Hello everyone! Here is the next chapter for your enjoyment! Thanks to everyone for your lovely reviews. It makes me happy to know my story is being received so well.

Oh and by the way with the new hit counters we get for our chapters I know exactly how many of you aren't reviewing as well. Shame, shame! Just kidding.

And once again a huge thanks to my beta Juliana, she is wonderful!

P.S. Happy Fourth of July to all my American readers!

Chapter 26: A Heart's Desire

Erik huddled pitifully under a mountain of blankets as chills wracked his body. It had been hours since Conner had pulled him from the water and yet he couldn't seem to stop shaking. He was a man who thrived on power and the fact that he had absolutely no control over his own body was infuriating. Not that Brielle and Conner hadn't been taking care of both him and Aria - in fact, they had been scrambling to fight off the chills which now seemed to be soaking into his bones.

He hadn't even stumbled through the front door, with Brielle's support, before the damned woman had begun relieving him of nearly every stitch of clothing. At the time he had been too weak to protest her rough ministrations, but thinking back upon it now made his face burn with humiliation. Logically, he understood that it had been necessary to get the wet clothing off as fast as possible, but something about being undressed with Brielle in the room, with those beguiling eyes moving over his skin, sent a shiver down his spine that was altogether different from those he was experiencing now. How he hated himself for allowing his baser instincts such leeway, for thinking such things about a woman who had shown him nothing but kindness.

Worse yet, Erik was certain Brielle was now pointedly avoiding him. Of course, she had seen to his comfort by dragging in dozens of extra blankets and stuffing the bed full of hot water bottles, but with her medicinal duties done she had hastily taken her leave of him. At first he had simply assumed that she was off seeing to her daughter, but as time passed, he had become increasingly aware of her rather odd behavior.

It had started out very subtly; she had only come into the room if Conner was already there, only to leave as soon as she found herself alone with Erik. This alone wouldn't have raised his suspicion - after all there were two patients needing attention - but the way she reacted to him directly did. Every time he spoke to her, trying to tease a smile to her mouth, Brielle only started and stared at him, unblinking, like a doe caught in a hunter's sights, her eyes lamp-like and over bright in her pale face.

Something had changed. Gone was her natural ease and good humor. It was replaced with an unexplainable wariness, as if she were afraid of saying something to him she would later regret. Brielle's silence was damning, and though her behavior was altogether mystifying, Erik knew that she must be angry with him, and he knew exactly why. He couldn't blame her, she had a right to be furious with him; he was furious with himself for what he had done.

When Aria had fallen through the ice he had hesitated, stood frozen at the edge of the pond. What is wrong with me! he thought with a moan, turning his face into his pillow out of frustration. I am a coward - that is what is wrong!

No wonder Brielle was angry, she had finally figured out what he really was - a self-serving, hypocritical bastard. Real people, good people, like Brielle, jumped into action without thought when their loved ones were in danger. Only monsters stood on the bank watching a little girl drown while the voice inside their head cautioned them to stay back, not to risk it.

Clenching his fist and driving it into the mattress next to his head, Erik mumbled several brutal profanities, berating himself and his traitorous heart. The click of the door opening sounded overly loud in the quiet of the room, causing Erik to still and raise his eyes from the pillow, searching for the intruder. Brielle's delicate hand appeared upon the door, her wedding ring glittering faintly, as she cautiously entered the room, a steaming kettle held carefully in her right hand.

She hesitated ever so slightly when she noticed his gaze upon her. "Oh, still awake I see. If you are tired, which I imagine you must be, it is safe for you to go to sleep now. Your temperature has increased out of the danger zone."

"You say that, but I still feel cold," he growled through chattering teeth, unintentionally sharpening his tone, reflecting his internal conflicts.

Taking that as an indication that he needed something, Brielle stepped into the room, easing the door shut behind her. "You feel cold because in trauma involving winter weather, blood in the limbs drops to a lower temperature than the torso. By now the cooler blood has been pumped back into your major systems. That is why you are still shivering; your body is trying to warm everything back up."

Setting the kettle onto a marble topped side table, Brielle worried her bottom lip between her teeth, a clear indication of discomfort. "Actually, that is the reason most people die when being exposed to the elements. The mixing of the blood causes too much of a drop in temperature for the body to recover. If either of you had stayed in the water any longer…" The cool, analytical tone Brielle had slipped into suddenly broke and she raised a fist to cover her mouth, her eyes darkening with barely controlled horror at what might have been.

