand, help his son understand, what it was that couldcloud a heart at the very moment of its most long soughtfulfillment.

Vincent came back over to his father's side on the bed at thequiet invitation to share his anxiety. A part of him kept tellinghimself that there was nothing to fear, nothing to dread, that partof his spirit that had drawn itself totally beyond his uncertaintiesto rest without guilt beside Diana's own conviction of spirit. Butyears of denial were not that easily set aside, even in the face ofsuch bewitching enticements as love freely accepted between two soulslinked for eternity.

When words took a long time to find their way from his son'sthoughts, Father rested a reassuring arm around the strong shouldersthat seemed now to stoop slightly.

"Diana's love is a powerful force that has managed to sustain mein spite of my anguish these past three years. With it she hasliterally pulled me from the black despair of loss."

"She is a formidable young woman," Father agreed easily, prayingthat his concern for the moment was totally unfounded. His son seemedcapable of at least voicing what seemed to stagger his hope in thepossibilities of the day.

"Despite her strength of spirit, though, her heart is veryvulnerable, fragile even, at times, because she feels things withsuch intensity. Her heart cherishes hopes and tendernesses that canhelp sustain her through that vulnerability. She believes totally,without wavering, in the power of love."

"I thought that was something you espoused as well, my son."

Turning a countenance awash with both hope and fear to the elderman, Vincent continued. "Father, that is a belief any man is willingto espouse, especially when it can be shared with a heart asprofoundly trusting and hopeful as Diana's."

Something of the tone those words were spoken in caught atFather's own heart. He did not mistake the emphasis on the word,"man." The physician suddenly understood his son's pain, anddespaired that it should ever manifest itself with such infernalconsequence within a heart so undeserving of anguish.

Vincent held to the rightness of his fears as he read the concernin his father's face. He had spoken to Diana of hope and possibility,let his heart revel for an instant in the freedom and humanity ofloving without question or doubt. Were they fools to consider therisk past them?

"Diana's total commitment to our love means her total belief inthe possibilities of that love for us. She looks at me through theeyes of that love." Unconsciously, Vincent raised his hand beforehim, taking in the sight of it, weighing it against what his heartwould have him believe, what Diana's heart would believe. He hung hishead down with his hand, as the words came out with a quiet shamehe'd almost felt long left him. "I'm afraid of what reality, beyondthat love, will truly show her of me."

"I see." Father's words nearly caught in his throat. He'd expectedsuch a confession. "And the promise made between you?" He couldalmost guess. It was the "truth" that he'd ingrained within amystically beautiful soul that left it questioning its very worth forthe past twenty-some odd years.

"To live our married life within certain -- limits -- that we willnot test until we are sure we can walk beyond them withoutperil."

Father closed his eyes momentarily to allow the meaning of thewords to settle into his heart. After all, what else did he expecthis son to tell him? Not even Vincent's love for Catherine had hadthe power to reveal the lie for what it was. Not even the birth ofhis son had done away with the terror. Indeed, the uncertaincircumstances of that angelic little soul's conception hadaccomplished just the opposite, fueling doubt and fear instead ofletting it all finally be set to rest.

Limits. Dear God! He'd even succeeded in having his son describethe death sentence he'd hung around a noble and worthy heart yearsago in quietly benign terms. Well, today would see the end to thattravesty. Jacob Wells swore it with every breath of a father's guiltyheart.

"You would build a cherished existence together in love, of sharedcommitments, as partners in a marriage, as soulmates, as parents toyour child, but you would not accept the free expression of that lovebetween the two of you?"

A pleading for understanding filled Vincent's eyes just then, ashe heard his father's description of the reality he and Diana hadbeen willing to consider accepting in their new life together. Evento him, the decision now sounded byzantine and inhumane, a solutionof medieval proportions that totally discounted the gifting needs ofthe human heart.

Yet, there were reasons, terrifying ones, that had had to beconsidered, reasons Father had himself forced him to accept andacknowledge over the years. How could he be questioning him so now?Vincent found himself in the seemingly incomprehensible position ofhaving to defend his terrors to the very man that had continuallypointed out their need in his life.

