Chapter Summary: Raoul and Christine continue to drift further apart. Their eldest son, Jean-Paul, learns that his friend has shot his brother and abducted his sister. And Richard, the middle son, brings news to Katherine and her cousins.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The bright summer sun shone into the great house, lighting the rooms, casting away the shadows of the night. It sparkled off of polished glass and warm wood. It illuminated dark corners and reached into deepest parts of unused rooms. The sun did its best to bring warmth and joy into the house that was no longer a home. Even the dust pixies dancing in the bright beams could not find the magic to lift the dark and somber mood that had descended, wrapping house and occupants in its cold black blanket.

Now that Gustave was sleeping normally, Raoul and the doctor tried to convince Christine to get some rest.

"I am not leaving his side," Christine told them in a flat tone of voice as she stood outside her son's door.

"Madame, please," Dominic had pleaded. "You will do your son no good if you collapse from exhaustion."

His nerves on edge as much as those of his wife, Raoul could not help the words that slipped out. "Do not be such a little fool." He knew he had said them but could not find the energy to care or to regret them.

"What?" Christine's eyes had narrowed dangerously.

"You are being foolish," Raoul repeated.

"My son has been shot," Christine said between clenched teeth, fighting back the tears. "My daughter may be dead for all you care and all you have to say to me is that I am being foolish?"

"They are my children, too!" Raoul shot back. "Do not tell me what I do and do not care about!"

"If you had ever kept your promises to me ..." Christine, also, did not have the energy to think about what she was saying.

"If you had not been seduced by that ..."

"Don't you dare!"

Raoul and Christine stared at each other, each alone in their fear, anger and guilt.

"This is not my fault!" Christine said as the tears began to fall.

"I never said it was."

"But you blame me."

Raoul could not look at his wife. "I blame myself!" he nearly shouted.

"Oh God," Christine breathed. "What are we doing?"

Dominic, who had been quietly watching, cleared his throat. "Speaking as your doctor and not your friend, I need to tell you that you are both beyond exhausted and need to get some rest. As your friend, I need to tell you that blaming each other or yourselves is going to accomplish nothing. I do not think either of you wishes at this point to say something that you will come to regret later. You both need to be strong for your children and leave the guilt, anger and recriminations to the one person who deserves it most - the man who did this." He took Raoul and Christine by the hands. "Yes?"

"Raoul," Christine said, the sobs beginning again.

"Christine," her husband replied as he took his wife in his arms.

Dominic heaved a sigh of relief as his friends stood in the hallway, wrapped in each other's arms, crying out their fears and the tension of the last day. Christine finally agreed rest; although she had vehemently refused their request of a sleeping draught, insisting that as soon as Gustave awoke she wanted to be at his side. Dominic had taken one last look at his sleeping patient before walking down the grand staircase with Raoul and the surgeon.

"You promise me that you, too, will find some time to rest?"

Raoul nodded his head. "I'll try but I must send Richard to see Katherine and her cousins. They need to know that Andrew had nothing to do with this. I need let Inspector Berube know what Gustave has said." He sighed, dreading the last thing he needed to do. "And I need to speak to Jean-Paul." He managed a weak smile. "Then I shall try and get some rest. I cannot promise, though, that it will do much good; I dread closing my eyes because of the thoughts of what Annalise might be going through." Raoul shook his head.

"It is easy for me to say do not think upon such things," Dominic told him, "for I am not a father whose daughter is missing. But I will tell you that you must keep your strength up for Annalise will need it when she returns."

"When?"

"I refuse to believe otherwise and you must do the same, no matter how difficult that may seem."

"Thank you," Raoul told him as he shook Dominic's hand, closing the door behind him and the surgeon. He sighed as he turned around, thinking of the things that still needed to be done. He saw the door to the dining room opening, Richard walking out. "Richard," Raoul called out softly to his son, motioning for the young man to follow him.

Raoul opened the door to one of the small parlors, allowing his son to enter, before closing it behind them. Raoul sat in one of the wing chairs, uncertain if he would be able to get up from it. "I need you to do something for me," he began.

"It is not Gustave?" Richard asked, fear gripping his heart tighter than he had thought possible at that moment.

"No," Raoul assured him. "No. Your brother is sleeping normally and the doctors will be back later this afternoon to look in on him. Your mother has even been convinced to try and rest."

