His voice seemed to surround her. There were no words, only the calming tone. She opened herself to it, let it fill every inch of her until no other sound existed. His arms like black water wrapped around her. She fell limp against him. His voice became her air. Vincent had left and it was only them in the manor. She didn't know how he had gotten in, only that she didn't want him to leave. In the large gray hallway she let him consume her.

Rachel indulged in the area of consciousness between full arousal and deep sleep. Sunlight spilled onto her and her pillow and she could see that gray hallway turning to white. She struggled to hold on to the dream only to have it fade forever out of existence with the sound of Vincent's voice.

"Rachel, are you awake?" She felt him lightly touch her shoulder.

"Yes," She replied, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She looked over at Vincent and was struck with the sickening realization that he was not the man in her dream. "Oh…" She groaned. Oh no. She pressed her hands to her ears as if the action would prevent the truth from coming to her. How could she? She was no harlot, she was sure of that. How could she ever dream of another man, and in the very bed she shared with her husband? The fantasy wasn't the worst of it. She actually enjoyed being in the arms of another man. It was disgraceful. It was sinful. It was unforgivable. She tried to breathe in but found herself denied the air as punishment.

"Are you not feeling well?" Vincent asked, a look of concern on his face. "Undertaker told me what happened. I plan to have a stern talk with Ciel about his behavior."

"Oh, Vincent," She moved her hands to cover her eyes, finding herself unable to look at him. She drew in a thin breath and spoke between gasps. "I love you, more than anything else."

"I love you too." Vincent leaned in and placed a kiss on her cheek. "I won't let anything take you away from me. Not this illness. Not anything." He rose from the bed and walked over to the dresser. "I want you to stay and rest today. I'll take Ciel off your hands and take him to the market. It'll give me a chance to speak with him." Rachel opened her mouth to object. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with her thoughts. But she held her tongue. She knew better than to speak against her husband. "I'll have Maryanne check on you." Vincent continued, getting dressed. "It must be all the excitement around here. I try to keep these issues away from you and Ciel, but it seems I've failed." He walked over to Rachel and rested a hand on hers. "I'll get things settled as soon as possible. Everything should return to normal then." He knelt down and kissed her. His lips were as soft and gentle as ever, how could she want anything else? "Take care of yourself, Rachel. Ciel and I will be back before supper." Rachel nodded, not trusting herself to speak, lest her voice come out weak and give her away. She collapsed back into the back once Vincent left. She couldn't bring herself to fall back asleep for fear that the same dream would visit her. Instead she admired the patterns of the blankets, observed the panels on the ceiling, examined the furniture in the room… It was all exhaustingly boring.

Maryanne arrived with breakfast and to check her temperature. Rachel assured her that all she needed was rest and the intrusive nurse soon left. Rest. Rachel despised even the word. She rolled out of her bed and wandered around the bedroom. She had left her knitting needles and yarn in another room. Remembering the blanket, she now desperately wanted to finish it. However, she didn't want to take the chance of running into Maryanne in the hallway and once again becoming the center of her attention. Another thought came to mind, one Rachel initially tried to ignore. However, as the boredom became more and more unbearable she reluctantly resigned to it. She removed Maude's book from its hiding place and took a seat in a chair by the window. She couldn't possibly return to her place in the bed. Not after her dream, and certainly not with this book in hand. After a moment's hesitation she opened to the first page. She should have been more reluctant, rather, she shouldn't have picked up the book at all. But feeling the weight of it in her hands she felt a small surge of adrenaline. This questionable act excited her. Left alone she couldn't deny this. After reading a few sentences she closed it again. Just what was she doing? She bit her lip, and returned to the page. She'd only read a few more sentences. That should be enough to satisfy her curiosity.

Sentences soon turned into pages and pages soon turned into chapters. Throughout it all Rachel found herself relishing in a feeling she never felt to such an extent since her and Vincent were first married. When Maryanne knocked on the door to announce that Vincent and Ciel had arrived home from their trip Rachel felt as though she had been pulled out of another world. It took her a moment to recognize her own bedroom, and then another moment to remember where the book was originally hidden. Once she had fully come to her senses she rushed to hide it. She hoped Maryanne wouldn't expect anything from the sound of her sudden rummaging.

