Sommersgate House (11 page)

True, she and
Douglas had known each other for years, spent holidays together,
ate many a meal in each other’s company and had even engaged in a
variety of conversations both with others and alone.

And there had
been three times, three very memorable times, when Douglas had
shown her fleeting moments of tenderness.

The first was
during one of her early visits, a summer holiday. They’d been
outside Tamsin and Gavin’s house, Gavin at the barbeque with
everyone else eating and drinking. Julia had turned her ankle
walking back into the house. Douglas had just arrived and had been
close enough to catch her before she fell. Unfortunately, she’d
turned it quite badly and he assisted her to a chair, his strong
arm supporting her. Once he had her seated, he bent to her foot,
carefully, even fondly, lifting her ankle and inspecting it. Gavin
had come forward to take over but Julia had never forgotten
Douglas’s (strange, for him) thoughtful attention.

The second was
during her first visit to Gavin and Tammy’s after her divorce was
final. When they’d had a moment alone, Douglas had asked quietly if
she was all right and she had the distinct impression that he
genuinely cared about her answer. Douglas had been quite obvious
about the fact that he never cared for Sean, unlike Monique who
doted on her ex-husband. However, with no small surprise, Julia
felt that it wasn’t the fact that Douglas disliked Sean and was
making some point in asking, it was that he wanted to be certain
she was, indeed, all right.

And last,
after Tammy and Gavin’s funeral, Julia had found a quiet corner in
the library at Sommersgate where she thought no one would find her.
Douglas, to her stunned amazement, not only found her, she had the
impression he’d come looking for her and, without a word, pulled
her stiff body loosely into his arms. At this act of compassion,
she’d clutched his shirt, buried her face in his chest and burst
into tears, the grief shuddering through her body as the gravity of
her loss settled on her soul. Through this, he silently absorbed
it, the whole time stroking her back in a way that was both absent
(for him) and comforting (for her). Then Patricia walked in and
Douglas turned her into her mother’s arms, again without a word,
and walked away.

Putting these
things out of her mind, Julia also tried to shrug off her feelings
at Douglas’s arm on her chair. Gavin would and did put his arm on
the back of her chair and it was obviously never predatory or
possessive (but maybe protective). Perhaps, Julia told herself, it
was a brotherly gesture.

Once she had
that comforting thought settled in her mind, she relaxed. Until she
saw Charlotte, who Julia was realising didn’t miss a trick, had
noted the action with raised brows and a feminine glance at Julia
that spoke volumes. This was something else Julia decided to put
out of her mind.

After their
coffees, Charlotte and Oliver took their own car to the gallery
while Carter drove Douglas and Julia

“I’m not good
company this evening,” she told him and she watched as his head
turned to her. “I still think I’m a little jetlagged and it’s been
a long day. I’m sorry.”

He nodded but
didn’t respond.

“Dinner was
lovely and I like Charlotte very much,” she tried again,
desperately wanting to dispel her awkward feelings.

No response
for a moment, then he asked, his deep voice sounding strangely
lower, more throaty, “Your perfume, what is it?”

She blinked in
the darkness. “Wah… why?” she asked, thrown by his odd
question.

“It’s
extraordinary,” he said it in such a tone that she didn’t know if
it was good-extraordinary or bad-extraordinary. “What is it?” he
repeated.

“It isn’t from
a shop. A friend of mine makes it for me. She’s a bit, er… unusual,
my friend. She says it’s an aromatic manifestation of my
‘essence’.” He made no response to this so Julia inquired
hesitantly, “Is it too strong?”

“No,” Douglas
answered and said nothing more.

She sat there,
bewildered, and thought it best to let it go. Then curiosity (as
often was the case with Julia) overrode common sense.

“Why do you
ask about my perfume?”

“It suits
you,” was all he said in reply.

At that moment
they slid to a halt in front of the gallery and Douglas threw open
the door before Julia could form a thought. She was still reeling
at the strange conversation. Julia thought he had just called her
extraordinary, though she still didn’t know if that was good or bad
but she had the feeling it was good.

