Julia nodded and left and he and Nick watched her walk away. She was wearing a pair of snug-fitting, fawn-coloured corduroys, a skin-tight black turtleneck and her spike-heeled boots. Douglas decided his second most favourite pieces of her wardrobe were her corduroys.
Or maybe it was her boots.
“Phwoar, mate. You can pick ‘em. Fire and ice in that one, more fire than ice, lucky for you.” Douglas turned to his friend and noticed that he was avidly staring at the space where they’d last seen Julia. Nick looked at Douglas, an approving gleam was in his eyes. “You really going to marry her?”
“Yes,” Douglas replied.
“Good luck, mate, that one’s gonna be a handful.”
“Precisely,” Douglas returned and Nick threw his head back and laughed with deep appreciation.
Douglas ignored him. “We need to talk.”
There was still mirth in Nick’s eyes when he said, “I figured that. Wasn’t keen on the events of last night, was she?”
“Not particularly, no.”
Douglas walked into the lounge and Nick followed while talking. “Been telling you, since your sister died and those kids came here, that you should quit the work.”
Douglas nodded and sat down. Until he was seated he didn’t realise how badly he needed to do it.
“You gotta take it easy, mate,” Nick noted softly, his words held grave meaning.
“I need you to move into the Gate House. I’ll ask Mrs. Kilpatrick to have someone come in and clean it for you. No one’s been there in awhile.”
Nick nodded, no discussion required, he knew what Douglas was asking.
“One thing, though. You seem determined you’re gonna marry her,” Nick was back to the subject of Julia, “but she doesn’t seem to agree.”
Douglas should have told him to mind his own business but he was still tired, hungry and his shoulder ached. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger before, uncharacteristically, he shared.
“She needs a bit of convincing.”
Nick whistled. “There’s a woman out there who needs to be convinced to marry you?” he asked, clearly amazed.
“Apparently.”
Nick laughed again before saying, “I like her even more.”
And even though he’d never sought anyone’s approval, never asked for it, not since he’d given up searching for it from his father, he looked at his friend, who was his “bodyguard”, his comrade and his partner-in-crime, and said with feeling, “Good.”
* * * * *
Chaos ensued when Julia and the children arrived home, the children flying around and setting the table, introductions to Nick were seen to in short order and Lizzie prepared drinks, pouring the men’s bitters into chilled beer glasses.
As they settled in, Julia was still dumping fish and chips onto Ruby’s plate when Lizzie slid into the seat to Douglas’s left, glancing at him under her lashes. This left the seat to his right, the seat relegated to the lady of Sommersgate House, open for Julia. He didn’t react to what was, he assumed, his niece’s gentle matchmaking but was pleased to find he might have a surprising ally.
When Julia turned to take her seat, she stopped and stared. Lizzie immediately began forking huge pieces of fish into her mouth.
Yes, Douglas thought, a surprising ally.
Julia stiffly took the seat to his right, not looking at anyone and also not eating much of her meal.
Douglas found that he liked the food, although it was not a nice steak, it was, at least, filling, in a greasy way. He also liked the company. Julia fell easily into the role of hostess, going out of her way to include Nick and the children in the discussion and making Nick at ease.
Not that Nick wasn’t already at ease, in fact, Nick was enjoying himself tremendously. He was also enjoying the children, telling jokes that made them laugh. Julia eventually allowed her stiffness to recede and laughed along with them.
Douglas watched this scene with a sense of fascination, thinking, soon, this scenario, strange to him and something he’d never experienced before, was to be his life. Every night, sitting and talking with the children, laughing, eating. Afterwards there would be… whatever it was that families did after supper.
Then it would be Julia and him, alone, in his bedroom. Julia, perhaps, pulling a brush through her hair and striding around in nothing but her dressing gown.
Later, Julia in his bed, wearing nothing at all.
Something stirred deep within him, something he’d never felt, not once in his entire life. Something that was both alarming and soothing. Something, for his sanity, he firmly set aside.
The kids finished and Douglas allowed them to leave the table, taking all the plates and cutlery to put in the dishwasher. Julia went with them but came back carrying two more cans of bitter and another can of cider for herself.
“You got a job or do you look after the kids?” Nick asked as he popped open his bitter, ignoring the glass and drinking it straight from the can.
Julia had reseated herself, informally folding one leg underneath her on the chair and leaning forward to put her elbow on the table.
She poured her cider while she spoke. “I’m volunteering at a charity in Bristol.”
“Yeah? You like it?” Nick asked, genuinely interested.
Douglas watched, now captivated, as Nick’s simple question turned on a switch in Julia and she lit up. Forgetting to be stiff and aloof, she started to talk.
“I was a little worried, starting something new. I was at my old job in The States for over a decade, but it’s better than I expected, far better…” Her eyes were alight, passion in her words as she carried on.
Douglas sat back and watched her silently while she poured out information that normally would have had Nick nodding in his chair. Instead, her fervour was catching and even Nick found himself making up questions to keep her talking.
