In The Space of Time

Chapter 18

Chapter 18
Joan drove the road back to Bonneville fighting back her tears, her anger reaching its boiling point. "Who does he think he is? On the phone he berated me then the next minute he sticks his tongue down my throat." The rest of her tirade was with herself. Not once able to admit how his kiss sparked feelings she never thought she'd feel again, after Jon Rene. Finally reaching the Chateau, she got out of the car slammed the door and went inside. She was so angry she couldn't think of eating, she headed straight to her room and dialed her aunt. When Emily answered the phone Joan heard the sleepiness in her voice and regretted calling without checking the time. After assuring her aunt that she was fine, she promised to call her the next day. Frustrated, she showered and went to bed. When she'd finally fallen asleep she started dreaming about Jon Rene. He was shouting, why hadn't she told him good-bye or left him a farewell message? No matter how she tried to explain, she'd hadn't wanted to leave he wouldn't believe her. He kept asking her why she hadn't told him goodbye.
At the shop Jon tried to finish his work, but his behavior toward Joan kept haunting him. He knew he needed to make her believe, he was not the kind of man he acted like he had tonight.
He closed up the museum and started for the Chateau, the next thing he knew he was pulling into the parking lot of the Boars Head, he paused for a moment. He leaned forward and rested his head on the steering wheel debating whether or not to go in for a nightcap, maybe a good stiff drink was just what he needed he told himself. When he entered the Inn it was practically empty, Ponte waved and asked if he wanted the usual. They'd known each other for years, an on many occasions they'd spent time discussing the history of Bonneville. Something Jon never tired of. In his search of Bonneville history he'd been able to pick up useful bits of information, to add to his chronicle of the Von Blue dynasty. Tonight Jon was feeling exceptionally curious, things kept rolling around in his head that he couldn't seem to let go of, so during the course of their conversation he asked Pont if he'd ever heard any strange tales? Expressing no matter how ridiculous or strange they sounded, he wanted to hear about them. Ponte looked pensive for a moment, then called out to an old man at the end of the bar and invited him to join them. With effort the white haired old man shuffled toward them, he smiled broadly sticking out a gnarled hand when Ponte introduced him to Jon. Although his face was lined with wrinkles, his eyes were bright and alert. His name was Philippe he claimed to be one hundred and four, when Jon offered him a glass of wine in exchange for a little history, he agreed, mentioning the only thing he liked better than a glass of wine was recalling stories of the past. For several hours Jon listened, enjoying the stories but nothing seemed to be what he'd been hoping for. Until Philippe mentioned a story he'd heard when he'd been a very young boy. Not sure if Jon wanted to hear such a strange story, he hesitated. It didn't take much encouragement for him to go on once Jon explained he wanted to hear anything no matter how strange. So Philippe proceeded, claiming he only remembered bits and pieces from his youth. He said the story was something about a young woman being kidnapped by Jon Rene, and brought to the home of Francois Jonell. No one knew where she'd come from, but supposedly she had information about the future, that she gave to Jon Rene allowing him to claim his title. Jon's heart started to beat rapidly and his palms started to sweat, this was exactly the type of information he'd been hoping to find out for years. When Jon tried to question Philippe further about what he could recall, the old man apologized saying that was all he remembered. He thanked Jon for the wine, explaining he had to leave.
Intrigued with this newly found information, Jon couldn't stop thinking about what the old man had said. Although he wondered where the mysterious woman originated from, he wasn't sure if he believed she'd given information about the future, he felt more strongly than ever there was something hidden in the past he needed to know. Because of the lateness of the hour he bid Ponte goodnight and headed for the Chateau. At the Chateau he went directly to his bedroom, after removing his clothes except for his trousers he went downstairs and fix himself a sandwich, he could tell it would be long while before he'd sleep.
Joan had been thrashing around in her bed for hours, dreaming the same dream over and over, then something startled her awake. Down the hall in Marks bedroom Cindy had just knocked over a chair, "oops" she muttered covering her mouth. Mark shook his head, "Are you that anxious my sweet?" She giggled then ran toward him jumping on the bed. "Yes" she answered.
Joan straining to hear, only heard silence, but something definitely woke her. She went to the door and opened it quietly, seeing the hall dark and empty she walked down to Jon's door. When she reached his room she put her ear to the door and listened, hearing nothing she tried the doorknob. The room was bathed in a pale glow, from a small table lamp. She made her way immediately to the mantle, where she searched for the secret compartment. When she heard a click her heart skipped a beat, she eased the wooden panel open and reached inside.
