The Muse (57 page)

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Authors: Raine Miller

BOOK: The Muse
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They became one body, one heart, and one mind together.

Love.  Pleasure.  Love.  Strength.  Love.  Bravery.  Loss. Graham felt each emotion.  All were as important as the others he realized, while taking back his woman.

He worshipped her with his body in the only way he knew how.

 

 

THEY lay together, silently staring.

Imogene’s fingers moved softly over his face, his hair, his lips.  Graham stayed still for her, indulging her the joy she drew from the simple act, and of knowing he belonged to her.

“I have you back now, my darling.  My heart is restored,” she said on a whisper, her emotions rising up and taking over.

Graham merely nodded at her, his deep green eyes reflective of the same feelings, understanding that words were difficult to form, and more importantly, unnecessary for either of them right now.

With his cheek against her shoulder, she felt the divine rasp of his stubbly beard and relished it against her skin.  His long fingers stroking over her breasts made her feel cherished.  The way he breathed in the scent of her hair and stared into her eyes told her he was content.

In time he spoke, “You are so brave, and I was so weak.  Imogene, your understanding and wisdom fills me with wonderment.  I have come back to you, and I will never leave you again.  I know I lost my way, and shame fills me for what I have done, of how I treated you.  Thank you for showing me the way…to a life with you.”  He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers.  “My compass…guiding me, leading me.  How can you ever forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive, Graham.  If it pleases you, then know you are utterly forgiven.  Accept that idea with all of my love.  Take it and believe it and hold it.  It is what you must do.”

“I will do it then.”  He kissed her reverently, his lips moving over hers with gentle possession, in the way he had always done, making her feel like the most cherished woman in the world.

“Graham, I believe we’ll have the fifty years.  I truly do believe in that.  God owes us some charity for all we have borne.”

He pulled her closer and tucked her head under his chin. “Yes, he does, but even so, fifty years would not be enough time with you.  An ocean of time would not be enough. 
Un océan de temps ne serait pas assez de temps avec vous, Imogene.

They did not ride that day.

 

 

EIGHT weeks later, when she told him she believed herself with child, she detected shuttered fear behind his kisses of congratulation.  Imogene touched his face and reminded him, “Be brave, my love, for I have need of you.  Fifty more years, remember?”

He brought her close and held her against him.  “If I am brave it’s because I draw it from you.  But do not fret,
chérie
, because I go anywhere you are going.  All will be well—you will be a most perfect mother to our child.”  He bent and put his lips to her stomach, kissing lovingly.  “I
know
it, truly I do.  For I have seen you…and it is my most beautiful vision of you yet.”

 

 

One year later ~

 

IMOGENE knocked outside the door to his study.

“Come.”

“Sorry to interrupt you while you are working, but we are at our wits end here.”  She brought the howling infant forward.

He stood and opened his arms.  “That’s all right,
chérie
, for I could hear you coming long before you actually arrived.  I was anticipating you.”  He leaned over the baby to kiss his wife.  “What does my little angel need to make her happy again?” he crooned down at his daughter.

“She needs her papa to take her for a stroll into the gallery I think.  She loves hearing your soothing voice tell her all about the paintings.  A girl after her father’s heart.  You know, Graham, you may not have to deal with impromptu pony rides with Byrony when she is older, rather she might demand a painting lesson instead.”

Graham had to smile at the thought.

“A walk around the gallery it is then, my sweet, precious Byrony.”  He kissed her soft downy cheek and settled her into the crook of his arm.

The baby stopped fussing, curled her fat little fist around her father’s finger and looked up at him.

“Her eyes look different to me.  Do you sense a change in her eyes,
chérie
?”

“They are turning green.  I told you; dark hair, long and straight, and green eyes…just like you.”

He lifted the green eyes he’d been born with to his beloved wife and mouthed an ‘I love you.’

“Yes, you most certainly do,” Imogene whispered, her eyes glittering over at him beautifully.  She would forever take his breath away even if it were something he could own in his heart…and treasure the pricelessness of the gift he’d won when he’d found her.  He understood she was a real woman, living a vibrant life, and that fantasies existed only in stories.  He knew this, but it still would never change how he saw his Imogene.  She was beauty.  The muse of beauty lived within her, and it always would for him.

“I’ll bring her up to the nursery once she’s fallen asleep,
chérie
.”

“Thank you, my darling.  You are the best of men…and fathers…and husbands.”  She blew them both a kiss and let herself out of his study.

Graham made his way slowly to the portrait gallery, stopping to show Byrony anything of interest along the way, or to greet a member of the staff.  She took it all in, happily content to be on an adventure with him.  He’d not known it was possible to feel any more love for another person than he had already with Imogene, but he’d learned his heart had a greater capacity than he’d realized the moment his daughter was placed into his arms on the day she was born.

