To Hope Anew

Chapter Sixteen

"There, it's finished, Diana." Rebecca straightened out the endsof the satin ribbon that she'd just completed tying onto the thickauburn braid. She handed the soon-to-be bride the small mirror fromoff the bed table.

Diana caught sight of her own reflection, and very nearly did notrecognize herself.

What was it about the morning that was leading even her ownreflection into a dreamy, warm realm of hopeful possibility? It hadto be more than the simple fact that her burnished hair had beenintricately braided into a coronet around her head, the plaits easilycatching the candlelight and glowing, leaving her to feeluncharacteristically attractive and self-confident.

She'd always only tolerated her red hair as a curse in the past,something that forced her to stand out in a crowd when her sensitivenature would have rather melted into the air. Still, she'd nevergiven in to the whims of modern fashion and changed its color,believing instead that the fiery tresses should remain her link toher beloved grandmother's land of fairy legend. This morning thoselocks seemed made of braided gold, a gift to her and not a curse.

It was also more than the fact that her face had a gentle radianceabout it as well, as though it reflected a softly-embered fire fromwithin. Her eyes, too, were bright and deep, pools of emerald lightwith a hint of expectation shimmering in each one. Diana had neverconsidered herself a beautiful woman -- those eyes were too large,her complexion too pale, her hair too bright. But, at the moment,there was a powerful essence of -- majesty --

about her that even she could see in her self-criticalobservations.

And it had so much more to do with the reality of her inner statethan with any outword characteristics of nature.

"Rebecca, thank you. My hair looks beautiful! I would never havebelieved it."

The self-conscious young attendant blushed easily. "It isn't muchof a wedding gift, but I'm glad you like it."

"Now, don't mess your hair, dear. Careful," came the gentleadmonishment from Mary to Samantha, who was being helped into hermaid of honor's gown by Brooke and Jamie. As the young girl settledthe garment carefully around her, there were general expressions ofdelight from all the women in the room.

"Samantha, you look simply beautiful!" Olivia was the first."Where on earth did you ever find the fabric, Mary? It is justlovely!"

"Such a perfect shade of blue, too," returned Brooke. "It lookslike an early summer evening's sky."

"Lin brought down several bolts of cloth for us to choose from,"Mary explained. "We were so lucky to get them. Some importer had goneout of business and Lin had bought dozens of bolts of his fabrics fornext to nothing, silks even. She is sewing costumes for traditionalChinese dolls she is selling in Henry's restaurant. The fabrics wereall just wonderful for the patterns we'd chosen. We couldn't decidefor days, they were all so beautiful."

Diana got up from her chair and came over to give Samantha a warmembrace. "You look like a princess, Samantha."

The young girl fairly glowed at the compliments. She trulydeserved the praise, too, because the adventurous young scholar hadbeen transformed into an arrestingly attractive young woman of nearlyfourteen in her own right.

Rebecca had braided her long, dark hair as she had done Diana's,in careful and intricate plaits. Her sweetly maturing face blushedwith natural color. And a dress unlike any she'd ever worn drapedgracefully over her young figure.

In an indescribable shade of China blue with tiny sprigs of whiteflowers strewn over it, the gown had a rounded neckline and long,tight sleeves. The bodice fit carefully to a sweeping skirt.

"There is not going to be a boy over the age of ten and under theage of twenty-one left standing in the Great Hall when you come in,Samantha," Brooke teased with an assured smile.

"I've never dreamed of wearing something like this ever in mylife! Thank you, Mary. And thank you, Diana, for asking me to standwith you today."

"Now it is the bride's turn," Olivia instructed. "I'll go get theflowers for both of you."

All eyes turned to Diana. Ordinarily reticent about callingattention to herself for any reason, the bride blessed heaven for thehelp she was getting this day. She wanted her appearance to speak herheart, for once, and knew that each of the women in the room with herunderstood perfectly what she hoped. The dreamy ease of the momentneeded to

translate itself into the very fabric of romantic possibility.

