As Vincent escorted Catherine to her Sitting Room Alcove, the first thing she saw was the portrait, the illusive Kristopher had painted, and as her eyes traveled down the gallery wall, she couldn't believe Vincent had the John Keats portrait included there too.
Click on the link to read Poem
In disbelief, Catherine gushed, "John Keats? Vincent it can't be! How could you...where did you...that looks like the portrait I admired in his biography! Is it?"
Vincent nodded and said, "It is Catherine. Elizabeth replicated it for you upon my request. She did so out of gratitude, for all you had done to save her painted tunnels."
To which Catherine humbly said, "Vincent I did what I had to do for everyone, for you. The Tunnels could not be destroyed, not at any cost."
Vincent stood mesmerized by Catherine's sincerity, and her loyalty. He knew what was in her heart, and why she stopped Elliot, from constructing the monster that would have reached downward to devour their Tunnel homeland. He knew Catherine stopped Elliott for his sake, as there was no where else for him to live.
Catherine stepped closer still to the painting, and said, "It looks exactly like the real portrait from what I can remember. Oh Vincent, I wish I had your book with me to compare them! Is it in your chamber?"
Vincent tipped his head and resignedly said, "No Catherine, it is no longer in my possession."
He then said, "I suppose I have no choice, but to reveal what your welcome home gift was. It is what I left for you at your apartment Catherine, when I first visited there this evening."
Catherine smiled at Vincent, and held up her finger, signaling just one minute! Luckily, she had tucked Vincent's gift inside her overnight bag, when she went to find him earlier that evening.
As she held her wrapped gift up in her hands, she gleefully asked, "Is this John Keats Biography?"
After Vincent gave her an affirmative nod, Catherine carefully undid the material from the book, and held Vincent's gaze, as she hugged John Keats to her heart. Gratefully, she told him, "Thank you Vincent, I will treasure this book always."
Catherine leafed through her beautifully leather bound book and happily found the letter Vincent had written her!
Surprisingly, Catherine asked, "Vincent, is this a letter, for me?"
Vincent nodded and said, "Yes Catherine."
Catherine took the letter from its envelope and as she unfolded it, she handed it to Vincent, and asked, "Please read it to me."
Vincent lovingly said, "Yes Catherine." He then read:
Dearest Catherine,
As I left you last night, I thought my heart would burst from all
the sadness and worry it carried. Since then, I have talked to both
of my good friends, Pascal, and Ronald, and their words help to
sooth my worry, and put my trust in your strengths and to keep my
faith. I am open to our bond, and I sense a contentment within
you. This pleases me more than I can say. I know you are safe
and happy.
It will not be long and soon you will be home. I wanted these
words professing my undying love for you, to precede our long
awaited embrace. Hopefully, they shall precede me only by a little.
Catherine, I can think of little else, other then our last night
together. Holding each other as we had, keeps penetrating my
thoughts. You beguile me so. I long for the moment we may
embrace each other so sweetly again.
Till then Catherine Be well
Vincent
Catherine accepted the letter back from Vincent, and then she gently refolded it and placed it back within its envelope. Looking up into Vincent's eyes, she said, "Your letter is beautiful, and I love you went to such measures, to express your love for me. I do feel bad my coming home, had been tainted by Joe's message."
Vincent assuredly said, "We have encountered many stumbling blocks, but in the end, they seem to serve us in ways of forming a stronger foundation, on which we may build upon."
Vincent smiled, as he embarrassingly looked down, and added, "I am learning Catherine, please do not lose faith in me...in us."
Catherine, softly promised, "I won't Vincent."
As she took a deep breath, Catherine once again turned her attention to John Keats Bio, and anxiously said, "Vincent let's look and see how similar Elizabeth's painting is to the real one."
Catherine flipped to the page which held the picture of John Keats portrait, and then looked to the hanging copy, and said, "Oh my gosh Vincent, I cannot tell them apart! It is amazing. Elizabeth is so gifted!"
Vincent looked at the replica, and with his keen scrutinizing eye, he too marveled at how precisely Elizabeth had copied it, down to every last detail. He then told Catherine, "Elizabeth painted this by memory, with only a glance at the original!"