"Thank God," Richard breathed.

"You have not asked what your brother said when he awoke."

Richard lowered his head. "I am almost afraid of what he said."

Raoul sighed, the exhaustion beginning to catch up with him. "Andrew was riding with your brother when Annalise ..." Raoul had to pause for a brief moment. "When your sister was taken. Gustave sent Andrew after your sister." Raoul managed a small smile at the relief that crossed his middle son's face.

"But," Richard said as the relief was replaced by confusion, "who did this? Who could be capable of doing such things?"

"That is going to be the hard part for Jean-Paul. The person who did this is his friend, Michaud Deschene."

Richard opened his mouth and closed it, sitting in stunned silence.

"I need you to go to the ambassador's residence and let them know what has happened. Katherine and her cousins do not need their fears hanging over them." Raoul leaned back in his chair. "There is enough of that in this house. I am asking you to do this because you are the most even-tempered of all of my children. I am counting on that balance." He raised fingers to massage the bridge of his nose. "You will need to take an unmarked coach. I am sure all of Paris knows what has happened by this time and you do not need to be answering prying questions from well-meaning, nosy people."

"Leonie is in the nursery with Chloe; she has not been able to draw herself from Chloe's side," Richard said, shaking his head. "I do not know if I would be doing as well as you should it be Chloe ... I'm sorry. I did not mean ..." He stood. "I ought to go and tell Leonie what has been said and then go to see Katherine and Monsieur and Madame Norris.

Raoul reached out for his son's hand as Richard walked by. "Richard," he told him, "you have nothing for which to feel sorry. You are a parent now so you understand."

Richard could not find the words so he just nodded and left the room.

Raoul stood slowly, drawing a deep breath, composing himself for what he had to do next. As he crossed the room, he noticed a book carelessly discarded on a side table, a blue satin ribbon marking where the reader had left off. Raoul moved to the table, opening the book and removing the ribbon. He raised it to his face, inhaling the light fragrance of lavender that still clung to it, his eyes closing as he tried to compose himself. "God, please hold her in Your hands," the whispered prayer came, "and bring her back safely to us. This place is not a home without her. Safely, God, safely." Raoul stuck his daughter's ribbon in his pocket and went to find his eldest child.

He found Jean-Paul in the dining room, a plate of untouched food in front of him. Jean-Paul looked up as the door opened, rising to his feet as his father entered the room. Raoul motioned for him to sit and took the chair next to his son.

"Your brother woke up this morning," Raoul began.

"Thank God!"

"He has a small inflammation of his wound but the doctors are not concerned."

"It is an answer to prayer." Jean-Paul heaved a sigh of relief. "May I ask if he said who did this? Did he say who has Annalise?"

Raoul could not look at his son.

"Sir?" Jean-Paul asked the concern in his voice evident upon his face. "Who is it? Please do not tell me it was Andrew for I cannot believe that young man capable of shooting his friend."

Raoul laid a hand over one of Jean-Paul's. "No, it was not Andrew," he said softly.

"What is it? I can see it in your face. What is wrong? What did Gustave say?"

"It was Michaud," Raoul said simply.

"No," Jean-Paul replied, shaking his head in disbelief. "No. No, no, no."

"Jean-Paul ..." Raoul tried.

"I trusted him," Jean-Paul said as he rose to his feet. "I had him in my house with my wife and child." He turned from his father. "Oh God, I invited him to lunch at Annalise's request! What have I done? This is my fault! I ought to have known ..."

Raoul also rose to his feet, placing a hand on his son's shoulder, gently turning him around. "There are already enough people in this family blaming themselves for what has happened. Do not add yourself to the group."

"I ought to have known!"

"How? How were you to have known?"

"I am the oldest! I ought to have known."

"Your sister," Raoul had to stop and take a breath, "has always had a mind of her own. If she truly wanted to see Michaud, she would have found a way to do so with or without your help."

"But I still ought to have known! He was always different when we were younger. He had such a temper ..." Jean-Paul's voice trailed off. "Oh God ... Annalise ..."

"Listen to me and hear what I am saying." Raoul kept his hand on his son's shoulder, making him sit. Raoul resumed sitting next to him. "This is not your responsibility. The responsibility for this lies with no one in this family, do you understand me?" Raoul used Dominic's words for he could not find his own through the guilt that still clung to his mind. He waited until his son nodded, miserably. "I want you to hold on to one thing for it is the one thing that is keeping me from going out of my mind."

