Storm's End Page 13

  Idly, she gazed out across the lawn. In the distance was the peacock and she watched in admiration as he spread his splendid green plummage. But then some movement caught from the corner of her eye distracted her and she glanced toward the house. Suddenly her heart lurched, for coming across the lawn toward them was Blaise.

  He waved when he saw her looking in his direction. Julie waved back and something in his expression held her gaze. She could not have looked elsewhere had she wanted to. The warmth of his smile snatched at her breath and sent a little thrill of pleasure racing through her veins.

  By the time he reached them, the others had also spotted him and Blaise greeted them all in a general fashion.

  "When did you get in, son?" Andrew asked.

  "Just a few minutes ago," Blaise replied. "I only stopped long enough to tell Ruth 'hello' before coming to find you."

  "How was your trip?"

  "Successful," he answered. "And things around here? Everything going okay?" he asked, his gaze traveling from one face to another.

  Bobby bounded to his feet. "Come see the rabbit hutch me'n Tony built, Blaise."

  "Would you like a glass of lemonade?" Julie asked tentatively before the boys carried him off.

  "Love one." He smiled at her and once again there was an inexplicable something in his expression that tugged at her senses.

  Julie stood up, then glanced over at her grandfather. "Need a refill, Grandpa?" she asked.

  Andrew held out his glass with a nod of assent and, as Julie turned to go, she found Blaise staring at her with open surprise. "Grandpa?" He mouthed the word so that though she understood the question, the others did not hear.

  Julie just smiled sweetly at him and, without answering, headed toward the house. It would do him good, she decided, to wonder what had been going on during his absence. She grinned to herself as she went into the kitchen.

  When she stepped outside with a laden tray for the second time that afternoon, Blaise was waiting for her. He had shed his suit jacket, his tie and had opened his collar and rolled his sleeves up almost to his elbows and now he lounged indolently beside the back door. "Need a little help?" he asked as he straightened upright.

  Julie shook her head and took a step past him. "I can manage."

  Blaise took the tray from her grasp anyway and fell into step beside her. "So it's 'Grandpa' now, is it?" he asked conversationally. "How did that miracle come about?"

  Shrugging her shoulders, Julie answered in the same casual tone. "No miracle. I just got fed up saying 'sir' all the time."

  Blaise grinned at her and there was a devilish light dancing about in those deep brown eyes. "Is that so? There's hope for you, yet. Now that you've got that one mastered, you can practice saying 'darling Blaise.'"

  "Oh, I can, can I?" Julie's voice was tart. "And can you give me one good reason why I should even want to?" She could only pray that he could not actually hear the thudding of her heart. He was only teasing, after all.

  The grin on his face stretched, revealing the whiteness of his teeth against the bronze tone of his face. "Well, you are my wife," he reasoned, "and I've heard it said that some wives actually call their husbands by that name. Tell me, wife… did you miss me while I was gone?"

  "Well," Julie laughed, "maybe this much." She indicated a quarter-inch space measurement between her forefinger and her thumb. There was nothing in the world that could have induced her to tell him exactly how much she had missed him, how empty each day had been or how bright this day had suddenly become.

  Blaise shook his head in mock despair. "You really know how to boost a guy's ego, all right."

  The boys had wandered away somewhere and now as they joined Andrew where he still sat beneath the tree, he had obviously overheard the last part of their conversation, because he asked, "Does your ego require boosting, son?"

  Blaise chuckled. "If it does, I'm sure looking in the wrong place to have it done. It just got booted, not boosted."

  "Julie took you down a peg or two, hmm?" Her grandfather laughed. "Maybe it's good for you. She did the same thing to me, too, when we first met, remember? Told me right to my face she didn't want to take after the Barclays in any way whatsoever. Now that's a comedown, let me tell you!"

  Julie's face reddened as she, too, recalled some of the awful things she had said to him. Blaise had been right about her being hard-boiled and unforgiving and now she was ashamed of the way she had behaved. "Please forget it, Grandpa," she begged now. "I'm really sorry for all those terrible things I said to you."

