Storm's End Page 17

  She felt the pressure of Blaise's fingers tighten upon her hip. "I'd be delighted," he said dryly.

  Duane looked uncertainly from Julie to Blaise and then to Clive. "I don't believe it," he finally said in a flat voice, returning his gaze to Julie. "You're making this up!"

  Julie laughed. "We have a marriage license should we ever need to prove it, but frankly, I don't see the necessity of proving anything to you, Duane, one way or another."

  Unexpectedly, she saw pleading in Duane's eyes. "You can't mean this, Julie," he said hoarsely. "I love you. I quit my job just to come to you and…"

  "I'm sorry, Duane," she said in a gentler voice and the tone of it told him more than her words that she was telling him the truth. Then Julie's gaze swept to Clive, who was staring at her in white-faced amazement and now her voice held a tinge of sadness. "My grandfather gave you and Blaise both a part of his company because he cared about you, not because he had to do it. You've repaid him by trying to sell it out from under him and when that didn't work you plotted to simply take it from him by force by having him declared incompetent." She shook her head wearily. "I truly am sorry for you, Clive, but I warn you," now there was a hint of steel in her voice, "if you persist in this insane action, Blaise won't be the only one to fight you."

  "If it's really true that Uncle Andy's already transferred his shares to both of you," Clive said with a certain amount of bravado, "then perhaps you'd be interested in buying out my part? I really don't relish the idea of being low guy on the totem pole from now on."

  "That might be best," Blaise said quietly. "I thin?: I should tell you, Clive, that yesterday I received a report proving that you're on the Wyndover Company's payroll. Also that we're about to initiate an outside audit of our own marketing expenses."

  Clive's face drained of its remaining color and for an instant there was only a heavy silence. Then he nodded briskly. "Draw up the papers for the transfer and I'll sign them Friday. Just be sure my check is ready." He turned to head toward the door, got two steps and drew up short.

  Standing in the doorway were Andrew, Ruth and Bobby. Nobody spoke as uncle and nephew stared at one another for a timeless moment, and then, abruptly Clive pushed his way past them, followed by Duane.

  The others came into the room and Julie was struck by how old and beaten her grandfather appeared. In only moments he seemed to have aged ten years.

  "How much did you hear just now?" Blaise asked bluntly.

  "Enough," Andrew said in a tired voice. "Too much, perhaps. So… it's true. Clive was on the Wyndover payroll?"

  "I'm sorry, yes," Blaise answered gently. "I didn't mean for you to know."

  The old man snorted impatiently. "Why not?" he snapped. "I'm tough. I can handle reality. Seems like I'm facing a good deal of it today anyway, whether I want to or not!"

  Ruth touched Julie's arm and there was a stunned expression on her face. "Julie, you told Duane you are married. Is this true?"

  Julie's teeth caught her lower lip in consternation. She had not realized her mother and grandfather had been listening at the door that long. Now, uncertainly, she tilted her head sideways to glance up at Blaise who still stood close to her side with his arm around her, and she saw that his face, which moments ago had been dark with anger, was now drained of color.

  Only a half-hour ago, Grandpa had released them from their bargain, granting them freedom from an impossible alliance and now, what had she done in a spurt of anger but ruin everything? After weeks of carefully preserving their secret, in one reckless moment of fury she had been indiscreet and created fresh problems! Julie wished that she could just suddenly vanish, evaporate into thin air.

  But the floor did not obligingly swallow her up, nor did she fade away like a wisp of fog. She still stood rooted to the spot, with all eyes upon her.

  "I… I… yes," she murmured at last. "It's true, Mom." She had no way of knowing whether Blaise had wanted her to lie or not, but all at once, she didn't care. He stood there like a stone, not helping her at all, and besides, she was sick of lies, sick of pretense.

  Bobby's eyes were round and bright as rain-washed pebbles. "You'n Blaise are married?" he asked incredulously. "To each other?"

  "That's right, Bob," Blaise answered. His hand tightened around Julie's waist, imperceptibly pressing her body closer to his side. Now he addressed her mother. "I'm sorry we had to keep it a secret from you, Ruth, but at the time you were still very ill and we didn't feel your heart could stand the strain or excitement."

  "But… but how?" Ruth asked, her gaze searching both their faces. "When? I just don't understand."

  Blaise smiled. "Julie and I fell in love almost at first sight, didn't we, darling?" he asked, glancing down at her with tenderness lighting his eyes. "But like I said, you were far too ill for us to tell you and yet we didn't feel we could wait months for each other, so… we married secretly. But we were planning to tell you soon. I hope you're not going to be too angry with us, Ruth?"

  "Well, I…" Ruth shook her head and smiled. "Of course not. In fact, I'm delighted so long as you're happy and…" Abruptly, she whirled to glance accusingly at Andrew Barclay. "Did you know about this?"

  "Yes," he answered quietly. "I'm guilty, Ruth." His eyes were on the couple before him and the words had been for them. He seemed about to add more and Julie thought for a moment that he was going to tell her mother the real truth behind their marriage, but Bobby interrupted.

  "Blaise, if you're married now, does that mean you'll have to kiss Julie and all that mushy junk?"

