Lillian

Chapter 6

A/N

Hello lovelies! You know what time it is again. I could't bear to wait any longer to post this new chapter. Only one chapter remaining before the epilogue, then we'll have to say goodbye to dear Richard....and Lillian lol. Happy reading guys. Don't forget to vote, comment and share. 

Icy cold droplets of water trickled here and there from the ceiling of the dark cave from smooth, slender stalactites and a dank, dense air pervaded that almost put pressure on the lungs to breathe. Marcus had brought along a bottle torch fueled with kerosene and the flames from the fire, far from illuminating the darkness much, just sent writhing shadows on the rough walls as its meager light barely allowed them to see more than a few feet ahead. For a few minutes the going was hard as the cave narrowed and ascended and Lillian found herself having to grope along while taking Marcus' proffered hand in order to keep her balance. They didn't speak for she had done so some moments after entering the cave and her voice had echoed so menacingly that her heart had almost stopped in panic. The sound of their breathing was eerie enough but she longed to ask if they would soon get out of the cold, dark space. Suddenly the cave opened up and straight ahead they could see what looked like a huge wooden panel carefully constructed into the rocky wall ahead.

Marcus turned around to look at her and she held up the key. He nodded. She could feel an intense wave of excitement tinged with nervousness flooding her system and she walked up to the wall, seeing that there was a crude lock on the makeshift door. It was amazing how easily the key fitted and how easily the door opened considering that it had been locked for so many years. With an encouraging smile Marcus took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze.

"I'll be here when you come back out." He said and his voice echoed in the cavern like the voice of some higher being giving reassurance.

Seconds later and she stood in awe, facing her own image standing beside that of Richard Hawthorne's. Though she had not doubted Marcus' tale a weird feeling seeped into her on seeing her likeness in a painting that was over a hundred and fifty years old. Life like eyes peered down at her and she felt an unmistakable presence in the room that told her she was not alone.

"Help me to understand Richard." She whispered and closed her eyes, her heart thumping in joy as his voice echoed through her.

"You have come to me at last Lillian."

"I am here because I believe my darling," she replied and a slight sound behind her made her turn sharply, knowing and accepting that she would see him there.

Wild excitement shot through her making her gasp as she drank in his beautiful form with appreciative eyes. He was actually there! He was standing before her and the warmth in his eyes as they claimed every inch of her body and the smile that hovered at the corners of his lips pulled a vibrant yearning from deep within her core. She took a step towards him and he held out his hand to stop her.

"I cannot embrace you on this plain my angel...but I can take you back...only then will you understand" His hand just barely touched hers and instantaneously she felt as though she was being been pulled by some great and terrible unseen force. A slight fear gripped her and a seeping coldness claimed her as she experienced an eerie light headedness that made her swoon decisively. As suddenly as the strange feeling had started it stopped and breathless, her head reeling, she glanced around her and found herself in a large bright bedroom with a huge four poster bed and heavy drapes drawn back to let in the sunlight. The room and everything in it was blatantly familiar and she looked around her with a strange mixture of awe and acceptance.

Richard was still there but he was not holding her hand anymore. He was lying in the bed with his eyes half closed. The covers were drawn up to his waist and except for a large but neatly wrapped bandage on his shoulder his torso was bare. He didn't acknowledge her presence and somehow she wasn't the least bit surprised. She was there and yet she wasn't: a spectre looking into a world that had long passed. Though a little pale he looked beautiful and her eyes swept slowly over the contours of his bare chest and the tautness of his abdomen. His body was an intimately familiar sight to her and she gasped softly as the images of them making love on the beach invaded her head. A loud knock broke her chain of thoughts and caused him to look through her towards the door as a much older version of Richard, it seemed, stepped into the room.