"Brother!"
Bastien slowed his steps and turned as Etienne hurried to join him.
"Lucern and Kate told me what was up, and asked me to help you."
Bastien nodded, then glanced around. "Vincent was headed in this direction when last I saw him. I thought to search this area first, then make a sweep of the rest of the hall."
"Good thinking." Etienne fell into step as he started to walk again. After a few minutes, he said, "So, a little birdie tells me Terri is… important to you."
"A little birdie, huh?" Bastien asked dryly.
"Yeah." When Bastien didn't either agree or disagree, Etienne added, "I was talking to Terri at the party last night. She seems nice. Actually, she
is
nice," he said, collecting himself. He explained, "I read her mind."
"I can't do that, so it's good to know my instincts about her are correct." Bastien said.
"Well, I can read her, and I can tell you that I like her. She's like my Rachel—something special."
"Yes, she is," Bastien agreed. "She's sweet and beautiful and smart and—"
"And you can't read her," Etienne repeated. "And you love her. You've obviously found your life mate. Congratulations, brother! I'm very happy for you."
"Yes. Well, don't tell Mother that." Bastien shook his head as Etienne clapped a hand on his back. He didn't need any interference.
"Don't tell me what?"
Both brothers turned, groaning as Marguerite Argeneau joined them.
"Mother." Bastien kissed her cheek dutifully. Etienne followed suit.
"I don't know why you boys keep trying to hide things from me. One would think at your age you would know better than to even waste your time trying. I am your mother. I see, hear, and know
everything."
"Is that right?" Bastien asked.
"That's right," she said firmly. "And perhaps you will realize it in another two hundred years. It only took Lucern until he was six hundred to figure it out. Honestly. Boys are so much harder to raise than girls." Marguerite scowled at her sons for grinning at this oft-heard complaint, then sighed. "So, no doubt you don't want Etienne to tell me that you love Katie's little cousin Terri?"
Etienne burst out laughing at Bastien's grimace.
"Well, you didn't think it had slipped my notice, did you?" their mother asked with amusement. "After four hundred years, one would expect me to know and understood my boy enough to recognize when he is in love." She sighed, then nodded. "I approve, by the way. She's a lovely girl. And it will ease some of Kate's feelings of loss when she has to give up the rest of her family. Not to mention that having Katie in the family will make it easier on Terri as well. Actually, this will all work quite nicely."
"I hadn't thought of that," Bastien said with surprise. "I mean; them making it easier for each other."
"Well, that's why you have a mother." Marguerite patted his shoulder, then glanced around. "Have you tried looking out in the hallway, or the bars on the main floor?" When her two sons exchanged glances, she rolled her eyes. "Well, you didn't expect Vincent to bite her right here, did you? He'll use a nice dark corner. Come along, then. Let's find the boy before he gets himself in trouble."
"We can take care of this, Mother," Bastien said quickly. "Why don't you—?"
"Miss all the fun?" she asked. "I don't think so."
When Bastien and Etienne exchanged wry looks, she added, "Just thank me for deciding not to interfere with you and Terri."
"You won't?" Bastien eyed her with a combination of hope and wariness. He found it difficult to believe she meant that.
"I won't," Marguerite assured him. "You seem to be doing well enough on your own. Mind you, should you mess things up I may change my mind." On that note, she turned to lead the way out of the room.
Terri watched Bastien, Etienne and their mother leave the hall in search of Vincent as she listened idly to her aunt raving about this "perfectly lovely man" that she thought Terri should meet. It was sweet of the woman, really, but Terri wasn't looking for a man. She had one. Well, sort of. Her gaze slid back to the door through which Bastien had exited.
"Terri doesn't need a man, Mom. She already has one," Kate announced as Lucern led her over.
"She does?" Lydia Leever asked avidly. "You didn't say anything, dear. Who is he?"
"Lucern's brother Bastien," Kate answered.
"Oh!" Aunt Lydia was obviously pleased at the news, for she hugged Terri. "Well, that's wonderful. He's such a handsome man, and if he's half as nice as Lucern, the two of you should be very happy."
