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With relief, she found the door and went inside the house. She went swiftly down the hall toward the stairs, but just as she reached the bottom step, the study door opened and she heard her name.
"Julie," Blaise said. "I was just coming to get you. I feel, after all, that you should be included in this discussion."
"Not now," she mumbled without turning to face him. "I've got a headache and I'm going up to bed." And dear God, she spoke the truth, she thought desperately. Her head was pounding violently in reaction to the shock that Rosalind had dealt her.
"It will only take a minute," Blaise said implacably. "Sutton and I both want…"
Now Julie whirled to glare at him. "I don't care what either of you wants!" she said shrilly.
Blaise's eyes narrowed and in two broad strides, he was in front of her and he reached out and put both his hands on her arms. "Now just what is eating you?" he demanded.
Julie jerked herself free of him like a fighting wildcat. "Don't ever touch me again!" she hissed at him. "Not ever, do you hear? I hate you! I hate you!"
Now she turned and ran up the stairs, away from him and toward the safety of her own room. And once the door was closed behind her, the tears at last spilled over. "I hate you, Blaise Richard," she whispered raggedly, again and again. And she only wished that it was true.
Chapter Nine
By morning the headache had only intensified. Julie gulped down a couple of more aspirins and gazed morosely at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. There were faint blue smudges beneath her smoky gray eyes, testifying to a sleepless night.
Listlessly, she dressed in a Coral pink skirt and blouse and then she frowned at the way the bright color overpowered her pale face. She could not remember a time she had looked quite so awful. She attempted to rectify the problem with makeup, but the blush she rubbed on her cheeks looked like two bright spots painted on a clown's face against the stark whiteness of her skin and after a moment she scrubbed it off.
Her steps were slow and halting as she went downstairs and through the hall. She had no appetite at all, but she knew if she did not make an appearance at breakfast, it would only cause an unwelcome interest that she could well do without.
The breakfast room was empty, so she went back through the hall and out into the brilliantly glaring sunlight on the patio. At the table there sat her grandfather and Blaise. Julie's shoulders tensed at the sight of Blaise, whose back was turned to her.
As though he could feel her gaze upon him, Blaise turned to look at her. There was an assessing quality in his eyes, a somber expression on his face. For an endless time, their glances held as though they were under some ancient Voodoo gris-gris spell that had long been practiced in Louisiana by blacks and whites alike. Julie was bound by the magnetism of his gaze and by the conflicting emotions that churned in her breast.
She both loved and hated this man. Just now, as her senses drank in his every feature, the chiseled lines of his face, the coffee-colored eyes, the way the sunlight cast a reddish tint to his dark hair, she yearned to be able to reach out, to touch him. Many times they had argued and fought and yet despite all that, he had managed to capture her heart. It had been impossible not to feel drawn to a man who could be so kind and thoughtful as he had been when he joined her in Houston at a time when she had badly needed moral support; she had been touchingly aware of his firm commitment toward making Bobby feel welcomed and secure in a new home; she had not been left unmoved by his devotion to his stepfather in spite of the fact that he had as much reason to resent the old man as she had when he forced this unwanted marriage upon them.
At the same time, she hated Blaise for his cruel duplicity. Many times he had shown her quite plainly that he wanted her physically, but when he had finally gotten what he wanted, he was abruptly through with her. The night he had held her in his arms and made love to her had been for Julie the beginning of the very meaning of her existence, but for Blaise it had only meant the end. Because the very next day he had proposed to Rosalind. Would the pain, the deep shame of that ever be banished from her mind, she wondered bleakly.
"Good morning," Andrew said cheerfully, suddenly breaking the tenuous thread that had bound the other two.
Julie pulled her gaze away from Blaise's face and managed a smile for the older man. "Morning, Grandpa." She walked around the table, dropped a light kiss on his forehead and sat down beside him. "Where is everyone else?" she asked without any real curiosity.
