Looking down the hallway, he could understand why his cousin was frightened - the darkness seemed to enshroud Collinwood in mysterious shadows and he could clearly remember all the times he'd awakened in the night as a  child. Calling for Edward or Judith had never helped allay his fears; all they would tell him was that he was being ridiculous because there was no such thing as monsters. He'd spent more than one terror filled night lying awake with the blankets pulled up to his chin, utterly convinced that a three-headed dragon would come out from under the bed and attack him.
  Only the pale moonlight that filtered into the hallway from a solitary window  had calmed her enough to bring her to him, and that irony wasn't lost on Quentin. If the moon could be a beacon of hope for a scared little girl, why did it have to constantly remind him of his eternal damnation?
  Desperately wanting to forget his pain, Quentin picked her up and carried her to her room, promising her that he'd make all the monsters go away.  Once there, he made a show of looking under the bed, in the closet, and underneath a pile of stuffed animals that were carelessly thrown in the corner.  Once she was satisfied that she was safe, Arianna climbed back into bed and laid down, letting Quentin tuck the blankets tightly around her.
  He sat beside her for a moment, reluctant to leave, and was startled when she suddenly sat up and hugged him tightly, whispering, "I'm sorry that you're so sad, Quentin."
  "Who… who told you that I'm sad, Ari?" he asked, stunned that she could have known what he was feeling. He'd always kept to himself, never telling anyone not even his own family the truth of his existence because it was too dangerous to share with others. Nobody knew the real reason he'd never married or had a family; how could Arianna know something was wrong? She was only six years old...
  "Nobody did. I can just tell. Your eyes seem so sad--what's wrong?"
  Quentin sat silently holding her for what felt like an eternity as he tried to figure out how to tell her the truth. He so wanted to talk about Beth, to keep her memory alive, but would his cousin understand any of it?
  "Well I am a little bit sad tonight, princess. I was just thinking of someone I lost a long time ago… someone I loved very much. Sometimes I just get a little lonely when I think about how much I miss her..."
  "Oh… was she your wife?" Arianna's question brought tears to his eyes, but Quentin was too astounded by her perception not to continue. It almost seemed as though their souls had some sort of special connection, something that he couldn't explain, but whatever their bond, it made her seem far older and wiser than she really was.
  "No, but I wanted her to be. We had a lot of problems, grown-up problems, that kept us apart. But I loved her very much."
  "And she died?"
  "Yes darling, she died… there was a terrible accident, and there was no way for us to save Beth. I was just thinking about her tonight, during the party. I suppose that seeing you with your mother and father made me miss her even more because she always wanted a family." A single tear slipped down his cheek and he quickly brushed it away, not wanting to upset Arianna any further. She seemed to somehow understand though, and took his hand as she laid back down, patting it gently as if to reassure him that he'd be all right.
  "It's okay if you cry Quentin...my daddy cried when Grandma Liz died."
  "You remember that? You were only three years old!"
  "Yes, I remember. And sometimes I still cry when I think about her. It's okay that you miss Beth. Besides, you're my best friend. I promise I'll take care of you."
  "Would you mind if I stayed here until you fall asleep again, princess?" he whispered, overwhelmed by her understanding and compassion.
  "Of course you can," she yawned. "It will keep the monsters away."
  He sat up against the headboard, watching silently as Arianna huddled under the blankets. The purity of her innocence reminded him so much of Beth that he could sometimes swear that his love had found a way to come back to him. Of course, he knew that was impossible, and that Arianna looked like Carolyn, and not Beth, but it was a comfort just the same. Quentin leaned back, meaning only to rest for a while until his cousin fell asleep, but the warmth of the brandy and the strength of his emotions had exhausted him, and he gave in to what he was feeling. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep sitting up, and lost himself in the darkness of his dreams, his hand still tightly clasped in Arianna's tiny one.
  Neither of them were awake to notice that someone was watching over them, her ethereal tears pooling into a single yellow rose as they fell silently at her feet.

Intermezzo…

  The nightmare began, as it always did, on the beach below Widow's Hill. Quentin was walking, alone, through a misty fog and could see nothing before him when suddenly, a plaintive sob echoed from the cliffs.
  "Quentin help me! Please don't leave me here!"
He knew he had to find her, to save her from her dark destiny, but he didn't know where to look and tears of  frustration filled his eyes, further obstructing his vision.  "Where are you Beth? I don't know where to find you!"
  He panicked, knowing that if he couldn't help her, she'd be lost to him forever, but how could he protect her if he didn't know where she was? The breakers crashed along the sand, their ceaseless thunder echoing the fearful pounding of his heart as he searched endlessly for her, feeling as though he was merely moving in circles; it wasn't until he stopped to catch his breath that Quentin noticed the horror that laid in the sand beneath his feet.
  The tidal line was flecked with foamy bubbles, but instead of the pearly white ones that topped the waves, they were crimson red. The color of blood…Beth's blood. He followed the ghastly trail away from the sea to the rocks that jutted like dragon claws from the ground, and as the rising moon parted the fog, Quentin watched his future die before him. There on the rocks that loomed before him, Beth lay like a sacrificial lamb on a pagan altar - her head was turned away from him at a nearly impossible angle and her body was draped limply over the rocks, as if she'd been nothing more than a rag doll that had been carelessly tossed from the cliff.
  Climbing to her, Quentin ignored the pain that lanced through his hands and knees as the rocks cut into his flesh, and when he reached her, he took her in his arms, but there was nothing familiar about her. Nothing met his embrace except the chill of death. "Beth, honey," he sobbed, "please try to stay with me."
  But he was too late - her once beautiful body was nothing more than a mess of broken bones and her eyes, which had once reflected her love for him, were dulled by death. Barely breathing, Quentin held her close, an eternity of silent regret blossoming in the moonlight, his tears falling upon her cheeks as he closed her eyes and brushed a final kiss across her bloodstained lips.
  Suddenly the scene changed and Quentin was in his room, the gramophone playing the plaintive music which had once been Beth's favorite song. He went to the window, knowing somehow that she'd find a way to come back to him, but this time, when she returned, it was only to condemn him.
  "Quentin," she cried, "why didn't you come for me? I waited for you and you never came to me...why did you leave me there alone?"
  "Beth, I tried to help you, but I couldn't find you!" he explained, his words sounding hollow as he spoke them. He could have saved her long ago if he'd taken her away from Collinwood, away from her pain that their relationship had caused her, but he hadn't. And now it was too late. He reached out to Beth to wipe away her tears, but her image shattered beneath his touch, leaving him eternally alone...

To be continued...

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