"Are you well enough to join them for supper?" Maryanne asked from behind the door.

"Yes!" Rachel replied, a bit too enthusiastically. "I feel much better. A little rest was all I needed. I'll be down shortly."

Vincent and Ciel were already seated when Rachel arrived in the dining room. Ciel quickly jumped up from his seat and ran over to give her the biggest hug he could.

"Oh, Ciel," Rachel said, leaning down to return the hug. "Did you miss me? You were only gone for a few hours."

"Too long," came Ciel's muffled reply as he buried his face in her skirt. Rachel couldn't help but the smile. She kissed the top of his head and ushered him back to his seat.

"Isn't there something you want to say to mother, Ciel?" Vincent said, fork in hand.

"I'm sorry for running so much yesterday," Ciel said, looking down at his plate.

"It's okay," Rachel took her own seat. "Just listen next time, okay?"

"Okay…"

For the remainder of the dinner Rachel was able to forget about the book and Undertaker. She smiled warmly and listened intently to all that Vincent had to say. She was even able to persuade Ciel to eat the majority of his meal. After eating her modest portion, she leaned back in her seat and breathed a sigh. She let her eyes close for a moment, and when she opened them again the maids had already arrived to clear the table.

"Undertaker will be coming this evening," Vincent mentioned nonchalantly, placing his napkin on the table. "We have a few things we need to discuss." He stood up and rubbed the top of Ciel's head, tousling the child's midnight-blue locks. Rachel felt as though time stopped around her. Every memory that had left her alone for this sacred time rushed back to her.

"Undertaker?" She exclaimed, looking over at Vincent.

"Yes." He replied, puzzled. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no. It's just- No. It's nothing." She couldn't find the words to speak her concerns. Even if she could, now wouldn't be the best time. Not in front of Ciel.

"Rachel, I know the man can be a bit strange at times, but he's a highly respected member of our society." A mortician. Respected. Rachel knew better than to disagree with anything that Vincent had to say. She smiled sweetly and lowered her head in submission.

"Yes. I understand."

"Very good. We shouldn't be but an hour or two." As Vincent left Rachel looked over at Ciel, who found more interest in playing with the last remnants of his food. A maid swiftly swept away his plate, and the child pouted. Rachel remembered his blanket then. She gathered the child up in her arms and carried him to the nursery where the nurse was dutifully cleaning.

"Now go play, dear." She whispered sweetly. "Mother will have a present for you very soon."

"A present?" Ciel repeated, looking up at his mother as he was set down.

"Yes, but you have to behave or you won't get it. Okay?"

"Okay!" He shouted enthusiastically. He made a beeline for his rocking horse, and in a moment was fully engrossed in his play.

"Thank you Anna, for all you do." The brunette nurse turned and briefly nodded before returning to her work.

"It's my pleasure, my lady." Rachel returned to the broad expanse of the hallway. Every step brought back another memory of yesterday. She hummed a tune to distract herself. Surely she was reading too much into things. She rarely even sees the man. If he truly had an interest in her he'd make his presence more known to her. Now, she was certain she had left the blanket in the room in the next hallway. It was the room where one could most clearly see the garden, after all.

She was so absorbed in her mission that she failed to realize her fatal flaw until it was too late. If one speaks of the devil, even in a momentary thought, he is sure to appear. Naiveté has been the downfall of many. She turned the corner into the familiar hallway and was distracted by a spider web that clung to one of the paintings. She stopped and scowled. Were the servants using her weakness as an excuse to neglect their housework? She shook her and as she turned away from it she felt a presence behind her. Before she could react long arms draped over her.

"Are we feeling better today, Lady Phantomhive?" The familiar voice cooed. Rachel was mute with shock. She grabbed onto one of his sleeves. He was much, much too close. How casual his action was, as if she was an old lover he had come to visit. Undertaker chuckled and the weight was removed from her shoulders.

"Un-Undertaker…!" Rachel breathed, quickly turning around to look at the man. He should be with Vincent. Why was this man allowed to roam so freely in their home? Had he no basic understanding of courtesy? Undertaker tilted his head, still wearing his dotty grin.

