Gift of the Black Virgin (14 page)

At six-thirty sharp the two of them knocked
on the door of what Jo already thought of as her new home. Helen,
as austere as before, seemed to be one of the few women in the
world who wasn’t enchanted by Luc’s masculine charms. She showed
them around, answering Luc’s questions simply and directly, clearly
a woman who disliked extraneous chitchat.

Jo was almost bouncing with excitement as Luc
poked and prodded, turned on taps, closed and opened doors and
cupboards, and examined the hand-carved interior shutters. He asked
about the title, the taxes, and the water, heating and sewage
systems—all things Jo hadn’t given a thought to. If she hadn’t been
so over the moon she would have felt embarrassed at her lack of
common sense. But she didn’t mind. She was
in love.

Afterwards, sitting in front of a glowing
fire in a nearby restaurant, Jo bombarded Luc with a hundred
questions. Wasn’t it just right? The location was great, wasn’t it?
It was private, yet convenient to town. Schools were nearby. Anna
and Daniel weren’t far, either. And, one of the best things, she
added, was that it was move-in ready. It didn’t need any real
renovations or upgrades. Did he like it enough to consider buying
it, she asked with fierce hope, watching him smear a piece of
crusty bread with tapenade.

“Say something. I’ve been doing all the
talking. What do you think, sweetheart?”

“It’s twice as much as we’d agreed to,
Joanna,” he said, chewing slowly.

She watched his expression as he swallowed
the bread and took a sip of heady dark wine. Then he took
another.

“I
know
. But…”

“You know how I feel about taking your
inheritance money,” he said, draining his glass.

“But you’re not
taking
it,” she
countered. “I’d be spending it on
our
house. It’s an
investment. It’s not at all the same as spending it on something
we’ll never be able to recoup—like a vacation. Or expensive wine,”
she said, holding up her glass for a refill. They’d splurged on a
bottle of
Pécharmant
costing about five times more than
their usual red.

She kept watching his face for clues as he
mulled her words. But it remained stubbornly closed to her. She
sighed. Did he really feel so threatened by the fact she had more
money than him?

“You shouldn’t feel bad about the money. It’s
not like I earned it or anything. It was a gift. An unexpected
gift.”

Then she thought of something.

She softened her voice and reached across the
table to take his hand. “Anna must have earned more than you while
you were married. How did you cope with that?”

He looked at her and shrugged. “I
survived.”

“So how is this any different?”

He cleared his throat and pulled off another
chunk of baguette. “Yes, Anna earns more than me. But she’s
self-employed and has a lot of business expenses. And it took a
long time for the real money to come in, with student loans and the
cost of setting up her practice. I don’t earn as much, but I get a
generous benefit package. It sort of evened out over the
years.”

“Oh,” Jo said, feeling defeated. She didn’t
know where to go next with this.

The main courses arrived and Luc attacked his
broiled lamb loin. Jo looked down at the duck
confit
on her
plate and sighed again. Her appetite had disappeared.

“Enjoy your duck,
ma biche.
We’ll talk
about it some more when we get home,” Luc said as he added a little
cracked pepper to his eggplant.

* * * *

Luc had a little surprise up his sleeve. But
he didn’t want to spring it on Joanna just yet. He wanted to be
absolutely sure it was the right decision—for him, for Daniel, and
for any children he and Joanna might have in the future.

As he drove home from the restaurant, feeling
warm and sated after the wine and food, he reflected on his
options.

Yes, Joanna’s right. The house is perfect for
us. The right size, the right location, an ideal set-up in the
barn. We’d be able to entertain comfortably, especially in the
summer. We could accommodate the entire family at the same time—my
father, my brother and his family, and Daniel would all be well
housed. The workshop has plenty of room for my tools, and the wine
cellar is a bonus. The pool is adequate, but the gardens—and the
views—are excellent.

And those vines! Outstanding!

