Gabriel's Rapture gi-2

by Sylvain Reynard

  encased by Gabriel’s platinum band.

  Julia and Rachel exchanged a look and shook their heads.

  Gabriel regarded the way that Julia’s countenance fell and quickly abandoned his salad (which was laden pretentiously with both fruit and nuts), and hastily embraced her.

  “Trust me,” he whispered, so quietly that no one else could hear.

  She murmured her acquiescence, and he squeezed her tightly

  before kissing her.

  “Get a room.” Aaron snickered.

  Gabriel’s Rapture

  “Oh, we have one.” Gabriel glanced at him sideways.

  “We have two, actually.” Julia sighed in resignation.

  When they sat down for dinner, Richard asked everyone to hold

  hands while he said the blessing. He thanked God for his family, for Tammy, Quinn, and Julia, for his new son-in-law, and for the friendship of the Mitchells. He thanked God for his wife and her memory

  and he pointed out that the seeds she had planted with her children, her husband, and her friends had come to fruition. And when he said

  “Amen,” everyone wiped at their eyes and smiled, more thankful than they could say that the family was together and strong once again.

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  After dinner, Tammy and Scott cleaned up while Rachel and Aaron

  practiced their parenting skills with Quinn. On the back porch,

  Richard and Tom smoked cigars and drank Scotch, while watching

  old Mr. Bancroft carry things from the garage into the woods. Richard gave Tom a knowing look, and the two men clinked glasses.

  Inside the house, Gabriel took Julia’s hand and led her upstairs.

  “Wear something warm,” he said as they walked into her room. “I

  want to take you for a walk.”

  “It isn’t that cold out,” she remarked, as she pulled on one of

  Gabriel’s old cashmere cardigans.

  He’d divested his wardrobe of cardigans after Julia informed him

  that they made him look like a grandfather.

  (Or a PBS host.)

  Upon hearing that, Gabriel was only too glad to donate his

  cardigans to the Salvation Army, with the exception of one or two

  that Julia rescued.

  “I don’t want you to catch cold,” he protested, tugging playfully

  on her sweater.

  “I have you to warm me,” she countered, winking at him.

  After winding her Magdalen College scarf around her neck, Ga-

  briel escorted her downstairs, through the kitchen and outside.

  “Going for a walk, Emerson?” Tom’s voice surprised them.

  “With your permission, Mr. Mitchell.”

  Tom patted the Swiss Army knife in his coat pocket. “If you

  make her cry, I’ll gut you like a fish.”

  Gabriel’s Rapture

  “I’ll take good care of her, I promise. And if I make her cry, I’ll dry her tears.”

  Tom snorted and muttered something under his breath.

  Julia gazed between Gabriel and Tom quizzically. “What’s going

  on?”

  “Gabriel is taking you for a walk, with my blessing.” Her father

  spoke with only the slightest of scowls.

  “And mine,” interjected Richard, his gray eyes alive with

  amusement.

  “You two need to lay off the Scotch.” Julia shook her head at the

  men as Gabriel pulled her into the dense, thick trees.

  “What was that all about?” she asked as they trudged hand in

  hand toward the remains of the old orchard.

  “You’ll see.” Gabriel kissed the top of her head before quickening their pace. He grinned as he inhaled her scent. “You smell like vanilla.”

  “I got sick of lavender.”

  “So did I.”

  Within minutes they were at the edge of the orchard. Despite the

  fact that the trees were very thick, Julia saw light streaming through the branches.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Come and find out.” He led her through the trees.

  There were smal white lights decorating some of the branches of

  the trees overhead and lanterns scattered on the ground containing flameless flickering candles. Amidst the gentle light, which cast a warm glow over the stark, bare trees and the old grass, there stood a white tent. Inside, a bench was spread with a familiar looking blanket and decorated with cushions.

  “Oh, Gabriel,” she whispered.

  He walked with her to the tent, encouraging her to sit down.

  “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble. I would have been

  happy with this old blanket and the ground. That’s what we used

  before.”

  “I like spoiling you.” His eyes caught hers, and she lost her breath as a simmering intensity shone from their blue depths. “Would you

  like a drink?”

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  He withdrew, walking over to a low table on which rested a cham-

  pagne bucket and two champagne flutes. She nodded and watched

  as he expertly opened the champagne bottle and poured two glasses.

  He returned to her side. “Shall we toast?”

  “Of course.” She glanced at the alcohol in his hand. “We could

  drink something else.”

  “Just a sip for me. To Julianne, my beloved.” He raised his glass.

  “I think we should drink to us.”

  “That too. To us.” He smiled, and they toasted one another before sipping their champagne.

  “How did you do all of this? It must have taken hours.” Julia

  gazed at the spectacle around them.

  “Old Mr. Bancroft has been taking care of the house and grounds

  while I’m away. I asked him to arrange everything while we were

  eating dinner. May I?” He reached into a bowl of strawberries and

  chose the largest, ripest one and held it out to her.

