Gabriel's Promise (Gabriel's Inferno)

by Sylvain Reynard

  Julia drank more coffee. “I suppose if the man is a professional, he’d try to keep a low profile. If he’s good at what he does, he won’t get caught, which means he wouldn’t have a record.”

  “That was Nicholas’s assessment as well.”

  “Gabriel, I hope this doesn’t mean you’re planning on keeping us in Miami indefinitely.”

  “No.” Gabriel stopped the stroller and moved to the side. He caught the toy bunny that was dangling from its leash and placed it on the tray in front of Clare. She grabbed it and hugged it. “Rebecca says she wants to go back to the house, but I asked her to wait for us.”

  “And what did she say?” Julia felt into step with Gabriel as he continued pushing the stroller.

  “She relented. I think she misses us, but since we aren’t there, she’s content to have a longer stay with her son. Although it sounds like he isn’t home much, because he’s working.”

  “She’s probably spoiling him with her cooking.”

  “No doubt.” Gabriel helped himself to his own (hot) coffee, which was resting in the stroller’s (pretentious) cup holder. “How are you doing with Wodehouse’s reading list, now that Rachel has sent you your books?”

  “It’s coming. I think if I work on it every day, I’ll make progress. It’s when I skip a day that I run into problems, because I forget where I am and have to reread passages. How about you?”

  “It’s coming along.” Gabriel’s features brightened, as they always did when he had the opportunity to talk about Dante. “What do you think of the river of Lethe?”

  “Um, I don’t know. I think it’s the river of forgetfulness in Purgatory, right?’

  “Correct. There’s a debate in the literature as to how much forgetfulness it bestows on a human being. Some commentators argue it’s a river of oblivion.”

  “I don’t think that’s right. The souls in Paradise have memory. So whatever the role of the river, it can’t be complete forgetfulness.”

  “Exactly,” Gabriel agreed excitedly. “This is one of the things Rachel has been struggling with. She picked up this notion that the blessed in Heaven are entirely removed from those of us still on earth—as if they’d forgotten about us or can’t be bothered about us.”

  “Paradise has to be better than that. However, there is that strange passage in The Divine Comedy where Dante can’t remember what Beatrice is talking about and she says it’s because he drank from Lethe.”

  “There’s the conundrum. That’s part of what I’m trying to work out for my lectures. Beatrice says the waters will affect his sad memories.”

  “And the three virtues say he’s faithful to her after he’s drunk from the river. I think that’s strange—that he needs to drink of forgetfulness in order to be faithful.”

  Gabriel wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m not sure that’s what’s happening. In any case, he hasn’t lost all his memories. He asks for Beatrice in the next canto. And in the canto after that, she exhorts him to leave behind fear and shame.”

  “Fear and shame.” Julia froze. “Can we sit down for a minute?”

  “Are you all right?” Gabriel crowded close, his hand going to her lower back.

  “Yes, but I think you’ve said something important. Is there a place to sit?”

  Gabriel looked around. “Just past the church, there’s some trees and a low wall; we can sit there.” He grabbed her hand and piloted her forward.

  When they reached the wall, he positioned Clare under the shade of the trees, facing him, and he and Julia sat down.

  He placed his hand on her knee. “What is it?”

  “I was just thinking about what you said about fear and shame. When I look back on my life, there are a lot of things I was ashamed about. And I’m still afraid of things.”

  “Julianne, you don’t need to be afraid. Not anymore.”

  Julia entwined her fingers with his. “When you heal from a wound, you’re supposed to move on. You should remember the lesson you learned, but not focus on the pain. I think that’s Dante’s point about the river Lethe. We need to forget the pain and put aside fear, and shame, and guilt, but remember the lesson.”

  “I think that’s in line with what he’s trying to communicate. But his exchanges with Beatrice are puzzling. After he drinks from Lethe, he says he can’t remember being a stranger to her. But we know he reacted to her scolding with shame in a previous passage.”

  “Lethe takes away the shame.”

  “But the memory of inconstancy seems to be gone, too. That’s the problem I’m having. I think your account is healthier, but in canto thirty-three he says he doesn’t remember the estrangement, nor does his conscience trouble him.”

  “Yes,” Julia conceded. “That is a problem.”

  “Since we’re on the subject . . .” Gabriel toyed with the ruby-and-diamond trinity ring he’d given her after Clare’s birth. “Beatrice uses the allusion if smoke is proof of fire to argue that Dante’s forgetfulness is evidence of a fault in his will.”

  “Smoke isn’t proof of fire.”

  “Exactly. Smart girl.” Gabriel touched her ring again. “There’s a puzzle there—a puzzle inside a puzzle. Someone reading quickly would pass over Beatrice’s remarks, finding nothing wrong with them. But if you stop to think about it, smoke isn’t proof of fire; it’s evidence of fire, perhaps, but not proof. Smoke could be caused by other things.”

  “Rarely, but yes.”

  “I think Dante wants us to dig a little deeper to excavate the allusion to forgetfulness and Lethe. And that’s what I’m working on as part of the lectures.”

  “I hope you figure it out.” Julia smiled. “I have no clue.”