Then she could
think about it no more. The flashbulbs started popping and the
shouts were frenzied while he alighted and she saw his hand offered
through the door to help her. She put her own in his and exited the
car to the blinding lights. She instantly became discombobulated
and dropped his hand as the shouts became louder, more frenzied.
She heard his name repeated again and again while the blinding
flashes came with such swiftness there seemed no pause between.

She felt her
hand taken again in a firm grasp as she was pulled forward, Douglas
guiding her, or more to the point, dragging her towards the
door.

They made it
through the door and crush outside was nothing to the crush inside.
It was wall-to-wall people.

Someone rushed
forward to Douglas the minute they entered the gallery.

“Lord Ashton!
You’re here!” It was a young, eager, overly-made-up woman who
turned curious eyes to Julia, looked her from head-to-toe, made a
judgement and, Julia thought, dismissed her. “Can I get you some
drinks?”

“Champagne,”
Douglas commanded shortly and then completely ignored her.

He’d dropped
Julia’s hand upon entering but now he slid his fingers, starting at
the side of her waist, to the small of her back and guided her
forward, stopping her by wrapping his arm fully about her waist and
pressing his fingers gently and firmly against her side as they
arrived at the first wall filled with art.

She barely had
a moment to get her breath or process the pleasant warmth of his
hand at her waist and his body at her side when she heard a
call.

“Douglas!” a
man shouted, far louder than needed even in the din of the crowded
gallery. Douglas dropped his arm but kept himself positioned close
to Julia’s side. The older man was paunchy with a shock of bright
white hair and very red cheeks. “You’ve done it again. It’s the
next Picasso. I’ve already bought two. How do you find them?” he
asked, apropos of nothing.

He too looked
over Julia and didn’t bother to hide his curious interest before he
again turned his eyes to Douglas.

Douglas didn’t
answer as the man babbled on, “Masterpieces, all, the like I’ve
never seen before.”

As Julia
finally realised what the older man was referring to, she turned
her attention to the artwork on the walls.

Each piece was
suspended between two sheets of plexiglass with no other adornment.
They were drawn on bits of wrinkled scratch paper and each one, she
saw, looked like a doodle done in pencil while the artist was
taking a telephone call.

Julia couldn’t
claim to be an art aficionado but even she could doodle better than
this. And without the theme of blood, guts and violence that ran
throughout the works she could take in from her vantage point.

“These are
hideous!” Charlotte shrieked gaily as she and Oliver joined them,
the white-haired man obviously taking the hint of utter silence
from Douglas and moving off. “What on earth made you become patron
to this person? Dear God.”

Julia was
surprised. She didn’t know Douglas was the opening’s patron and she
peered more closely at the disturbing doodles. She also looked at
the prices discreetly affixed on the walls to the side of each
piece and gasped in shock, each piece cost a small fortune.

The girl
arrived with their champagne, Douglas handed Julia a glass and his
to Charlotte. “Two more,” he told the girl without a thank you and,
apparently not expecting one, she immediately melted into the crowd
to do his bidding.

“I’ve never
seen these,” Douglas belatedly answered Charlotte. “Samantha finds
it amusing to use my influence and money to do shocking things that
will make people wonder about me.”

“Well, she’s
succeeded,” Oliver replied, laughter in his voice. “From the looks
of these, you’re a very disturbed individual.”

“
Hideous
or not, most of them have sold,” Charlotte noted and then she came
forward and wrapped her arm around Julia’s waist. “We’re off to the
ladies,” she announced and pulled Julia along with her and through
the throng of the crowd before Julia could say a word. “We’re not
off to the ladies, I’ve
got
to
have a cigarette and Ollie doesn’t know I’ve started up again,” she
confided to Julia conspiratorially, still giving Julia no time to
respond.

She guided
Julia through the gallery, down a hall at the back and outside into
an alleyway. Other guests mingled with staff to enjoy their
cigarettes in the surprisingly tidy but smoky alley.

Charlotte
pulled Julia away from the smoking crowd and down, stopping them
within sight but out of hearing distance and surreptitiously
lighting a cigarette with a slim, gold lighter.

“Thank you for
coming with me,” Charlotte said, even though she hadn’t given Julia
much choice. “Now, we can really talk. Tell me, how are you getting
on?”