Desperately she searched, but it was empty. A feeling of disappointment and heartache washed over her. Tears began rolling down her cheek, after closing the compartment she returned to her room. Jon had just turned the corner into the hall when he noticed his bedroom door ajar, stepping back into the shadows he saw Joan leave. When it seemed safe he went to his room, setting down his plate he started pacing. He stopped every so often wondering if she'd come to confront him about his behavior at the museum? Then he resumed pacing trying to figure what to do next. When he heard the sound of a door close, he held his breath and waited for what seemed an interminable amount of time, to see if Joan were returning. Slowly he crept to the door and carefully opened it, when he saw the hall empty he walked to the railing overlooking the main floor. There he saw her clad only in a nightgown looking out the window. It occurred to him she might be sleepwalking again, when he saw her try to open the door he knew he'd have to stop her. Half stumbling he ran down the stairs, hoping to merely lead her back up stairs. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he quickly but gently reached out and touched her shoulder. When she turned he again saw that far away look in her eyes, making him wonder who it was she saw. In a repeat performance, she put her arms around his neck and lifted her mouth to his and kissed him. He felt desire start to grow when he felt the warmth of her body pressed against him, and her mouth begging to be kissed. He tried several times to talk to her but she continued to kiss away his words. Before he realized it, he'd lifted her delicate body in his arms and carried her upstairs. When he reached the top of the stairs he thought he'd be able to halt her passion, wake her and send her to Marks room. But the pull of his own passion seemed to be working against him, he knew he should stop but he was unable to fight his desire any longer and he carried her to his room. When he set her on the floor her eyes were ablaze, her breast straining against the flimsy material of her nightgown.
As she stood before him she slowly reached up and slipped the gown off her shoulders and let it slide to the floor. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, his eyes devoured her as they traveled over her body. Her body seemed to emanate a glow from her passion, when she spoke her voice was husky with passion, "Jon, make love to me." His heart was pounding so hard he could hardly breath, his stomach began to tighten and he felt a throbbing in his groin. With her mouth just inches from his, he tried to tell himself he shouldn't make love to her. But before another thought could cross his mind she took his hand and placed it on her breast. Then she leaned forward and started to kiss his chest, his self-control gone he carried her to the bed. Her eyes were like glowing embers possessing him, it was as if years of pent up desire were unleashed, needing to touch, taste and possess every inch of her. Her mouth was wet and sensuous, his tongue pulling forth every morsel of her will power. She surrendered to him totally as the touch of his large hands brought whimpers of pleasure. He kissed every inch of her body until she cried out in uncontrolled passion. When they made love, her unbridled lust sent spasms of ecstasy through him.
Later when their passion was sated he lay holding her, struggling to find the words to tell her how he felt, but speech failed him. In that twilight period before total sleep overtakes you, he whispered, "Mon petite I love you." Then he drifted off to sleep. Sometime during the night Joan left Jon's bed and returned to her room. Intermittently Jon slept where he encountered strange dreams of himself or someone who looked him. This other self was angry, about something, and kept demanding to know why she hadn't said goodbye. But he had no idea who that someone was. In the morning when he finally woke he found the bed empty. He rose unsure what to do, then he started to pace, stopping every so often he'd run his hands through his hair and try to think.
What kind of a man was he, that he'd take advantage of a sleepwalker? On top of that she was Mark's woman. But the thought of losing her was almost unbearable. He couldn't make himself believe they could make love as they did last night, and she'd not remember. He decided to go to Mark right away and have it out with him. Hurriedly he headed for Marks bedroom. Just as he was about to knock, he heard a woman's laughter coming from inside. He felt his stomach churn and the bile rise in his throat. He wanted to beat the door down, trying to understand how she could be with his brother already, when he still had her scent on him. Angrily he stormed off. When Joan woke that morning she felt deliciously content, and that her dreams were becoming way to real, especially last nights dream. She closed her eyes and ran her tongue over her lips seeking the taste of his kiss, and cupped her breast with her hand that sent a tingle through her. Her eyes flew open, it had to have been a dream she told herself. Right now she couldn't even remember if it was Marks brother, or Jon Rene who made love to her. Confusion reigned supreme, because lately her mind couldn't seem to separate them. What she needed was to stop thinking altogether. Coffee was her first order of the day, so she showered, dressed and went downstairs. When she entered the kitchen Jon was seated at the table, when he looked up his eyes were pale and appeared lifeless.
Hesitant after how'd he tried to humiliate her at the museum, she nodded. She'd made up her mind, that today she was going to find out why he disliked her so much? She gathered her courage and spoke, "Good morning, do you mind if I join you?" In a split second his look changed from bleak to disdain, his words dripped of contempt when he spoke.