Turning her face from his view, she took several slow, steadying breaths before moving back to the table picking up the kettle once more. "I made some tea if you would care for any." There was a pause as she suddenly frowned about the room. "Sweet Mary, I didn't bring a cup. Where is my head? I'll go get one." Brielle said as she hastily headed for the door.

Struggling to sit up despite the tremors weakening his arms, Erik called out to her. "Wait a moment, I have something I need to say. Please don't go."

When the white-haired woman stopped at the door and turned back to look at him over her shoulder he continued. "You have been acting very strangely and I think I know why."

Erik's words had a most startling and unexpected effect upon Brielle. Her pretty mouth dropped open as the little color remaining in her face drained away, leaving her deathly pale. Setting the kettle down again with a clatter the woman stared over at him, horrified, as if he had suddenly sprouted horns.

"You do?" she breathed.

Unable to meet her gaze any longer Erik looked away; he didn't know if he could handle seeing the accusation creep into those eyes as he explained the reasoning behind his earlier actions. "Yes, and I can't blame you."

Though he wasn't looking at her, Erik could feel a slight shift in the air as the mood of the room changed. "You can't blame me?" she asked carefully, a sharp edge sneaking into her tone.

"No, you have a right to be angry," he replied quickly. "I am just as furious with myself."

When Brielle remained quiet, Erik braved a glance her way. But instead of finding the woman in a state of anger, she seemed to be rather confounded by his statement.

"Wait, what are you talking about?" she finally asked, a funny little worry line appearing between her snowy brows.

"The reason why you have been acting so strangely. It is because you are angry with me," he supplied before clenching his jaw, trying to muffle the clattering of his teeth. "Why? What did you think we were talking about?"

Quickly shaking her head and waving off his question, Brielle gave a nervous smile. "Oh nothing," she said with a shrug as she walked to the edge of the bed, pulling upon the down comforter to straighten out the wrinkles. "What else was it you said?"

"I know why you are angry with me."

Glancing up from where she was tucking the blankets about his feet Brielle cocked her head slightly to the side, a quizzical expression raising her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"You are going to make me confess it all aren't you?" he demanded furiously. "Fine! It is about time you know who I really am!"

Coming around the corner of the bed to stand next to him, Brielle folded her arms over her chest. "Erik, are you feeling alright? Whatever are you blabbering about?"

"You have been avoiding me from the moment we stepped into the house because you are angry I didn't act sooner. I should have run out there immediately, like you did, but I stood on the bank and did nothing."

Staring at him with her mouth hanging open, Brielle stood in shocked silence for several moments. Shaking herself out of the confusion clouding her eyes, Brielle turned and drew a nearby wingback chair up to the edge of the bed. Taking a seat, she leaned forward and placed a hand over his on the mattress.

"Erik I am not angry with you."

Jerking his hand out from under hers Erik drew the blankets further up under his chin, guarding himself from her soft eyes. "You should be!" he accused. "You should be enraged that you have been so kind to me for so long and when the time came for me to take action on this family's behalf I failed."

"What are you talking about! You didn't fail. You saved Aria's life. She is resting in the next room because of you instead of being prepared for burial. How could I be angry with you Erik? You saved my life when you pulled her from the water."

Turning his head to stare her in the face, Erik let his eyes burn with the self loathing he felt rolling, slick like oil, about his stomach. "I wouldn't have, though. At first I was glad you went out onto the ice so I wouldn't have to. So I wouldn't have to risk my own neck to save another."

"Erik stop this…" Brielle began, her eyes imploring him to cease the horrific news he was now set upon telling her.

"No, you need to hear this. I can't deceive you any longer."

Sitting back in her chair, wrapping her arms protectively about her waist, Brielle eyed him warily as he continued. "All my life I have lived for no one but myself. I learned very early on that others cannot be relied upon for anything, not family, not loved ones, no one. Based upon that truth, I only ever considered people according to what they might do for me."

He paused there, daring her to say one word, secretly hoping that those wonderful misty gray eyes wouldn't turn away with disgust. "Even when I came to care for someone it was only because of what she could do for my music at first. So it came as no surprise when that is how I considered you, how you could further my own gains. What was a surprise was how, as time passed, I began to see this family as people rather than means to an end. That had rarely ever happened before."

When Brielle opened her mouth to interrupt, he waved her off. "But even despite that, when Aria was in danger I found that damned voice in the back of my head telling me to hold back, let someone else handle the situation. And despite your kindness I was still ensuring my own safety over all others. That is the difference between you and me. You constantly think of others while I constantly think of myself." Raising a hand to swipe at his aching eyes, Erik stopped for a moment.