There was no doubt that radiant likelihood would become realitywhen Mary retrieved a clothes hanger from out of her wardrobe thatwas carefully covered with part of a sheet. Hanging it on the outsideof the cabinet, she pulled the covering back, and a collective sighof approval filled the room.

In the close quarters of the Underworld community, Mary and Dianahad actually managed to keep the particulars of a wedding gown aspecial secret until that very moment, no mean feat of itself. Now,their care with the details of the creation came at last to worthylight.

"Oh, Diana. It is just . . . stunning," Rebecca acknowledged. Allthe women agreed. The gown was beguilingly simple, yet elegantly fromanother age of honor and enchantment. It could only have come intobeing in a world of gentle candlelit hopes and whispered promises.And no one except the burnished-haired young woman in their midstcould ever have worn such a gown for such an anticipated miracle oflove.

Cut from the same pattern as Samantha's dress in the always frugalways of the Underworld, Diana's gown had, however, been tailored fora slender and graceful woman's body. Where the girl's dress was oflightweight silk, giving it an airy silhouette, the bride's gown wasof a heavy, draping brocade in the palest shade of cream, enrichedeven more by the interwoven pattern of scrolling vines and leaves onthe fabric just a hint of a shade lighter in color.

The neckline scooped a bit more deeply than Samantha's gown, bothfront and back, but still remained at a comparatively modest line.The bodice fit closely down to a dropped waist, and the long, tightsleeves tapered to a point over the backs of the hands. The skirt wasa trailing sweep of soft gathers that ended in a train.

With silent acquiescence, all the younger women in the room agreedthat Mary alone should be the one to help Diana at the moment. Thebride stepped out of her robe and into the gown Mary carefully heldfor her, pulling it easily up over her slim form.

The neckline and her braided hair bared an inviting expanse ofporcelain skin that Diana had decided to keep unadorned as usual --no necklace, no earrings. The heavy fabric draping over her curvesseemed suddenly to be made only of cloud mist. It moved easily withher at the same time that it clung to and outlined an undeniablybeautiful woman's figure, radiant in innocent, yet bewitchinganticipation. Fair Rosamund herself had stepped from a Victoriancanvas and claimed her bridal right.

Where everyone had been so eager to offer their comments toSamantha's appearance, the women accompanying Diana were all stunnedinto appreciative silence. Mary's eyes misted.

"Here are the flowers," came Olivia's bright voice back throughthe chamber doorway. Then, when she caught sight of the bride, she,too, fell to amazed silence, but only for a moment. "Oh my lord,Diana!" she exclaimed.

Without a word, Mary took the small hatbox from Olivia's hands andlifted the lid. Within the box were the fresh flowers that she andOlivia had worked on last night -- airy halos for the hair and smallbouquets to carry. The blossoms had been Laura's gift.

With quiet care, Mary lifted a white halo out of the box. It hadbeen woven of small white roses and sprigs of baby's breath, all on adelicate circlet of rosemary and the tiniest ivy leaves. The olderwoman came over to the bride and gently set the wreath onto herauburn hair just above the braiding. Then she returned to thesheet-covered hanger and retrieved a luxurious length of gossamerveiling.

Olivia's aid was needed with this ethereal detail, and she helpedMary drape the whisper of fabric over Diana's flower-crowned locks,to hang in front of her and behind, until she was presented formallyat the wedding ceremony. The veiling, traditionally intent uponconcealing a bride from all eyes save her husband's, did nothing ofthe sort at the moment. It only served to accentuate the vision thatDiana had become.

"You look like an angel," was all that Mary could manage to saywhen she had finished her cherished duties. Diana smiled at her fromthe bottom of her heart, feeling every bit as capable of soaring asthe heavenly being she had been compared to.

The rest of the ladies in the room finally found their voices,too. "You will simply take Vincent's breath away," Brooke observed,her words the very thought that was immediately on everyone else'smind, too.

Diana felt the gentle blush rising over her cheeks at the mentionof her beloved's name. "Do you really think so?" came the inquiryalmost before she could think better of it. But it was suddenly soimportant for her to know at that instant: Would she truly be able tosweep her husband-to-be into the realm of breathless dreams this day?Would he welcome that torrent of feelings Diana now acknowledged wasrising within her with cherished anticipation?