Catherine shook her head in wonderment, as she continued to admire her gallery. Astonishingly, she whispered, "Oh Vincent, the Mermaid paintings are beautiful too!"
Vincent looked at the paintings, as he said, "I remember you told me once, how you had always been intrigued, by the Mermaid legend. That although the stories of them are mythical, as a young girl, you always wondered if they might truly exist."
Catherine dreamily replied, "I always wanted to believe in my heart, they were real, I guess I still do."
As Catherine looked back toward the gallery, she expressed, "I love looking at these paintings so much, I especially love, the painting of the Mother holding her little baby... her baby, who is just as beautifully different as she is. That painting in particular, tugs at my heart so."
Vincent intently looked at the painting too. Curiously, he asked Catherine, "The child, looking so much like the Mother, possessing the same features...causes me to wonder...Do you suppose the mother, would have any regrets bringing a child into the world, knowing her child would acquire the same limiting traits, as she herself owns?"
Catherine looked up to Vincent, as she softly said, "Regrets? I don't see how that could be so Vincent, how could she? I can only imagine, when such a Mother, would look upon her child, an extension of herself, or of the man she loves, how could she ever regret partaking in such a miracle."
Vincent took Catherine's hand, and the two stood silently as they looked at the painting. They both wanted to say more, as the thought of together having a child one day, was now on both of their minds...but they left that beautiful thought for another day.
Vincent did have another subject on his mind, something he wanted to talk to Catherine about. It concerned the closeness which was building between them, and he was beginning to forget all the plans he so carefully had mapped out before Catherine moved below to the tunnels.
He felt in his heart, it was necessary for Catherine to experience life in the tunnels for a while, to access whether she could be content here.
Vincent did not want to confuse her with any intimacy, and...he wanted to wait until Catherine would one day consent to become his wife.
He felt he needed to discuss this issue with Catherine, no matter how hard it was for him to broach the subject.
Vincent led Catherine to a chair within her sitting room, and as he knelt beside her he said, "I don't know how to approach a subject, I want to discuss with you."
A chill ran through Catherine, wondering what could cause Vincent to be so serious.
Wearily, Catherine prodded, "Well sometimes it is best to just say it."
To be continued
Chapter Seventeen
Click on the link to read Poem
In disbelief, Catherine gushed, "John Keats? Vincent it can't be! How could you...where did you...that looks like the portrait I admired in his biography! Is it?"
Vincent nodded and said, "It is Catherine. Elizabeth replicated it for you upon my request. She did so out of gratitude, for all you had done to save her painted tunnels."
To which Catherine humbly said, "Vincent I did what I had to do for everyone, for you. The Tunnels could not be destroyed, not at any cost."
Vincent stood mesmerized by Catherine's sincerity, and her loyalty. He knew what was in her heart, and why she stopped Elliot, from constructing the monster that would have reached downward to devour their Tunnel homeland. He knew Catherine stopped Elliott for his sake, as there was no where else for him to live.
Catherine stepped closer still to the painting, and said, "It looks exactly like the real portrait from what I can remember. Oh Vincent, I wish I had your book with me to compare them! Is it in your chamber?"
Vincent tipped his head and resignedly said, "No Catherine, it is no longer in my possession."
He then said, "I suppose I have no choice, but to reveal what your welcome home gift was. It is what I left for you at your apartment Catherine, when I first visited there this evening."
Catherine smiled at Vincent, and held up her finger, signaling just one minute! Luckily, she had tucked Vincent's gift inside her overnight bag, when she went to find him earlier that evening.
As she held her wrapped gift up in her hands, she gleefully asked, "Is this John Keats Biography?"
After Vincent gave her an affirmative nod, Catherine carefully undid the material from the book, and held Vincent's gaze, as she hugged John Keats to her heart. Gratefully, she told him, "Thank you Vincent, I will treasure this book always."
Catherine leafed through her beautifully leather bound book and happily found the letter Vincent had written her!
Surprisingly, Catherine asked, "Vincent, is this a letter, for me?"
Vincent nodded and said, "Yes Catherine."
Catherine took the letter from its envelope and as she unfolded it, she handed it to Vincent, and asked, "Please read it to me."