"I shouldn't have held back. I should have run out there straight away," he growled.

With a sigh Brielle sat forward again, the chair creaking in protest at her movement. Erik winced as he waited for her reply, knowing deep in his heart that this was the end of their friendship, that perhaps she would even ask him to leave. It made him sick inside.

"Hard lives create hard people," she murmured, her gaze pained as she continued to meet his eyes steadily, "and your life must have been terribly difficult."

When she didn't continue, Erik could only stare at her in shock. Where was the condemnation he had been so sure would be lurking in her tone? "What is wrong with you? I just told you that…"

"What? That you are human? That you feel guilty because you weren't the first to run out onto the ice? You are trying to convince me that you are a terrible person, but I just cannot believe it of you. Perhaps in the past those things might have been true. Perhaps you were that man you have described because you had to be in order to stay alive. But I have come to know someone completely different."

"Brielle…"

"No, you listen to me now," she ordered sharply. "When Conner came with the rope you called out to him to take Aria before yourself. When you fell through the ice, instead of pulling yourself out you focused on pushing my daughter further from the edge. How can a bad man do these good things? Now perhaps you have had some conflicting thoughts. Perhaps a little part of who you were came through. But I will not condemn someone just because of what they think. It is a man's actions which define him. Can you not see the goodness of your own actions when they are so clear to others?"

Sitting up straight then, Brielle smoothed her hands over her skirts. Taking a deep breath, she gazed about the room for several moments before returning her eyes to him. "It concerns me that you seem to have developed the odd misconception that I am somehow a better person than you are."

"What misconception? Facts are facts. I…"

"When I was ten years old, my father was stationed in India. Two years after we moved there the revolution began." Brielle stated in a cool collected tone as she interrupted him. "I saw hundreds of men die in all manner of ways. Dysentery took dozens a day. Artillery tore off hands, legs, faces. And yet, despite the horrors of war and my young age I never shed a single tear for any of those men."

Shrugging slightly, she picked at a piece of lint on her skirt. "I couldn't weep for those poor boys. What sort of person does that make me?"

"You were young…and that is hardly the same thing."

"That doesn't matter. The point is that no one is perfect. Everyone has something they are not proud of in their past. And everyone has something they are born with to correct any mistakes they may make, a genius unseen by those who possess it but so very clear to the eyes of others. You are simply having trouble accepting the witness of those who have seen yours." She gave a lopsided smile then and leaned forward to tuck the blankets more tightly about him. "Would you like me to go get more blankets?"

"No, you blasted woman," he grumped.

"Well I am glad to see you are in a better mood now," Brielle huffed haughtily, poking him sharply in the arm. "If you are going to continue acting like a brute, I will simply leave." Standing, she took a step toward the door, stopping suddenly with a wince. Hopping back to the chair she fell into its seat, pulling her foot up to take a better look at the bottom.

"I pulled out every one of those damned stitches earlier. Didn't even feel it until I got back into the house. Ruined my favorite pair of house slippers, they were full of blood," she sighed slowly pulling of her shoe and stocking to gaze darkly at the sole of her foot.

"What is the matter with you? Running around the house like a chicken with its head chopped off when you have an injury. Why didn't you let the doctor that Andrew fetched take care of you?" Erik inquired.

Her expression souring quickly Brielle blew at her stinging foot, cradling it protectively in both hands. "I would have been happy to have the good doctor stitch my blasted foot. But unfortunately, due to extenuating circumstances, he was forced to leave in haste."

"Why did he leave? I never even caught a glimpse of him."

Raising her eyes from her injuries Brielle flashed a wolfish snarl, her straight pearly teeth glittering in the afternoon sunlight. "Well I believe he found it rather difficult to stay with my boot in his behind."

"Excuse me?"

"As soon as he offered to bleed Aria to prevent the development of a fever, I threw him out of the house," she stated simply. "I never really had any need for the man anyway."

Despite how rotten Erik felt physically, he couldn't help but smile at this woman's audacity. Her actions never ceased to surprise him. "Oh, and what did Andrew say about you tossing out his chosen physician? The man actually ran to retrieve his horse. I didn't know English lords were capable of running."