"Father, Diana has given me so much with her heart; the ability tobelieve in life once more, the capacity to dream of a life ofpromise. But she has also touched a part of me that I had no idea Icould... accept... with such... welcome... a part of me that I havealways believed I had no... right... to share with someone Iloved."

"Your human response to that love."

Every bit of his soul was completely bared inVincent's face at themoment, the turmoil he'd believed he'd been able to settle within hisheart, the ache for guidance, for assurance that the specter of painwould not again touch someone he loved on his account.

"She awakens within me, tender, powerfully needful -- emotions --that have become too precious to me, feelings I dare not believe Ican share with her without placing her in real danger. More and moreI find myself longing to offer those emotions to her, share them withher as readily as she can offer them to me. She calls them out fromwithin me with her slightest touch."

Those last words were spoken with such quiet contrition thatFather came to his feet, needing very much to distance himself fromhis son's distress momentarily to regain his own composure, cursinghimself for the damaged he'd done. He walked slowly across the roomto the shelf overflowing with books, evidence of his scholarship.What possible good could come of scholarship when he could not evenrecognize the profound depths of the human heart?

Turning, finally, he took in the troubled figure of his son. Itseemed an eternity since the warmth that had surrounded him as he'ddressed for his wedding day, a young man like so many others of thecommunity ready to commit himself to the wonders of love and shareddreams. Father seemed suddenly to find himself transported to asimilar scene in this very room which had transpired years agobetween them. He never dreamed that what he believed had been adecision made in love then could have caused such rancor anddevastation till now within the cherished soul of his child. This hadto end.

"Vincent, you are sitting here before me, guiltily confessing yourphysical attraction to the young woman who will become your bride inhalf an hour. It is no sin to find joy and pleasure in having abeloved woman share in your heart. It is no shame to feel the tide ofemotions flood over you at her touch, because that flood is your lovefor her, and hers for you. The needs she is willing to let youfulfill are only her own expressions of the love and trust she hasfor you."

"But those needs cannot be met between us without my endangeringher very life. They are needs to be cherished between a man andwoman, not, not -- myself -- and Diana. How can you possibly overlookthat reality? You've seen yourself what can be the result."

The stumbling path that Vincent's words took as he fought toexpress them cut Father to his soul. He came over to his belovedchild again and pulled him close in an embrace.

"Vincent, if I have one regret in my life that I will take to mygrave it is the part I had to play in causing you to doubt yourhumanity."

When his son quickly sought to deny any such actuality, Fathercontinued, undeterred. "When you needed to be reassured of it so longago, when you were a young adolescent just beginning to walk theconvoluted path towards manhood, I made a decision that I can see nowtore your very soul in two. It was done out of love, out of the hopeof protecting you, but I see its consequences are even nowthreatening what should have been a blessed day of renewal for you, aday of hope and joy for a young woman who deserves your love, all ofyour love, in its every expression and wonder."

"You had no part in... "

A silencing hand on his brought Vincent up short. It seemed thatFather was at the moment the one in need of unburdening hisheart.

"Let me finish, please, because if I don't I will cause both youand Diana even more pain. When I sent Lisa away when you were a boy,it was because I was seeking to protect you from what I believedwould become for you certain anguish."

"Father, I am the one who caused the anguish then," came theburdened reply, calling up pain and shame within him that Vincent hadfelt had been deeply buried in his heart. "I am the one who turned amoment of sweet acknowledging love into an ordeal of terror!"

"No!" The vehemence with which that one word was spoken causedVincent to look up at his father with astonishment.

"You were a young boy, trusting and open in your affections, andinnocent of any of the manipulations Lisa was capable ofconstructing. You looked at her yourself through the eyes of love,and saw only a beautiful young girl who was unbelievably capable ofaccepting your love without reservations or fear.

