Chapter 18

Perched on the window's wide sill, Kathleena listened halfheartedly to the sprightly music wafting up from the saloon. As the carriages rolled by on the gas lit street below, she started at the sound of a rap on her door. The instant someone knocked she expected Barnabas or - The Frenchwoman clutched the amulet tenaciously as it hung about her throat. No! Don't think about that! They can't find you! With baited breath she waited, sighing in relief as two fast thumps followed. A flamboyant but elegant red haired woman stuck her head in. Gwendolyn Corson frowned at the sight of Kathleena resting her head on her knees and staring sadly up at her, so besieged with sorrow.

"Yer supper's gettin' cold, honey." At the shake of the young girl's head, she sighed sweeping into the room. "Sweetie, ye gotta eat somethin'." Unable to help herself, the madame of the exclusive gentleman's salon walked up and sat beside her, throwing an arm over her shoulder. "What's wrong, Kathy? Tell me." Since the moment they'd met, Gwen felt an inexplicable protectiveness for the wee lassie. When Kathleena secretly shared the atrocious tale of her unwanted fiancé, she decided then and there, never to divulge the fact that the girl was renting a room. She'd even gone so far as to swear her women to secrecy, threatening immediate dismissal without fail should they utter one word against their secret boarder.

Kathleena grazed a hand across her cheek, brushing away a fat tear. She turned with piteous eyes. "How can I go on? Why is fate forever against me? Haven't I suffered enough?" As she spoke her hands slid to her abdomen, to the barely discernible bulge.

Gwen frowned at the girl's dilemma. " 'oney, wot's done can't be undone unless ye wanta undo it." Lowering her voice, she confided, "Sometimes me girls get inta "trouble." I know someone who-" As a look of absolute shock and disgust flitted across Kathleena's features at the clear meaning of her horrific words, the madame fell silent. "The wee one's da, who I'm guessin' is this Collins ye've talked about, 'e doesn't want 'is child?"

Looking away she whispered sadly, "He doesn't know."

"Kathy!"

"Gwen it isn't as though I purposely kept the truth from him. I truly hadn't suspected before I left. The possibility never entered my mind." Damn that conductor! How could he possibly know? Even when she'd missed her monthly flow, Kathleena had simply assumed it was due to the stress of having to leave Barnabas so reluctantly when all she longed to do was remain in his arms forever. However, when she missed her menses a second time accompanied with a bout of unexplained nausea, she forced herself to consult a physician who confirmed her condition. In five months' time, she would give birth to Barnabas' child. Her head swam with such an overwhelming thought.

"Just look at ye. Yer miserable without 'im. Ye've been mopin' an' dopin' about fer months now. Send 'im a telegram, luv. 'e'll come'n take ye away an' marry ye. Trust 'im ta protect ye from that lousy murderin' bastard."

Choking back a sob, she shook her head. "No! I couldn't possibly do that. Barnabas deserves someone better than I. Someone...free. Believe me, Gwen. The course I have chosen is for the best." Kathleena shuddered inwardly at her heartbreak. She felt so completely helpless, so utterly alone. And yet, the hardest blow was still to come - the moment she would lose her babe when Duncan found her. Dear Lord, how would she bear it? Heaven help her should that monster find her before she gave birth! At the gentle touch of a hand on her shoulder, she startled, gratefully drawn from such a depressing reverie.

"I think yer wrong Kathy, but tis yer choice." Glancing at the mantle clock, the madam sighed. "Look, 'tis nearly 'alf past seven. Maybe yer not 'ungry but I'm sure that wee one is. There's still plenty o' time 'til the place opens. Come an' dine with us."

"No Gwen, please. I - I can't."

"Then I'm sendin' up Ronnie wit a tray an' ye will eat, even if I 'aveta come up an' feed ye meself."

Kathleena looked at the tall redhead. Despite the woman's choice of profession, she held Gwen in high regard. A kindhearted and caring woman not only to her, but also to the girls who worked for her, she was a true, if not odd choice for a mother figure. But then, would Marie have been a better choice had she lived? She nodded with a slight smile, no doubt in her mind that the woman wouldn't make good on her threat. "I'll eat. I swear."

"Good. Thank ye." Gwen replied with a smile and left.

Walking to the mirror Kathleena stared at her reflection for more moments then she could count. Finally, she covered her face and fell across the bed, sobbing in complete desperation.

Entering the stables Barnabas spotted the groom near the tack room and asked where the city's brothels could be found. With a knowing smirk the man nodded. "Well, there be two, gov. Th' best, by far, be Madame Gwen's. 'Tis across from th' saloon." Lifting his dung shovel, he gestured to the huge building at the end of the street. " 'Er girls be th' cleanest an' th' purtiest." A wistful look crossed the man's face as he remembered his own pleasure found in Veronica's loving arms. A sweet young thing. Clearing his throat, he continued, "Th' other one be near th' docks." Barnabas noticed the man's nose wrinkle disgustedly. "Wouldn't try that place unless yer lookin' ta git th' pox." He shuddered at the very thought.

Flipping him a coin in thanks Barnabas mounted Dalmiir, turning him in the direction of the blaring piano music. As the horse's hooves clip-clopped against the cobblestone, he stared up at the building directly across. This bordello was unique as it was housed in a surprisingly diffident structure. No large terraces to extend over the avenue for barely clad whores to hawk their services to desperate men below. It didn't seem to attract much attention and was surprisingly quiet. Kathleena is here, she must be! Tethering his stallion to the hitching post, he slipped through the swinging doors.