Lowering her foot, Brielle sat up straight and for the first time since the accident on the ice she smiled at him. Color returned to her cheeks as she chuckled quietly, her stance relaxing, and her natural ease returning. Whatever had been plaguing her over the last few hours, driving her to avoid his company and act like a stranger had apparently passed. She was herself again, and a deep pent-up anxiety Erik hadn't fully been aware of slowly eased from his heart.

All of a sudden, with Brielle smiling at him like that, Erik didn't feel so terrible. Perhaps it was his imagination or perhaps it was the warmth of her expression, but he didn't feel as cold anymore. Odd that one woman's smile could have such an effect upon him.

"You sound more like an Irishman every day with the way you talk about English lords," she laughed while tucking several wayward strands of hair back up into the bun on top of her head. Sobering slightly she sighed and looked out the window. "You truly dislike Andrew a great deal."

Considering her ambivalent statement to be a question, Erik took it upon himself to answer her as truthfully as he dared. "For being a woman who can peer into the future you certainly are shortsighted when it comes to reading people. Dislike would be a pale expression of the depths of the hatred I feel toward that man."

Making an irritated sound deep in her throat, Brielle began to tap out a rhythm with her finger nails upon the chair arm. "I suppose I should not ask why."

Turning onto his side so he wouldn't have to crane his neck to look at her, Erik settled deeper into his pillow. With the shivering having lessened over the course of their conversation, he was now feeling slightly groggy. The suggestion Brielle had made earlier that he get some rest didn't sound all that bad now.

"No, you shouldn't ask why, because then I would have to tell you the truth, which is that he is an arrogant, egotistical, selfish moron."

"I seem to remember you describing yourself with almost those exact words not half an hour ago," the blasted woman pointed out, a smug knowing edge sneaking into her smile. Erik hated it when she was right.

His hackles rising instinctively, Erik tensed under the covers. "You aren't suggesting that I somehow share characteristics with the man?"

Shaking her head soothingly Brielle leaned forward and rubbed a hand over his one exposed arm. "Of course not. You are complete polar opposites of one another." Giving his elbow a gentle squeeze, an oddly soft expression flickered behind her eyes. "You are rash, emotional, hot-headed, opinionated…" she stated ticking off each attribute upon a finger.

With each word his temper inflated just a little more until he was about to explode. How dare she insult me in comparison to that ass! Opening his mouth to fire off a retort, Erik was interrupted as she bullied her way to finish her sentence.

"All of which I hold terribly dear." Dropping her hand from his skin, Brielle's gaze flared with an unusual brightness as she focused upon the pillow, avoiding his confused glare. "I would gladly trade in one hundred Andrews if only to gain one Erik," she murmured.

Not certain he had heard her correctly, Erik could only stare, blinking over at her in silence. The poor woman suddenly looked as surprised as he felt, but before he could overcome his shock Brielle quickly climbed to her feet, wincing when she bumped her injured foot.

Laughing nervously she took a hobbling step to the side. "Oh my, where is my head? I was going to get you a cup for the tea ages ago and it completely slipped my mind. I should go do that…the tea that is." Backing away from the bed with a hurried limp, Brielle snatched the now cool kettle of tea from the dresser and whirling swept out of the room.

"What in the world has gotten into her?" he wondered aloud, totally flabbergasted by her bizarre behavior.

Sighing, Erik turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, scratching his chin absently. Women, he was afraid, would always remain a mystery to him. As Erik mentally ticked off the events of the day, the fatigue which had been hovering at the edges of his consciousness began to now pull his eyelids downwards. He fought this growing drowsiness as he had fought earlier to keep his head above water, but he could tell this time he would lose the battle. Despite how he longed to replay the conversation he had just had with Brielle over again in his head, Erik knew that the trials of the day had taken their toll. He needed to rest.

Closing his eyes the masked man yawned loudly, letting the minutes pass in stillness, waiting for unconsciousness. The gears in his mind slowing and slowing until all thoughts of the day drifted off into the fingers of mist enfolding his brain. Even as he floated weightless in that mysterious place just between waking and sleep, the cold continued to numb his fingers and send intermittent shivers along his limbs.

When, after an unknown time of laying inert upon the bed, a warm hand slipped into his frozen palm Erik merely wrapped his fingers about the welcomed heat without question. The dream was pleasant, the guilt and uncertainty remaining within his heart melting as he held onto the phantom hand as if it were real. Somehow the dream presence warming him now reminded him of someone…someone important…someone who could warm him with just a smile.

Smiling, he fell deeper into the dream, the image of a white-haired woman floating in his mind. "Brielle…"