Chapter 58

She felt the heat of the morning sun on her face, the light that peeked through the opening of the curtains, pushing her eyes to open. She turned to the other side and stretched her arm but Christian's side was empty. Her eyes rested at his pillow. There was a piece of paper folded into half. Its sight made her sit up on the bed, feeling fully awake with her heart pumping fast straight away. Her face felt flushed. She took it, opened it.

"My darling Rose,

Forgive me for having not waited for you to wake up. You looked so peaceful, I hadn't the heart to... And perhaps I wanted to keep this image of you with me, while I will be away.

My Scarlet Rose...

I loved you and still do. But I do not have the missing piece your heart seeks. Someone else has it and I knew it even before he showed up. Don't let him go without telling him. As for me, I regret nothing and I would live those months with you again and again, even while knowing the ending.

Right now, I need to get my life back. Don't worry. I'd never break a promise given to you.

I will be careful.

With all my love

Christian"

She barely made it till the end of the letter without the words blurring by the tears that came running down her cheeks without restraint. She turned her eyes back to his pillow. She came close and hid her face at the dip where his head had rested. Breathed in his smell. Soap and tobacco. He had left and she hadn't been prepared for him to do so in such a sudden and abrupt way. Even if her heart belonged to Terry, she had also loved Christian. The realisation he had left translated into pain that spread inside her, filling her completely. She took his pillow between her arms, and rested her head on it. Like she had laid on his chest when he held her. She curled her body and stayed there sobbing for some time, till she fell asleep again.

By the time she opened her eyes, it must had been past noon. She had no will to get up but she had to. She needed to go back to her house. She found it almost impossible to stay there, surrounded by his things, his presence being everywhere she looked. Pulled the silk robe over her naked body. Her head was pounding.

They had got undressed and lied under the bed sheets with him holding her, not letting her go. He didn't want to let her go. They reminisced about the good times. Kissed tender kisses, with their fingers laced. She loved the feel of his skin against hers. How the muscles of his body flexed when he moved.

Her heart fluttered like a butterfly inside her chest. Walked towards the open window, pulled the curtains fully opened. The roads were quieter than usual, being Sunday. She went to the bathroom. She needed to throw some water on her face. The cold water felt welcome on her skin. Everything else remained heavy. Her thoughts, her heart, her movements. Just to function at the most basic level at that moment required enormous effort from her part.

And then he had turned serious.

She looked back inside his bedroom. The box with his stuff - the one she had discovered before - lay on the floor open. She approached it.

He had brought it out at some point. He thought they had the night in front of them but he had been mistaken. The faint light of the new day had started breaking the night's darkness. He wanted to tell her so many things and time was running out. "Stuff from my childhood." he had said as he opened the box. "A few others that hold importance to me."

He began telling her about his parents. Just as she had kept sketchy over her past relationship with Terry, so he had been the same over his relationship with his parents. That night he had decided to tell her. "I went to Brighton this afternoon." He had said to her while she was observing the contents of his box.

"Oh?" She had turned and stared at him in surprise.

"I was in search of this woman... Abigail Fowler. She had helped with my birth apparently. She brought me to my parents."

Christian had told her some of the facts already when they had started dating. One of the things that connected them from the start was that he hadn't known his real parents, just like her. But his story was more painful than hers. Because Christian had been sold. To the thought, she stopped over the box. Knelt down with a sigh and picked it up. It was unfathomable, but there were people who could do this. Buy and sell babies. Her mouth tensed. If only Christian had a loving family, perhaps the problems that plagued him in his life right now, wouldn't have existed.

In the deep of the night he had recalled the scandal, him finding out, and how the events came to become the unravelling of his family which ended with his mother taking her own life, overdosing with laudanum. She had brought her hand over her mouth in horror, with her cheeks wet from the tears. He had passed his thumbs over them.

"No crying sweetheart." He had said. "It doesn't solve anything, it has no use."

She had looked at him, pushed her arms around his chest and let her cheek rest on it. Hearing his heartbeats.

She closed her eyes, trying to stop more tears coming up. The pain he must had known in his life... She wished so much to have been able to help in any way. For a moment she stopped breathing. She took the box with her in the living room. Left it on the table and walked towards the kitchen to brew herself some coffee.