Her
words were not gossipy but kind. Nevertheless, Julia was aware this
was a family friend and she forced herself to be discreet even
though she desperately wanted to talk to someone,
anyone
.

“I’m settling
in…” she started.

“Codswallop,”
Charlotte announced, the strange word forcing a giggle out of Julia
and making her relax.

“Okay, it’s
been tough,” Julia allowed.

“Tough is when
you break the heel of your favourite pair of Jimmy Choos. There’s
another word for it when your whole life turns on its head.” She
took a drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke away from Julia.
“Come on, you can tell Auntie Charlie,” she coaxed with an
encouraging smile.

Julia smiled
back. She needed someone to talk to and Charlotte seemed genuinely
concerned so she gave in. “I’m tired, exhausted… the kids are,
well… things are not good.”

“Monique,”
Charlotte guessed, making the name sound like a curse and correctly
judging the state of affairs at Sommersgate. “That woman is a
nightmare. She wasn’t a good mother and she certainly isn’t a good
grandmother.”

Julia was
stunned by her frankness and curious at her words. Tamsin (and
certainly not Douglas) had never spoken about her relationship with
her mother even though Julia knew it was obviously nothing like
what she and Gav had with Patricia. She knew, though, that it was
none of her business.

“It’ll get
better,” Julia assured her, trying to believe it herself. “I
haven’t even been here for a week. I haven’t had the chance to
really talk to Douglas.”

“
Who
ever
really
talks to
Douglas?” Charlotte asked with further brazen honesty as she waved
her cigarette around in the air. “I love him but he’s about as
approachable as The Guards.” She took another deep drag and then
glanced at the crowd, obviously worried that Oliver would discover
her habit then her eyes moved back to Julia. “Listen to me, I was
Tammy’s friend, I miss her. She was wonderful and an important part
of my life. But I cannot imagine what possessed her to do this to
you and Douglas. She loved that house, God knows why, it’s the
creepiest place on earth. But she connected with it. I figure she
talked Gavin into having the kids brought up there and to protect
you, they made Douglas guardian too.”

Julia couldn’t
hide her surprise at this announcement. She, too, had spent hours
trying to figure out what intentions Gavin and Tamsin had when they
put her and Douglas in what was seeming, more and more, not only an
impossible, not even an inconceivable but maybe a catastrophic
situation. Especially if Julia couldn’t control the avid clenching
of her stomach any time Douglas was near.

“Do you
think?” Julia asked.

“I can’t
imagine why else. Tammy adored Douglas but she didn’t fool herself
about him. He’s a good man but, let’s face it, he’s no father
figure.” Julia couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that, Charlotte
threw her a grin and carried on. “So, Tammy wanted the kids at
Sommersgate and you to raise them because they both thought you
were fabulous and everyone knows you love those kids. But they had
to know Monique would be a problem. Ergo, Douglas is thrown into
the fray, poor man. He worshipped his sister, you know.”

No, she
didn’t know. Worship was the kind of thing people did
to
Douglas, not the other way
around.

Charlotte
continued. “It’s clear he’s already decided on protecting you, if
you know what I mean. So, my advice to you is to take him up on
it.”

Julia frowned.
“I don’t know what you mean.”

“
The
possessive arm thing, wasting no time in dragging you in front of
the paparazzi as a declaration of your position and his favour.
Trust me, everyone in there…” she gestured with her cigarette to
the gallery, “knows who you are and why you’re here and that you
are not, upon arrival in this country, being hidden away like a
poor relation whose role is now nanny of her Lady Sister-in-Law’s
children. No, instead, you’re out here, looking fabulous… and
you
do
look fabulous
by the way, that dress is
amazing
… and drinking champagne. And Douglas’s favour is a sought
after commodity. He shines his light on you, not even Monique could
dim it. Believe me, there is nothing, not one thing that Douglas
does that doesn’t have a purpose. This…” she gestured lavishly to
the alley, “is his subtle way of telling his mother, when she
returns, and anyone else for that matter, to back, the hell, off.
Well done him!” She finished, clapping her hands, rather
dangerously in Julia’s opinion, considering the lit
cigarette.