"I'm glad you think I'm nice, Mrs. Leever," Lucern interjected. "I hope that means you'll consent to dance with your new son-in-law?"
"Call me Mom, Lucern. You're family now," Aunt Lydia said. Lucern led her out onto the dance floor.
Kate smiled at Terri, as John Leever, her father, stood to take his turn on the dance floor with her as well. Terri watched them go, her thoughts drifting back to Bastien now that she was alone and no longer distracted. He had told her in the car on the way to the reception hall that he had something he wanted to discuss with her. Those solemn words had been bothering her ever since. They had immediately brought several things to mind: the vials, the blood bags, the IV stand, and Kate saying there was something that Bastien needed to tell her. Terri had been worrying over the topic ever since.
What was he going to tell her? How bad was it going to be? She hoped it wasn't too horrible, but she supposed she'd have to wait and see.
Terri shifted restlessly on her feet, then set her empty glass down on the nearest table and made her way to the ladies' room. Two ladies were leaving as she entered. Terri didn't recognize either woman, so she assumed they were either friends of Kate's from the city or relatives from the Argeneau side. She smiled and nodded politely as they passed, then walked along the stalls to the end.
Terri went in, locked the stall door behind her, pulled her skirt up and her panties down, and released a sigh of relief as she sat down. Her feet were a bit sore from her new shoes and all the standing she had done today—first at the ceremony, then on the church steps in the receiving line, and finally while posing for the endless wedding pictures. The reception had offered the first real chance she'd had to sit down, but it had been endlessly interrupted by standing as one guest or another made a toast to the bride and groom. Now the meal was over and the dancing had started. Terri wasn't too sure her feet were up to that. At least, not in these shoes. Her feet felt swollen and chafed in the satin bridesmaid slippers.
She lifted her feet, holding them straight out to examine them. The shoes were pretty enough, but damned uncomfortable. Terri briefly considered whether it would be bad form to take the darn things off and run around in stockinged feet for the rest of the night. She thought she might get away with it—the skirt was long; it might hide her bare feet—but her stockings would no doubt be ruined by night's end.
Stockings or feet? Which should she sacrifice? she pondered, staring at her raised shoes.
"Has Bastien told Terri yet?"
Terri stiffened inside her stall, her feet still straight out in the air.
"Shh, Lissianna." She recognized Kate's voice. "Someone could be in here."
"I checked first. The stalls are empty," Bastien's sister said reassuringly.
Terri glanced from her raised feet to the floor where they should have been. Having them up as she did, Lissianna had seen only what appeared to be an empty stall. Well, this was embarrassing. What should she do? Lower her feet and cough or something, to let the two women know that they weren't alone? Or should she keep her mouth shut and avoid embarrassing herself or the others? She'd also learn what they were talking about.
"Oh." Kate sighed. "No, Bastien hasn't told her yet, and I wish he would. He won't be able to keep it a secret for long. She's
bound
to find out."
Find out what? Terri wondered, prickly heat running down her neck.
"She leaves soon, though, doesn't she?" Lissianna asked.
"And do you think he won't follow? Or that she won't come back?"
"You think it's that serious?" Bastien's sister asked with interest.
"Yes. And you do, too, or you wouldn't be asking if he'd told her," Kate said dryly. "It's hardly something you tell just any gal you're dating."
Told me what?
Terri repeated in her head. Damn, she wished they'd get more specific. And hurry. Her muscles were starting to burn from holding her legs up. She didn't know how much longer she could keep them raised.
"Yes, it's serious," Kate went on with a sigh. "I know Terri. She loves him with all her heart. Being just as much in love with Lucern I recognize the signs," she added dryly. "The way they feel about each other, they won't be apart for any longer than necessary.
If
she even goes home, or he doesn't just follow her back to England. Either way, he has to tell her. It wouldn't be a good thing for her to find out on her own."
"No," Lissianna agreed. "It's better he tell her than she find out by accident."
Find out what?
Terri wanted to scream with frustration. Not to mention pain—her legs were now absolutely killing her.