"Have you no shame? Are you a woman of such easy virtue, you would sleep with the brother of the man you are to marry, then run back to his bed before the scent of our lovemaking was gone. I pray for my brother's sake he finds out about you before it is to late."
Then he jumped up from the table and stormed out of the kitchen. She sat for a moment stunned, tears stinging her eyes. What in the world was he talking about?
Why does this man hate me so? She asked herself. Then the dream from last night comes back.
'Oh please, let it be a dream that I slept with him, last night.'
Fear of what she might find out gripped her, she turned and ran back up to her bedroom, walking cautiously to the bed she picked up her nightgown and held it to her face. There was no denying the scent of lovemaking, shocked at what she'd discovered she flopped on the bed, she closed her eyes and tried to think, when the phone rang. When she picked up the phone it was her uncle. "Uncle Kyle is there something the matter" she asked, knowing the answer even before he spoke. "Joan, it's your aunt." A small gasp escaped her lips, in a voice trembling with fear, "hat happened?" She asked. "We think she had a heart attack."
Joan screamed, "Oh my God." Calm down, she's still alive but not doing well, "I think you should come home," then quickly added he'd already booked her a flight. After giving her the information he told her he'd meet her and Cindy at the airport. As soon as she hung up, she ran down the hall to Mark's room. When Cindy answered the door, she could tell immediately something was wrong, "What's the matter." Joan explained about her uncle's call, telling her that he'd booked a flight for them, if Cindy wanted to go. "My God Joan, of course I want to go, I'll pack and meet you downstairs." Mark jumped up and said he'd drive them to the airport. It took them less than thirty minutes to dress, pack and head for the airport. Mark told them to be sure to let him know how Emily was. During the flight Cindy held Joan's hand, and they both prayed. Kyle picked them up at the airport, and drove them straight to St. Anthony's Hospital. When the doctor met Joan in the hall he simply shook his head, and told her he thought Emily was only holding on to say goodbye.
When Joan entered the room her aunt looked so small and pale laying on the bed, the only noise was coming from the respirator. Shakily she walked to the bed, reaching down she took her aunts frail hand in her own she brought it to her lips, then sat in a chair near the bed and started to pray, within minutes a sense of peace came over her. She knew Emily was aware of her presence, and that her aunt could now let go. Emily then took her last breath. Joan just sat listening to the sound of the monitor beeping, when the doctor entered the room. After he listened to Emily's chest, he turned off the machine. "She's gone." He said to Joan. Although she'd heard the words she still couldn't believe her aunt was dead, she just sat there. The Doctor mumbled something about leaving her alone, and he left. She sat in the dark room, unable to bring herself to leave. Over and over in her mind she tried to understand how she'd not received any message from her aunt. They always been able to communicate with each other, why hadn't she come through to her? Finally Cindy, Kyle and Jo Beth insisted she leave, they'd already contacted the funeral director. Emily had left instructions for her burial, and she wanted them carried out as quickly as possible.
Since Em's death happened on a Sunday they made arrangements for the funeral and burial on Wednesday. The news of Emily's death spread around the town of Brighton with speed and sorrow. On Wednesday Joan was in awe when she saw the amount of people who'd come to the wake, everyone in town was there. Even several people from the nearby town of Culvert paid their respects. Jo Beth and Helen Hendricks prepared a luncheon for anyone who wanted to stop by. The whole day was like a bad dream, with Joan hoping to wake up and find it unreal. That night after everything was over she wandered around the house, unable to believe her aunt was gone. Not wanting to leave Joan alone Cindy stayed, but understood Joan's need for privacy. No matter how much she tried Joan just couldn't seem to pull herself out of her depression and her feeling of loss. Although the weather had turned chilly she felt the need for a walk, so she put on her jacket and headed out the back toward the woods. Without realizing it she found herself walking toward the place she'd first seen Sally Ann so many years ago.