  The old man laughed. "It's all right, girl," he said mildly. "Actually, I had it coming. You and Ruth have had to forgive a lot more than a few angry words, but it's all over now, in the past and it's the present that counts. We're a family now. That's the important thing."

  If his words had needed anything to prove them true, that evening they were fully justified. When they gathered in the living room as usual before dinner, Sarah Lejeune had a surprise for them. Seated beside her on the sofa, looking incredibly youthful and lovely in a long silky blue dress that matched her eyes, was Ruth Wilder.

  "Mom!" Bobby squealed as he raced across the room to her. "What're you doing downstairs?"

  Ruth's eyes sparkled like a sun-kissed lake as she hugged her son. "I plan to have dinner with you if it's ail right with all of you," she teased.

  "All right?" Andrew, moved slowly toward her and his face was beaming as he gazed down at her. "I'd say it's a lot more than all right. We're absolutely delighted, Ruth. And may I add that you're looking very beautiful tonight?"

  "Thank you, Andrew."

  Julie stood near the door just watching. Her throat was choked and her eyes stung. She blinked hard to hold back the tears and suddenly a strong arm went around her waist. "I take it all back," Blaise whispered close to her ear. "You're not at all the hard-boiled female I thought you were." He gave her a tiny, encouraging shake and added, "Now, get a grip on yourself and join the celebration."

  And that was exactly what it was. Throughout dinner, while they enjoyed Mrs. Landry's excellent courtbouillon, there was a party atmosphere. The table glittered with the best china and silver on a snowy white linen cloth and the conversation sparkled with champagne smiles and happy topics. It was indeed a red-letter evening for them all, even before Mrs. Landry presented her grand finale, proving beyond doubt that she had received advance notice of the otherwise carefully kept secret. She brought in a cake which bore the inscription, Congratulations, Ruth!

  They were lingering at the table over their dessert when Clive arrived. If he still harbored any animosity toward his uncle from the morning, it was not apparent tonight. He greeted everyone in general, offered his own congratulations when he saw Ruth and, accepting a slice of cake, sat down to join them.

  "How was the trip?" he asked Blaise, who sat across the table from him.

  Blaise shrugged. "All right. And things at the plant?"

  Now it was Clive's turn to shrug. "So-so. Did Uncle Andy tell you we received a new offer from Wyndover?"

  Blaise frowned. "No, he didn't. When was this?"

  "Yesterday afternoon. I told Uncle Andy about it this morning." Now he glanced down the length of the table to Andrew, who sat at the end. "I'm going to have to give them an answer by the first of next week, and we'll never get a better offer."

  "We can discuss it at the board meeting on Friday," Andrew said firmly.

  "But, Uncle Andy…" Clive began.

  He was cut off by a severe frown from Andrew. "Tonight we are celebrating Ruth's joining us and I don't intend to spoil it with business. This is neither the time nor the place for it."

  Clive pressed his lips together in obvious anger and exasperation, but he did not push the matter any further.

  A few minutes later, they all returned to the living room to have their coffee. Only Bobby departed, not being interested in adult conversation for an entire evening.

  Julie poured the coffee and passed it around, then se
ttled back against the sofa cushions beside her mother. While the talk flowed around her, she wondered idly when she had ever been happier than she was at this moment. It had been a wonderful day. There was this new closeness and understanding between herself and her grandfather, her mother's proof that she was indeed well on the road to complete recovery and Blaise had come home. Now her dark lashes swept up and she glanced across at him and caught him watching her. A slow smile spread across his face and it sent a warm glow through her as she responded with a smile of her own.

  The doorbell rang, jolting them all, and when Blaise got up to go answer it, Julie's heart plummeted. Once again, she had forgotten Rosalind, and she was certain that that was who had arrived. After all, Blaise had just returned from a trip and the other woman was bound to be anxious to see him tonight.

  She was so positive that the visitor was Rosalind York that when Blaise returned with the unexpected guest, Julie could only stare in mute astonishment.

  "Hello, Julie," the familiar voice said cheerfully. "Are you surprised to see me?"