"I don't know why he's delaying," Kate fretted. Lissianna gave a short laugh. "That's easy enough to answer. It's because he loves her just as much as she loves him. I've never seen him like this. The man is always smiling, or whistling, or—I wasn't yet around when Josephine was in his life, but Lucern says Bastien wasn't even this happy when he thought he loved
her."
Terri almost sighed out loud at this news. His family thought Bastien loved her. And she made him happier than Josephine—whoever that was. Her legs were suddenly forgotten. She could take a little pain. "Well, then, why is he risking things working out with Terri by keeping quiet?" Kate asked. She sounded frustrated.
"As I said, because he loves her," Lissianna repeated. "Haven't you heard about Josephine?"
"Yes, of course. But Terri is different. She'll be more understanding. Especially after what she went through with Ian. She—"
Whatever came next was lost to Terri, for music briefly swept into the room as the door was opened, then receded to silence again as it closed. Lissianna and Kate were gone.
Chapter Eighteen
Terri's thoughts were in an uproar.
"Terri is different, she'll be more understanding, especially after what she went through with Ian."
Kate's words brought a myriad of memories floating through her mind: sobbing into her pillow at night as she listened helplessly to Ian's moans of pain, a pain that no amount of morphine would ease; the sickly sweet smell of death in the house that had seemed to cling to everything, including Terri herself, for months afterward; Ian's loss of dignity as he grew so weak he had to have every little thing done for him, down to the most personal and humiliating task.
It had been torturous for Terri. But she knew it had been a thousand times worse for him, and she'd had to carry that burden too. She'd known that Ian wished it would all just end. He'd begged her many times to finish it for him, once he was too weak to manage it himself. Terri had resented that. If he had wanted to end it, why had he waited until he couldn't do it himself? Why wait until the weight rested on her shoulders, and she had to carry the guilt of not being able to do it for him? For Terri had borne a mountain of guilt. She'd felt guilty that it was he and not she, that she was healthy while he suffered; that she couldn't save him; and ultimately, that she couldn't even end his suffering when he asked it of her.
More understanding, Kate had said? Yes, Terri understood. She knew exactly what Bastien would go through with whatever terminal illness he had, because it seemed to her that this was what they had been speaking of. The medicine, the blood, the IV stand, and the secrets all suddenly made sense. As did the medication that caused photosensitivity, and the fact that Bastien merely picked at his food most of the time, seeming to have no appetite. It was all so obvious now: Strong, handsome Bastien had a terminal illness. Terri understood. She understood how it would go, and it was always the same. Death was death, whether by Hodgkin's disease, breast cancer, or whatever Bastien was suffering. Terri knew this, and she hated the fact that he was going to suffer.
But she couldn't, she wouldn't go through it with him. It was impossible. She had thought suffering with her mother and Ian was bad. But Bastien? Watching that vital, strong, and handsome man fade to skin and bones? To see him become weak and lost to horrible pain? Having him beg her to end it for him as his body rotted away? It would kill her. Terri could not handle it. She knew she couldn't. And she was suddenly angry. So terribly angry. How dare he let her fall in love with him, knowing that he was dying? How dare he not tell her about his condition from the start, so that she might have guarded her heart and saved herself all the coming trauma? How dare he be sick on her? How dare he even consider dying? How dare he?
The bathroom filled with music and laughter as several women entered. Terri was aware of their chatter, but didn't really hear it as her mind whirled under what she had just learned. She waited where she was until they left and silence filled the room again; then she let her feet back down, straightened her clothes and let herself out of the stall. She moved to the sink and stared at her reflection as she washed her hands, but didn't really see herself at first. Her mind was caught up in memories of Ian. But now, when she recalled how Ian had lain moaning in bed at night, he had Bastien's face. When Ian begged her to end it all, it was Bastien speaking.
Movement drew her attention to her reflection, and Terri stared blankly at the tears running down her cheeks. She was crying, which seemed odd because she wasn't aware of feeling anything. In fact, her mind seemed rather numb. Yet there they were: tears leaking out of hollow eyes and coursing down her cheeks in little rivulets. She turned her attention to her face and noted that she was blanched of all color.