  The question brought forth an eruption of laughter from them all, at least briefly relieving some of the tension in the room. "That's right, Bob," Blaise answered.

  "Yuk!" Bobby exclaimed, making a face.

  Blaise grinned at him. "Oh, it's really not so bad." And there was a distinctively devilish twinkle in his eyes as he glanced down at Julie.

  But Julie was far from amused. This entire situation had gotten out of hand. It would have been better if her mother had never known about their marriage, but now that she did, they might as well tell her the whole truth. If they were going to begin divorce proceedings immediately, Ruth had to be told. Now she gave her head a shake. "Blaise, I think we need to…"

  Swiftly, he cut her off, speaking loudly to cover her words. "Sorry, folks, but I'm late for an appointment in town and I want Julie to come along with me. There are a few things we need to discuss." Then, without giving anyone a chance to say another word, he hurried Julie out of the room, out of the house and toward the garage.

  "Where are we going?" she demanded as he held open the car door for her.

  Blaise shook his dark head. "You'll see," he said, giving nothing away. "I haven't got all day so if you don't hurry up, I'll pick you up and put you in myself."

  "I don't even have my purse or…" Her voice trailed off at the spark of anger that flickered in his eyes, and sighing with defeat, she got inside the car.

  Several times during the long drive toward the city, Julie attempted to speak, but each time Blaise curtly silenced her. "Later," he would say in a cold, clipped voice, and at last Julie subsided. She hugged her side of the seat, leaving as much space between them as possible, and stared miserably at the highway ahead. Blaise was obviously angry with her for blurting out the truth to Duane, but what she could not understand was why had he fed that fiction story to her mother about their falling in love at first sight? Certainly, it had been their original intention, but now that the circumstances had changed and he could soon be free to marry Rosalind as he planned, it had been not only unnecessary, but pointless. It was only delaying the inevitable, because her mother would have to be informed sometime.

  Beneath thick lashes, she peeped at Blaise as he drove. His profile was sharply etched against the bright sunlight, emphasizing the stern cut of his chin, the rugged angles and planes of his face, the very power and determination that was in that face. Now, uneasily, Julie wondered where he was taking her.
r />   She was amazed when they arrived at their destination. It was a relatively new and very fashionable brick apartment complex. Ignoring the question in her eyes, Blaise got out of the car, walked around and opened her door and then he ushered her up a flight of steps. They walked down a corridor and when they stopped in front of a heavy door, Blaise pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it into the lock.

  "Go on in," he told her as he pushed open the door.

  Julie stepped inside with an odd reluctance and heard the door swing closed behind her. By now she was gazing toward the center of a large, empty room and once again she turned to look at Blaise.

  "Why are we here?" she asked. Her voice echoed off the bare walls.

  Blaise's eyes were dark and inscrutable as he answered. "It's my place. I've taken out a year's lease on it. Come on, I'll take you on the grand tour."

  Julie allowed Blaise to take her arm and guide her through the empty rooms, the sunken living room, the cheery green and white kitchen, two bedrooms, one very large and spacious with its own bath, and another roomy bathroom. But all the while, she was experiencing a growing numbness and though she supposed she said something, made little comments as they went, she had no idea what she said. Her mind was fastened to the realization that Blaise had leased this apartment to be his future home with Rosalind and the knowledge was crushing her heart with hammer blows.

  They were back in the hallway, headed toward the vast living room when the doorbell rang. Julie was startled, but Blaise did not appear at all surprised as he went to answer it.

  For the next hour and a half, the apartment was a beehive of activity. Blaise had practically wiped out a local furniture store, Julie thought bitterly, as she watched men bring in piece after piece, from the plush, elegant white sofa to the king-sized bed with its lime green velvet headboard, right down to table lamps.

  When the men had gone at last, Blaise stood, hands on hips, in the center of the living room as his glance surveyed the new furnishings. "Well, what do you think?" he asked. "It still needs a few touches, draperies, wall decorations and such, but otherwise, do you think it'll do?"

  Do? Julie thought angrily. It was beautiful and Rosalind would be very picky indeed if she didn't love it. Blaise had wonderful taste, an unerring sense of what went together, what complemented each other.

  "Yes," she answered dully, "it'll do. I… I hope you'll be very happy here." She averted her face and gazed unhappily at an empty bookcase.

  "Hey!" She felt rather than saw Blaise as he crossed the room to her side. "I'll bet Bobby has more enthusiasm than that when he takes his six-weeks exams at school."

  "I'm sorry," Julie apologized listlessly. "It's just that I'm so upset about this morning. I've made such a mess of everything. Just when Grandpa gave us the go ahead to end our marriage, I had to go open my mouth. Now Mom and Bobby know about it and pretty soon it'll get back to Rosalind somehow and ruin things for you."

  Unexpectedly, Blaise laughed with total unconcern. "Don't let that worry you, Julie."

  "But it does!" she cried. "And now Mom thinks we're happy together and how I'm ever going to explain things to her, I just don't know. I can't tell her about Grandpa's part in it, not now when they're getting along together so well." Now she lashed out at Blaise. "Why did you have to tell her what you did? You only made matters worse and…" Hopelessly, she buried her face in her hands.

