Chapter Summary: Andrew and Annalise are welcomed home by their families. Raoul and Christine begin to discover what was done to their child.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
"Is she all right?"
"Let me see her."
"Can I give her hug?"
Raoul and Christine were reluctant to release Annalise from their protective embrace. So intent were they on comforting the sobbing girl held like a small child in Raoul's arms that they barely heard the words coming from their sons; but Annalise heard the voices. New voices, new sensations, it was all too much for Annalise's battered psyche to process. Raoul felt his daughter's fingers pull at the back of his shirt.
"Please do not let him take me," Annalise begged. "Please, Papa. I promise to be a good girl."
"No one is ever going to take you away again," Raoul told his daughter as his eyes sought out Christine.
Christine stroked her daughter's head. "Oh, my little babe," she said softly and smiled as Annalise turned to look at her. "You are safe. There is no one here who will hurt you."
"I am so sorry. I will not disobey you again. Please do not send me away."
"Listen to me," Christine said as she cupped her daughter's face in both hands. "You have done nothing wrong. We love you." Christine felt the head in her hands begin to shake and leaned in to rest her forehead against her daughter's. "I love you. You are my little girl and I love you." Christine turned her attention to the sons and wives who waited impatiently within arm's reach. "Gustave," she motioned for him.
Gustave nodded at Richard. "I will be fine. I can do this on my own." Gustave took the few steps to his sister, letting his mother wrap her arm about his waist for support.
Annalise reached out a tentative hand to her brother and pulled it back, burying her head in her father's chest. "No," she whispered. "No. Not real. He said he killed him."
Raoul bit back the fury he felt and concentrated on the relief that surged through his veins instead. "Gustave is alive." Raoul stroked his daughter's arm. "He is right here."
"Annalise, please," Gustave said as he reached for his sister.
Annalise raised her head to look at her father. "Real?" she asked and as Raoul nodded to her, Annalise turned to look at her brother. "You are real," she breathed and leaned her head against Gustave's as he hugged her gently.
Gustave drew back, allowing Jean-Paul, Richard and their wives to hug Annalise.
Finally the determined mother in Christine took over. "We have to get her upstairs, Raoul," she said and turned to look at Therese and Leonie. "I will need your help."
Raoul turned to follow his wife into the house and gave a quick look at his sons. "Doctor, police, ambassador," he told them, trusting that they would know what to do. Raoul tightened his grip on his daughter and disappeared quickly into the house.
Jean-Paul turned to the stunned and silent footman who waited by the door. "Go to the stables," he began. "You must send three riders; one to summon Doctor Nesselien; one to the ambassador's residence to appraise them of what has occurred and one to Inspector Berube asking him to come now. When you return bring someone with you to take care of the chaise and the horses."
The footman nodded and went off towards the stables.
While his brother had been handling the instructions left by their father, Richard had moved to the chaise. He took the reins from Regine and tied them to a hitching post by the portico stairs before returning. "Thank you," he told Regine.
"I was glad to do it," Regine replied, "but I believe more of the credit belongs to Monsieur Cameron."
"Andrew," Andrew corrected him. "After all we have been through, it is just Andrew." Andrew tried to move forward on the seat and let out a small yelp of pain. He had not realized how stiff he had become.
"Oh my god," Katherine exclaimed as she bit her bottom lip. "Are you all right?"
Andrew breathed through his nose for minute, his eyes closed. "Do you remember the fall I took from Barton?"
"Oh no," Katherine despaired. "Not again."
Richard watched as Andrew nodded his head. "What not again?" he wondered.
Katherine looked across the chaise at Richard. "He has dislocated his shoulder." She raised concerned eyes to her brother.
"It's in, Kitt, it's in," Andrew assured her. "I had a fall down some stairs and I think my ribs might be bruised, though." Now that Annalise was safely in the hands of her parents, Andrew began to allow himself to feel again and all he could feel at the moment was pain. "Everything hurts," he said through clenched teeth.
Katherine felt a hand on her shoulder and looked to see Jean-Paul standing there.