"Bobby's already had his breakfast and he's off feeding his zoo," her grandfather chuckled. "Sarah carried her tray upstairs so she could eat with Ruth."
"And Duane?" Julie inquired, suddenly remembering him.
Now Andrew frowned. "He drove off in a huff a little while ago, but no doubt he'll be back soon."
"In a huff?" Now he had Julie's total attention. "What about?"
Andrew shrugged and shot an expressive glance toward Blaise before answering. "He asked me this morning about giving him a management position at the plant. I told him it was up to Blaise. Blaise had already refused him last night, of course, although I didn't know it at the time." Suddenly he cleared his throat and his gaze was clear and direct as he met Julie's eyes. "It's time for a bit of plain speaking around here, Julie. Tell me, do you seriously care about this man? Do you want to marry him?"
Although he had not yet spoken a word, Julie felt rather than saw Blaise stiffen as he waited to hear her answer. Even the very stillness of the heavy morning air seemed hushed and expectant. Not a leaf on a tree was stirring, net a bird was chirping. There was only a waiting silence.
For a long time, Julie did not answer. She stared blindly at her plate, wondering what to say. After Rosalind's announcement last night, her pride desperately wanted to say yes, that she did love Duane. But it would have been a lie, and in the end she could not do it.
"No," she said in a low voice, "I don't love Duane and I don't wish to marry him."
"Then I didn't make a serious mistake by forcing you to marry Blaise?" he asked.
Julie's head jerked up at that and soft color stole into her cheeks. "Yes," she said firmly, "it was a mistake, Grandpa. Blaise is in love with Rosalind, don't you see? He wants to be free to marry her. Besides, even if he didn't, you can't expect two people to be happy tied to each other when they aren't in love."
Once again she could feel the tension in Blaise as it communicated itself to her, but she could not bring herself to look at him. With strict care, she kept her gaze firmly on her grandfather.
Andrew Barclay sighed heavily as his piercing gaze shifted from Julie to Blaise. "I have one more question," he said after a lengthy pause. "Is there any possibility of the two of you ever coming to care for one another?"
Julie's laugh was shrill. "I just told you, Grandpa. Blaise loves Rosalind. No," she added crisply, "I can state quite definitely that there is no possibility of that happening in the future." Which was true, she told herself bitterly. It had already happened to her, but that was a secret that would remain locked inside of her for the rest of her life because Blaise did not share her feelings and never would.
There was a stiff, awkward little silence and then the old man said questioning, "Blaise?"
Blaise laughed too, but the sound was harsh and unamused and in spite of herself, it drew Julie's eyes to his face. There were harsh lines dug into his face at the corners of his mouth and the lips themselves were colorless. "I defer to whatever the lady says," he said in a metallic voice.
"I see." Andrew glanced away from them both now, toward the long stretch of lawn that led to the bayou hidden behind the trees.
He seemed to lose himself in thought for an interminable time, but just when Julie had decided that he did not intend to speak on the subject again, he said in a husky, emotion-thickened voice, "I apologize to both of you. You told me once, Julie, that I was trying to play God with people's lives and you were right. And it's brought only disaster to the very ones I love most." He laughed shortly, and it w
as filled with self-contempt. "They say there's no fool like an old fool and that means me. But…" He rose ponderously to his feet, as though he weighed a thousand pounds and now his eyes softened as he glanced down at them. "At least this time the situation can be rectified. Fortunately, no one knows about your marriage, so there won't be a lot of tedious explanations to make to anyone. It should be easy enough for you to put through an annulment since you haven't lived together as man and wife, and I assure you this will not affect your stock ownership of the company. On Friday I will still announce the changeover as planned." He nodded briskly, adding, "I'm going up to visit Ruth now," and walked away.
Julie was paralyzed by this latest shock in a series of shocks, and now she stared at a potted miniature rosebush near the table. But her eyes did not see or appreciate its shell-pink blossoms. Her mind was attempting to assimilate the fact that she was free. Free now to live her own life as she wished.
