The Art of Love: Origins of Sinner's Grove (20 page)

Unbidden, the Wolff, as she called him, came to mind. Why couldn’t she find a nice young man who made her feel the way he’d made her feel—even if just for a moment—the other night? Was that too much to ask for? “Oh, I’ll be all right, Sandy. Truly. I’ll be so busy that I won’t even notice—”

“—that your life is passing you by? There is more to existence than indigo and turpentine, you know.”

Lia reached for Sandy’s hand across the small table. “I’ll tell you what I know. I know that you are a wonderful, loving man, and Roger or whomever you choose will be very lucky to snag your heart.” Her voice started to hitch. “Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done without you these past three years. You’ve been my family. I’m going to miss you terribly—including your mushy stew—but it’s time. You know it’s time.”

Sandy nodded. “I’m going to miss you too, darling. Ah, speaking of family, I picked up the mail today. There’s a letter from Emma, I believe.” He went to the hall table and brought an envelope back to Lia. She opened it quickly and scanned it, covering her mouth as tears formed in her eyes. “I knew it!” she cried.

“What?!” Sandy reached over to steady her.

“My sister’s pregnant—with twins! I knew that old reprobate Hiram was the cause of the problem and not her. She says she’s five months along and doing fine.” Lia clasped the letter to her chest and looked heavenward. “Oh, God, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She looked back at Sandy, who wore a sad expression. “What?” she asked, frowning.

“I’m happy for Emma and your ex-husband, but why in blazes can’t that be you?” He spoke gently to soften the words.

Tears in her eyes, Lia smiled back and shook her head. “I don’t know, Sandy. But you can’t just force love like theirs to happen. I tried, remember? What will be, will be.”

Sandy got up to clear the table. “I know, but still…”

“Still, there are things to feel good about. My little boy gets to be a big brother, and I’m going to be an auntie. That’s something to celebrate, no matter what.”

Later that night Lia penned a letter to her sister, telling her how happy she was to hear about the pregnancy and wishing her well. She asked how Little Georgie was reacting to the news and asked that Emma give him some extra hugs and kisses to let him know how special he would always be, no matter how many siblings he had.

Lia rubbed the phantom ache in her chest where thoughts of her son resided. She took comfort in the fact that Little Georgie was surrounded by love, with even more on the way. Rather than dwell on what she’d lost, she shared with Emma the positive changes in her own life, including the big commission for the Firestones, which she had just completed and which the world would see on New Year’s Day. She had high hopes, she said, that more work would follow. She talked about her upcoming invitation to have dinner with Will Firestone and other guests on Christmas Eve, and her eminent move to a new home of her own. She even mentioned Sandy’s latest love. She passed over her lackluster feelings for Charles Keith, and she most definitely left out the incident at the art exhibit. She knew that of all her news, Emma would relate to that one the most; her passion for George had always been that electric. But the idea of feeling it once and never feeling it again just seemed beyond sad, and this was no time to be sad. Not if she could help it.

CHAPTER TWENTY

N
ew Year’s Day dawned bright, clear, and cold. Gus rose early and dressed in casual clothes to take a long run around his estate. Having given Mrs. Coats the day off, he made himself coffee and toast, and helped himself to some leftover roast beef. He worked in his garden until his hands went numb from the cold, then retired to his study to review the papers Will had left him before Christmas, and to go over his accounts for the past year.

He spent a leisurely, if lonely day, and decided in the end to make an appearance at the Firestones’ gala event. It
would
be interesting to meet the lady who had painted the scene that now graced the coveted spot above his desk. Would she be the typical uptight young miss who used paint to fuel an overactive imagination? No, maybe a female lumberjack-type who thought nothing of tromping around the forest. Hell, more than likely she was a bona fide bohemian with long flowing robes and the scent of cannabis clinging to her hair. He smiled at the thought.

He dressed in formal attire and arrived an hour after the party had begun. No sense in milling around too long and having people think he actually
wanted
to be there. He talked to a few people he recognized and lingered at the back of the ballroom, watching the hoopla unfold. Turns out he’d made it to the Firestones’ Pacific Heights mansion just in time.

“And now, may we present
The Family
, a painting by Amelia Starling.” Edward and Josephine, Will’s parents, jointly pulled a silk cord and the curtain rose, so to speak, on a huge canvas.

The guests erupted in a collective “Oh!” The painting was incredible, unlike any family portrait Gus had ever seen. Instead of everyone in the picture looking straight ahead, they were in the middle of playing croquet on the front lawn of their estate. Will’s brother, sister, and Will himself were in it, along with his parents, and Gus got the sense from their particular actions that they loved each other but there was tension too. He started to move through the crowd to see it better, but froze at what, or rather who, he saw next.

“And we are happy to introduce the creator of this brilliant work, Miss Amelia Starling.”

