Truly I do (18 page)

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Authors: Katherine West

Tags: #heart, #heart break, #heartache, #heartfelt, #hearts, #love, #love affair, #love affairs love and loss, #love and loss, #love and romance, #love story, #romance, #romance and love, #romance book, #romance novel, #romance story

BOOK: Truly I do
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*

She could not
make herself pay much attention to the scenery as she drove out to
Russell's place. She simply ticked off the landmarks from her route
planner to ensure that she was going the right way as before.

Somehow the
white gatehouse seemed less mysterious as she pulled past it to
commence her drive down the lime tree avenue to the main house. She
did wonder who lived there - Della perhaps?

Her arrival
seemed timely as Della was at the door waiting for her when she
stepped up.

"Hello there!"
Della greeted her cheerfully."

"Good
Morning!" Julie-Anne smiled brightly. She was really looking
forward to seeing the tapestries. Her heart also lurched at the
thought that she might bump into Russell.

"Come on
then," Della led the way through the house to the basement, "Let's
see what we've got."

While Della
carefully pulled the two six foot by eight foot tapestries from
their storage place at the entrance to a passage or tunnel that
seemed to lead out of the basement toward the garden area,
Julie-Anne talked in general terms about what she expected to see.
"As a general rule fifteenth century tapestries were designed to
illustrate a story," she chattered, "more often than not they
depicted scenes from everyday life such as wool-working or
grape-gathering, which can be really interesting."

"Oh?" Della
was interested. "From what I've seen these are really pretty - lots
of flowers and things in them. Here, we can spread them on the
floor, would that be okay?"

"Yes, that'll
do to start with." Julie-Anne agreed, eagerly. She carried on
talking, explaining the patterns Della had noticed, "These
tapestries are decorated with what t hey call 'mille-fleurs'. That
means 'thousand flowers'. It's a background that I think originates
from the Loire Valley region of France. Oh yes, they're lovely"
Julie-Anne touched the delicate fabrics with care and admiration,
"This style was once very much in vogue. The idea of using the
flowers all over the background was inspired by the custom of
strewing cut flowers on fete days in Medieval times."

"My goodness,
yes! How lovely! What marvellous things they are! Have you seen
many like these?" Della looked positively thrilled as they gazed on
the fine needle works.

"Yes, I went
on a trip to France as part of my university research. I saw what
might perhaps be some of the finest examples. My favourites were
'The Lady with the Unicorn' tapestries in Paris, woven around the
fourteen-nineties. I love the romance and chivalry depicted by
these things don't you?"

Della smiled
wistfully at her. "I'm afraid those times of romance are long
gone!" she opined. "Now, what sort of value are we looking at here?
And more to the point, what about displaying them? I don't see the
point in keeping these lovely things down here. I'm sure they ought
to be out on display."

"Well, we'd
have to get them authenticated. But I would expect the insurance to
be between ten and fifteen thousand each." Julie-Anne
suggested.

"Della!"
Russell's voice snapped from the background, making them both jump.
He appeared in the doorway and leaned his tall body against the
frame. "I thought you were being a bit coy this morning, when you
said you'd chanced on an expert who could help you with something
down here!" He grumbled. "You can go now and leave us for a while -
go and organise some coffee. You and I shall have words later."
Although he was talking in a serious, deep tone, the women sensed
that Russell was not going to treat Della unfairly. She suppressed
a smile as she nodded to him and walked silently past him to go
back up to the kitchens.

"Well," he
turned his eyes on Julie-Anne, "what do you think you're doing
here?"

'I mustn't
gabble. I must stay calm!' Julie-Anne coached herself. "Della asked
me to come back and look at these, they're lovely aren't they?" she
indicated the tapestries. "Look," she swallowed hard and carried on
in what she hoped was a matter of fact voice, "this one depicts
wine making. Look at the people and the colours. It's exquisite. A
really good example of its type."

Russell cast a
quick glance at the tapestry but snapped his attention back to
Julie-Anne as if he wasn't prepared to let her out of his sight.
"Hang them up somewhere then, shall we?" he spoke as if he couldn't
care less about the fine works of art, watching Julie-Anne for her
reaction.