"Diana, he doesn't have a chance against you." Jamie's conclusionat last brought a total round of sisterly communion into a bright andwarmly joyous plane. The mythic protector they all loved had finallymet his match, this day, they knew, with happy certainty.

With the feelings in the room elevated into a general state oftotal good humor, the final details of the morning were completed.Olivia set a wondrous halo of forget-me-nots and rosebuds ontoSamantha's beautiful dark hair. It was the perfect touch to the younggirl's transformation as well -- she looked every bit an embodimentof springtime's youthful promise.

A small bouquet of fragrant lily of the valley and white roses,tied together in a profusion of blue and white ribbons, was handed toDiana. Samantha had a similar, smaller nosegay to carry, made of tinywhite rosebuds and forget-me-nots. When both bride and maid werecompletely dressed, a happy round of embracing ensued. Then Maryremembered one last important detail.

"Diana, you have something old, something new, and something blue,but you still need something borrowed." The ladies went over thetraditional necessary charms of the day as they had been offered tothe bride: A tatted bit of linen handkerchief of her grandmother'shad been sewn into the abundant folds of her wedding gown, which,itself, was the "new" part of the custom. The ribbons of the bouquettook care of the "blue." Mary returned from her dresser drawer withthe still-remaining necessary element: A silver hair comb that shelet Diana borrow.

Carefully, she lifted aside the misty veiling from the bride'shair to tuck the small comb into the plaits of hair on one side. "Myfather gave my mother this when they were first married. It wouldmake me very happy to know I can share it with you today, Diana."

The bride gave the elder woman she considered very much her ownfoster mother a truly heartfelt embrace. "Thank you, Mary."

"We'd better get to our places. The guests have already begunarriving," Olivia reminded. Everyone began to file out of Mary'schamber with happy conversation echoing down the tunnels before them.Samantha gracefully bent to retrieve the train of Diana's gown, butMary gently urged her on with the rest of the women. The young girlsmiled in understanding and followed the other women to the GreatHall.

Diana was more than grateful that the matriarch of the tunnelcommunity had remained behind with her for a moment. She wanted sovery much to thank the gentle woman again, for all her so generous,nurturing support.

"Mary, I never believed I'd be standing here in a wedding gown."Diana lifted back her veil a moment to be certain she could touch toall the gentle, warm reassurance radiating from her cherishedmentor's face.

"Love is a powerful force, dear. It can move mountains. It canheal souls."

"Thank you for always reminding me of that." The two women sharedan embrace. Then, thinking back on the uncertain start to themorning's preparations, Mary let her maternal instincts override herpolite courtesy.

"You are all right, now, Diana, truly?" A nod of the head set hermind at ease.

"A little nervous, I guess, though." The gentle hazel eyes urgedher to continue. "And a little scared."

"Feelings I'm certain Vincent is experiencing at the moment aswell."

"Oh, Mary, I want desperately to make him happy!" The uncertaintone of voice was not totally unexpected. Mary raised a gentle handto Diana's cheek.

"My dearest child. You have stood beside him through years of painand helped him find his way through it. You love his little boy asyour own. You have joined him in his world and made it your home. Youhave accepted his love. What else could there possibly be left foryou to offer him for his happiness?"

The quiet rebuke helped pull Diana to the truth she believed inher heart. She had to try to hold to it through the day. "I guessthere is always a small part of me that -- wonders."

"Whether when he sees you, holds you, he is not dreaming ofsomeone else?"

Diana's gaze came up quickly from the small bunch of flowers inher hands. She was about to protest, but knew the woman who'd becomeher dearest friend in the community Below was too familiar with herheart. The response was truthful, and from that heart. "Yes. Evennow."

Mary took the bride's hand into hers firmly. "Diana, in a fewmoments you will pledge your lives to one another. You will share alove as husband and wife. Vincent is joining his heart to yours as henever had the courage to pledge to Catherine. Your love for oneanother is on a different plane from his for Catherine. When you joinhim in the Great Hall, he will see only you, and all you have givenhim. You know his heart. Don't doubt him."