A small young blonde, scarcely attired was in the large bar room overturning chairs from the tables. Immediately she turned at the unexpected visitor, a look of avid appreciation quickly slid across her heavily decorated face. Never had she seen a man dressed so fine. Her eyes focused hungrily upon the onyx ring adorning his forefinger and the silver wolf headed cane he was continuously clenching and unclenching in the palm of his large hand. He was a prosperous gent, for a fact. Ambling over to him, she pasted a well-practiced smile of seduction on her garish red lips. "I'm sorry sir. We're not yet open for business. It's much too early." Placing a small hand on the sleeve of his cloak, Veronica was somewhat surprised. Despite his haggard appearance, the man's arm was strong and firm under the expensive fabric. Her voice was low and seductive despite her tender years. "Come back at nine and I'll personally see to all of your needs," she purred.

Irritated with her blatant invitation, Barnabas sneered in disgust but held his poise. He couldn't afford to alienate; he had to find her. "Actually, I am looking for a specific woman. Kathleena Tell."

"Kathleena…Tell?" she repeated haltingly. Inside, the whore panicked. Madame Gwen warned everyone if they spoke of their secret resident they would be out of a job. New to this profession, Veronica'd be damned if she found herself working at Shirl's on the waterfront. She wasn't about to service seamen who'd most assuredly give her the clap. Removing her hand from him, she stepped away, failing to avoid his burning stare. "I'm sorry sir, but I've never heard that name before."

Sharp, thick brows gathered together above eyes as dark as a thunderstorm. Barnabas growled low in his throat. The barely noticeable quiver to her voice, the averted gaze told him that she was lying and doing a rather poor job of it. Lowering a chair to the floor he sat, resting his hands on the wolf's head walking stick he carried, pinning her with an uncomfortable glare. Shrugging indifferently the girl returned to her duties determined to snub the handsome gent. As she placed the chairs around the tables however, she found him impossible to ignore. His piercing eyes followed her closely, scrutinizing every move. Though Gwen was close by, Veronica suddenly felt very afraid and completely deserted. The vampire stood threateningly and the whore couldn't take another moment. The madam will know what to do. He watched as she darted past the bar and entered a door marked PRIVATE, an amused smirk sliding across his gaunt features.

In moments a buxom redhead entered the salon, a look of deep apprehension wrinkling her not unpretty face. Forcing a bright friendly smile to her full lips, Gwen approached the dark man, trying to garner his attention and failing miserably as he watched the doxy scurry up the stairs and into a guest's room. Slowly he turned, incensed. At the dark look in his black eyes, Gwendolyn trembled uncontrollably. Ronnie was right. "Sir, I understand ye were told that we're closed. Still, 'ow might I be able ta 'elp ye?" She had to get rid of him before her regulars began to arrive.

"Kathleena Tell..." he growled. "I want her."

Looking up into his handsome face, she realized with a start that customarily she would have admired his finely chiseled features. But there was something about this man that completely frightened her. Of course. This must be Kathy's vicious fiancé! Dear God! No wonder the girl feared him so. Gwen took a steadying breath, not feeling at all sure of herself. Still, she was able to look him squarely in the eye as she lied, "I'm sorry sir. We 'ave no woman 'ere by that name."

His eyes narrowed treacherously. "Then I will speak to the owner. I am certain she is here."

"Well then yer mistaken, Mister-"

"Barnabas Collins." He bowed derisively.

Eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected name, Gwen's emerald gaze slid to the door on the upper floor, her body tense, none of which was lost on him. "Look Mr. Collins, I am the owner, Gwendolyn Corson an' I am tellin' ye, the woman yer lookin' fer is not here." She fervently hoped that he would simply take her at her word and finally leave, though she strongly doubted this man had ever taken no for an answer in his life.

Barnabas lowered his head, his eyes so black they appeared to vanish into the dark shadows of his slender face. Large hands clamped down on the handle of his cane, trying in vain to control his rage. "I don't believe you," he hissed ominously, his voice deathly quiet.

Taking a step back the woman shuddered. Despite the aura of menace exuding from this man, she would not reveal Kathleena's presence. Not even to the father of her baby. Straining to calm her fears, Gwen shrugged her shoulders flippantly, pleased with herself that she had done so so casually. "Believe me er not, 'tis yer choice Mr. Collins." Considering the conversation at an end, she turned to leave. It was indeed the wrong thing to do.

As swift as a cobra, a hand reached around to seize the woman by the throat. As she tore at his large fingers with her painted nails, he growled into her ear, "You will come with me. Now!"

As his icy breath breezed along her neck, tremors coursed down Gwen's spine. She tried to scream, but nothing came except for a choked gasp.

"My dear," he laughed mirthlessly, "you simply have no say in the matter. You have toyed with me for far too long. Longer than most actually." Yanking her backward toward her office, the look of fear in her wild green eyes pleased him immensely. Good! Fear would make her much more accommodating. Opening the door, he shoved her roughly inside.

"Sit!"

Gwen was grateful to have something between them, although she had no doubt this man could easily upend the solid desk with his fury. Plopping weakly into the leather chair, the redhead massaged her neck as Barnabas placed his hands flat on the desktop tapping the band of his ring in irritation against its wooden surface. He leaned down inches away from her face. "Now, where is she?"

The woman knew her life was dangling by a very thin line. This man wanted Kathleena. Could she, in good consciousness give her up? Would she risk her very existence to protect her friend? His intense brown gaze captured hers and although Gwen tried to look away, something in his eyes held her. Smashing his fists on the desk she recoiled, her heart hammering madly in her breast.

"I shall ask one… last... time…"

A/N: I know these chapters are coming at a fast pace but when I write I am all over the place: first chapter to last chapter bouncing around working here and there. I hope you are enjoying the story and the pace. Remember, any reviews both positive and negative are appreciated :) Duncan shall be making another appearance soon. In the next chapter, I believe.

Le