  Though rendered speechless, some part of Julie's brain registered the fact that Duane Sutton looked extremely handsome tonight. He wore dark slacks and a cream-colored sports shirt and his rusty-toned hair still fell in its boyish wave across his forehead. His green eyes glinted like emeralds. In fact, they glinted almost too brightly, Julie thought, and she sensed that though he was smiling, there was an odd, strained tension about him.

  "Wh-what are you doing here?" she finally managed to ask.

  "You know why I'm here," Duane told her in a reproachful voice. "To be with you." His voice lowered a notch to a more intimate level. "I've missed you."

  Julie was sharply aware of the compelling interest of the others in the room and her face reddened with embarrassment and consternation. "Er, Duane, let me introduce you to everyone," she stammered.

  As she did so, she noticed various reactions to Duane's unexpected arrival. Her grandfather, while he shook hands with Duane, most obviously disapproved. There was a deep frown creasing the skin above the bridge of his nose. Clive was politely welcoming and appeared amused; Sarah smiled and looked interested; Blaise's face was tightly closed and unreadable, like a book on a shelf. Only Ruth seemed to accept Duane's presence with both a lack of surprise and complete equanimity.

  "How are you, Mrs. Wilder?" Duane asked, smiling. "You look completely recovered from your illness."

  Ruth smiled placidly. "Well, close to it, anyway. Won't you have a seat, Duane? How are you and how is your family?"

  Duane sat down in the chair beside her, and leaned toward her in an eager manner, as though he had been unsure of his welcome. "The folks are fine," he told her, "and so am I. Except that I couldn't do without Julie any longer."

  Julie's color deepened and this time it was with as much anger as embarrassment. Duane had coldly broken their engagement and now he was behaving just as though nothing had ever happened. She opened her mouth to give him some sort of a set-down, but before she could speak, her grandfather did instead.

  "Are you the young man my granddaughter used to be engaged to?" he demanded bluntly.

  "That's right, sir," Duane said readily. "And still am," he added, throwing a meaningful smile at Julie.

  "That isn't true and you know it!" Julie gasped.

  For the second time, Julie had the sudden impression that Duane was not, perhaps, quite so assured as he appeared. Duane lowered his gaze to Julie's knotted fists in her lap and said in a low voice, "I admit we've had some problems, Julie, but I'm sure we can work things out. Is there some place we can go and talk alone?"

  "How long are you planning to stay?" Andrew Barclay suddenly asked.

  Duane shrugged. "I took my two-week vacation leave, but I'll stay here forever if it's what Julie wants."

  Andrew gave a mirthless laugh. "I don't know about forever, but since you're here, I suppose we can put you up for a few days. Clive, will you go tell Mrs. Landry to prepare a guest bedroom, please?" As Clive stood up to leave the room, Andrew added to Julie, "It might be a good idea if you took your… ahem… friend," his voice growled, "into the study where you can conduct a private conversation."

  Julie had no desire to hold a private conversation with her ex-fiancé, but on the other hand, he had already said more than enough in front of everyone else. She rose and went toward the room, being very careful not to look in Blaise's direction, although she could actually feel the heat of his gaze boring into her skin.

  As soon as they were inside the study and the door closed, Julie whirled angrily to face Duane. "Why did you say all those things in there?" she demanded.

  "Why not?" Duane countered. "Everything I said was true. Julie, I can't do without you anymore." His voice was husky as he came slowly toward her. "I've missed you terribly and I want to marry you more than anything in the world. Tomorrow, if you say the word."

  Julie laughed shrilly and stepped backward, holding out her hands to ward off an embrace. "You couldn't have missed me too much," she snapped. "You never bothered to write or call."

  Duane's eyes widened. "How could I? I didn't know where you had gone. You had never said anything to me about a grandfather or moving to Louisiana. If I hadn't met Ann in the drugstore one day, I'd still be in the dark." Now he opened his arms wide. "Come on, Julie, let's forget the past, hmm? I was wrong to ever let you out of my life and I don't intend to make the same mistake again. Right now I want to kiss you and put your engagement ring back on your finger where it belongs."