"It's myself I doubt, Mary. Never him."

"What could you possibly doubt in yourself, dear?" came the softlyunbelievable voice.

Diana thought for a long moment before responding. Vincent's wordsto her from this morning sounded so hopeful -- "Today is about whatcan be for us, not about what is denied us." She prayed that clingingto that belief would be enough for them. Something warm and radiantlypromising had been left to surround her with those words, but didthey truly reveal Vincent's own state of heart? He would do anythingto keep her from sorrow, she knew, just as she would do anything tokeep him from pain. Were they still loving at cross-purposes, on thisday of all days?

Mary's presence was so . . . sheltering . . . at the moment. IfDiana had to be denied a mother's counsel on her wedding day, knowingthat Mary's heart was open to her could be as comforting andwelcoming as a mother's care. She had to share her burden of doubtwith the gentle lady, give voice to the tiny seed of catastrophe thatwould yet take hold on her hope today.

"I'm not certain that I can live up to Vincent's -- ideals -- oflove for us. His relationship with Catherine was so, so --transcendent. I don't know that I can reach that place with him. Hehad to lose Catherine for me to find my heart's desire. She had todie before I could find my happiness."

"And you believe that that is the reason Vincent has had tostruggle for so long before accepting your love?"

Diana sat down on the edge of Mary's bed and focused her attentiontotally on the flowers in her hands. They were so beautiful, sodelightfully bright in their natural loveliness, and so fragile. Herown hold on her hope seemed just as fragile just then, even thoughshe'd believed otherwise in Vincent's arms earlier that morning.

"I don't believe he's struggled to accept my love, Mary, as muchas he's been afraid to acknowledge all of its parts. I've felt hisdeep devotion to me even when we were both so afraid to call it'love'. It's always been there, I've been so blessed to always feelit there for me. But there is a part of our love that has seemed tobring us more fear and pain than anything else."

The quiet words may have faltered to describe an indescribablesituation, but Mary read more of the meaning from what Diana didn'tsay than from what she was willing to give voice to.

"The part of your love that aches for a touch entinged bydoubt?"

Relief, profound and long-awaited, evident in Diana's deep greeneyes, told Mary she had deciphered the very root of the enigmaticpain insisting on manifesting itself within such a cherished soul onsuch a promising day. The older woman lifted a work-worn hand to thesuddenly unsteady hand of the young woman beside her.

"We are gifted with the ability to express our hearts eloquentlywhen even words fail us," Mary continued softly. "You know that,Diana, and treasure that ability as we all should. A look, a touch, ashared heartbeat in a moment of complete oneness, can only beconsidered wondrous opportunities to speak of our love to the onesoul we can commit ourselves to without doubt or reservation. But,for Vincent, those outward, physical expressions of love have heldonly fear. Unjustly so. Undeservedly so."

Diana's entire body seemed to plead for understanding with thewords quietly offered her in unexpected counsel. "Then you do believeit, too, Mary. It is undeserved fear, isn't it? It's a shadow of thepast that needs to be left in the past. Or else it will darken ourown hopes for the future. We will begin our life together haunted byit, shackled by it."

Mary's usually serene face clouded painfully. It was so much amother's face just then.

"I know it is difficult to comprehend how something so beautifulcould have become so terrifying to Vincent. It defies reasonableexplanation except in the fact that Vincent is totally incapable ofthinking ill of anyone he loves. He would believe himself a spawn ofhell itself before he would accept someone he loved as less than whathe believed them to be.

"But, I was there when he was a boy, after Lisa, when he woke inthe night screaming from the dreams, terrified that his merest touchcould harm those he cared for." A single tear made its way down thegentle, care-worn features of the elder woman, as she felt, even now,the hopelessness, and pain of that long-ago time.

"It nearly drove him mad, the thought he could habor a soul ofonly questionable humanity, capable of turning protective power intomindless, instinctive bestiality that could threaten at a moment'sprovocation.