But more important than all of this was the
fact that Joanna wanted it. Desperately, he knew. And he wanted her
to be happy. But…

It was so much money! Although property
values had fallen significantly over the past few years, this
particular home was still pretty pricey at just over one million
Euros. And because prices had fallen across the board, he knew that
the property he owned with Anna had devalued too. His share, when
she bought him out, would be less than he’d hoped for.

But there was an inheritance of his own to
consider. One that Joanna knew nothing about. If he sold it—or part
of it—he’d have enough money to match Joanna’s contributions. Then
they would truly be equal partners.

It’s only stuff! he told himself whenever he
felt a stab of remorse at the thought of selling it. A literal ton
of stuff I have no practical use for. It belongs in a museum,
anyway. So the rest of the world can enjoy it. I should let it
go.

Joanna was quiet during the ride, and stayed
that way after they got home. As soon as they walked through the
door, Sammy was all over them, and Joanna let him out into the
chilly night air to make his usual rat patrol.

Silently, they each got ready for bed. Luc
watched his beautiful wife slip out of her pretty lingerie and into
a nightdress. She brushed her long, thick hair and tied it up into
a twist for the night. Then she disappeared to brush her teeth.

The evenings were still chilly, so he pulled
on a pair of pajama bottoms, and then he slid between the cold
sheets to wait for her.

He listened to her light tread as she went
downstairs to let the dog in. Then he heard her footsteps return
and the light click off. He felt her climb into bed beside him,
shivering as she turned to him and crept under his arm, resting her
cheek against his chest. He could smell her face cream. And her
hair. His heart swelled with love.

Neither spoke for a moment. Then Luc felt the
time was right.

“You really want that house, don’t you?”

He felt her head nodding into his chest.

“And you think my pride is the only thing
standing between you and getting it.”

“I suppose,” she said in a little voice.

“And you think that our disagreement will
drive a wedge between us.”

He felt her body stiffen.

“No. No, that’s the last thing I’m worried
about. I wouldn’t let that happen. I’ll accept whatever you think
is best.”

She raised herself on one elbow and looked
down at him. He could just make out the shine in her eyes.

“Really?”

“Really. I will.”

He smiled at what he was about to say next,
putting up a hand to caress her face.

“I think I have a solution to our little
problem.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. You see, you’re not the only one with
an inheritance.”

“What?”

“Have you ever wondered why I became an
archaeologist?”

“You told me it was because you didn’t want
to follow in your father and brother’s footstep. Medicine didn’t
interest you. And you wanted a career that would let you work
outdoors.”

“Right. But the real reason goes back even
further.”

“To when?”

He had her full attention now, he knew.

“It was my mother, actually.”

“Your mother? How?”

“She was always interested in history and
culture. Architecture and design. She was particularly interested
in the history of the Roman Empire.”

“Did she study Roman history at school?”

“Not for long. She met my father when she was
an undergraduate in Paris, and they got married right away—she was
eight years younger than him. Only nineteen. Then my brother and I
arrived. She never did go back to finish her degree.

“But the reason she was so fascinated by the
Romans had to do with
her
inheritance.”

“Which was?”

“Her grandfather left her a collection of
Roman artifacts worthy of an entire museum. Bronzes, pottery,
marble, mosaics, jewelry, and some fabulous weaponry. Shields,
helmets, a few daggers and swords.”

Joanna said nothing so he continued.

“I essentially grew up in a house with this
stuff all around me. I just took it for granted that other families
had things like that too. It wasn’t until I was older that I
realized that the mothers of my friends didn’t grow oleander bushes
in Roman sarcophagi. No one else had legionnaires’ swords hanging
above the fireplaces. My brother and I used to play with them when
we were kids. I think he still has a scar on his arm from one of my
many miscalculations.”

Luc laughed softly at the memory.

“That must have been amazing. So what
happened to all the pieces? Does your father have them?”