When she reached the sport where they'd sat talking together, she sat down. The culmination of what she'd been through at Bonneville with Jon, and now losing her aunt, was almost more than she could stand. Unable to cope with her sorrow she wept uncontrollably. Distraught she called out to her aunt, then like the story she'd been told of how everything stopped, it did. It was silent beyond words, with no wind or sound of any kind. She was filled with trepidation as her eyes searched the woods. Then off in the distance she saw a young man and woman walking toward her, it was odd but there was something about the young couple that seemed familiar. As they neared she gasped, their before her was the Irishman who'd help to save her, and on closer look the young woman she now recognized was her aunt. Or rather how her aunt looked many years ago. She was radiant, and when she spread her arms, Joan ran to her. "Surin ya didn't think I'd be forgetin to come en say good-by, didja now?" Then Emily led Joan to a log where they sat to talked, she told Joan how much she loved her, and although she'd miss her, she'd been waitin for the day she could be with Jamie. She also reminded Joan they would never really be apart, and Joan would be able to talk to her whenever she needed to. Then she said it was time for her and Jamie to leave, but before she left she wanted Joan to know that Jon Rene needed release from his sorrow. He'd never found her letter telling him goodbye, and all these years his soul had wondered, unable to rest. His spirit still wandered Bonneville, she had to find a way to help him find the letter and the present Jon Rene would be the answer." Then she disappeared. The wind blew her hair and the night sounds were back, smiling Joan headed for the house. Her mind was at peace and her spirits high, she'd was sure everything would be alright now that she knew she'd always have her aunt.
She realized the answer to her dreams about Jon Rene, were somehow connected to the present Jon Rene.
After Jon had stormed out of the kitchen, he went into the library where he poured himself a drink. He figured his first course of action was to get as far away from Miss Joan Reynolds as possible. He ran upstairs got dressed and went to the museum. He opened the museum and set about preparing for the customary crowd. Mrs. Bernoch arrived a little before nine surprised to find him already there. He explained he had a lot of work to do, and did not wish to be disturbed. He went directly downstairs to his desk, where he tried to concentrate on work. No matter how he tried he couldn't stop thinking about last night, he closed his eyes allowing himself the memory of Joan's body and how they'd made love. He spent the day pacing and thinking. By closing time Mrs. Bernoch hadn't seen him all day, so she called down to be sure he was all right. After he'd assured her he was fine, she told him she was leaving and said goodnight. Jon sat brooding then went to his desk, and pulled out a bottle and poured himself a drink. In the morning Mrs. Bernoch saw Jon's car in the parking lot when she arrived, after letting herself in she went to the cellar door and yelled down. When her call woke him his head was throbbing, not wanting to let her know he'd been there all night he called up saying he'd come in early to get work done. He rubbed a hand over the stubble of his beard as he decided the best way to rid himself of his headache was the hair of the dog, so he poured himself another drink.
By the end of the day he was starting to smell rank, and he'd drunk all the liquor he had in the museum. Once Mrs. Bernoch locked up and left. Jon thought he'd stop for a quick drink at the Boar's Head. When he entered he tried to be inconspicuous by ducking into the nearest booth. Ponte had just filled another patrons glass when he saw Jon slip in, shocked at Jon's appearance he excused himself and walked over to him, "Jon, are you alright?"
"I've been better, and I could sure use a drink." Ponte went back to the bar and returned with a bottle. "Why don't I get you a cup of coffee? "I appreciate your concern, but all I want is a drink." Ponte shrugged and walked away. Jon sat and drank debating whether or not to go home, but considering his appearance and his need for a bath it seemed the decision was obvious. Just as he was about to leave Philippe, the elderly gentleman from the other night approached him. With a nod to Jon he excused himself for interrupting, but he thought Jon might be interested in something he'd just remembered. At the moment Jon was not really in the mood but not wanting to be rude he invited Philippe to join him, offering to buy him a drink. The old man declined claiming that he couldn't stay. Then he told Jon after their conversation he'd been thinking, he'd even talked to one of his friend who might have remembered something. Philippe's friend said the only other story he'd ever heard, was of a secret hiding place in Francois Jonell's home, where Jon Rene hid documents about the mysterious woman, he said with a shrug "That's all." Then he bid Jon goodbye, adding he hoped this might help him in some way. For a moment Jon considered this bit of information, but then thought it nonsense. He'd spent years searching, there was no way he would have missed finding it if there'd been something. Over the years he'd never run across anything that even remotely spoke of the mysterious woman, nor did he find any sort of documents. Almost ready to dismiss what he'd just learned, he felt a nagging somewhere inside. What if, for whatever reason, he'd somehow never found that one defining bit of information that had been driving him crazy for years? Skepticism played havoc with his mind at this latest bit of information, so he decided the best thing to do was go home. Then after he was completely sober he could make decisions. When he left the Boar's Head, he noticed it had started to rain. By the time he arrived at the Chateau it was raining heavily. He jumped out of his car and made a staggered dash for the door. As he fumbled around at the lock the front door it opened. Where he encountered a disapproving scowl, from his brother. "Alright Jon, what's going on? You look like hell, you've not been home in days, and you haven't even had the courtesy to call.