"Let me help him, Katherine," Jean-Paul said.
Katherine stepped back and went to stand next to Gustave, giving him a small smile as he gently stroked her arm.
Jean-Paul looked at Andrew. "Can you get to your feet?" he asked.
"I do not think so," Andrew replied. "Everything is so stiff."
"Then give me your hands," Jean-Paul ordered and looked at Regine. "Can you steady his back?" Regine nodded at the young man. "Right, then. Andrew, on the count of three we shall go, yes?" Jean-Paul saw Andrew nod his assent. "One. Two. Three."
Jean-Paul gently pulled on Andrew's hands as Regine gave a slight push on his back and Andrew was on his feet. "Oh God," Andrew cried out the pain evident in his tone of voice. "Sorry," he said as his breathing evened out. "I think I can manage now."
"You have nothing for which to apologize," Jean-Paul told him, "and let me help you down the chaise steps. Then we will go inside and get you a brandy; it will help to ease the pain."
"One for you as well," Richard told Regine as the older man got down from the chaise.
"I do not belong ..." Regine started.
"I think my father would insist," Richard interrupted him. "I know that I am going to insist."
"As am I," Jean-Paul assured him as he helped Andrew negotiate the last step of the chaise. "You have helped to bring our sister home." He turned his attention to Andrew. "How did you know of Regine?"
"I will tell you everything, I promise," Andrew heard himself say knowing that there would be a part of it that he would never be able to share. Andrew looked at Regine, saw the incline of the other man's head and knew that he would not say anything, either. Andrew was drawn out of his reverie by his sister's voice.
"I know you are hurting but can I please hug you?" Katherine was asking.
"Oh, Kitt," Andrew said and felt his sister's arms go gently about him, her head on his shoulder, her tears wetting his shirt. There was such a sense of security and relief and love in Katherine's embrace that Andrew was reluctant to let her go. Since that awful moment seven days ago when his world had begun to fall apart, Andrew was starting to believe that just maybe it would be possible to put the pieces back together. "I will be fine," Andrew assured his sister as he kissed her.
Katherine drew back and gave her brother a trembling smile. "I know. I know. It is just that you did not come back and I got so scared ..."
"It will be all right, Kitt," Andrew interrupted her before the tears could start again. He turned his attention to Gustave. "Thank God you are alive," he sighed in relief. "You are going to be fine, yes?"
"I am getting better," Gustave assured him. "Now that Annalise and you are back, I will get better that much more quickly."
"Come," Richard said, "we need to get you both in the house and comfortable."
As Richard and Jean-Paul guided the others into the house and towards the main parlor, upstairs Christine was opening the door to her daughter's bedroom allowing Raoul to enter. Raoul walked over to the bed and tried to place Annalise down.
"Please do not let me go," Annalise cried as she clung to her father.
"What did he do to you?" Christine said to herself, her words mirroring her husband's thoughts.
"Did you need me, madam?"
Christine saw Rachel, her daughter's maid at her side. "Rachel, quickly, hot water for the bath and a pot of tea."
"Oui, madame," Rachel answered. "I am so very glad Mademoiselle is home."
Christine nodded, not trusting her voice, watching as Rachel moved quickly down the hall. She turned her attention back to the bedroom and saw Raoul sitting on the edge of the bed, Annalise still in his arms. Christine walked over to the dresser, picked up the rag doll that she and Raoul had reminisced over and went to sit next to her husband and daughter.
"Annalise," Christine said and smiled as her daughter looked at her. "You are home. This is your bedroom. There is no one here to hurt you."
"He said you did not want me," Annalise whispered through her tears.
"We will always want you," Raoul told his daughter. "We have wanted you since before you were even born. You are our child. You are the final piece of our family." Raoul lowered his voice. "You are my little girl and there is nothing in this world that would ever stop me loving you."
"Listen to your father," Christine told Annalise. "There is nothing that will ever stop us from loving you."
"Promise?"