"This is all I got from where they took me." Christian had told her and took out the linen handkerchief.

She came back to the table and took it on her hands. Passed her fingers over the embroidered swan.

She remembered it and how there was something familiar about it which she couldn't explain. "And that woman you said?" She had asked him, while she stared at the handkerchief hanging from her fingers. The soft lamp light having made it seem transparent, her fingers showing like shadows behind it.

"Abigail Fowler?"

He had taken the handkerchief from her hands and put it back into the box, before turning to her, taking her into his arms. She had been lying on his chest, hearing his voice vibrating soft in her ear. "It's time to lay all my ghosts to rest, love." He had said. Had kissed her forehead, his fingers sliding up and down her arm as he had been talking. "I don't want any relationship with who my real parents may be." He had added. "I'm a realist, you know...I don't have illusions."

"I only want some answers, the why, the how." He had said and met with her crystal stare.

"And did you find her?"

"I found of her. Found her house. But no, not her. I left my card. I don't keep my hopes up."

She brought the coffee pot at the table and filled her cup. Once again she stared at the handkerchief while she took her first sips of coffee. She was certain she had seen this emblem elsewhere. Perhaps in a history book at St. Paul's...

She had pulled her body up on the bed, to come on the same eye level with Christian. With her eyes closed, she had kissed him, staying on his lips longer, as if she was trying to stamp the feeling of them inside her mind.

Her lips had just touched the cup, while she was fully immersed in replaying in her mind the night's conversation between them. The sudden knock at the front door made her jump on her seat, her lips coming in direct contact with the hot liquid. She screwed her eyes up, having felt the burn. She tightened the robe belt on her waist, taking care to look as modest as possible and got up. She asked of the person who was knocking and heard a woman's voice. She opened the door.

A woman, dressed rather modestly with a plain cotton summer dress and a light cardigan stood in front of her, looking at Candy. Her light blue eyes looked younger than the rest of her face marked by deep set wrinkles. Her expression was one of surprise and rather an apprehension of having been there, second thoughts passing her mind. Candy realised and immediately spoke in an effort to calm the woman down.

"Hello." She said and gave her, her warmest smile. "Please excuse my attire. Just woke up." She added, her face warming up. "Are you looking for Christian, perhaps?" She smiled again. "I am Rose White, his partner."

The woman didn't react but stood at the door, trying to find the words. It was as if she had come rehearsed but the scenario she had rehearsed for, hadn't materialised. Instead, she had to improvise and from the looks of it, she wasn't dealing well with such eventualities.

"May I help you? Would you like to come in? I have brewed some coffee just now." Candy said again, looking at her with soft eyes.

The woman nodded and took a step inside the house. She glanced at her back when Candy closed the door behind her. She sure was tense.

"Please sit." Candy told her and showed her a chair at the table where she was sitting already. "Unfortunately Christian has left to run some errands."

The woman sat down, while Candy walked to the kitchen to bring a cup. Her eyes fell on the handkerchief that lay on the sides of Christian's box. Her irises widened like huge dark discs. Trembling behind a teary surface.

"Your name?" Candy said as she opened the cupboard and picked a cup.

Silence

"Abigail Fowler." She heard the woman's voice sounding reluctant but clear.

The cup left Candy's hands and fell on the floor, smashing into pieces. She caught her breath. The woman Christian was looking for was there, holding Christian's handkerchief.

"I'm so sorry." Candy blurted. "Such a sleepy head!" She tried to laugh. Picked the pieces of the smashed porcelain from the floor as quick as she could. The woman smiled. Candy's clumsiness has put her somehow at ease.

Candy took another cup, blessing her luck that there were still some clean left in the cupboard.

"So sorry for all the mess..." She apologised again while she brought the clean cup to the table. "Christian, being a man and an artist, cleanliness doesn't come natural to him.

She saw the surprised look on Abigail's face. "Oh, not that he's not clean himself! I meant that he's rather a messy man." Candy chattered without signs of slowing down. She smiled nervously. Sat opposite Abigail and poured coffee into her cup. She jumped up. "Sugar!" She yelled. "Do you take sugar Miss Fowler?" She turned and asked her, sounding overly anxious.

