The next morning Erik awoke to find the birds were chirping directly next to his ear, very loudly. He blinked his eyes open and felt the sticky cotton dryness of his tongue like a dead weight in his mouth. The sunshine through the window was bearing down on his face like an open flame and the birds he could have sworn were on his pillow, were actually outside in the large tree.

He groaned and tried to sit up. His feet hit the cold wood floor with a thud that resounded in his aching head. Throb, throb, throb, throb, went the pounding resonance of his own pulse. 'Scratch brandy off the list for awhile,' he thought.

He realized that it was fairly late into the morning. His timepiece was still in his pocket and he slipped it out to look. It was dead after having forgotten to wind it before he went to bed.

That thought brought another one to his aching brain. How had he gotten to bed? He traced his memories back of leaving the tavern and spending a great deal of time stumbling around in the dark looking for the inn. He tried to remember anything after that but it was all muddled. He looked around the room and noticed the wash basin next to the bed with the used cloth still soaking in it, tinged pinkish brown. Then he noticed his arm had been cleaned.

Christine. He suddenly remembered that she had been waiting for him when he found his way to his room. She must have stayed and helped him into bed.

What had he said? What had he done? He couldn't remember anything. With a silent curse he rose to splash some water on his face and wash the stagnant flavor of brandy from his mouth. If he thought he dreaded going down to face her last night, then today would be even worse.

As the water hit his face he suddenly realized his mask was off! Had he taken it off? Surely Christine would not have done such a thing. That would have involved touching his face. He saw it resting on the bedside table, next to the cloth she had used to clean his wound. Oh, how he wished his head weren't pounding so and that he could remember the evening. He felt so unprepared for what he might have to apologize to her for.

He took his time dressing and cleaning up. If he had to go downstairs and face the music, so to speak, he was going to do it looking his best at least.

The house was fairly quiet. Most of the travelers staying there had either checked out and moved on, or left for the day for town. He heard musical laughter coming from the garden and followed it out. The sunlight was doubly cruel to his eyes and he squinted from under a shading hand and saw Christine with Marie picking vegetables from the garden and placing them in a basket.

"Well good morning!" Marie exclaimed, amusingly. "And how are we feeling this morning, or should I say, afternoon?"

So he had slept late. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Nearly one o' clock," Christine informed him as she picked up the basket.

He rubbed his temples and followed them both back inside. Marie directed them back toward the kitchen and gestured for him to sit down.

"So what was it?" she asked.

"Beg your pardon?" he replied.

"Gin? Whiskey? Bourbon?"

"Oh, it was brandy," he mumbled.

Marie smirked as she got a bottle down from the cupboard. "A brandy man huh?" She poured a mouthful into a mug and topped it off with fresh coffee. "Here," she handed him the mug, "Hair of the dog."

"Thank you," he said. He hoped the coffee would help with his head but he grimaced at the all too familiar flavor mixed into it.

After a few draughts, he said, "I apologize for last night. I hope I didn't disturb anybody when I came back here."

Marie shook her head as she dried her hands on her apron, "I didn't hear you myself, but this is an inn and you aren't the first guest to come stumbling back in the wee hours of the morning."

Christine was rather viciously chopping up a carrot behind Marie. Erik could sense she was avoiding him.

Marie eyed her and noticed Erik's gaze. "Well, I think I'll leave you to the stew, Christine, if you think you can manage." Christine nodded. "I'll go change out your room M. Durand."

"Thank you," he said.

Christine knew that Marie was giving them time alone on purpose and she partly wanted to strangle the woman. She didn't know what to say or what Erik remembered and she still didn't know whether to scold him for getting so fall-down drunk or coddle him for his horrific hangover.

"Christine," Erik began. "I must apologize for my actions last night." He paused, "I hope I didn't do, or say, anything that upset you."

Had Christine heard right; he did not realize what he had said? "The only thing that upset me was that I was worried for you. I thought perhaps you were truly ill. Then I felt very stupid when I finally entered your room and saw that you had gone. I had been talking to your door periodically for hours all night."

Now Erik was surprised, "You did?"

"Yes," she said as she put the diced vegetables into the pot to boil. "I kept asking if you were alright and telling you that I could be there to listen if you wanted to talk about anything that was troubling you."

"Christine, I'm so sorry," Erik said.

"It's alright," she replied, now relieved and amused. "You don't remember anything at all?"

"No. I just remember coming inside and that you were there and seemed greatly perturbed with me."

She smiled at him and said, "How's your head?"

"Better now that I've had this," he raised his mug towards her.

"Good," she said. "Today is gorgeous and I want to go out and enjoy it."

"Oh goodie, more sunshine," he joked. "I can only hope for some clouds."