"Oh my baby," Christine said as Raoul kissed his daughter on the top of her head, "with all my heart." Christine held out the doll. "Why do you not hold onto Eloise and let your father put you down."
Annalise released her grip around her father's neck, reaching out for the doll her mother held. She took it in her hands, looking at it curiously before holding it to her chest, her eyes closing. "Home," Annalise said.
"Raoul," Christine said, placing a hand on his arm and getting his attention. "You need to leave."
"What?" Raoul was slightly stunned. "Why?" he wondered.
"I need to get her out of that thing and get her comfortable. Please?" Christine asked. "I will send for you as soon as she is ready." Christine laid a hand on her husband's arm. "Then you can stay as long as you wish."
Raoul closed his eyes and nodded. He was fine with letting his daughter out of his arms but to walk away and leave her - when she had just come home - terrified him. Part of him knew it was a silly fear, that Annalise was safe with her mother; but the largest part of him could not get past the thought that if he looked away, Annalise would disappear again. Raoul did not think he would be able to maintain any sense of dignity or self-control if his little girl were to slip through his grasp again.
"Please, Raoul," he heard his wife try again.
"Be fine," a whispery voice said as Raoul felt a hand on his cheek.
"I know, I know," Raoul told Annalise as he opened his eyes and looked at her. The bruises on her face and throat, the tears on her cheeks broke his heart. All Raoul wanted to do was to make everything go away for his little girl and he knew he could not do so. The best he could do at the moment was to leave her care to the only person in the world who had never failed him. Raoul gently lifted his daughter from his lap and placed her on the bed. He stood, bent over and kissed her. "I will be back in a few moments." Raoul gave a happy sigh as Annalise nodded and managed a small smile. "I love you," he told her before straightening up, turning to Christine and wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I love you, too."
Christine nodded. "I will send someone for you." She watched as he walked out the door, giving one last glance backwards before closing the door behind him. Christine drew a deep breath, there was finally something useful she could do. "Leonie, can you prepare the bath? I do not want anyone walking through this room." Christine saw her daughter-in-law disappear through the double doors on the right side of the room. "Therese, in the middle drawer of the wardrobe you should find a new chemise." Orders having been given, Christine sat on the bed next to her daughter who was intent on caressing the old doll in her hands. "Mon peu de sprite," she began and sighed inwardly as Annalise turned to look at her, the use of her childhood nickname bringing a bit of life into Annalise's eyes. "Oh, it so good to have you back with us again; you were missed so very much."
"Really?" Annalise wondered.
"More than you will ever know," her mother replied. Christine placed gentle hands on her daughter's arms. "I would like to get you out of this thing you are wearing ..." Christine could not finish her sentence as Annalise pulled away from her and scooted across the bed.
"No!" Annalise tried screaming and broke into a coughing fit. She looked warily at her mother as the coughing stopped. "He will hurt me. You will hit me. I promise I can make it work. I will be good. Just do not hurt me. Please do not hit me!" Annalise raised her doll to her face in an attempt to hide.
The terror and confusion on her daughter's face and her frantic actions shattered Christine in depths of her being that she did not even know existed. "It is all right, Annalise," Christine said as she got off the bed and cautiously walked around to where Annalise was trying to curl into a little ball. "I will not make you do anything that you do not want to do." Christine reached out to brush the hair away from her daughter's face. "It is Maman and you know that I would never ever hurt you."
Annalise looked up at the woman bent over her, her bottom lip between her teeth. "Maman?" she wondered.
"Yes," Christine replied with a smile, as she concentrated on her daughter's needs, unaware of the other two people moving about the room. "Maman. You are home and safe and no one will ever hurt you again."
Her frantic breathing slowed and Annalise started to uncurl her body. "Real," she breathed. "I am home. I am home."
"This is real," Christine assured her daughter, "and you are home." She helped Annalise into a sitting position. "Would like to have a hot bath and go to bed?"
"Alone?" Annalise asked.
Oh, my sweet child! What did he do to you? Christine thought yet again but gave her daughter a small smile. "Yes," she told Annalise, "it will be just you and me. It shall be like when you were small and would play all day in the bath if I had let you do so."