The woman's eyes softened. "No, I am fine Miss White. I don't need sugar."

"Please call me Rose." Candy said as she sat down, her lips curling up once again, turning into one of those smiles of hers that won her friends and disarmed her enemies more than once in her life. She looked at ease but her mind was racing with a thousand turns a minute, wondering what Abigail Fowler came at Christian's house to say. The woman's visit also unsettled her a great deal, because she had no means of letting Christian know. Having no idea where he left to or when he would return...

She noticed the interest Abigail had shown to Christian's handkerchief. Candy took the handkerchief in her hands and folded it into a neat square.

"This is Christian's. He has it from his birth. It's very precious to him." She said and looked at the woman who was taking a sip from her coffee while her eyes had been fixed on Christian's handkerchief. Candy's slow approach to Abigail, reminded her the times she was tending accident wounds. Being methodical, cautious but most of all careful not to hurt the patient any more than it is expected. She took a sip from her coffee.

"We both never knew our parents." Candy said in the most natural way as if departing with some casual information. "Though I grew up in an orphanage." She added and looked at the woman who had been very tuned in to what Candy was saying. She took a deep breath, drawing a line on the subject.

"Did you want to see Christian for something Miss Fowler?" She asked her.

"Well...Mr. Blake came to see me actually." She replied. Her voice was soft and hesitant in its volume and confidence with which she spoke. Candy noticed her fingers being fidgety, having grabbed the end of her cardigan and rolled it between them, as it touched her lap. She lifted her eyes back to Abigail's face and gave her an innocent smile. Sipped her coffee.

"Oh! Yes!" Candy exclaimed. "He had said, he'd travel to Brighton!" She added, acting forgetful.

The woman fixed her stare firmly on Candy. Examined her face, clearly thinking of something which had dawned on her mind right then. "You're not from here, Mrs. White."

"No, you're right." Candy replied. "I'm from the States."

The woman didn't say something in response even if Candy's answer had made an impression to her, given how her body reacted, her fingers stopping suddenly moving, her feet shifting under the chair.

"Have you been to the States, Miss Fowler?" Candy asked her.

"No... I just realised you reminded of someone." She said.

"Oh?" Candy looked at her, puzzled.

"Long time ago, that was." She added. "She was also American. I helped deliver her babies."

"Her babies?" Candy asked again.

"She was blonde like you, light green eyes, very beautiful, very beautiful." Abigail said, as if having the image of that woman right in front of her right then.

"But..." She continued. Her body tensed, years of regret weighing down on her eyes. "I did something bad, really bad...I wish, wish so much to have been able to take it back." She lowered her head. Didn't move. Like an automaton which had run out of power, her head had fallen, her chin almost touching her chest. Hands clasping at her bag on her lap.

Candy looked at her perplexed. "Miss Fowler, are you ok?" She asked worried. Then, as if a surge of energy coursed through the woman's body, she opened her bag with hurried moves. Took a closed envelope out and gave it to Candy.

"You look so much like her..." She said when she handed the envelope to Candy who still hadn't a clue what exactly Abigail Fowler meant. Her attitude unnerved her. Knowing already from Christian that this woman delivered him to his parents, she tried her best to actually decipher some of her words, but it was impossible. The woman stood up.

"I am so sorry Miss. White." She said. "I really need to go."

Indeed she seemed to be in a rush, wanting to get out Christian's apartment as soon as possible. She walked towards the door with Candy scurrying behind her.

"Please tell Mr. Blake, I am so very sorry. I hope one day he forgives me. I truly do." She added.

She opened the door. "Take care Miss White." She turned and said to Candy, before pressing her lips. Sadness having descended once more inside her light blue eyes.

"You too Miss Fowler." Candy responded. She followed with her eyes the woman as she practically run down the stairs till she disappeared.

Candy came back inside Christian's home. The envelope lying closed on the table. Given who that woman was, her strange behaviour, the mystery of the handkerchief... Christian had left and she had no way to let him know for what had happened. She cursed between her teeth of the timing. She sat back at her chair. The remaining of her coffee had grown cold inside the cup. But she kept staring at the envelope. Took a deep breath and hid her face inside her hands. Let them slide within her hair. Rubbing her eyes with the end of her palms.