  Gabriel brought the red fruit to Julia’s lips, smiling widely as she took half of it into her mouth before biting down. “You’ll find that it complements the taste of the champagne.”

  Julia laughed as some of the juice from the berry escaped her

  mouth. She moved to wipe it with her hand, but Gabriel’s fingers were faster. He traced her lips slowly, capturing the juice, and transferred his fingers to his own mouth before sucking on them.

  “Delicious,” he murmured.

  As he repeated this ritual, Julia began to feel strangely light-

  headed. Gabriel’s sensuality, even bridled, was dizzying in the extreme.

  She reached over to return the favor and was stunned when, after

  swallowing, he drew one of her fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it.

  “Sweet like candy,” he mused, his voice throaty and thick.

  He sat next to her on the bench and placed his arm around her,

  drawing a single finger across her trembling lower lip.

  “Do you have any idea what you do to me? The flush of your

  cheeks, the warmth of your skin, the speed of your heart…” He

  shook his head. “It’s beyond words.”

  Julia unbuttoned her sweater and placed his palm flush against

  her chest. “Feel my heart beat. You do this to me, Gabriel.”

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  He glanced down at where his palm was placed. “I intend to

  elicit that reaction for the rest of my life.”

  He captured her lips with his in a fiery kiss before withdrawing

  his hand to hover at her cheek. “I brought you here because this is where it all began. You changed my life that night. I’ll never be able to thank you.”

  “Your love is thanks enough.”


  He kissed her sweetly.

  “Where is the music coming from?” Julia looked around for a

  stereo system but couldn’t find one.

  “Mr. Bancroft provided the means to have music.”

  “It’s lovely.”

  “Not half as lovely as you. You brought beauty to my life the

  instant I met you.” Gabriel tightened his grip around her. “I still can’t believe I have you in my arms after all these years, and that you love me.”

  “I always loved you, Gabriel. Even when you didn’t recognize me.”

  Julia pressed her head to his heart as he hummed along to the music.

  When the song was replaced by a new one, Gabriel murmured

  against her skin. “I have a gift for you.”

  “Just kiss me.”

  “I’ll rain kisses on you once you let me present my gift.” He

  pulled something out of his jacket and handed it to her. It was an announcement written in Italian on very expensive card stock.

  “What is it?” She looked up at him.

  “Read it,” he urged, his eyes alight.

  The announcement was from the Uffizi Gallery in Florence and

  it declared the opening of an exclusive exhibit of an extraordinary collection of Botticelli illustrations of Dante’s Divine Comedy, some of which had never before been seen in public. The announcement

  went on to declare that the exhibit was on loan to the Uffizi from Professor Gabriel Emerson, as a gift to his fidanzata, Miss Julianne Mitchell.

  She gaped at him in surprise. “Gabriel, your illustrations. I can’t believe it.”

  “My happiness has made me generous.”

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  “But what about the legal issues? And how you bought them?”

  “My lawyer hired a team of experts to trace the provenance, which

  ends in the late nineteenth century. After that, no one knows to whom they belonged. And since they were always part of a private collection, I own them legally and rightfully. Now I want to share them.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Julia flushed and looked down at the ground.

  “But my name shouldn’t be attached to the exhibition. The illustrations are yours.”

  “I’m only sharing them because of you.”

  Julia reached up a hand to touch his jaw. “Thank you. What

  you’re doing is very generous. I always thought that those pictures should be available for people to see and to enjoy.”

  “You taught me not to be selfish.”

  She moved to kiss him, eagerly tasting his mouth. “You taught

  me to accept gifts.”

  “Then we’re a matched set.” He cleared his throat as he pushed

  a lock of hair away from her face. “Will you accompany me to the

  exhibition? We’ll schedule it for the summer. Dottore Vitali would like to host a reception for us, similar to the one he held last year for my lecture.”

  “Of course I will.”

  “Good. Perhaps we’ll be able to find a private corner of the mu-

  seum so we can…”

  “I’d like nothing more, Professor.” She winked.

  Gabriel tugged at his collar involuntarily.

  “Do you want to get married in Florence next summer? We could

  have the wedding while we’re visiting the exhibition.”

  “No.”

  His eyes sought the ground as disappointment spread across

  his face.

  “Next summer would be far too late. What about next month?”

  Gabriel’s eyes flew to hers. “I’d marry you tomorrow, if I could.

  But are you sure? It doesn’t leave us much time to plan a wedding.”

  “I want our wedding to be small. I’m tired of living alone. I want to be with you.” She brushed his ear with her lips. “And it isn’t only because I want to have you warm my bed.”

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  A growl escaped Gabriel’s chest, and he kissed her firmly. She

  sighed into his mouth, and the two embraced warmly before he

  pulled back.

  “What about your studies?”

  “Lots of graduate students are married. Even if I only see you in

  bed at night it will be more than I see you now. Please don’t make me wait.”