"As he grew in strength and mercifully matured in spirit, Iwatched him shroud his deepest feelings, his most fragile dreams, inlayers of defensive denial, so that he'd never need fear a loss ofcontrol ever again. In that vigilant mindset he was even capable ofdenying his own worth, certain he'd only been placed upon this earthas an instrument of terror and darkness."

Diana felt the tears slip down her own cheeks at the words of amother's sad torment. "But, Mary, could he possibly have felt so evenwith Catherine? They conceived a child, in love."

Sadly, Mary shook her head. "Especially with Catherine," came herquiet conclusion, "and especially because that moment of consumationbetween them was lost to him, shrouded in that fear. I think that somuch of his pain at her death had to do with being robbed of theopportunity to grow in their love beyond the fear. They were edgingtowards that path, so hesitantly, when she was taken from him.

"I'd prayed that he could find and accept the reality of hissoul, in love. But even Catherine had been compelled to hold herbeliefs captive to his pain. She accepted him, in her love, as hepresented himself to her -- acknowledging only a shadow of worthyhumanity within himself that she could love in generosity andnobility."

For a long moment, both women fell silent, holding with painfulrecognition all that Mary had revealed from her maternal experiences.-- Generosity and nobility -- Diana knew that her responses toVincent's uncertainties in their relationship to date had beenanything but generous and noble.

She had been unflinchingly honest in her expectations,challenging, defying him to take hold of hope and wonder within hislife, daring him to love beyond limits and fears and the hauntingshame of the past. Was her own answer to the troubled heart of theman she loved any more capable of turning him away from his pain? Shehad believed it to be.

"Mary, how do we ever get past all this now?"

The words were not totally defeated, a distinct trace of acceptingdetermination lifting itself past what should have been evidence fortotal surrender to the inevitability of heartache. Mary, herself,took heart from the faint promise that sought her encouragement.

"You two must have come to some sort of . . . belief . . . aboutwhat was . . . possible

. . . between you, even if it wasn't actually anything you'd . . .spoken of." Mary's delicate probing of the condition of the twohearts she'd willingly shelter within her own sought to find somesense of the positive, and the possible, in which hope could onceagain

be grounded.

Diana's mind drifted off momentarily: The promise of what couldbe. Vincent had voiced that to her in an instant of unforced,unfeared, tenderness. Yet, there still would be so much between themthat he would deny. And in that denial, so much between them could bediminished as well. She confessed that the eroding fear was aliveeven in the promise they'd made each other that she now admitted toMary. "We pledged not to test any . . . limits . . . unless Vincentwas certain he could work through them without fear."

A gentle smile began slipping over Mary's subdued features. Dianacouldn't seem to understand what the older woman could find to be soreassuring in those words.

"You will simply have to touch his heart with the reality of whatmarried love could be for the two of you, offer him all of its gifts.Tonight. You do believe that is what is necessary, Diana, don'tyou?"

Suddenly totally in agreement with what Mary was demurely urgingher to, Diana responded in certain conviction. "If I didn't, would Ibe sitting here agonizing over it all like this?"

Mary offered Diana a hand up off the bed, then carefully smootheda nearly invisible wrinkle from the skirt of her wedding gown. Gentlyshe eased the misty veil back over the bride's face.

"This is the day you will begin sharing in your beloved's life ashis wife. No one else has ever had that tender welcome, Diana. Youare a breathtaking bride. You believe in your love with every fiberof your being. All you need to do is follow your heart. Vincent'swill lead him to you.

"There is nowhere else he can possibly go, nowhere else he canpossibly find his completion. He's acknowledged that to you himself.You've read it in his heart. You are the only one offering him thefulfillment of his humanity, the only one brave enough to hold him tohis hope.

"And believe it, Diana: If he wasn't ready to accept that giftingchallenge from you, even if it should only be within the deepest partof his heart, he would never have asked you to pledge yourself tohim. Have faith, dear. Love doesn't always have to be compliant andconceeding. Sometimes the greatest gift we can give to someone welove is the fearless ability to stand our ground in that love. Now,we'd better get to the Great Hall."