"Where could you be Christian?" She whispered.

She couldn't stand it any longer. Something inside her compelled her to open the envelope.

"Mr. Blake,

I hope you can forgive me for not letting you in my home at Rottingdean. Please believe me when I say that I never thought I would see you standing in front of my door. I panicked. I know what you are looking for...

Candy kept reading and her eyes kept widening like the flowers that open under the light of the sun.

Your real father wasn't there when you were born.

You also have a twin brother.

Your mother was a very beautiful woman, with long blonde hair, light green eyes, as I can recall. She had an American accent, I believe. Her name was Eleanor.

Eleanor Graham."

The letter left Candy's fingers and fell on the floor like an autumn leaf. Her heart left her body and she remained completely frozen like a wax doll.

Right then, a long ago memory flashed in her mind. Just like one of those lightnings that particular day.

A summer storm up in Scotland.

It was the day of the "White Party" of her cousin Eliza. She had the hots for Terry big time. And hated Candy equally so. She hadn't been invited to the party. Only Terry had. All dressed in white, riding his mare, a beautiful horse, its white coat gleamed under the summer sun. They were galloping through the trees and he looked like one of the knights of Arthur's Round Table. He had stopped when he saw her. The question in his eyes had materialised quickly into a question on his lips.

"Why aren't you dressed?"

Candy had smiled. "But I'm dressed."

"For the party I mean..." He had corrected himself.

"Oh... well, Eliza doesn't want me there." She had replied sounding deflated.

He had jumped down from his horse. They had started walking. Talking.

"I'm not going either then." He had announced.

"No, no, no!" She had protested. "You have to go Terry. You don't know Eliza's temper!"

"Well she doesn't know mine! And when I said I'm not going, I'm not going!" His face had turned serious. He wasn't going to argue. "Besides, I had accepted the invite, only to see you. And since you're not going, then there is no reason for me to go either."

Their relationship had been pleasantly platonic. Friends and such. Good friends. Friends that couldn't stop thinking of each other. Throwing teases and brooding stares to each other. That kind of friends. Her heart had galloped like his horse had done a little while ago when she heard her "friend's" words and her face turned red like a tulip.

Scotland suited Terry's personality down to a tee. Just as it had been sunshine a minute ago, dark clouds had started piling up, crowding the sky, turning its summer blue into a ominous grey which kept darkening with more storm clouds stopping over their heads. Deep into their "friendly" chattering, they hadn't realised. Up till a moment of silence had sprung between them, and they realised that the birds had turned quiet. The temperature had dipped and the sound of the wind rushing through the tree foliage reverberated throughout the forest.

It was as if night had descendent. A flash of light and a rumbling gave the signal for the first fat drops of rain to start falling on the trees. A noise which exponentially grew by the second. He had jumped on the horse and gave her his hand.

"We'll be soaked to the bone. Quick!"

She had given him her hand and he had pulled her with ease on his horse. With her between his arms, his hands had held the reins, ordering the horse to a rapid galloping. The trees had become a blur around them and she had her eyes closed, feeling her breath coming out hot, while the rain lashed on their faces. The warmth from his chest radiated on her, she felt the muscles of his chest flexing under the white shirt which had become almost transparent.

They had reached the Grandchester estate in the midst of a raging downpour. They had run, laughing all along, adrenaline rush spiking inside them.

The moment they had come in, the silence made them stop. Breathless, they looked at each other. The light that had been snuffed by the storm was locked inside their eyes.

"Come." He had said, taking her hand inside his once more. They had rushed up the stairs, leaving a wet trail behind them. Despite having been still early in the evening, the long Gallery corridor loomed dark and frightening. Candy may have been used to walk inside the Lakewood mansion but inside the Grandchester manor, time felt like it stood still for centuries. The sudden flashes of lightnings - she remembered - were brightening up the faces of Terry's ancestors, all looking stern and imposing whereas all the women emitted serious ladylike vibes. His grip around her cold hand had tightened. She could have very well been inside a ghost story with the knights standing at the sides with their full body armours.