"What is that?" Jean-Paul asked quietly.

"Your sister has been gifted with a wonderful mind and an amazing spirit that have carried her this far. I also know that she can be as elegant and dignified as your mother when she so chooses. I pray to God that her dignity and her spirit and her mind will see her through this and bring her home safely. If I did not think that they would, I would not be able to go on another moment without losing my mind." Raoul looked at his son, knowing that his own guilt and misery were reflected in Jean-Paul's face. "You must try. Your wife is going to be looking to you for strength and support and your mother does not need to see that look on your face. She has seen it far too often on mine."

"I shall try." He stood. "I ought to go find Therese and tell her." Jean-Paul nodded. "You were right; she is going to need my support." A question crossed his face. "Where is Richard? Does he know?"

"He does know," Raoul replied as he placed his aching head into his hands. "I sent him to the ambassador's residence."

The time for the ride to the American ambassador's residence seemed to double as Richard sat in the back of the coach, his fingers drumming on the seat next to him. He thought of his own daughter, so small and helpless, and wondered at the wisdom of bringing a child into the world if this was to be the outcome. He thought of his brothers - one who was devastated that he could not stop it from happening and one who would be equally as devastated that he had not seen it coming. He thought of his parents and how their past and their lies about that past had come back to haunt them, tearing their family and their marriage apart. But Richard's thoughts would always turn back to the missing part of his family's life and he prayed for her safety.

Richard closed his eyes. "We will not be a family again until she comes home. Please bring her back to us," he prayed softly.

"Sir?"

So lost had he been in his thoughts that Richard had not known that the coach had stopped, his driver opening the door. Richard alighted from the coach and walked up to the front door the residence, drawing a deep breath, steadying his nerves. He nodded at the doorman and walked in.

"I need to see Monsieur or Madame Norris or Mademoiselle Cameron," he told the man waiting inside the home.

"They are not seeing anyone at the moment," the man told Richard.

"Please, I think they will see me. My name is Richard de Chagny and I bring news."

A flicker of interest passed quickly over the well-trained servant's face. "Wait here," he told Richard before walking off down a hallway.

Richard fought the temptation to begin pacing. He looked around at the elegant interior of the residence and was growing bored, about ready to storm off down the hall when the servant returned.

"Please," he said, motioning for Richard to follow him.

Richard found himself ushered into a large sitting room. William Norris stood between the door through which Richard had just entered and the back of the room where his wife, Abigail, and niece, Katherine, sat. Richard could see that they had also passed a sleepless night. He also could not fail to see that Katherine had obviously spent most of the time since leaving their home the previous night in tears.

"Say what you have to say and say it quickly," William told him, an angry tone in his voice.

Richard could not fault him. "Please, sir," he started and began again. "I come with news for your family. It is not as bad as you are thinking but it is not entirely good, either."

Katherine rose unsteadily to her feet. "Andrew?"

"Gustave awoke this morning and he told my parents that he had been with Andrew when he was shot. He sent Andrew after the man who ..." Richard still had trouble saying the words. " ... shot him and took my sister."

Abigail looked horrified. "You mean to tell me that my nephew is chasing around the French countryside after a madman?"

"I knew Andrew could not have done such a thing," Katherine said as she sat back down, blindly trusting in her brother. She looked at Richard. "Gustave is going to be fine?"

"The doctors think so."

Some of the defensiveness went out of William and he extended his hand to Richard, guiding him to a chair. "Do you know who did do this? Do you know who it is that Andrew is going after?"

"A man named Michaud Deschene."

"Oh my God," Katherine breathed, her hand reaching out for Abigail's.

"Has there been any word of your sister?" Abigail wondered.

Richard shook his head sadly. "No. We have no idea where he may have taken Annalise."

"What of my young cousin?" William wanted to know.

"There has been no word from Andrew, either, and I am sorry. We are in constant touch with the police and I wish I could tell you more. I promise that as soon as I hear anything someone will come to tell you." Richard said before turning to look at Katherine. "If you would like to come back with me, I am sure that Gustave would like to see you."

"I would like that," Katherine said. She closed her eyes. "I know that Andrew will find Annalise and bring her back. I just know it."

Richard hoped that he and his family could have as much faith in this young man as his sister did.