  “Sure, you do.” He admired her manicured fingers, evidence of her trip to the hotel spa. “You’re my muse. You help me see things I can’t see. And you propel me to be a better man as well as a better scholar.”

  “It’s funny to hear that since I’m still a student.”

  “Wise people are always students. It’s when you think you’re beyond learning that you’re really in trouble.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers.

  “Happy anniversary, darling.”

  “Happy anniversary.”

  Clare threw her bunny over the side of the stroller and stared in dismay as it dangled out of reach. She hadn’t figured out yet that she could pull on the tether to retrieve it. She pointed to the bunny and made an indignant noise.

  “Princess Clare commands me.” Gabriel mock sighed. He retrieved the bunny and had it kiss Clare on the cheek.

  “Lunch?” he asked. “I suppose we should have Italian, given the theme of our conversation.”

  “I was thinking of sushi, since Dr. Rubio banned me from eating it for so long.”

  “We need to go through her list of banishments and indulge in all of them. There’s one in particular I have a craving for.” He paused, and hurried to clarify, “Next week, of course.”

  “Yes, please.” Julia’s stomach flipped in anticipation.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  January 28, 2013

  Now is our chance.” Gabriel took Julia’s hand after sunset, fairly dragging her through the living room of their suite and out to the balcony.

  On this occasion, he’d switched off the lights inside the pool as well as those on the balcony. Candles were positioned around the pool and the Jacuzzi, offering a low, warm illumination.

  He’d chosen Latin guitar music again but kept the volume low so as not to wake the baby.

  “Our chance for what?” Julia noticed that the daybed hadn’t been made. Instead, Gabriel had placed their bathrobes on the bed, along with a stack of towels. In a dark corner of the balcony, the Jacuzzi hummed and bubbled.

  “A midnight swim, before midnight.” He tugged her toward the edge of the pool.

 
“I need to change.” She tried to pull away, but he kept her close.

  “You don’t need to change.”

  Without words, he divested himself of his shirt and trousers until he stood barefoot in his boxer shorts. Then he waited.

  Julia inspected their surroundings, just to be certain no one could see. She stood near him, as if he were a shield, and pulled her blouse and skirt off.

  “May I?” He wrapped a hand around her waist and drew her closer.

  She nodded.

  He unfastened her bra and dropped it to the deck. Out of chivalry, he dropped his shorts before tugging her underwear down her shapely legs.

  Taking her hand, he walked her to the edge of the pool and step-by-step down into the water.

  He descended below the surface completely and when he emerged, he wiped the water from his face and smoothed back his hair. Water droplets clung to his shoulders and across his chest, glistening like little jewels atop his tattoos.

  Julia decided to mimic him, and she, too, descended below the surface. When she emerged, he was standing in front of her.

  He touched her face, an illegible expression on his own. He pulled her so they were flush against one another, the water rising to the tops of her breasts.

  He kissed her.

  It had been a week since they had loved one another and so his embrace was urgent, his pace quick.

  Julia lifted her arms to his neck, clinging to him in the water. She kissed him back.

  His hands slid down her arms to her shoulders, his palms smoothing across them. He reached below the water to cup her breast. His fingertips traced her nipple.

  She reacted with a sharp intake of breath. She pushed her breast into his hand.

  He passed his fingers over both of her breasts and brought his mouth to hers.

  She leaned against him and he took her weight.

  When he broke the kiss, he took her hand again, leading her back to the staircase. “It’s warmer in the Jacuzzi.” He gave her a dazzling smile.

  He helped her up the stairs and down into the swirling, foam-capped water.

  The water felt scalding against her skin, but once she submerged herself, she found herself enjoying the warmer temperature.

  She gazed over at Gabriel expectantly.

  He lifted his arms—an invitation.

  She crossed to where he was seated and sat on his lap, legs dangling under water on either side of his.

  His hands smoothed down the curves of her waist to where her hips flared. He squeezed, making an eager sound, and urged her closer.

  Her breasts brushed against his chest as she felt him rise between her legs.

  His hand passed over her navel and moved down, down. He lifted his head so he could see her eyes, just as his finger made contact.

  Julia gasped and rested her hands on either side of his neck, leaning forward.

  He continued to touch her, his hand jostled by the hot, swirling water. Then he slipped a single finger inside.

  She lifted herself up, allowing him more room.

  He moved in and out, gently stimulating her, his thumb pressing up against her.

  When she was close, she pushed his hand aside and gripped him firmly. She lifted up and, guided by his hands on her hips, slowly sank down until she rested on his lap.

  Gabriel groaned.

  She used his shoulders for leverage and lifted herself up before slowly, slowly sinking down.

  His fingers dug into her hips as she rolled forward on his lap. Then she was ascending and descending, up and down, her gaze dropping to the image of Jacob’s ladder on his chest.

  Gabriel’s hand left her hip to lift her chin. His blue eyes seared into hers.

  Up and down. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. His teeth bit into his lower lip as she rolled forward once again.

  Ascending and descending. His hands began to lift and pull down, over and over. She ground herself against him.