"If you have
somewhere that maintains a constant temperature and isn't too
bright," she said, carefully. "Direct sunlight would fade them
terribly," she added. Finally having the courage to return his
stare. In the coolness and low light of the basement he looked very
serious. She wondered if she'd made a terrible mistake in coming
back.

Russell
stepped forward and placed himself behind Julie-Anne to look at the
tapestries over her shoulder. "I was thinking they'd look good in
the master bedroom." His voice was a low rumble that shivered down
her spine.

"Oh?"

"Julie-Anne,
why are you here?"

"Della asked
me to come and look at these."

"And why did
you say yes?"

The artificial
light seemed to have dimmed even further and Julie-Anne began to
feel desperately claustrophobic standing between Russell and the
tapestries. 'Keep calm girl - don't bolt, keep talking to him . .
.' she thought. "Because I wanted to see these . . . and you." She
breathed in deeply to calm herself and turned slightly to look up
into his face.

A wry smile
lifted one corner of Russell's mouth. He looked like a creature
playing cruelly with its prey. He had it in his power to utterly
destroy Julie-Anne with just a few words, and they both knew
it.

She managed to
keep her brown eyed stare steady. His crystal blue eyes were dark
with a sardonic expression that slightly frightened her. When he
lifted his hand to move a stray strand of hair from her cheek she
jumped but kept her ground.

"What do I
have to do?" she whispered, "How do I show you that I know it was
me that was wrong? That I know my fears were misplaced, stupid,
damaging?"

. . . His face
was very close to hers. She could feel the tension between them but
she could not discern how much of it was their desire for one
another and how much of it was his anger with her. She stared at
his powerful jaw line and eminently kissable mouth.

"Why should I
set myself up for another fall Julie-Anne? Why should I let you
back into my life just to have you turn me down again?"

"Why did you
ever come into my life in the first place? You invited yourself you
know!" she was suddenly indignant, defensive. They kept their close
proximity, the temptation to touch each other, the tension between
them. It was as if an electric spark, ever changing, extending,
shifting, crackling but burning bright, played between their bodies
and minds as they stood there.

Russell's
eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly as she'd turned the question
on him. "I fell in love with you the moment I saw you," he answered
firmly. "I stood there in the rain and looked at you framed in that
window, framed by your heartbreak, alone and lost. And I knew then
that I loved you. I had to come to you Julie-Anne."

She searched
his face for any signs that he loved her still. His countenance was
guarded, his feelings kept masked.

"Then
shouldn't you take me warts and all?" her voice was gentle but her
question was a demand. "If I get frightened or confused, shouldn't
you be strong enough to combat my fears and guide me back to
safety?"

"How can I
Julie-Anne? How can I be strong for you if you run away from me
when I'm trying to bind you into the protection of marriage? I said
before, I am not going to spend my life chasing after you all the
time."

Julie-Anne
knew he was right. She knew that if she was to repair the damage
she would have to trust herself to him lock, stock and barrel.
However unsure of herself, of their relationship, of his love for
her - she must learn to know that he did love her - truly. "The
only way I can prove to you that I won't take flight again is to
get you to take me back," she uttered, simply.

Suddenly,
coldly, Russell looked at his watch. "I've got a meeting to get
to," he announced. "I'll think about what you've said. Della will
see that you get a cup of coffee before you go." To her
astonishment he turned on his heel and strode off, disappearing
through the doorway. She listened to his footstep going away from
her as he climbed the stairs. Then she was left in silence.

After a few
empty moments she remembered the tapestries, lying on the floor at
her feet. 'Della mustn't leave those there.' she thought. 'I'd
better go and ask her to roll and wrap them again.'

"Well, at
least you two managed to communicate without raised voices!" Della
observed with a twinkle in her gentle grey eyes, as they sat
sipping coffee in the fabulous kitchen.

"Doesn't seem
to have got me very far though does it?" Julie-Anne responded with
a heavy sigh.

"Give it time
child." Della answered.