With a gentle kiss to her forehead through the veil, Mary led theway out of her chamber. Diana stooped to gather her train over herarm, her mind not exactly certain it was capable of processing thecolliding tides of expectations and directions assaulting it. Shecertainly was having a hard time accepting the fact that the quietlyreticent soul of the Underworld's matriarch had all but urged her toa clash of wills of epic proportions she thoroughly believed to bethe only way to re-establish promise within a heroic, yet tooresigned heart.

One thing seemed suddenly clear from the discussion the two womenhad just shared, though: The respective male hearts their own soughtto hold in total, gifting love, were not going to have an easy timeof it. Destinies hung in the balance here, this morning, and thosedestinies could no longer be left to linger within the comfortableconfines of mere chance.

"Diana, at this point in our lives, I think we are responsible formaking our own luck." Vincent's words to her brought the baresttraces of a smile as well, finally, to her face. He had no idea whatit meant to confront the luck of the Irish. If there was one thingGrandma Annie had always insisted on impressing upon her young and soreceptive soul, it was this: Her Celtic ancestors had long believedin the miraculous intervention of Providence itself within theirlives. They also long believed in their own responsibility to directthat providential care.

Diana was totally familiar with that hope-sustaining concept.

The Great Hall had never looked so wondrous, not even atWinterfest. It was ablaze with candles and the air was heady with theunimagined fragrances of dozens of spring flowers. Laura hadcoordinated many of the Helpers and together they had turned thestone-walled chamber into a spring garden for this so promising andhopeful celebration.

Diana and Samantha stood in a small recess at the head of themezzanine stairs, out of sight, so far, of most of the people findingtheir places in the main area of the great room below them. Thecelebration was running a few minutes late, so as to allow time forall the participants to reach the Hall safely. How typical of thecommunity Diana was becoming a part of -- the celebration would notbegin until everyone was given the opportunity to share in it fromthe outset. The sense of time here Below was so different, sowondrously benign.

Letting her gaze drift over the growing crowd of well-wishers,Diana felt drawn into the wonder of the moment. And it was a wonderfilled moment, truly, because it was one she'd never have dreamedpossible.

Destiny.

It seemed such a powerful word, imbued with an irresistible forcethat could hardly be overcome. Yet, standing at the head of theflower-garlanded stairs, Diana realized that for herself and forVincent, destiny had been woven of only the most fragile ofthreads.

Decisions made, or not made, had brought them down one path andnot another. A word spoken, a touch risked, at a particular moment,had set into motion events and freed feelings that were a part ofthat destiny before they even realized it. Incidents in the lives ofother people, the hopes, fears, and unacknowledged dreams of others,had somehow all found themselves woven into the fabric that made upthis day, too.

It could have so easily turned out differently, from the verybeginning:

If she hadn't let the desperate pleading in Joe's voice, "I havenowhere else to go," sway her decision, she would have never taken onthe investigation into Catherine's death.

Why had she broken her own rules then? She never let one caseintrude on another. She was used to hearing desperate voices in herline of work. By the time she got the cases she worked on they weredesperate ones, maddeningly unsolvable. Why should Joe have been ableto persuade her to take on his own frustrations?

Because she had caught sight of the heartache in his eyes as hehad spoken about Catherine to her.

And what about Catherine herself?

What forces had compelled her to make the decisions she did?

She had apparently never said a word to anyone about beingpregnant with Jacob. Joe hadn't known. Her own doctor and familyfriend, Peter, didn't know. She had never even told Vincent beforeGabriel had kidnapped her. Why?

Diana found herself suddenly propelled into that moment forcefullyin her mind. "My God, Cathy! You loved each other. You were carryinghis child. Why didn't you tell him right away? Why couldn't you tellhim?"

Knowing Vincent now, Diana was certain of what he would have donewith such news: He would have persuaded Catherine to remain Below. Hewould have kept her and Jacob safe. He would never have let themadness of the world Above risk harming the woman he loved, the childshe was bearing him.

