Beautiful in My Eyes (8 page)

Francis Bacon

M
ark and Sara's wedding is held at a reception hall owned by a family friend and is absolutely beautiful. Red and white floral decorations lit up by strands of clear Christmas lights adorn the entire hall. There is a live band playing during the reception, and even from where I stand in the kitchen, they sound great.

A moment later, a familiar voice takes me by complete surprise. I dash into the dance hall and hurry to the front, gasping in happiness as I meet Julian's sensual grin. It seems Mark and Sarah had asked him to perform with the band and he hadn't told me. My sexy husband is singing solo and playing a borrowed guitar! His tie is loosened, and his white tux jacket and vest are off, leaving him wearing only the white shirt and black slacks. Both fit his muscular body like a glove. I watch the women and teenage girls around me swoon as he sings one of my favorite Scottish folk songs.

I love a lassie, a bonnie
Hielan
' lassie,

If ye saw her ye would fancy her as well.

I met her In
September,
popp'd
the question in November,

So I'll soon be
havin
'
her a
' to
masel
'!

Her
faither
has consented, so I'm
feelin
' quite contented

Cause I've been and sealed the bargain
wi
' a kiss.

I sit and weary, weary, when I think
aboot
ma
deary
,

An' you'll always hear me singing this:

He winks at me and I blow him a kiss as he sings the chorus.

'I love a lassie, a bonnie, bonnie lassie,

She's as pure as the lily in the dell,

She's as sweet as the heather,
The
bonnie
bloomin
' heather,

Giselle, ma Scotch Bluebell.'

How I love it when he does that with a song! It's his way of letting everyone know his heart is completely taken.

Julian sings to me frequently and I never tire of hearing his deep, soulful voice, especially when he is singing a romantic Scottish tune, but having him look at me this way in the crowded reception hall is nearly my undoing, and I fight the urge to jump up on stage and yank him off, then drag him into a back room for some serious loving. His grin widens, and I know
he
knows what I am thinking. Before he reaches the chorus again, he mouths,
Later,
darlin
'
, and my face grows warm.

Once the reception is over and Mark and Sara leave for their honeymoon, Julian and I decide to take a little tour of the bed and breakfast next to the reception center before leaving. The old Victorian home is for sale and owned by the same family friend. We both fall in love with the place the moment we walk in. There is cherry wood trim and molding throughout the house, and all the flooring is hardwood. It has
ten large bedrooms, each with a private bath, as well as a large formal living and dining room, and a huge kitchen, fully equipped with every modern convenience.

“It's beautiful,” I say. “I really love it, but I think I love our home more. There's just something about the plantation style that I have always favored.”

“Me, too.
Our
home really feels like home.” Wrapping his arms around me, he presses his nose against the curve of my neck. “An'
speakin
' o home, I
cannae
wait ta get ye back an' make mad passionate love ta ye in our own room.”

“I'm looking forward to that, too,” I breathe, soaking in the warmth of his body against mine. “After that performance today, I long for that more than I can say.”

“
Weel
, shall we go back an' pack then, love?” His voice is husky and full of longing.

“I'll race you to the car.”

Julian and I are walking through a Scottish meadow. The grass is the perfect shade of green and wildflowers dot the countryside, their colors vivid and crisp. My hand is tucked in his as we walk and we are talking, but he never looks at me, he just stares straight ahead.

We end up at the crest of a large hill.
A crowd of people suddenly appear
and Julian smiles, pulling me onward.

“Julian, look at me. Why won't you look at me?”

He doesn't answer. When we are a few yards away from the crowd, a strong gust of wind surges forth, lifting my hair. Then my long locks begin to peel away from my scalp and float upward with the breeze. The crowd begins to laugh and I touch my head, gasping to find all of my hair gone and I'm completely bald. Julian finally turns to
me and smiles
before throwing his head back and laughing loudly.

“This is why I
willnae
look at ye, Giselle.
Wha
' man could stand ta look at someone so repulsive.”

“You can't mean that, Julian. You can't.”

“I can an' I do.”

As the tears begin to trickle down my cheeks he laughs even harder. I again try to speak, but no words come forth and I am struck mute. Then a beautiful blond takes Julian's hand. He pulls her close and kisses her passionately, burying his fingers in her thick hair. When they part, he takes her hand and they walk away.

“Julian, please! You can't leave me! Please don't leave me?” I silently scream his name until he and the blond are but a dot in the distance. I drop to my knees and sob.

I awaken, moaning, my face wet with tears.

“Giselle,
darlin
', are ye all right?” I can't answer. “Giselle?” I try to turn away from him, but he stops me. “
Wha
' is it?”

“It was just a dream,” I finally manage.