“No. He never liked the stuff. After my
mother died, about ten years ago, he relocated to Lyon. All he took
were the swords and daggers to add to his collection of weaponry.
The rest of the collection was divided equally between us.”

“I get it now,” Joanna said, awe in her
voice. “The green glass bottles in the china cabinet. The
terracotta bowls on the windowsill. Daniel’s coin collection. And,
of course, the oil lamps. They’re all Roman. Where are the other
pieces?”

“Well, Anna has some of the smaller toiletry
items, and some beads, but the rest of my half is in a very
expensive storage facility. It’s really too valuable to be sitting
around in a house without a security system. And a lot of the bits
are too big, anyway. I have one of the sarcophagi. Can you
imagine?”

“Not really.” Joanna’s voice sounded far
away. He hugged her closer and kissed her forehead.

“Joanna, the collection is worth a lot of
money. I always thought that I would keep it forever, pass it down
to my children, you know?”

He felt her stiffen again. Then he could just
make out her nod in the darkness.

“But it seems wrong, somehow, to have it
hidden away. It belongs in the world. I have no right to hoard it.
So I’ve decided that I want to sell it and put the money towards
the house that we both know is just right for us.”

“Luc!” She rolled into him and put both hands
on his cheeks. “Are you serious?”

He could hear the disbelief in her voice.

“Yeah. I am. I’ve often thought about how I
shouldn’t even have it. I mean I have no right to it. My mother
didn’t have any right to it. Her grandfather looted it from some
cache somewhere in North Africa. It’s essentially stolen. And it
should be returned to wherever it came from. But we don’t really
know where that was.”

“But what about Daniel! It’s meant to go to
him, one day.”

“And our other children, too,” Luc said with
another kiss to her forehead. “But if I sell it and
invest
the money, as you put it, in the family home, they will still have
their inheritance. It will just take another form, that’s all.”

Jo was silent, thinking, he assumed, of the
ramifications of this new turn of events.

He said, “Let’s talk about it some more
tomorrow. And if we agree, I’ll call to book an inspection of the
property. Then we can get this ball rolling.”

“But we still have seven months left on our
lease.”

“To hell with the lease. We’ll figure it
out.”

She giggled. “But did you see the bathtub?
It’s too small.”

“To hell with the bathtub. We’ll get a bigger
one. Now, why don’t you let me get you out of this nightgown.”

Chapter Nine

Jo helped Luc pull her nightgown over her
head and then nestled back down alongside the man she was just
getting to know. Her husband was still an enigma to her.

At first she was shocked when he confessed to
harboring a valuable collection of looted Roman antiquities. Then
she softened as she considered his offer.

He’s willing to sell it so I can have my
house. So we can have our house, she corrected herself.

Tears wet her eyes as she realized for about
the thousandth time how lucky she was. She put her arms around his
big chest and rubbed the length of her body along his. He was naked
now, too, and hard and smooth and already aroused. He kissed her
deeply and the taste of his mouth sent a jolt of exquisite pleasure
directly to her belly. Although her limbs felt heavy and weak with
her desire for passivity, she managed to wriggle on top of him,
maneuvering the head of his penis so that it rested between her
slick labia.

She rubbed her mouth along his stubbled jaw
line, loving the rasp of his day-old beard. His skin held the
lingering scent of his shaving soap, and she breathed in
deeply.

“You smell so good to me. Do you know how
wonderful you are?”

“Mm hm.”

“And do you know that I love you more every
day?”

“Mm hm.”

“And now I’m going to show you how much I
love you.”

“You go right ahead.”

She slipped her body up and over his cock so
that it slid into her as surely as a finger into a glove. Then she
leaned back, picked up his hands, placed them on her breasts and
started to move.

She rotated her hips slowly, sensuously,
satisfied when she heard him begin to make that low guttural sound
that told her he was well on his way.

Then she sat up straighter and lifted her
knees so that her feet were alongside his hips where she had more
control. From that position she began to add some upward movement
to her gyrations, making a kind of spiral motion.