"Surprised to see me? Hihihi… I just wanted to check up on you, is all."

"A-as you can see I'm quite alright," Rachel stammered out in response. Her hands flew up to her collarbones as if a ghost still remained there. "I-I…" She tripped over her words and her cheeks flushed a bright red. She couldn't force out another word.

"That's wonderful," Undertaker lifted his arms in a superficial shrug. "I wouldn't want to prepare a custom casket for you too early, ihihihihi."

"Oh, don't say things like that!" Rachel retorted, hugging herself. Undertaker lowered his arms and his smile grew a little smaller. He looked for a moment as if he wanted to say something, but instead leaned in and pecked Rachel on the cheek.

"I didn't mean to offend you m'lady…" His voice trailed off. He allowed the rest of his sentence to go unsaid. His wide grin returned, obviously amused by Rachel's reaction to his display of affection. He held a sleeve up to his mouth but did little to suppress his fit of laughter. She hugged herself tighter and shot him a dirty look. Her breaths escaped her nostrils in harsh bursts. "Don't overdo yourself, hihihi… We wouldn't want another episode, would we?" With that he turned and left her. The nerve of that man! To do that to her, and with her husband only a few rooms away. Once she was absolutely sure he was gone, she exhaled loudly. Her heart beat rapidly. The air was scarce. It was clear to her now that the previous evening was no fluke. This man… This mortician had an attraction to her. Realization chilled her to the bone. Could it be that she was attracted to him as well? Her breath came out in noisy gasps and her futile effects to calm herself down did little to stop them. She dragged herself to the where her knitting needles lay. Her movements were automatic, driven more by instinct than a desire to do anything. She lowered herself into her rocking chair and her weakened arms lifted the yarn and needles to her lap. Her hands shook and she found herself unable to complete even a single stitch. She attempted the stitch countless times, her mind somewhere else. She needed to tell Vincent. She pressed her hands into her lap to stop their shaking. She needed to tell Vincent. She needed to. She needed to tell him right away. She abruptly stood up. The yarn and needles tumbled to the ground but all memory of their existence was gone from her.

She briskly walked to the door of the drawing room and stopped. She pressed her palms against the wood and exhaled. As quietly as she could manage, she opened the door a crack and peeked in. Her heart stopped for a moment. Of course, how could she forget? The Undertaker came to see Vincent, after all. It shouldn't have been such a shock to her when she saw the silver-haired man sitting next to Vincent. His arm hung over her husband's shoulders and he leaned in close to him. A grin that almost reached his ears was on his face and he swung a piece of paper loosely from his fingers. Vincent was smiling as well, looking remarkably comfortable with this man so close to him. He opened his eyes and said something to the Undertaker, then looked up as if startled by something. Rachel's breathing stopped. She would have closed the door completely and hurried down the hallway for fear of being caught had it not been for the sight of little Ciel running towards the men. The child was giggling as he attempted to climb his way up the mortician's robes into his lap. Vincent's smile faded for a moment. It returned as he addressed the child.

"Ciel, what are you doing here?" He spoke with a gentle and amused voice. He was such a kind man… No matter what trouble the child caused, he was always patient with him.

"Undertaker!" Ciel exclaimed. All progress was lost as he slid down the man's leg. Undertaker chuckled and picked the boy up.

"And how are we, little Earl?"

"Good!" Undertaker chuckled and Ciel giggled in reply. Vincent watched the happy reunion, resting his head on his hand. Rachel quietly closed the door.

He was adored by her family. Even Ciel who was so shy around any strangers he met greeted Undertaker like a beloved uncle. How could she tell Vincent? Whenever she was troubled it was always him she turned to. No matter how miniscule her problem, she always consulted him. But in this manner, she felt completely alone. She couldn't disrupt this peace. She couldn't bring herself to slander the name of a man so respected in her household. And she knew all that was in her heart would run from her lips like a stream if she attempted to. She couldn't tell Vincent of her concerns without mentioning the kiss, the man's arms around her, her own feelings… She knew she'd confess her dream to him as well. No secret shame would be hidden. Running a hand through her hair, she backed away from the door. What a disgraceful woman she was. She retreated to the garden, where the flowers would know of her feelings and comfort her.