"Barnabas? You awake?"
Willie was asking as Barnabas Collins opened his eyes and looked
around, trying to regain his bearings. "You alright,
Barnabas?"
"Yes," Barnabas assured his friend.
"I suppose I must have dozed off for a moment."
He watched as Willie lit some candles.
"More than a moment," Willie told
him. "I left to go into Collinsport two hours ago.
You were sitting here then."
Glancing at the clock on the mantle, Barnabas
frowned. "I'm due at Collinwood for dinner."
"Yeah. That's why I woke you
up."
"Thank you, Willie," Barnabas
said, but he wasn't sure he meant it. The dream had been
so real. And the temptation to cry off dinner at Collinwood
and simply go upstairs to his bed was strong, except that he knew
that dreams didn't continue themselves from one time to another.
It was over, and as Julia insisted, he had to accept that he would
never see Angelique again. He would get on with his life.
He had to.
He had no more entered Collinwood than
Roger appeared from the study. "Barnabas. Liz
was beginning to be concerned that you had forgotten dinner this
evening."
"I very nearly did," Barnabas
said. "Willie reminded me of the time."
"Do you have a moment? I'd like
to discuss something with you."
"Of course." He followed
Roger to the study, accepted the glass of sherry his cousin offered.
"I'm not certain how to start,"
Roger said slowly. "What exactly is your relationship
with Julia?"
Barnabas frowned. "Julia?
We're friends. She's probably the best friend I have.
I suppose I feel toward her as you do toward Elizabeth.
Why do you ask, Roger? It's not like you to be curious about
such matters."
"You know that she's in love with you?"
"No, Roger, she's not. Oh, she
might have once believed herself to be in love with me, but time
and experiences have made her face reality."
"And that reality is-?"
"That I have resigned myself to remaining
alone for the rest of my life. Julia, like many other career
oriented women, tended to misread my friendship. Her feeling
for me is the reciprocal of mine for her."
"You've discussed this?"
"Why, yes. The other evening
over dinner at the Old House, as a matter of fact. I rather
had the feeling that she was interested in someone else, and wanted
my blessing, even though it is quite unnecessary."
Roger's blue eyes became excited.
"And did you give it?"
"I couldn't-not without knowing who
the other party might be. Would you by any chance know who
the lucky man might be?"
"I hope I do, Barnabas. In fact,
I hope it's me."
Barnabas found himself smiling. "So
do I, Roger. Julia deserves someone to care about her.
She's been very loyal, very special."
"She is that," Roger agreed.
He shook his head ruefully. "It's been so sudden.
She and I have lived in this house practically under each other's
feet for the last five years and never really paid any attention
to one another. And I still can't tell when I realized how
I felt. But I care very much for Julia, and wanted to make
certain that I wouldn't be upsetting you if I asked her out."
"Julia's her own person, Roger.
I can't tell her who to see or who not to see. I can, however,
wish you happiness."
"Thank you." There was a
knock on the door and both men turned to find the very person
that they had been discussing standing there.
"Good evening, Julia," Barnabas
said.
"What are the two of you doing in here?"
she asked. "Elizabeth says that dinner is ready."
"Then we shouldn't keep my sister waiting,
should we?" Roger asked, offering his arm to the surprised
woman. Julia looked from Roger to Barnabas, then accepted
his offer.
Barnabas thoughtfully followed them into
the dining room.
He excused himself as soon as he could
after the meal, after seeing Julia and Roger leave together for
a walk. Elizabeth had asked his opinion regarding a new
contract for the cannery, and it was becoming all Barnabas could
do to keep his mind on what was taking place around him.
The memory of the dream was returning, as clear and sharp as though
he were looking at it through a window. It was a powerful
draw, pulling him back to the Old House. He
paused several times during the return home, to look around, comparing-He
opened the front door and was hanging his coat and cane when Willie
entered the foyer.
"You're back early," he commented.
"I didn't expect you for another hour or so."
"Why don't you take the rest of the
evening off, Willie," Barnabas suggested. "I don't
think I'll be needing you further tonight."
Willie frowned, uncertain of Barnabas' mood.
"You sure you're alright, Barnabas?"
Barnabas paused, his hand on the stair-rail.
"I think so, Willie. Or I will be once I get some rest.
Good night."
"Rest? But-you slept most of
the afternoon."
"I know. Perhaps-with the work
I've been doing at the shipyard, I've simply overdone it a bit.
Good night." He continued up the stair, leaving a frowning
Willie behind.
Upstairs, Barnabas prepared for bed and slid between the cool, cotton sheets. Now that he was in bed, sleep seemed elusive. A thousand thoughts began to crush in on him: the work that needed done before the shipyards could open on schedule, whether Julia and Roger would marry, concern for Quentin's growing relationship with Maggie. His eyes began to close. He would have to talk to his cousin about Maggie, he decided. He couldn't stand by and see Maggie hurt when Quentin had to leave Collinwood. "Have to protect her," he said.