Gabriel's Redemption

The attractive, fair-haired man approached, angling to view the illustration.

 

As if in a dream, Julia watched the stranger move. His body almost appeared to float across the floor, his footsteps light and fluid. He appeared tall but was actually an inch or two shorter than Gabriel. Julia perceived that although the man was trim, his elegant black suit hid muscles that rippled beneath the fine material.

 

The Emersons politely retreated, but not before Gabriel locked eyes with the other guest. Wordlessly, Gabriel placed his body between the stranger and Julianne, blocking her from his view.

 

“Good evening.” The stranger addressed them with a British accent, bowing formally.

 

To Gabriel’s trained ear, the accent sounded Oxonian.

 

“Evening,” Gabriel clipped, his palm sliding down Julia’s wrist in order to grasp her hand.

 

The guest’s eyes followed the path of Gabriel’s hand, and he smiled to himself.

 

“A remarkable evening,” he commented, gesturing at the room.

 

“Quite,” said Gabriel, gripping Julia’s hand a little too tightly.

 

She squeezed back, indicating that he should release the pressure a little.

 

“It’s generous of you to share your illustrations.” The guest’s tone was ironic. “How fortunate for you that you acquired them in secret and not on the open market.”

 

The stranger’s eyes traveled from Gabriel’s to Julia’s, pausing briefly. His nostrils flared and then his eyes appeared to soften before he turned to the drawing nearby.

 

“Yes, I count myself lucky. Enjoy your evening.” With a stiff nod, Gabriel moved away, still gripping Julia’s hand.

 

She was puzzled by Gabriel’s behavior but elected not to ask him about it until they reached the opposite end of the gallery.

 

“Who was that?”

 

“I have no idea, but stay away from him.” Gabriel was visibly agitated, and he passed a hand over his mouth.

 

“Why? What’s going on?” Julia stopped, facing him.

 

“I don’t know.” Gabriel’s eyes were sincere. “But there’s something about him. Promise me you’ll stay away.”

 

Julia laughed, the sound echoing across the gallery. “He’s a bit odd, but he seemed nice.”

 

“Pit bulls are nice until you put your hand in their cage. If he moves in your direction, turn around and walk away. Promise me.” Gabriel dropped his voice to a whisper.

 

“Of course. But what’s the matter? Have you met him before?”

 

“I don’t think so, but I’m not sure. I didn’t like how he was looking at you. His eyes could have burned holes in your dress.”

 

“It’s a good thing I have Superman to protect me.” Julia kissed her husband firmly. “I promise to avoid him and all the other handsome men here.”

 

“You think he’s handsome?” Gabriel glared at her.

 

“Handsome the way a work of art is handsome, not the way you are. And if you kiss me now, I’ll forget him entirely.”

 

Gabriel leaned forward and caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers before pressing their lips together.

 

“Thank you.” She chewed at the inside of her mouth. “I’m afraid you embarrassed me in your introduction. I don’t like the attention.”

 

“You’re the true benefactor. I’m merely your escort.”

 

Julia laughed again, but this time the sound barely echoed. The room had filled with other guests, who were waiting a respectful distance away.

 

“You make a charming escort, Professor.”

 

“Thank you.” He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I’m sorry I embarrassed you with my introduction. I was hoping to motivate some of our guests to consider donating to the orphanage.”

 

“Then embarrass me all you like. If one person decides to support the orphanage, this entire exhibit will have been a success. Even if they hate the illustrations.”

 

“How could anyone hate something so exquisite?” Gabriel gestured at the room.

 

Julia couldn’t argue. Several different artists had illustrated Dante’s work over the centuries, but Botticelli had always been her favorite.

 

They continued through the room, pausing in front of each picture. Gabriel noted with satisfaction that the stranger seemed to have disappeared.

 

When they’d reached the one hundredth and final illustration, Julia turned to her husband.

 

“An incredible exhibit. They did a fantastic job.”

 

“It isn’t finished.” Gabriel tried to smother a smile, his sapphire eyes sparkling.

 

“Really?” She looked around, confused.

 

He took her hand in his and led her to the second floor and into the Botticelli room.

 

She stopped short, as she always did, when she passed through the doors. Seeing The Birth of Venus and Primavera in the same room always left her breathless.

 

It was the location of Gabriel’s lecture during their first visit to Florence. He’d spoken of marriage and family then, things that at the time seemed as ethereal as a dream.