  But it was too late for that, Julie thought darkly. Another man had already placed his own brand upon her hand. But even if that were not so, she knew that something was missing. The sight of Duane had not caused the slightest fluttering in her breast. She had been only shocked to see him, not thrilled. "No!" she said sharply. "I don't want you to kiss me and I don't want to resume our engagement. Your mistake was in coming here, Duane. It was a wasted journey."

  Duane dropped his arms to his sides. "I was afraid you'd be difficult. You always were a bit hard-headed. Listen, Julie, I'm really sorry that I ever broke off with you, but even when I did, it wasn't that I didn't love you, but only that I couldn't see how we could handle everything." He shrugged. "I thought I needed a business of my own. Well, that didn't pan out, but it's not as important to me as it once was. And now that your mother is practically well again there's no problem there, either, so there's nothing to keep us apart any longer. I know you can't have forgotten what we meant to each other any more than I can, so I give you fair warning right now, before my vacation is over, I intend to win you back again." Now he smiled and spoke in a lighter tone. "I won't pressure you anymore tonight. Just sleep on it. And in the meantime, do you suppose you could find me a sandwich? I didn't have any dinner tonight because I was so anxious to get here to see you."

  They returned to the living room where Julie left him while she went to the kitchen to make sandwiches. When she returned, it was to discover that both her mother and grandfather had gone off to bed. While Blaise sat smoking quietly, Clive and Duane seemed to be hitting it off, for they were talking on quite a friendly basis.

  Julie was glad when Clive went away at last and the evening could come to an end. The three of them went up the stairs together and Julie and Blaise paused outside the first room beside the landing and showed Duane inside.

  After Duane's door closed, Julie and Blaise made their way in silence down the rest of the corridor toward their own rooms. But just as they reached Blaise's door, he reached out and touched Julie's elbow. "Come in for a minute," he said in a low voice. "I want to talk to you."

  Julie considered rebelling. She was tired, she was upset and the last thing she wanted just now was another scene. But one glance at Blaise's grim face doused the little flame of resistance. Rebellion would not only be futile, but foolhardy. He was angry, there could be no doubting that. His coal-dark eyes smoldered and there was an unyielding set to his granite-hard jaw and mouth.
/>   Wordlessly, she preceded him into his room and, while he closed the door, her gaze swept around, noting the solid colonial pine furnishings, the patchwork bedcover, the shuttered windows. It was the first time she had ever been inside Blaise's bedroom and now she thought fleetingly that it fitted his personality… sturdy, dependably functional and utterly without pretense. Even though they rarely got along together for more than a few minutes at a time, one thing she could say for sure… she always knew where she stood with him.

  And right now, her standing was not high, judging by the way he was looking at her. Julie attempted a nonchalance she was far from feeling. "What did you want to talk about?" she asked. "I'm really tired and I want to get to bed, so make it quick, will you?"

  "Did you invite him here?" Blaise asked in a flat voice.

  Julie's eyes widened. "Duane? You know I didn't! I was never more shocked in my life than when…"

  "All right." Blaise cut her off impatiently. "I'll admit you certainly seemed surprised, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt about it. But what I really want to know is are you making things up with him?"

  "How can I?" she countered. "I'm married, remember?" She turned her back to him.

  Blaise's voice was low and controlled. "Are you still in love with him?"

  Julie turned to face him once again and her eyes were sparkling with indignation. "What right do you have to question me?" she flared. "I could ask the same question of you concerning Rosalind! It's none of your business." All at once her shoulders drooped and all the fight went out of her. "It really doesn't matter anyway, does it?" she murmured. "Not as long as we're tied to each other."

  And it was true. The situation was still the same. They were married and unless Blaise decided to break the bargain, it did not matter that he loved someone else. As for herself, she had realized tonight quite positively that she no longer cared about Duane. Apparently her feelings for him had never run as deeply as she had supposed, so in a way her grandfather's hard bargain had probably saved her from a lifetime of unhappiness. But she had no intentions at this moment of admitting as much to Blaise. He had never made any secret of how he felt about Rosalind and now, in a perverse way, she was pleased that Duane had shown up, even though she no longer wanted him. But at least by his coming, it had proven that she was not so unappealing that no man wanted her. It was a balm to her pride and she clung to it tenaciously.