The woman who stepped forward, smiling at the crowd, was none other than Ruthie…but not the sweet young girl Gus had met several weeks before. No. This woman was beyond beautiful, her eyes with some kind of color on them that made them seem even larger and more exotic than before, her gorgeous dark hair swept up with some kind of shiny netting woven through it, and glittery diamonds hanging from her delicate ears. And her body. Lord have mercy. Her body was encased in a long, deep-colored dress, a kind of red, he thought, that displayed her breasts and every other curve with elegance and grace. She was magnificent.

Gus was furious.

He strode through the crowd but stopped so that she could see him as she talked to one admirer after another. At one point she saw him and her eyes grew wide. He continued to stare at her and she didn’t look away. The man she was talking to—a geezer with money, no doubt—finally had to touch her arm to get her attention. Good.

He waited, patiently, until the crowed had thinned and the Firestones had announced the buffet was open. Then he made his move.

“I take it this is what you meant by ‘a little of this and a little of that’,” he said.

She smiled awkwardly, looking around the room, probably for someone to come and bail her out.

“No one’s going to rescue you this time…Ruthie.” He stepped closer and noticed she was breathing rapidly; it was doing wonderful things to her cleavage. “Who is Ruthie, by the way? Did you just make her up on the spot?”

“No. It’s my middle name,” she explained in a quiet voice. “Look, Mr. Wolff…”

“Oh, so you know
my
name.”

“I knew who you were the instant I saw you.” Her chin rose. “Your…reputation precedes you.”

“Ah. Well, I’ll tell you what I tell everybody else: don’t believe everything you read.” He cocked his head. “Why did you lie about who you were?”

She shrugged her beautiful shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to hear an honest opinion of my work. You would hardly have been straight with me had you known I painted it.”

Gus leaned in to whisper in her ear. She smelled like lavender. “I assure you, Miss Starling, I would be nothing but straight with you.”

The young woman stepped back and glared at him. “I’m sure you would be, Mr. Wolff, until the next distraction turned your head.” She made a point of looking around the room. “Speaking of which, where is the melodious Miss Lindemann? I don’t see her anywhere.”

This woman was a pip. Gus wanted more of her. He captured her gaze and answered calmly. “Miss Lindemann and I aren’t seeing each other anymore. I haven’t been with a woman since before you and I met.” He mimicked her perusal of the ballroom, even though most of the guests had migrated to the dining area. “Come to think of it, where is your swain—or swains, as the case may be? Let’s see, there’s Charles, from the other night, and then there’s your
live-in
. What’s his name? Sander? My my, how do you keep them all straight?” He smiled wickedly. “Oh dear, there’s that word ‘straight’ again.”

Miss Starling’s delectable face, which had shown wariness before, now exploded into a storm of outrage. Apparently so mad she didn’t care who saw her, she pulled her arm back to slap Gus’s face. He caught her arm easily and wrapped it around his waist. Once again he pulled her close and nuzzled her. “I don’t give a damn who you’re with today, as long as you’re with me tomorrow.”

“That is never going to happen,” she hissed.

“Never say never,” he said, letting his breath caress her ear. He let go of her and stepped back, his voice rising to a normal level and his tone serious and heartfelt. “I am giving it to you straight, Miss Starling. I don’t know a lot about art, but I do know how something makes me feel. Your work is astonishing. You know how to capture the…what shall I call it? The
truth
of a given moment. That is rare and something to be very, very proud of.”

The siren opened her mouth but no words came out. As they stared at each other, Will walked up. “Ah, I see you’ve finally met Lia,” he said. “Isn’t she spectacular?”

Keeping his eyes on her, Gus concurred with a murmured, “Yes indeed. Spectacular.”
That’s not the half of it
careened through his head. He had to have this woman. Had to. He smiled and added, “If you would be a good sport and escort Miss Starling to the dining room, I’m afraid I have to leave. Business, you know.”

Will rolled his eyes. “Come on, Gus. It’s New Year’s. You can take a least
one
day off.”

“No rest for the weary,” Gus said, heading over to the cloakroom. He stopped halfway and turned around. “Miss Starling. Amelia
Ruth
. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I love your work and want to talk to you more about it. I’ll be in touch. You can count on it.” He smiled at the frown he put on her face, turned around again, and left before she threw something at him.

“That is one of the finest men I’ve ever known,” Will commented as he took Lia’s arm on the way to the buffet. “Came from nothing.
Nothing
. Made his money in the Klondike but has multiplied it so many times since then, I can’t tell you. Smart. Savvy. And works harder than a crew of lumberjacks.”

Lia, whose heartbeat had finally returned to normal, quirked her lips. “You sound like an advertisement.”

Will chuckled. “Do I? I don’t mean to. I just have great respect for Gus and frankly, since we’ve gone into partnership, my fortunes have risen to heights I’d never dreamed of either. And I came from something, at least as it relates to money.”

Will offered to fill a plate for her. “Trust me,” he said. “I’ve had this spread many times and I know what’s good.” Lia agreed and followed him while he went down the line. She couldn’t help wanting to know more about the outrageous man who had practically accosted her just minutes before.