Mrs. Bernoch has been worried sick. She claims you've been drinking and hiding out in the basement." Avoiding his brother's glare, Jon stood with water dripped off the end of his nose, and listened to Mark tirade. Then he sheepishly asked if he could come in. Mark stepped aside to let him in.
Jon realized without the benefit of all the alcohol he'd consumed, he probably wouldn't have had the courage to speak to his brother. No matter what happened, he knew it was time to confess to his brother about what happened between him and Joan, and his feelings for her. He prayed somehow his brother in time would be able to forgive him. "Mark, please allow me to shower first, I think we need to have a serious talk."
"Fine you go shower, I'll make a pot of coffee." After Jon had showered and dressed, he headed downstairs, halfway down he heard Mark call out from the living room. When he entered the room, Mark was drinking a cup of coffee as he stood at the window watching the rain. His stomach knotted up picturing Marks reaction to being told, that he'd slept with Joan. What if Mark never forgave him? He poured himself a cup of coffee and walked over and stood next to him as they both watched the sky light up from the lightning.
"I'm sorry I made you worry." Jon said. Mark kept looking out the window as he spoke. "Jon, you've been acting so strange lately. It's almost as if I don't know you anymore. I've wanted to share my joy with you, but you seem to find every excuse to avoid me." A lump the size of a fist caught in Jon's throat. He was sure Mark was referring to his marriage to Joan, it was now or never Jon thought, turning to his brother. "Mark, I'm in love with Joan." From that point on his words poured out non stop. "I know you will hate me, and I can't blame you. Honestly I tried to fight it, but when she came to me she said my name and begged me to make love to her. I know I'm a cad for taking advantage of her sleepwalking but subconsciously I believe she loves me." When he finally paused, he held his breath waiting for his brother's reaction. Mark was looking at him with the most bewildered expression, "What in the world are you talking about?" .
Now it was Jon who looked confused. "Didn't you hear what I just said? I made love to the woman your going to marry." Marks eyes went wide in surprised, scratching his head he asked. "Where did you get the idea I was going to marry Joan?" Now totally bewildered Jon mumbled, "Why when you came back from the United States on Thanksgiving, all you talked about was how wonderful she was, you went on and on. Then that day I asked if you were planning on marrying, you said yes. Mark then started to laugh. .
"I was referring to Cindy." Mark said still laughing.
Shocked, "Who's Cindy?"
"The woman I intend to marry. Mark replied. Jon put down his cup of coffee, "I need something stronger to drink." Over the next hour Mark explained how Joan only wanted to be friends and how he'd fallen in love with Cindy. He laughed thinking how he'd never clarified Cindy was the woman he loved. Then it was Jon's turn, to explain how he and Joan became lovers, although it started during a sleepwalking trance, but he believed with all his heart she truly loved him. He went on to tell Mark of her strange behavior at the museum.
He hesitated for a moment when he recalled how he struck out verbally in anger, when he heard a laugh from Marks room believing it to be Joan. He could see it all in his mind, the look on her face, his voice full of regret when he spoke, "I'd better go to her, and try to explain." He said. Mark could see the remorse in his expression, and explained about Joan's aunt. "Will she be coming back?" Mark shrugged, "I don't really know? Cindy is going to call me tomorrow she'll have a better idea then." Mark told him. Jon thought about calling Joan, but after the way he'd treated her he felt the last thing she needed right then was to hear from him. He told Mark he'd see him later then he went up to his room. When he entered the room the only light was coming from the fire in the fireplace, feeling depressed he sat on a nearby stool and watched the flames lick at the air. Startled by the clap of thunder, Jon watched the lightning illuminate the room filling it with an eerie glow. When the lightning struck again the glow seemed to hover directly over the fireplace for a long while. Then the glow disappeared, and Jon's eyes went wide in disbelief. There before him standing in front of the fireplace, stood a man dressed in seventeenth century clothes. Then as quickly as he appeared, he disappeared. Jon hurriedly turned on the lights, after checking the bedroom and finding nothing he decided it must have been too much wine. Exhausted he fell asleep, with his words to Joan going over and over in his mind. While he slept he dreamt of the ghostly figure that appeared in his room. In his dream the man seemed to be searching for something. Jon couldn't see the man's face because his back was turned, but it was apparent he was frustrated by the way he threw things around. Jon heard the man's tortured voice call out a name, but no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to make it out. The rest of the night Jon slept restlessly, as bits and pieces of different dreams kept coming and going. He even had visions of Philippe the old man from the Boar's Head. Something the old man had said started running through his head. It had something to do with a hidden room, but finally the dreams stopped and Jon slept.