"Julie?"
Almost dazed, she turned her head toward the soft voice and Blaise's face swam into her blurred vision. If she had thought his face appeared somber before, it had been nothing compared to the stark gravity that marked it now.
She was quivering inside and one hand went up to nervously smooth back her hair. In a desperate effort at normalcy, she laughed. "Well," her voice came out more shaken than she liked, "that was a nice surprise, wasn't it?"
Blaise's hand suddenly covered hers on the table between them and there was a stern intensity in his eyes. "It's hardly a laughing matter," he said grimly.
Julie shrugged and glanced away, struggling to hold back tears that threatened to give her away. She would not cry, she told herself fiercely. She would not!
"Julie," Blaise's low voice was compelling, "is a divorce what you really want?"
Her eyes were wide as she looked toward him again in astonishment. "Is… is it what I want?" she parroted incredulously. "Of course it is! It's what we both want."
"Is it?" There was a curiously fiat note to the words, but Julie had no time to dwell on it before he added, "You know of course that Dad's suggestion of an annulment isn't possible."
Heat stung her cheeks and burned its way through her veins until her entire body was on fire. She snatched her hand away from his and rose swiftly, hatred so intense within her that she thought she might suffocate. Why did he enjoy taunting her so, she wondered bitterly, reminding her of the night they had shared together, the night that had meant nothing at all to him?
"Yes!" she cried out. "I want a divorce! And the sooner the better. Perhaps if I'm lucky, I can see a lawyer today."
Purposefully, her legs carried her with speed across the patio and into the dim coolness of the hall. She would, she decided, go straight to the study and make a few phone calls. The first lawyer who would see her today would get her business!
So intent was she on her own thoughts that she never heard Blaise enter the house behind her or his footsteps as they followed her. Only once she was inside the study and turned to close the door was she aware of his presence. He was close behind her and there was an unmistakable anger glittering in his eyes.
He grabbed her roughly and pulled her close to him with bonecrushing ferociousness. "Why do you want a divorce?" he asked hoarsely. "Is it so you can marry Sutton in spite of what you told Dad?"
"No!" Julie gasped, struggling to get free of him, but his hold only tightened more painfully, like the twisting of a chain. "I don't want any man! Not ever!"
Blaise's laugh came from low in his throat, sounding more like a growl than amusement. "So you really are an iceberg, after all," he snarled, "even though you put on a good act the night you slept with me."
"Maybe I am," she hissed back. She would have died before admitting what that night had meant to her. "But at least I've been more honest with Duane than you have with Rosalind!"
His eyes were mere dark slits as he glared at her. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't you?" Julie's smile was filled with scornful disbelief. "At least I told Duane I wouldn't marry him, but you… you actually proposed to Rosalind while you're still married to me! Don't you think you owe her the truth?"
All at once, Blaise went very still and as he did, Julie pulled herself free of his grasp. She backed away, bumped into the desk and stopped, nursing a sore spot on her upper arm that would, she knew, shortly turn into a bruise. But there was such an odd expression in Blaise's eyes as they continued to hold hers that she, too, was suddenly stilled.
"Here you are!" Clive's voice knifed the atmosphere between them, slicing in two the rope of tense emotion that had held them tied.
Almost like a slow-motion movie, as though they were actors who had just received their cues, Julie and Blaise came to life. Masks lowered over their faces, covering the raw, quivering passions that had been exposed. Blaise reached into his shirt pocket for a cigarette. Julie pasted a smile to her lips.
Clive entered the room, followed by Duane and it was apparent at once that both men were angry. "It's time we had this out," Clive told Blaise in a hard voice. "You're being obstinate as well as downright foolish not to give Duane a position with the company. He has a management background that can be valuable to us in addition to the fact that he'll soon be a part of the family. I insist you hire him, Blaise. At once!"