Catherine, though, had not been able to share her heart with himjust then. If their places had been reversed, if Diana had foundherself in just such a situation, would she have acteddifferently?

The threads of destiny.

If Catherine hadn't died, Diana would never have come to knowVincent.

Even now that she was becoming a part of the Underworld community,Diana realized her own place in shaping the destiny she would besharing with Vincent, her own responses to the circumstances that hadbeen leveled at her.

When Vincent had left her apartment after she had nursed him backto life, she had sought him out even after he had warned her awayfrom the hellish nightmare that had become his life. She'd beencompelled to the tunnels one night by a force she could not deny,wouldn't dream of denying. And Vincent had been compelled to revealhis dark nature to her when she was threatened there.

Even so, her heart would not let her heed his forcefulinstruction: "You must forget me!"

"I can't," she'd replied, in agony of losing touch with him.

"Then remember me as you would a dream."

She could have listened to his words. She should have set theirencounter down in her heart and mind as one of those indecipherablemoments that a person can't even be certain had happened in reality.She could simply have offered it to her conscience as evidence of hercrumbling mental health.

But, she had not.

And because she had not, because she had remained at his side forthe past three years, despite of, or perhaps because of his bestefforts to dissuade her, she had been able to help Vincent findJacob, help him heal his heart enough to bring them both to thisday.

She had helped him learn to love again.

Yet, would destiny still control their lives, or would theycontrol their destinies?

Diana was so very much aware of one more decision that loomed solarge and untellingly important in their future together. They hadconvinced themselves that the fears and doubts of the past needed toalso play a role in their present lives. Because a terrifiedyoungster had stumbled into his manhood through a heartbreakingaccident of chance, the humanity of their love was going to be heldimprisoned for the rest of their lives.

It didn't have to be so.

Diana had followed enough of the intertwining threads of theexistence she and Vincent had managed to pull together for themselvesto know that deep within her beloved's own heart there was justenough hope to cling to, just enough belief to hang their destinyon.

All it would take was the right decision made at the rightmoment.

The humanity was there, so aching to be reassured, so needing tobe acknowledged and shared. The tender wonder of a loving desire wasno longer able to be denied. Vincent had revealed it to her in somany tiny, breathlessly beautiful instances.

There was no need for her to seduce his humanity.

What she needed to do was seduce his soul, into believing it couldbe possible.

Considering all they'd been through together the past three years,all they'd survived, a seduction of the soul would be very much inkeeping with their experiences of one another.

Mary's words echoed within her now. "If he wasn't ready to acceptthat gifting challenge from you, even if only in the deepest part ofhis heart, he would never have asked you to pledge yourself tohim."

He'd known it then, six months ago, when they'd accepted thattheir need for one another was one that would last a lifetime, andthat they could only survive that lifetime if they were together aspartners, as soulmates.

They could simply have walked their paths in life on thecontinued, heartbreaking, occasionally intersecting roads they couldsafely negotiate without too much risk. But they had chosen then totread the same paths, together, stumbling together, possibly, findingthemselves lost at times, but still always together.

As had become a familiar entity in their experiences of oneanother, destiny had played a role in even that decision, had ledthem to conclusions that they might have never had the courage, thehope, to draw. It had taken one of those situations totally beyondtheir control to head them into the proper direction. And,unwittingly, Joe had initiated the process again.

Diana let her eyes sweep over the happy, now so familiar, crowd ofpeople that was gathered to celebrate this special day with her andVincent. Joe was not there.

A momentary sorrow filled her heart at the thought: Joe wouldnever know how important a role he had played in their destinies.Diana would never be able to tell him that he'd probably done as muchto bring her to her happiness as her own Celtic stubborness had, onlyby much more labyrinthian means.

Thank God they were working together on this through it allsomehow! . . . Joe's subtle impact on her life, and her own head-ontenacity . . . Together they had managed to bring Vincent to a pointwhere he was forced to face his own heart's desire, and the demonssurrounding it only he could decide to vanquish.

As always, it had taken an act of God, completely unrelated to anyof them, to set it all in motion.