"What you didn't see were Lisa's recklessness, and her totalinsensitivity to the depths of your feelings for her. She reveled inknowing the power she had over you. It would be so for any woman torealize she could hold a man's heart within her hands and do with itwhat she willed. But for Lisa it wasn't a gentle reinforcement of herself-confidence. It was a heartless game that would only end up incosting you your heart."

With aching remembrance Vincent felt thrust into the chaos andfear of those moments so long ago. Father's words could not have beentrue. What he recalled of the incident was only the shame and regretof having caused pain, the reality of his existence that could turn achildhood friendship into fear and loathing because he had dared toreach for more. That was the truth, not Father's.

About to protest as much to his parent, Vincent found anotherinsistent memory fighting its way into his consciousness. This timehe recalled Lisa's reappearance into his life when Catherine wasstill alive, years after the pain that had driven her away from herUnderworld home. He had attempted, time and again, to share with herthe regret he felt at having forced her away from the sanctuary ofthe tunnel world, his shame and guilt at having caused her physicalharm in a frightening moment when he'd lost control of his emergingstrength and power.

Lisa had only impatiently turned away his soul-baring confessionswith the off-hand explanation that cut his heart in two: What they'dshared had merely been "child's play" that he'd held to with painfulreverence for too long.

That "child's play" she could dismiss with a wave of her eleganthand had very nearly cost him his soul.

Still, even if Father was right in his judgment of Lisa'smotivations, even if his own heart had told him that the depth offeeling he'd been willing to offer Lisa had been nowhere near to thereality of her own for him; nothing could change the agonizing truththat was his everlasting, tormenting memory of the moment for him:That of Lisa's blood on his hands.

Whether he'd been manipulated into it or stumbled into it out ofadolescent inexperience, that reality would ever be there -- Hishesitant, first attempt at expressing physical passion in his lovefor a treasured young woman had ended in her pain. The untestedlimits of his own strength, the forceful capabilities of his powerfulbody, and the control-shattering recesses of his dually-instinctivenature made for a terrifying peril he could neither will away norforget.

Lisa had physically suffered through it, even if the wounds hadonly been superficial cuts no worse than some they had both enduredin the rambunctuous exhuberance of childhood. Yet, the scars left ona young woman's shoulder were only a breath of the searing lacerationthe incident drew across Vincent's guilty conscience and heart. Witha super-human effort that nearly had cost him his sanity, he had cometo subdue the reality deep within his soul.

Still, the nightmarish agonies the memory could conjure up hadtouched even his love for Catherine. Because of it, he knew he couldnever trust himself, he could never be free to lose himself in thefull intensity of his emotions, whether they were the welcomed andcherished radiances of love or the protective and defensive rages ofinstinctive survival. To give himself over to that intensitycompletely would mean giving over the control of his very soul todark and deadly forces he could never fully understand at work withinhim. There could be no other conclusion.

Diana, however, would not believe in her own peril.

Catherine had learned to live with it, the certainty of darknessbetween them. She had nobly relinquished her own dreams in the faceof it. He had held his humanity hostage to it. But with Catherine,the sacrifice had almost been unnecessary. The radiance of theirrelationship had transcended all the rules of the physical world.They could share their emotions within the the mystical sanctity oftheir bonded hearts, drawing peace and fulfillment in ways that couldnot be described except as "blessed."

Vincent had barely dreamed of the physically gifting nature oflove when there was so much of the cherished gifts of the spiritualwithin their reach. He and Catherine together had been a wondrousembodiment of spiritual love that existed on a plane all to itself,needing no other expression of its awesome miracle.

Diana was, though, very much a force of nature within his lifefrom the first moments they'd shared -- an indescribable fusion ofintellect, emotion and heart that drew from him very different needsrooted in the physical world, the natural world, a world of feelingsand sensations shared, of desires and treasured hopes in a presentexistence that meant only the most human and welcomingly familiarexpressions of love between two like hearts.