And Douglas was struck by two things. First, she was very clever, knowledgeable and accomplished and second, her work wasn’t just work, it was a calling and she loved it. There was something extraordinary in that, he’d never met anyone who had truly found their passion.
She seemed to realise she was monopolising the conversation and her eyes slid to her empty cider glass. “I’ll shut up now. I’ve got to be boring you.”
“Not at all,” Douglas assured her quietly, her gaze flew to him and he had the unflattering impression that she’d forgotten he was even there.
“Okay,” she whispered, making a decision and rising. “I’ve got to get the kids to bed. It’s past Ruby’s bedtime and she’s a bear in the morning if she doesn’t have her full night’s sleep. Nick, lovely of you to stay.” She nodded to a smiling Nick and then she quickly exited the room.
Again, both Nick and Douglas watched her leave and, finally, Nick asked, “Once I’m in your Gate House, can I come to dinner every night?”
Douglas turned to his friend. “No.”
Nick chuckled, taking no offense. “Didn’t ‘spect so. Wouldn’t want to share her myself.”
Nick left shortly after and Douglas went in search of Julia. She was in the lounge, drawing the draperies.
He stood watching her, liking the way she took care of his home, liking more the way she took care of his friend and even more the way she took care of the children but mostly the way, last night, she took care of him.
When she turned and saw him, she jumped.
“Don’t do that,” she snapped, but her voice was breathy.
“What?” he asked.
“Sneak up on me,” she explained.
“I didn’t sneak up on you,” he told her truthfully.
“You glide around like a cat, it’s bizarre. No man of your size should be so quiet.” She walked from the room, sliding by him, giving him as wide a berth as possible and went into the dining room.
Douglas followed her.
“We need to talk,” he told her as she gathered all the glasses from the table and t
urned to go to the kitchen.
“It’s late, you need your rest.” She walked away, thinking that was that and leaving him where he was. He heard distant rumbles in the kitchen as she tidied.
He thought of his options, made a quick assessment of them and then walked to her room. He turned on the lights and eased himself into the chair in the turret. He was shattered but determined to have this talk, even if Julia was just as determined to avoid it.
She came in not five minutes later and jumped again when she saw him.
“What are you doing here?” Again the breathy snap, this time with wide eyes.
“As I said, we need to talk.”
She studied him.
He waited.
“Douglas,” she finally said, her tone now beyond weary, “I didn’t get enough sleep last night. I’m exhausted, you need to recuperate, let’s talk later, okay?”
“No,” he replied.
She crossed her arms on her chest, regarded him for another moment and then gave in with ill-grace. “Well then, say what you have to say.”
He opened his mouth to begin but she interrupted.
“No, I think I want to go first.”
He closed his mouth and lifted a brow.
“I think…” she started and stopped. “No, that isn’t right. I thank you for…” she stopped again and then looked away, emitting a frustrated noise that Douglas decided was bloody adorable then she started again. “Your attention and your stated intentions are very nice and I appreciate them. I… I’m honoured,” she stammered.
He watched her, not saying a word and not finding her adorable any longer mainly because he did not like that she considered his intention to marry her “very nice”.
“But,” she shifted uncomfortably and then looked at him before suddenly and exasperatedly bursting out, “quit staring at me like that!”
“Like what?”
“Like… like that!” she retorted, with a jerk of her head toward him, clearly thinking her words were an explanation (which they were not).
He lifted his good hand, palm up.
“Oh forget it, forget the chat too, I’m tired,” she snapped.
“Julia.” He stood, deciding it was time to take control of the conversation. She whirled on him and he expected another one of her brilliant tirades, a pouring forth of one of her lists. But instead her shoulders drooped, she turned her head to the side and she pulled a shaking hand through her hair.
“I can’t believe you’ve been shot,” she whispered. “What on earth are you doing that puts you in the way of a bullet? What is it that the police can’t be involved?” He walked toward her and she turned her face to him. “I want to be your friend, Douglas. I think I could be happy here, with the kids, in this house, having a challenging job. If you would just help a little and be my friend.” Her voice was aching and he felt an odd, unfamiliar feeling of tenderness as he stopped before her. “But I can’t let myself like you if I think something’s going to happen to you. I have to protect myself, protect the children.”
She was suffering from a hint of post-traumatic stress, he imagined, and he moved closer to her, gathering her warm body in his one good arm.
She leaned away, arching her back against his arm and looking up at him.
“I talked with Nick today,” he explained quietly.
He felt a hint of gratification when her eyes flared with hope. “Yes?”
“Yes,” he assured her and saw, as well as felt, the relief flood through her as she realised what he was saying. He felt the strange stirring again at the thought of doing something of which she so obviously approved.
“I’m glad. For us and for you too,” she whispered.
“Now,” he said, setting that topic aside, “about your being my friend.”
She nodded her head. “I’d really like that, Douglas.”
“I would too.” His gaze dropped to her lips and he watched the tips come up in a happy smile.
“I’m so glad,” she breathed, more relief, so much it made her tense body relax against his. “This is going to work so well, I promise,” she stated brightly, obviously misinterpreting what he said.