  He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “As if the waiting wasn’t killing me as well. Where should we get married?”

  “Assisi. It’s always been an important place for me, and I know

  it’s important to you too.”

  “Then Assisi it is, as soon as possible. Honeymoon to be deter-

  mined?” He lifted his eyebrows suggestively. “Or is there somewhere particular you’d like to go? Paris? Venice? Belize?”

  “Anywhere would be wonderful as long as I’m with you.”

  He squeezed her tightly. “Bless you for that. I’l make it a sur-

  prise, then.”

  She kissed him again and within moments, felt the world spin-

  ning around her. Everything fell away as she melted in his arms.

  “I have something else I want to show you,” he said at length,

  dragging his lips from hers.

  He clasped her hand in his and walked over to the old apple tree

  that stood on the edge of the clearing.

  He turned to face her, eyes full of feeling. “The first time we met, I picked an apple from this tree.”

  “I remember.”

  “The apple represented what my life was like at that time — carnal, selfish, violent, a magnet for sin.”

  Julia watched as he sank to one knee, pulling a golden apple

  out of his pocket.

  “This apple represents what I’ve become — full of hope. And love.”

  She looked at the apple before her eyes sought his.

  “Has a man ever asked you to marry him before?”

  She shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “Then I’m glad I’m your first.”

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  He opened the apple like a magic box and Julia saw a sparkling

  diamond ring nestled against a fold of red velvet.

  “I want to be your first and your last. I love you, Julianne. I offer you my heart and my life.

  “Marry me. Be my wife, my friend, my lover, and my guide. Be

  my blessed Beatrice and my adored Julianne.” His voice wavered

  slightly. “Say you’ll be mine. Forever.”

  “Yes,” Julia managed, before the tears overtook her.

  Gabriel removed the ring from the apple and placed it gently on

  her finger before caressing her hand with his lips.

  “I chose this ring a long time ago, when I picked out the wedding

  bands. But it can be returned.” His voice was wistful. “I know you might want to choose your own rings.”

  Julia examined the two-and-a-half-carat, cushion-cut diamond

  in its platinum setting. The ring was old-fashioned with smaller,

  bead set diamonds that surrounded the central stone and graduated

  side stones that decorated the band. Although it was far larger and more ornate than she had ever dreamed of, it was perfect because

  he chose it for her.

  “I choose this one,” she said.

  He stood up and she flew into his arms.

  “I’ve wanted you forever. Since I first saw your picture,” she said as her happy tears spilled onto his chest. “I wanted you even before I knew you.”

  “I wanted you when I didn’t even know your name — just your

  goodness. And now I get to keep my Beatrice forever.”

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  Chapter 53

  A few days later, Paul received an email from Julia announcing

  her engagement. It made him ill. Reading and re-reading he
r

  words didn’t ameliorate his situation. Not one bit. But he did so

  anyway, if not to torture himself then to have her new status indelibly impressed on his mind.

  Dear Paul,

  I hope this email finds you well. I’m sorry it took me so long to

  answer your last message. Grad school is kicking my butt, and

  I feel so behind in everything. But I’m loving it. (By the way,

  thank you for the recommendation of Ross King’s books. I

  don’t have much time to read these days, but I’m going to pick

  up Brunelleschi’s Dome.)

  One of the reasons I don’t have much time to read is because

  I’m engaged. Gabriel has asked me to marry him and I said

  yes. We’d hoped to get married quickly, but were unable to

  book the basilica in Assisi until January 21st. Gabriel has

  personal ties with the Franciscans, which is the only reason we

  were able to book the basilica in so short a time.

  I’m very happy. Please be happy for me.

  I’m sending your invitation to your apartment in Toronto. We’re

  also inviting Katherine Picton.

  I’ll understand if you can’t or don’t want to attend, but it was

  important to me to invite the people I care about. Gabriel has

  rented a house in Umbria for the wedding guests to stay in

  before and after the wedding. You’d be most welcome. I know

  my father would be happy to see you again too.

  You’ve been nothing but a good friend to me, and I hope that

  someday I’ll be able to repay the favor.

  Sylvain Reynard

  With affection,

  Julia.

  P.S. Gabriel didn’t want me to mention this, but he’s the one

  who persuaded Professor Picton to supervise your dissertation.

  I asked her but she refused. Surely he isn’t as bad as you

  thought?

  Paul’s gratitude for Gabriel’s generosity didn’t erase the sudden

  sharp pain he felt at the realization that he’d just lost Julia. Again.

  Yes, he’d already lost her, but before Gabriel’s return there was

  the possibility that Julia would change her mind, even if that possibility was remote. Somehow the knowledge that she was going to

  marry him smarted so much more than if she had been marrying, say, some other schmuck called Gabriel. Like Gabriel-the-plumber or Gabriel-the-cable-guy.

  Shortly after she emailed Paul, Julia received a package in her