  He reached forward and kissed her neck, drawing the flesh against his teeth.

  Julia rolled forward just as he thrust up, lifting his hips. His hands were a vise, keeping them joined.

  She moved back and rolled forward. He jerked and pulled her closer, continuing to thrust up and in.

  She felt him begin to lose control and bemoaned the fact she’d lost him. But then his hips shifted and she felt it, the glorious crescendo as every nerve in her body came alive. Pleasure raced along the nerves and she lost the ability to move.

  Gabriel moved for her, his hips snapping forward.

  Her head fell forward as he stilled. She felt him inside her.

  His body tensed and relaxed.

  And then his mouth was at her neck again, whispering kisses over the wet skin. “That was worth waiting for.”

  “Yes.” She hugged him and rested her chin on his shoulder. It took her a minute to catch her breath. “Let’s just stay here.”

  He kissed her nose. “All right. But I think eventually we’ll start to cook.”

  “Well, let’s get out before that happens.” She toyed with his hair, winding the strands around her fingers.

  His hands slipped slowly up and down her back, massaging her. “I’m not finished with you. Yet.”

  “Oh, really?” She sat back, searching his eyes.

  “Really. More delights await you, if you get out of the Jacuzzi.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as one of the activities Dr. Rubio expressly and closed-mindedly forbade.” Gabriel brushed his nose against Julia’s. “So let’s dry off and move to the daybed.”

  “I—I don’t know if I have another incredible orgasm in me.”

  Gabriel’s eyes narrowed with the focus of a dying man. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

  He lifted her out of the water and carried her up the steps and onto the deck. Then he placed her atop the daybed, wrapped her in a dry towel, and proceeded to best his challenge.

  Multiple times.

  Chapter Sixty

  February 4, 2013

  Cambridge, Massachusetts

  Julianne hadn’t left the light on.

  In itself, her choice was almost inconsequential. There was a night light in the wall nearby. There were lanterns that housed flameless candles in the hall, illuminating the path to the nursery, where Clare was sound asleep in her crib. But Julianne had switched off the lamp on her nightstand when she retired for the evening. By the time Gabriel joined her in bed, after a long evening spent in his home office making his own translations of Dante from Italian into English, the master bedroom was dark.

  Gabriel hovered in the doorway, surprised by the sight.

  Rebecca was asleep down the hall. She’d been working tirelessly since she arrived from the airport to make the house ready for them. And she’d made lasagne for dinner, which was one of Julianne’s favorite dishes.

  Aaron and Rachel had joined them, speaking enthusiastically about their new jobs. Rachel had brought a stack of Dunkin’ Donuts gift cards for Julianne, who accepted them gratefully.

  And Leslie, their eagle-eyed neighbor, had greeted them with a homemade apple pie and tales of a very quiet but very alert Foster Place. The upgraded security system on the Emersons’ property seemed to have accomplished its goals.

  Nevertheless, Gabriel was surprised that their first night at home after the break-in, Julianne would be sleeping so soundly, in the dark.

  He approached her side of the bed and as he did, he nearly tripped over that damn pink flamingo. Julianne had posed it like a guard dog beside her bed and she’d dressed it in an I love Miami T-shirt.

  The Professor skirted the lawn ornament with distaste, but he allowed himself a restrained chuckle. If Julianne was making jokes, she wasn’t mired in fear. And that relieved him. Greatly.

  He kissed the top of her he
ad and caressed her hair. Then he crossed to his own side of the bed and turned, admiring the repaired painting by Henry Holiday as it hung proudly on the wall opposite the bed.

  He placed his glasses and his phone on his nightstand. He opened the drawer, simply to check that the memento mori was still there, after he’d unpacked it that afternoon. He closed the drawer, slipped into bed next to his wife, and succumbed to sleep.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  April 8, 2013

  Magdalen College, Oxford

  The wintry days of February and March soon gave way to spring.

  Graham Todd emailed the fall schedule of graduate courses being offered at Edinburgh and volunteered once again to speak to Cecilia and the chair at Harvard. Julia assured him she would handle it.

  On April 6, the Emersons and Rebecca arrived in London and traveled to Oxford so that Julia could attend the Dante workshop organized by Professor Wodehouse.

  Gabriel had to return to London the day Julia was to deliver her paper, on the first day of the workshop. He was to record a series of interviews and commentaries on Dante for the BBC. The producer had indicated he only need be in London for three days, which meant he would return before the end of the workshop.

  Even so, Julia missed him and the support his physical presence gave.

  As she entered the conference room at Magdalen College, she saw it was empty, save for one person. The man in question was six foot three and had dark eyes and dark hair. He was casually dressed in a button-down shirt and jeans and carrying a jacket that had Saint Michael’s College emblazoned on the back.

  “Paul.” Julia greeted him shyly. Although he’d sent a card and a gift when Clare was born, this was the first time they’d seen one another since the last time they’d both been in Oxford.

  After that, Paul had written to her saying he didn’t want contact. Julia could still feel the sting of her friend’s rejection, almost two years later.

  “Jules!” Paul raced toward her and picked her up in a bear hug. “How are you? It’s good to see you.”