Vincent lovingly said, "Yes Catherine." He then read:
Dearest Catherine,
As I left you last night, I thought my heart would burst from all
the sadness and worry it carried. Since then, I have talked to both
of my good friends, Pascal, and Ronald, and their words help to
sooth my worry, and put my trust in your strengths and to keep my
faith. I am open to our bond, and I sense a contentment within
you. This pleases me more than I can say. I know you are safe
and happy.
It will not be long and soon you will be home. I wanted these
words professing my undying love for you, to precede our long
awaited embrace. Hopefully, they shall precede me only by a little.
Catherine, I can think of little else, other then our last night
together. Holding each other as we had, keeps penetrating my
thoughts. You beguile me so. I long for the moment we may
embrace each other so sweetly again.
Till then Catherine Be well
Vincent
Catherine accepted the letter back from Vincent, and then she gently refolded it and placed it back within its envelope. Looking up into Vincent's eyes, she said, "Your letter is beautiful, and I love you went to such measures, to express your love for me. I do feel bad my coming home, had been tainted by Joe's message."
Vincent assuredly said, "We have encountered many stumbling blocks, but in the end, they seem to serve us in ways of forming a stronger foundation, on which we may build upon."
Vincent smiled, as he embarrassingly looked down, and added, "I am learning Catherine, please do not lose faith in me...in us."
Catherine, softly promised, "I won't Vincent."
As she took a deep breath, Catherine once again turned her attention to John Keats Bio, and anxiously said, "Vincent let's look and see how similar Elizabeth's painting is to the real one."
Catherine flipped to the page which held the picture of John Keats portrait, and then looked to the hanging copy, and said, "Oh my gosh Vincent, I cannot tell them apart! It is amazing. Elizabeth is so gifted!"
Vincent looked at the replica, and with his keen scrutinizing eye, he too marveled at how precisely Elizabeth had copied it, down to every last detail. He then told Catherine, "Elizabeth painted this by memory, with only a glance at the original!"
Catherine shook her head in wonderment, as she continued to admire her gallery. Astonishingly, she whispered, "Oh Vincent, the Mermaid paintings are beautiful too!"
Vincent looked at the paintings, as he said, "I remember you told me once, how you had always been intrigued, by the Mermaid legend. That although the stories of them are mythical, as a young girl, you always wondered if they might truly exist."
Catherine dreamily replied, "I always wanted to believe in my heart, they were real, I guess I still do."
As Catherine looked back toward the gallery, she expressed, "I love looking at these paintings so much, I especially love, the painting of the Mother holding her little baby... her baby, who is just as beautifully different as she is. That painting in particular, tugs at my heart so."
Vincent intently looked at the painting too. Curiously, he asked Catherine, "The child, looking so much like the Mother, possessing the same features...causes me to wonder...Do you suppose the mother, would have any regrets bringing a child into the world, knowing her child would acquire the same limiting traits, as she herself owns?"
Catherine looked up to Vincent, as she softly said, "Regrets? I don't see how that could be so Vincent, how could she? I can only imagine, when such a Mother, would look upon her child, an extension of herself, or of the man she loves, how could she ever regret partaking in such a miracle."
Vincent took Catherine's hand, and the two stood silently as they looked at the painting. They both wanted to say more, as the thought of together having a child one day, was now on both of their minds...but they left that beautiful thought for another day.
Vincent did have another subject on his mind, something he wanted to talk to Catherine about. It concerned the closeness which was building between them, and he was beginning to forget all the plans he so carefully had mapped out before Catherine moved below to the tunnels.
He felt in his heart, it was necessary for Catherine to experience life in the tunnels for a while, to access whether she could be content here.
Vincent did not want to confuse her with any intimacy, and...he wanted to wait until Catherine would one day consent to become his wife.
He felt he needed to discuss this issue with Catherine, no matter how hard it was for him to broach the subject.
Vincent led Catherine to a chair within her sitting room, and as he knelt beside her he said, "I don't know how to approach a subject, I want to discuss with you."
A chill ran through Catherine, wondering what could cause Vincent to be so serious.
Wearily, Catherine prodded, "Well sometimes it is best to just say it."
To be continued
Chapter Seventeen
| Dreams of Gold! By Sharon Holtz Chapter Sixteen Check out Catherine's new Chamber |