A lightning brighter than the others had lit up the entire corridor. It was close. So close, it was followed immediately by the deafening sound of the sky opening apart. Last thing she remembered seeing before jumping inside Terry's arms was the crowned swan with its wings ready to fly forged on the shields of the knights. Somehow, she thought like she saw a mythological monster. Terry had laughed his head off. He also had joked that she had better stay in his arms...God knows what else could spring up on her...

The emblem of the Grandchester family ...

That's what he had told her it was, once her heart had calmed down and begun to see it everywhere. She hadn't noticed before.

She hadn't remembered before...

She felt dizzy. Nauseous even. The colour from her face having completely washed out. She realised she was shaking.

No, no, no, it can't be...

And yet, it could, and it had happened. Twenty seven years ago. At the Old Vicarage, in Grantchester. Terry and Christian...twin brothers.

Christian reached Mayfair. He slowed down the speed of his bike, looking at the street names. He had left his flat quite early without waking Rose up. He hadn't the heart to do so. He also didn't want to say goodbye. The night had been emotional enough. He hadn't slept much. Just enough to get some shut-eye, to empty his mind, a task that was almost impossible with everything that had transpired at Audrey's party.

Rose had fallen asleep on his chest and he had kept stroking her shoulder with the tips of his fingers.

He could have taken her with him; ride the motorbike and disappear into the sunset. A great plan for a novel but not for the reality they had found themselves couldn't run, even if he wished so hard to have been able to do it. He had to deal with his mess. He didn't want to live his life by looking over his shoulder his every single waking minute.

"I have heard things about you Christian." She had said softly before.

His stare had darkened. "I feared you might."

"Hear me out." She had stopped him. "You are a wonderful man, Christian."

"A good man."

"A great artist."

"And you deserve better."

"I hope you know that..."

"I want you to know that!"

She became fired up and she kept his face between her hands.

"And I want you to promise me..."

Had paused to compose herself.

He wasn't a hero. Never considered himself one, even when he burgled those mansions with the mind of giving everything to the poor. In fact he had been stupid. Very much so. Only a trickle had been reaching those he wanted to help. And he feared for what was to come. He had tried to keep Rose's tears at bay by asking her to not cry.

"I know that whatever problems you may have, you'll try to solve. And I know you don't want my help." Her voice had cracked under the weight of the worry that was welling up inside her like the tide.

"Please, please, please be careful."

When he heard her plea, his stare had dived inside hers and wasn't letting go. He pulled her close to him, wrapped his arms around her. "I will." He had whispered.

"About that trip..." His voice had quietened down. Tried to sound calm, relaxed. "I haven't cancelled them. Mrs. Burns at the isle of Barra is waiting for us on Thursday noon."

She hadn't responded.

"If you feel you need some alone time...get away from it all..." He had whispered.

He wanted her to go away. He hoped she would pick the chance.

11-12 North Audley Street

He stopped. That was the address. He got off his motorbike. This being an unplanned visit, he hoped he wasn't to leave empty-handed. He rung the bell.

Archie had woken up from quite early on, on that Sunday morning. He hadn't been on the best of moods, it had to be said. He was still processing everything that had happened while he had been away.

Not only that, but something had transpired the previous night, at the party which had enraged Terry. What had been shocking for Archie was the ease with which he had been able to read Terry when he appeared. Usually being like a sphinx, Archie tried to second guess him at best, but that moment at the party, when he showed up, it was clear as a day that something had shook him to his core. His repeated "I'm fine" statements did nothing to appease Archie's worry.

Archie had been certain, hand to heart that whatever that event was, had to do with Candy. And Christian at that matter, since Terry had mentioned that she had been with him. Had they fought? It wouldn't have surprised him. However, when Candy and Christian showed up, they looked as if nothing much had happened. Granted, his cousin sounded obviously disappointed that Terry had left with Marion...

God! Marion! The way Terry had dragged her with him, cutting her grant night short all of sudden! Marion had been a sassy girl, able to handle herself. Why did Archie worry about her also? Dread. That's what was eating him since he had returned to that huge empty house. Despite the tiredness, he couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned and wished it hadn't been so bloody late at night so he could phone Isabel. It was only a couple of days he had been away from her, and he missed her like mad. His body ached to her thought, him being away.