It was purely, love between man and woman, as much as it was lovebetween trusted soulmates. They'd endured every nightmare the fateshad thrust up before them, including their own denials of eachother's hearts. Only the tangible reality of having been there foreach other through it all had sustained them. Only the tangiblereality of awakening in one another's arms would suffice as the truthof the love between them.

Vincent's unexpected response to that force of natural love whichdrew him to Diana inexorably had left him stunned -- and enticed --by an aspect of his soul he had never dared touch to without fear.Passion had always only been rooted in defensive rage, in the need toprotect at all costs. Yet, with a single touch of a slender hand,with the breathless sweetness of warm lips pressed against his own,Vincent had been awestruck to realize that passion could alsoencompass tenderness and love.

" I don't know how to answer the imponderables in this situationwith Diana and myself. All I know is that I was fearful of losing herwhen we made that promise to one another six months ago. As I wasthis morning when I knew she was asking herself the same questions Iwas.

"I love her. I never believed I could ever let anyone else into myheart after Catherine. I had no heart left to offer anyone. Yet,Diana came into my life and brought me back my heart as though shehad been its guardian since my first breath on earth. She...completes... me as though we were ever one. I will need her strengthand tenderness till my last breath in life.

"This morning when I sought her out I was ready to condemn us bothas fools for even thinking we could share a life, any kind of a life,within any type of limits, or without, simply because I found myselfdoubting my own humanity and her ability to accept me within thoseboundaries I have always known as my limitations. But the realitiesof our love held me fast from that condemnation.

"I could see the ache, the longing in her eyes for the chance atfreedom in our love, the freedom that speaks our love. I could seehow my own doubts reduced her hopes, diminished her dreamsruthlessly, without consideration. Yet, she was still so willing totrust in me, in our love, in what it could be.

"And I am still so willing to let her."

Blue eyes that shone with deep emotion, finally only partly fearand uncertainty, held the elder physician with pleading. "The thoughtof endangering Diana for a mere instant of physical passion betweenus is unthinkable. Yet, would it be only for that? Father, I findmyself denying my very humanity, still, by denying her thetenderness, the emotion, the freedom she needs. In denying her that,what am I condeming her to? What am I condemning us to?"

"You are condemning yourselves to a vision of your nature that isnothing but a lie, fabricated only by fear and misplacedinterference. A fear I will be eternally guilty of fostering withinyou, Vincent. You thanked me for all I've done for you a little whileago, for all I've given you. Well, my son, what I have given you, intruth, is a terror of your very self, a terror that would urge you tothrow away your one hope for happiness in life in the face of alie."

The older man turned wearily to gaze on his reflection in thecloudy mirror beside his wardrobe. He couldn't seem to hold thatreflection for more than a moment or two. Instead he sank heavilyonto a straight-backed chair that rested beside the dresser and ran ahand through his greying hair with impatience.

Vincent came over to kneel before his father, taking in thedistinguished and cherished features for a long moment beforespeaking. "What you did you did out of love."

"The greatest crimes are commited in the name of love. Rememberthat, Vincent. You reminded me of it once."

"Subjecting Diana to danger for a few selfish moments of intimacywould be a crime I could not bear the guilt of."

"Vincent, the two of you love each other. Reducing that love to aphantom terror would be the greater crime you could commit againstDiana. And against yourself."

"Then, what are we to do, Father? Dismiss all reason to mereemotion?"

"No, my son. Trust in Diana and your love. Let it guide you bothto whatever is the right resolution for you. You felt that you neededher as part of your life to make it complete. You opened your veryself to her and she cherishes that gift, taking your heart as herown. At some point in time you believed enough in the promise of yourlove to ask her to share your life. Touch back to that moment andfind your way from there, together. Without the fear."

"I want so desperately to do that. Diana believes I am able to dothat."

"Then you must trust in her belief. You've said yourself she seemsto know you better than you do, that she is capable of finding herway into your very essence and touch to the truth and hope you haveburied there. Let her love guide you. It hasn't failed you yet, hasit?"