Annalise nodded. "Yes. Just you and me."
Christine helped her daughter stand, placing a protective, supportive arm about her waist. She looked at Leonie and Therese who stood nearby, the tears on their faces matching her own. "Can you prepare in here?"
"Of course," Therese assured her.
Christine finally heard a soft knock at the door as she walked her daughter into the bath; she heard Leonie's voice as she close the door, "Place it on the bed table, Rachel."
"Just the two of us," Christine smiled at her daughter as they stood in the sunny room, the scent of lavender filling the air.
"It smells pretty," Annalise whispered.
"Only the best for my little girl," Christine told her as she guided Annalise over to the tub. She watched her daughter's face as Annalise eyed the water with apprehension. "Cherie, if you do not wish to do this, we do not have to do so."
Annalise bent over and placed a hand into the warm water, swishing it about. She stood and looked at her mother. "Feels nice," she said and lowered her eyes. "You will not yell at me."
"I am not going to yell at you, I promise." Christine placed a hand under her daughter's chin, lifting her head so she could look at her. "There is nothing - nothing! - that would ever make me angry with you or make me raise my voice to you or stop me from loving you."
Annalise reached out and placed her doll on a nearby sideboard; she held her hands out to her mother. "Help me, please."
Christine reached out and slowly lifted the soiled gown from her daughter's body. "Oh my baby," she cried as she saw the bruises the speckled her daughter's flesh, the ribs that rippled outwards from a painfully thin body.
"I tried to be good," Annalise said as she broke into tears.
Christine gathered her daughter into her arms. "You are good," she whispered over and over as Annalise sobbed on her shoulder. Christine gently rubbed her daughter's back as Annalise choked and coughed. She finally felt her daughter's sobs slow and quiet into silent tears. "Come along, Annalise; let us wash away some of the sorrow."
Annalise allowed her mother to keep her hand as she carefully stepped into the warm, scented water of the bath; she gave a small cry as the water hit the cuts and bruises about her ankles. Christine kept a steady arm about her daughter's waist, waiting for a sign that Annalise wished to stop. It did not come and Annalise let Christine lower her so that she sat in the tub. She gave a small sigh as the clean water rippled around her, warming aching muscles.
Christine knelt by the side of the tub, just as she had done when Annalise was a small child. "I am going to try and clean your hair. You just sit still and let me do everything."
It took twenty minutes of gentle washing and combing before the tangled rat's nest that had become Annalise's hair was brought under control. Christine ran the comb through it one last time as it hung wetly down her daughter's back. She placed the comb on the floor next to the pile of hair that had come away from Annalise's head. Christine picked up the cloth that hung over the edge of the tub and began to gently clean her daughter. She was careful of the bruises but could not help the pain the warm water caused when it hit the cuts and rope burns around Annalise's wrists.
"I asked him to take them off," Annalise said. "I asked him to stop."
Christine placed a kiss on her daughter's head. "It is all right. You did nothing wrong." Christine could feel an anger she never knew build within her - what had that man done to her child? She bit the anger back as she placed the cloth back over the edge of the tub. "I am going to stand and help you out now, yes? You let me do everything."
Annalise looked up at her mother and held out her hands. "Yes."
Christine helped Annalise up and held tight as she climbed out of the tub. Christine moved quickly to wrap her daughter in a large towel. She moved it gently up and down Annalise as she dried wet skin. "I do not think your hair will dry quite so easily," Christine said with a smile and was rewarded with a little smile in return. She reached to the sideboard where the doll rested on a folded blue chemise. Christine lifted the doll from the gown. "Arms, please," she told Annalise and slipped the gown easily over her daughter's head and handed her the doll.
"Thank you," Annalise said as Christine gathered her into her arms.
"You are very welcome," her mother replied and slipped an arm about her waist. "I think it is time to get you some tea and then to bed." She rested a hand against her daughter's wet head. "And try to dry some of that hair."