"Go back to fucking Paris."? That's what Terry had said to him. In the cold daylight, Terry's angry words sounded quite wise. What was he doing there? It wasn't as if he could fix anything. He had given it its best shot. Sometimes the wisest thing to do it to admit defeat and move on.

Still in his robe, having just brewed some coffee, he heard the door bell. He should hire some staff for the house. It was a bit ridiculous, living in this huge, luxurious townhouse and having to walk all the way downstairs, to open the door. But that's what he did. The moment he did open that door, his surprise was such, he stayed there staring at Christian, as if he had dropped straight from the sky.

"Won't you ask me to come in?" Christian asked him.

"Give me one reason why." Archie replied without any attempt of courtesy, even a fake one.

"Candy."

His cousin name coming from Christian's lips, added one more layer of surprise, even more profound that the first. Without making his surprise vocal, he stepped on the side, letting Christian come in his home.

Christian turned to see him, upon the sound of the door closing. Archie stood there in the hallway, not making a step further. He could see that Candy's cousin was to only let the absolute minimum of interaction between them. He pressed his lips.

"Go on then." Archie said, getting straight to the point. "What about her?"

"The detective report." Christian said with an equally cut off tone in his voice. He had never warmed up to Archie and hell, he wasn't going to change that now, either.

"Hah! Trust the crook to use straight talk." Archie commented, with a smile which didn't have anything friendly inside.

"God! Archie, is your life that boring?" Christian answered back to him, raising a mocking eyebrow.

"Excuse me?!" Archie raised his voice.

He didn't need a lot from Christian, to make his jaw tense and his eyes sparkle with anger and disapproval. Honestly, he questioned Candy's infatuation with him. It was easy for Archie to know - the person who came first in Christian's mind was Christian himself. He hadn't cared for his cousin. It was just his ego that kept him latched at her. If he really had cared, not only he would had stopped all his ties with the criminal world but he would also stop two timing Candy with that mobster gal. What was her name? Alice Diamond, the detective had said.

"Watch your tongue Christian! I can call the police right here and now." He threatened him.

Christian lowered his stare, his eyebrows having descendent like black clouds over a grey sky. He started approaching Archie. He really needed that report but the months of Archie's sour disapproval over him had kept grating on his nerves and up till now he had kept his cool only for Rose's sake. His tongue itched.

The hell with the report

"Look at you..." He said as he was getting nearer, the disdain crystal clear in his voice. "The Yankee who travelled all the way here to avoid his missus, got a mistress and then enlisted the son of a Duke to play detectives...given the latter would do anything to get into my girl's knickers."

So immediate was the reaction of Archie's against Christian's insults, his tight fist flew in the air, covering the remaining distance between them and landed on Christian's face in a punishing punch that threw him on the floor on the spot.

Christian took a few seconds to get his head around. He licked his lips and felt the familiar metallic taste on them. Passed his fingers over them and threw a glance. Archie had given him a bloody lip. He put his arm down on the floor to support his weight and got up.

"Get out." Archie's voice came out forced and guttural.

"Not before I have that report." Christian insisted while wiping the blood of his lips.

He had to give it to Archie though. He threw a good punch. Given his groomed appearance every time he saw him, he thought the man didn't have it in him, but he did. "If you want me for good out of your lives, including Candy's."

"I can lock you in prison just the same." Archie said, rubbing his knuckles. A feverish gleam brightened his blue eyes.

"Only if you want her to hate you for the rest of your life." Christian argued straight away. " Given your love life, I'm suspecting you'll need all the allies you need when you ask for that divorce."

That last sentence from him felt like a big hurdle having fallen on Archie's race to put Christian behind bars. It made him stop, even if momentarily. What Christian had said, wasn't just something to dismiss. Candy would indeed hate him and not only that but given his intention to ask for a divorce from Annie, Candy's support over his decision would have been crucial for him.

"And how do I know, once I've given you this report, that you'll disappear?" Archie asked back.