"Time heals
all wounds!" Russell's voice interrupted them. This time he was
propped against the kitchen door frame.

'Oh lord, how
long has he been listening?' Julie-Anne was startled. "That was a
very quick meeting." she snapped impatiently at him. Up in the
bright daylight of the kitchen she noticed how stylish his dark
grey suit looked - had he put the jacket on before or after she'd
seen him downstairs? Such idle thoughts side tracked her panicking
mind.

"My people are
here. I just came to rustle up some drinks for us and make sure
lunch is still okay for one o'clock?" he looked to Della for an
answer, perhaps he hadn't really heard their conversation then.

Della stood
up, folding away the paper containing addresses Julie-Anne had
given her. They were people who could verify the age and
authenticity of the tapestries before Della could see to insuring
and hanging them. Giving Julie-Anne no more than a cursory glance
the older woman said, "I'll go and ring the caterers, I'm sure
there won't be any problem. But since you've asked, I'll double
check."

Once again
Russell and Julie-Anne had been left alone together. He looked
amused about something as his eyes drifted over her petite form,
seeming to coldly scrutinising her appearance. "As I can't seem to
get rid of you - how about you come and join us in the West
gallery, over the court yard?" he suggested.

Detecting an
undertone Julie-Anne responded, "Were you listening to my
conversation with Della?"

He frowned. "I
don't have time for teenage games Julie-Anne. Time will heel
everything - remember, that's what they said about you in the
village? It seems the same applies now. But I've no intention of
responding to childish conspiring, or whispered collaborations
between you silly women! Now, are you coming to this meeting or
not?"

Julie-Anne
felt embarrassed. Is that how he saw her? A silly girl whispering
about how to get her boyfriend back! "What is the meeting about?"
she managed to choke out.

"It's right up
your street. We're talking about using the space as an art gallery
- it's ideal, and I want to investigate the possibilities. If you
want to come follow me."

Without
another word she stood up and followed him out through the kitchen
door and across the yard to the steps that led up to the West
Gallery.

It was an
impossibly large space. "It's eighty-one feet long and some
eighteen feet wide." he explained to her as they climbed toward it.
When he opened the door and she looked in Julie-Anne gasped with
delight. Then her heart sunk with shame as he added, quietly, for
her ears only, "This space is one of the reasons I wanted to buy
this place - it seemed to me that you could really do something up
here. Show your own stuff and bring in works that you thought were
worthy of a gallery of your own."

"Oh Russell!"
she breathed, looking earnestly up into his eyes. "I'm such a
fool."

But before she
could go any further her heart was given another jolt as the
overloud voice of Freddy cut through the air from the far end of
the gallery. "There you are - you naughty girl!" Freddy laughed
harshly.

Julie-Anne's
eyes darted wildly from Russell to Freddy and back, 'This is
awful!' she thought, 'Not Freddy - anything but Freddy.' She smiled
weakly as Freddy swept along the gallery towards them, her
multicoloured patchwork dress-coat flowing and billowing behind her
in a typical Freddy overstatement.

"Freddy! And
where's Grace?" The question was out before Julie-Anne had really
thought through the repercussions. She didn't want Russell to think
she was preoccupied by some false jealousy regarding poor, timid
little Grace. She'd accepted that her suspicions about what went on
between Russell and Grace were wholly unfounded and very silly. She
glanced up to him and grinned, hoping he could see her
thoughts.

"Oh Grace is
lucky enough to be very busy down in London - our own gallery is
already beginning to cause a stir don't y'know!" Freddy announced.
"She gets to stay in civilisation while poor old moi has to gad
about out here in the sticks, among you country bumpkins!" Arriving
at Julie-Anne's side Freddy threw her arms around her and
air-kissed either side of her cheeks. "You're so little and skinny
darling!" Freddy was drawling, "Do you ever eat? Why you're
positively melting away. Russell! You're not looking after her now,
are you?"

"She's quite
capable of looking after herself!" Russell snapped impatiently.
Looking irritated he stepped away from Freddy, moving along the
gallery, inspecting the walls and looking around as if to imagine
how the place could look.

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