Slowly, Blaise's thick eyebrows rose in an attitude of surprise. "That's funny," he said very calmly. "I could have sworn Julie said she had no intentions of marrying Sutton." He took a long drag on his cigarette as he watched Duane.
A dull red stole up Duane's neck and into his face and there was a furious glitter sparkling in his green eyes. "That's only because Julie is being temperamental as girls will." Obviously struggling with his anger, he shrugged and added, "You know how women are. Anyway, we'll soon have that all straightened out and then we'll be married. And as her husband I will have a right to a position with the company in order to protect her interest after she receives her shares of the stock."
Julie's eyes darkened with a swift flash of anger over Duane's insufferable arrogance. It was one thing for him to say those things to her in private. That hadn't mattered because she could easily shrug it off, but to say them to Blaise and Clive just as though she could not speak for herself, had no right to make up her own mind, was quite another matter! Her lips parted, but before she could speak, she was silenced by a curt slashing of Blaise's hand through the air.
"And once she has this stock that you're so certain she'll receive," he said questioningly, "you would naturally advise her to vote with Clive on the matter of going with Wyndover?"
"I think so, yes," Duane retorted. "It will mean more money for Julie ultimately and it will be a progressive step forward for the company."
"And what makes you so sure Julie is to receive a large share of the stock any time soon?" Blaise asked with deceptive innocence.
"Because Uncle Andy hinted as much to me," Clive snapped impatiently. "It's only fair to Julie, after all. I have a feeling he will give it to her on Friday when we have the stockholder's meeting. The point is, Uncle Andy is obviously senile now. He's too old to be making vital decisions that affect the company, and I really think that after Julie gets her share we need to make a move to have him declared legally incompetent. The court can name one of us as guardian of his remaining shares."
Blaise's face darkened as he asked with swift incredulity, "Do you honestly believe I'd go along with any such move and not fight you?"
"You'd look like a fool if you did," Clive snapped, "going against Julie, her husband and me."
"That's right," Duane said and his lips were curled into a sneer. "I imagine the courts would be more inclined to back blood relatives rather than a grasping stepson who's only looking after his own selfish interests."
Julie's head spun dizzily. She could not believe she had heard what had just been said. And yet, it must be true because Duane still stood there with a self-satisfied smirk on his face; Clive still smiled as though he
had just won a fortune at a Las Vegas crap table and Blaise still looked thunderous with black anger in his eyes.
His anger found its twin in Julie. A fury so great it caused her to tremble swept through her. She could see clearly now what Blaise had attempted to tell her all along… that Duane had come after her only because of her grandfather's money. He had not loved her at all. He might have thought himself in love with her at one time, but it had not been strong enough to pass the test of endurance when her mother had become ill and all the family problems had been dumped on her shoulders. But when he had heard later through Ann that Julie had gone to live with a wealthy grandfather, he had seen his opportunity and had gone after it with single-minded determination. What a surprise it must have been to him when he arrived to find that Julie was no longer eager to fall into his arms! Fortunately by that time she had realized that she no longer loved him, if indeed, she ever had, but fool that she was, she had actually felt sorry for him!
There was no pity in her smoky eyes now. Julie left her position at the desk to stand directly in front of Duane. "If I were you," she said in a strangely calm voice, "I wouldn't indict myself further by hurtling libels at someone else. It's you who is grasping and selfish. But I must tell you that you're too late. My grandfather has already given me my shares of his company stock and the remainder went to Blaise. And I hardly need you to look after my interests," now her voice held an inflection of scorn that brought renewed color to Duane's face, "because I'm quite capable of making my own decisions. And if I should happen to require any help, I already have a husband who is perfectly able to render it."
"A husband?" Duane croaked disbelievingly, seizing upon the one word.
Julie nodded and without even realizing she did so, backed a step toward Blaise, and his hand slid reassuringly around her waist. "Blaise and I are married," she stated baldly, her eyes still upon Duane, "and if you don't get out of this house immediately, I'm going to ask him to throw you out!"