“…Now this is the most magnificent painting I ever conceived.  I did not paint it.  Mr. Mallerton did this one.  I merely suggested it would make a nice picture.  Isn’t it something?  It is your mamma, Byrony.  Can you see it is Mamma?  She is sleeping.  Asleep and all tucked up into the chair.  So beautiful in her yellow dress…so perfectly beautiful…”

EPILOGUE

 

What one man can invent another can discover.

 

Arthur Conan Doyle   ~ The Dancing Man, 1905

 

 

 

Present Day

Christie’s Auction House, London

 

“NEXT
up, lot 501.  Three portraits.”

“THE ARTIST: Sir Tristan Mallerton. Portraitist.  Romanticist.  Life 1783 to 1864.  Knighted by Queen Victoria, 1850.  Exhibited at the Paris Salon, 1808.  A contemporary and friend to Lord Byron.  The paintings of this lot were completed early in his career, spanning the years 1808 to 1812.”

“COMMISSIONED: Patron and life-long friend, Graham Everley, Lord Rothvale, Baron IX, Gavandon, Warwickshire.  Philanthropist and original founding member of
The National Gallery
, London.  Father of the acclaimed portrait painter, Byrony Everley Russell.”

“SUBJECTS: Lady Imogene Rothvale, wife of Lord Rothvale, and other probable family members.”

“PROVENANCE: Discovered recently by the Everley family at the estate Donadea, Northern Ireland.  Existence unknown to the family until exposed during renovations.  All have been hidden together for the past one hundred thirty years in the minimum.  Excellent condition due to a superb storage situation.  All have passed vigorous standards of certification as to originality, artist validity, and dating accuracy.  The private journals of Lady Imogene Rothvale, made public this year, bear out these findings to be correct and true.”

“SUBMITTED: Gifted by the Everley family.  All proceeds to the benefit of charity administered through the
Everley Trust for the Advancement of the Arts
.”

“We begin with Number One.”


Les Grands-Parents
.  Translation:
The Grandparents
.  Date of creation, 1809.  Multiple.  Elder couple.  Surmised to be the parents of Graham Everley, George and Isabelle Everley, Lord and Lady Rothvale VIII.  Georgian dress, romanticized scenery, two babies, a boy and a girl assumed to be twins.  Photographic analysis indicates the babies were added at a later date, but within ten years of origin.  Items of note: intricate, fringed, topaz colour Indian shawl; indigo blue woven blanket.  Size is a generous, eight by six feet.  We will begin the bidding today at £100,000…”

 

 

“NUMBER Two.”


Déshabillé
.
  Translation:
Undressed.
Date of creation, 1812.  Single.  Lady Imogene Rothvale, lounge attire, green brocade robe, bedchamber setting.  Items of note:  intricate Indian shawl, appearing to be one in the same as the shawl in Number One; pearl choker necklace and matching tiara, circa1725; storybook entitled
The Princess and the Toad
.  Artistic impression: fantasy, romanticized, staged image of a woman in bed.  Unknown style for the period.  In layman’s terms, folks, the aristocracy did not commission fantasy portraits containing this type of subject matter in 1812.  It would have been considered scandalous to sit for and most certainly was kept private.  In addition, there were no known portraitists willing to paint subjects in this manner in 1812.  This is unsigned but certified to be Mallerton’s work.  It would bear out the close friendship between the artist and the family.  The style is much more indicative of 1880.  It could be said that Mallerton was a good seventy years ahead of the times. He died 1865, well before the period in which subjects were commonly painted in such a manner.  Size at two by three feet.  Bidding begins for this item today at £850,000…”

 

 

“NUMBER Three.”


Le Sommeil d’Imogene
.  Translation:
Sleeping Imogene.
  Date of creation, 1812.  Single.  Lady Imogene Rothvale sleeping in a chair.  Yellow gown, same Indian shawl that appears in Numbers One and Two.  Items of note: pet dog, Greyhound; writing journal; lap escritoire; pen and ink.  Artistic impression: unique, one of a kind.  Very exaggerated romantic image of a blonde, sleeping woman, arms and legs tucked up into the chair.  Remarkable, flowing movement in a jonquil-yellow gown, the colour, being the height of fashion for 1812.  Completely unknown style for the period.  The subject and execution bears a striking resemblance to the subject of Lord Leighton’s
Flaming June
, painted 1895.  One must ask the question:  Did Lord Leighton, at some point in his lifetime, view this painting, and was it in fact his inspiration for
Flaming June
?  If true, then
Flaming June
is a
simulacrum
of this much earlier work.  Mallerton’s
Sleeping Imogene
predates Leighton’s
Flaming June
by eighty-three years.  In the very least this is a stunning revelation.  This is it, folks, the painting setting the art world on its ear.  The painting people will be talking about for years to come. 
Sleeping Imogene
.  Size is three by three feet square.  The opening bid starting today at £10,000,000…”

 

 

“BIDDING has ended.  Sold to number 317. 
Sleeping Imogene
has sold for £28,000,000. Well done, California, patron of the arts.  What a coup! 
The Getty Museum
taking all three, for an unprecedented grand total of £44,000,000.”

 

 

Finis.

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