With a faint hint of promise, Vincent shook his head. "No, ithasn't. In spite of myself, she has managed to dare me to live a lifeof possibility once more." An unexpected smile finally made its wayacross unique features at the thought of the woman he loved. "Iswear, at times, that she is an irresistible force of nature thatworks the world around to her own rhythms and patterns against everyobstacle that is placed in her way."

"Must be the obstinant red-head in her."

Vincent threw his powerful arms around his beloved parent at theincongruous observation. It was exactly what was needed to place theearth-shattering discussion they had just survived into perspective.Here the two men had been debating the very essence of Vincent'snature, and they had managed to come to the same conclusion fromdifferent directions: Diana held the key.

Her fragile, ethereal grace disguised a spirit of fire, water, andpure steel. She was far from terrorized at the thought of living afree and totally shared existence as his wife. She could touch to atender and longing expression of love that lay deep within his heart,waiting to welcome her.

She could believe the unbelievable -- that beyond the childhoodenchantments that colored his existence, there beat a very real, andvery human heart, capable of loving a woman in human terms, and ofbeing loved as a man.

Coming to his feet, Vincent helped Father steady himself on hiswalking stick. There was only one thing that he could do in the faceof such bewitching certainty. "We'd better get to the Great Hall,Father. God help us, but we've a wedding to celebrate this day."

The leader of the Underworld patted the powerful arm that gave himstrength. He blinked away the misting tears still threatening to fallfrom his eys and took in the arresting figure of his son's presence.Within that powerful, supremely controlled grace and intellect therewas still very much a shy young boy hiding quietly behind a fall ofgolden hair, wanting only to be loved and accepted, to give love andtrust.

Father found himself thinking out what should have been the onlyblessed resolution to his son's pain: He needed, at 15, to havefallen in love with Diana as a young daughter of the Underworld.There would have been no anguishing self-doubt, no terror of a lessthan human soul. Diana would have been as openly accepting ofVincent's love then as she was now, and as fearlessly protective ofit. They would have grown together in love and shared a happy life.And Jacob would now be the young man grappling with emergingmaturity.

The thought of the alternate reality played a smile over Father'sface that Vincent caught sight of. "What on earth could you beimagining that is so amusing?"

"I've only just now realized what your life will be like withDiana sharing in it day by day: An irresistible force meeting animmovable object."

"I don't suppose I need to ask which I've been destined to be,"came the inevitable response.

"Which do you think?" was the question that was more than a bitamused, in light of the painful discussion they'd only nowcompleted.

Vincent shook his head, not wishing for a moment to let his fatherget the upper hand. He'd lost too many such philosophical argumentswith Diana lately. "And what of the results of that meeting?" heproposed to his parent.

"Think back to your physics lessons, Vincent. Perhaps they willhelp you deal with your situation."

Uncertain if he was willing to make light of his concerns, Vincentnevertheless was finally able to follow his father's train ofthought. The elder physician still argued like a Jesuit, his bemusedson conceeded. "Even a drop of water can carve a hole into a rock ifit keeps dripping long enough."

"I'd say that drop has been working about three years now,wouldn't you?" With a thoroughly self-satisfied aire about him thatspoke of a renewed sense of hope, Father left the support of hisson's arm to walk the tunnel under his own power, slowly, butsteadily.

Vincent shoke his head in disbelief. But even he had to admit itnow: When he'd told Diana this morning that the day would be aboutthe possibilities in their life and not the limits, he truly hadbelieved it from the very depths of his soul.

It might take every breath of his courage to keep that beliefalive, in the wake of life's possibly painful realities, but Fathersemed to believe he was capable of just such an epic endeavor. Dianaonly doubted it for an instant.

A misty vision of the amber-haired angel, standing in thecandlelight of the bathing chamber, tenderly real, and awaiting hisacknowledging touch, permeated his very soul. This time he did notfight its agonizingly sweet journey through his suddenly so receptiveheart. He let it drift over him with welcome, feeling Diana catch herbreath, gratefully, at the reality of his touch within her heart.