“Julia.” She was pushing against his arm trying to get away; he tightened it and swept her against his body. He felt her soft breasts press against his arm in the sling and the warmth of her body and he liked both.
“Oh,” she muttered, lifting her head again to look at him. “What?” She was still straining against his arm and it was causing pain in his opposite shoulder.
“Stop trying to pull away, it’s hurting me,” he told her and she immediately stilled.
They watched each other for awhile and then she gave into her curiosity and asked, “Is there something more?”
Douglas noted her tone was slightly strained.
“It’s about us being friends.”
“Yes?”
“I’d be delighted to be your friend,” he told her.
“I… I thought we’d established that. I’ll be delighted to be your friend too.”
He nodded.
So did she, but hers was jerky and unsure.
“But I also intend to be your husband.” Her body stiffened again and she started to pull away but glanced at his sling and stopped then her eyes flew to his in fear.
Douglas ignored her look, determined to move to the next phase in his strategy and went on. “Julia, I intend to be your lover.” With Julia’s soft warmth pressed so close, he could smell her. Both the feel of her and her scent made his body begin to tighten in an intensely pleasant way so that, when he spoke, his voice deepened, became hungry, as he, again, made his intentions clear but this time, he made them clearer. “I intend to sleep in sheets that smell of tangerines and jasmine. I intend to have your naked body squirming under mine. I intend to touch you everywhere with my hands and my mouth. I intend to memorise the taste of you, to make you call my name while I’m moving inside you, to make you so excited you beg me to let you come…”
“Stop it,” she whispered but her voice was husky, her frame had softened, moulding to his and, in her eyes, there was a mixture of warmth and panic.
Progress.
Now, Douglas thought, to make myself perfectly clear.
“I’ll do whatever I have to do. Even break our rule,” he promised, thinking about Lizzie.
The warmth in her eyes gave way to the panic.
“You wouldn’t!” she gasped.
“I would,” he assured her bluntly and her eyes widened then narrowed.
“That’s low,” she accused.
“I get what I want,” he vowed. “I’m a patient man but my patience is running out.”
“Why do you want to marry me? Be my lover?” Her voice rose hysterically. “Douglas, it’s mad!”
He stared at her quizzically. Could she not know her effect on him, on Nick, on Oliver, on men in general?
The thought was ludicrous, all women knew. They knew it and they used it.
All of them.
“Don’t ask ridiculous questions,” he clipped, his voice impatient. “It doesn’t suit you.”
Her mouth fell open and then snapped shut.
Suddenly, she dropped her head and exerted gentle pressure on his arm.
“Okay, fine, you’ve made your point. No truce, no compromise, the battle still rages.” She was talking quietly but sarcastically. He could not read her mood, couldn’t see her face but something in her tone made him let her go.
She quickly took several steps away.
“You should know,” she said when she looked at him, her face carefully controlled but her eyes were still glittering with something he could not read, “that there will be consequences to all of this. I doubt you’ll understand it, that it will even penetrate that reserve of yours, but it will happen.”
He had no idea what she meant and when he started to ask she shook her head.
She moved toward the dressing room. “Please, just go. For tonight, let me be the winn
er.”
Without looking back, she entered the dressing room and closed the door behind her.
After a moment of gazing at the door, he did as she asked and left.
On his way back to his rooms, he found himself thinking that, even though she said his leaving would make her the “winner”, he knew by her words, her tone, the line of her body as she walked away that she was wrong, he had won.
Not just tonight, but eventually, he knew that she understood that he’d be the ultimate victor.
And somehow, instead of making him satisfied, it made him vaguely uneasy.
Chapter Fifteen
The Emerald
The next three weeks were bedlam.
Mrs. K got the flu and Ronnie and Julia became acutely aware of just how much Sommersgate depended on her when they tried to make it run as efficiently as its housekeeper, and failed.
Furthermore, Julia and Ronnie weren’t about to let Mrs. K suffer without constant vigilance (Mr. K admitting he was hopeless playing nursemaid) so they took turns running up the hill through the wood to the Groundskeeper’s Cottage to make certain she was fed, watered and medicated.
Adding to this, Douglas informed Veronika that Nick was going to move into the Gate House as soon as possible. The Gate House hadn’t been touched in over three years. So Veronika and Julia had to find someone they trusted to clean it and give it a fresh coat of paint. Both women refused to bother Mrs. K for her contacts, which, Mr. K explained “she keeps in her head”. Hiring a cleaning team and decorator was far more difficult than expected and Nick was forced to stay in Sommersgate House in the interim. This meant one more mouth to feed for Julia (who took over the cooking after one look at Veronika’s borsht) and one more bed to make for Veronika (who always made the beds).
It was the Christmas season and all that was Christmas, decorating, shopping, wrapping, baking, cards and the kids with a variety of parties to attend. Julia had to get her presents bought, wrapped and mailed to The States. She also wanted to be certain the children, in this first Christmas without their parents, felt loved and cared for so she danced attendance on them especially.