  There was a short little silence between them, and then Blaise gently pried her hands away from her face and, with his forefinger beneath her chin, lifted her face until she was forced to meet his eyes.

  "May I make a suggestion?" he asked quietly.

  Julie's head bobbed up and down as she swallowed over the lump in her throat.

  "Since we are married, since it's what Dad wanted for us, and since your mother seemed pleased about it as well, what do you say if we give our marriage a trial period to see if it might just work?"

  "A… a trial period?" she echoed faintly.

  Blaise nodded. "Yes. I was thinking of something in the neighborhood of… say, forty or fifty years. That ought to be plenty of time to find out whether it will work or not, don't you think?"

  There was such a blank expression on Julie's face that suddenly Blaise gave a whoop of laughter and gathered her into his arms. The coffee-brown eyes were warm as he looked down at her. "I wasn't lying to Ruth, you know," he said softly, "when I told her I fell in love with you almost at first sight. I couldn't help but admire your courage and independence and sense of responsibility toward your family." Now he shook his head. "But at the same time, you got my hackles up with your hard-boiled attitude toward Dad and so I wouldn't admit to myself that I was drawn to you. Then, when Dad blackmailed us into marriage, I stiffly resented being forced into something against my will, so I was hardly disposed to look upon it… or you… with a favorable eye. I just wanted to keep as much distance between us as possible, and one way of doing it was to continue seeing Rosalind on occasion."

  "Then… why…" Julie began through quivering lips, "why did you…" Now her face warmed as her thoughts went to the night he had made love to her.

  Blaise sensed her thoughts. "Why did I make love to you?" His smile was wry. "Because I'd been wanting to for a long time and that night I was so insanely jealous when Sutton showed up that I just lost control. And then yesterday, even though I was furious with you, I came and leased this place and bought the furniture. I thought if we got a place of our own where we'd be free of everyone else's influences, it just might work out for us. Julie," the tone of his voice altered and he suddenly sounded unsure of himself, "do you think it's possible that you could learn to love me, too? You must feel something for me. You couldn't have responded to me like you did that night unless you felt something. You must!"

  Shyness attacked Julie. The blazing fire in his gaze was overpowering and she lowered her lashes to conceal the growing flame in her own eyes. "I already love you," she whispered at last, "but I thought…"

  Apparently it did not matter to Blaise what she thought. She had told him the only thing he had wanted to hear. He crushed her against his hard, lean frame as his mouth hungrily sought hers and for an endless time, in all the world there was only themselves and their urgent, agonizing need of each other.

  At last Blaise released her, but only enough to catch her breath and they were both smiling. But suddenly a cloud darkened Julie's eyes and with swift perception, Blaise murmured, "What is it? Rosalind?"

  Julie nodded and attempted to withdraw from his embrace. "She did say…"

  Blaise did not release her, but now his face was somber. "I did not ask her to marry me, Julie. Not ever. And even if I had wanted to, I would hardly have done it while I was still your husband."

  "Then why… ?"

  "I don't know." Blaise shook his head. "Maybe she sensed the interest I had in you and she was jealous. Maybe she hoped if I heard about it that it would force my hand so that I would ask her." He shrugged. "She just showed up uninvited last night… pulled into the drive right behind me. I wasn't glad to see her, but I used the opportunity to tell her, before she left, that I wouldn't be seeing her anymore. I told her I was in love with you." At the wide wonder in Julie's eyes, he smiled. "How could I see another woman after that night we spent together? I couldn't, no more than I could allow you to see another man. It hurt like hell this morning to hear you say you wanted a divorce, darling." Now his hand went up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and his finger traced a soft line down her cheek. "I never asked any woman to share my life before, Julie, but I'm asking you now."

  Julie captured the finger against her cheek and kissed it. "Forty or fifty years, you said?" She asked with the beginnings of a smile.

  Now Blaise smiled too, fully, and it was like prisms of a rainbow breaking through dark clouds, the covenant of storm's end.

  "It might be enough time," he said dubiously, "to convince you of how much I love you."

  Julie tilted her head t
o one side and her eyes sparkled with laughter. "And if it's not?" she asked.

  "Why, then we'd just have to extend it for another ten or twenty years," Blaise told her as once more he imprisoned her in his arms. "You know," he chuckled after a moment, "this means Dad gets his way, after all."

  "I know," Julie murmured in satisfaction as she rubbed her cheek against the fine, firm texture of his. "I guess for a stubborn old man, he's not so bad after all. Without him, we might never have met." Now she sighed. "Do you suppose we ought to go back now and let him know everything is all right between us?"

  She felt Blaise shaking his head against hers. "Now that your Mom knows and he thinks we're getting an annulment, he's bound, to be in a real dither, but it won't hurt to let him stew awhile longer. Besides, I've got something far more important in mind just now."

  Like he had in the past, Blaise swept her into his arms, carried her to the bedroom and deposited her on the bed. There were no more barriers of misunderstandings or pain between them now and this time Julie's arms were wide and welcoming as her husband came to join her.