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Gabriel for only a few days after all; made love with him only once.
He was a midnight fantasy, nothing more.
She put the coat back into the wardrobe and closed the door.
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5
Three months later . . .
"I don't pretend to comprehend how it has come about," Gabriel said, "but I
appear to have acquired a wife."
"The devil, you say." Caleb crossed the library in a few long, impatient
strides and came to a halt on the other side of the desk. "Is this your idea
of a joke, cousin?"
"I think you know me well enough to realize that I do not make jokes when it
comes to the subject of
my future wife."
Gabriel had been leaning forward, both hands braced on the desktop, to read
the article. He straightened and reversed the newspaper so that Caleb could
see the small notice.
Caleb picked up the paper and read the item aloud.
Photographic Exhibition Held in Nocton Street
On Thursday evening a large crowd filled the new photographic exhibition halls
in Nocton Street. The pictures displayed were widely held by those present to
be among the finest and most striking examples of the photographer's art.
Various traditional categories were represented, including landscape, still
life, architecture and portraiture.
All were works of exceptional beauty and power, fully deserving to be hailed
as High Art. But in
this reviewer's opinion, the pictures that most riveted the eye were the four
photographs listed in
the catalog as being the first in a series titled Dreams.
Although exhibited in the architecture category, the photographs are
remarkable in that they combine portraiture, architecture and a metaphysical
quality that can only be described as dreamlike. One of the pictures took
first prize and deservedly so.
Mrs. Jones, the photographer responsible for the winning picture, was to be
seen in the crowd. She is quite new on the photography scene in London and she
has met with nothing short of great success. Her list of clients already
includes some of the most discerning members of Society.
The elegant widow was dressed in deepest mourning, as is her custom. Her
elegant black gown accentuated her lustrous dark brown hair and amber-colored
eyes. Indeed, it was remarked by several of those present that the
photographer is as dramatic as any of her photographs.
Mrs. Jones's touching devotion to the memory of her late husband, who perished
tragically while
the couple was on their honeymoon in the Wild West, is well known in
photographic circles. The lady has made it clear that, having lost the great
love of her life, shewill never love again. All of her attention,
sensibilities and emotions are now employed in the perfection of her art to
the great benefit of connoisseurs and collectors.
"Damnation." Caleb looked up from the article. His already stern features
hardened further. "Do you really believe that this is the same photographer
that you employed to record the collection at Arcane House?"
Gabriel crossed the library and came to a halt in front of the Palladian
windows. He clasped his hands behind his back and studied the rain-drenched
garden. "It could be a coincidence."
"I know how you feel about coincidence."
"I must be realistic. What are the chances that three months after Miss Milton
was hired to photograph the collection at Arcane House, another lady with the
same color hair and eyes has set herself up in the photography business in
London? I knew Miss Milton was very excited by the size of the fee she
received from the Council. I could see that she had plans for the money, big
plans, although she did not confide in me."
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"You can't be sure it is the same photographer."
Gabriel glanced at the newspaper over his shoulder. "You read those comments.
The critic called her work striking and powerful. He said it had a
metaphysical quality. That describes Miss Milton's pictures quite accurately.
She is a brilliant photographer, Caleb. And then there is the business of the
name."
"If you're right, what would have induced her to change her name to Jones?"
Perhaps she was pregnant with his child, Gabriel thought.
The thought staggered him, triggering a surge of possessiveness and arousing
protective instincts he had not even realized he had until that moment.
On the heels of the possibility came another realisation that made him deeply
uneasy, it Venetia had taken his name to lend respectability to a pregnancy,
she must be terrified.
Me decided not to mention that potential problem to Caleb.
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