"Ask Candy when you see her tonight."

Christian's face expression changed ever so slightly but it hit Archie like an avalanche almost. How is it on a day that the weather is fine but the air carries that haziness and despite you can't call it fog-like, it is still not crystal clear...That how Archie perceived the sadness he recognised washing over Christian's characteristics, in his eyes, brows, the way his lips tightened, the slight twitch of his jaw muscles. And that realisation of Christian actually having broken up with Candy already, that was the avalanche. He definitely hadn't seen that coming, not even from a mile. The two men stayed with their eyes fixed to one another for a moment, before Archie broke the connection.

"Come with me." Archie said, sounding quieter than before.

Christian followed Archie inside his home, past the grant hallway, through the living room, for him to open a door to his study. As with everything else in the house, its art deco style was sublime, felt very modern and elegant at the same time. Somehow, Christian didn't expect anything else for Archie's surroundings. He glanced around, quietly impressed.

Archie glanced at him. He took his handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to him.

"Here." He said.

Christian thanked him and dabbed with his his bleeding cut lip. Archie didn't say anything but opened a drawer and took a folder out. He walked towards him and stretched his hand holding the folder towards Christian.

"Can you answer one question that been puzzling me since I read the report?"

He heard the audible sound of Christian taking a breath in and letting it out as he nodded, accepting the question to be.

"Since you love my cousin, Candy - I'd like to know how you figured out her real name but that's another story - as you say, what were you doing hanging out and kissing out in the open the likes of Alice Diamond?"

"Who I may add is also one of the prime suspects for the robbery of Lord Wooster's mansion..." He added as he finished his question.

"I'll answer with a possibly similar situation you may understand, Archie." He said and shot him a stare that pushed his brows up, wrinkling his otherwise smooth forehead. Archie was all ears.

"It's clear you're very miserable with your life back home. Mainly with your wife." He begun saying and saw Archie tensing, knowing well this was a subject he wasn't comfortable discussing with the likes of him. "Hear me out, will you?" He added, before continuing with his answer. "You want out yes?"

He didn't wait for Archie to reply that, he wasn't expecting him to do so. He walked around the room. "And yet, you didn't think about it, till you met Isabel." He turned and looked at Archie once again, now more interested to see where he'd conclude his train of thought.

"But still, while with your wife, is it safe to say, you put up a front of a happily married man?"

"That's what my dealings with Alice are too. And yes, since you're generous enough to give me that report, I did lead a double life which I can even say I actually enjoyed, up till I met Rose... and no, the part with the mob wasn't my choice."

The last part of Christian's reply to Archie's question, he said while having his eyes rest squared on Archie's face. There was an intensity in Christie's stare, Archie found very familiar. So much so, the hairs at the back of his arm raised. He could swear he saw Terry inside them. His grip on the report loosened up.

"What will you do with it?" He asked him as he took it from his hand. Christian seemed as if considering an answer and then he raised his brow.

"I think you spent your quota of questions, Cornwell." He replied with a wicked smile.

They both walked back towards the main door. "Shame we won't see each other again." Christian said as he was followed by Archie. "We could have ended up as friends."

"I wouldn't count on it." Archie said back, repaying Christian's wisecrack tongue earlier on.

They reached the door. When Christian turned to see Archie once more, that same sad haziness had returned on Christian's face. It was something Archie couldn't explain but he felt his heart tighten in his chest.

"Keep an eye on Rose." Christian said, his voice having deepened.

"I will."

Christian stepped out on the pavement. He put the folder on the messenger's bag that was hanging by the sides of his motorbike. Zipped his leather jacket up and strode the motorbike saddle. "I bid you well, Archie." He raised his voice to be heard over the crackling sounds of the engine. He shifted the gear with his left foot and rolled on the throttle, the engine sounding guttural and he left, leaving Archie behind.

The relief he thought he would feel in abundance when he imagined taking Christian out of their lives, strangely didn't come. Instead there was an emptiness as if Christian's sadness had infected him in a way. Annoyed by his feelings, he came in the house and went straight to the phone, longing to hear her voice.

"I missed you my love." He said over the receiver and a warm smile spread on his troubled face.