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“Just do it,” he told her.

“Righty-ho, boss,” she confirmed jovially and rang off.

He headed to the dining room and could hear the children’s chatter and Julia’s husky-soft voice floating up the stairs.

Yes, in answer to Samantha’s question, it was the green dress. The green dress Julia wore on Saturday evening was superb. That green dress could even be described as sublime.

It was also the green eyes, the way they looked when Julia laughed with Charlotte or when they flashed at him last night when she was angry.

It was also something else, something surprising.

He’d been partial to acquiring empty-headed women because they were easy to acquire and just as easy to throw away.

There was something different about being with Julia.

Julia Fairfax was anything but empty-headed.

He watched as she chatted away with Charlotte and Oliver at dinner, drawing both of them out skilfully and allowing Charlotte to animate the dinner with her usual flair without competition. Then, as Charlotte introduced her around at the gallery, he noted how Julia listened intently to what people said and the judgmental faces changed as she melted their reserve with her natural charm, charm she was able to command even though she admitted to jetlag.

He found he felt what could only be pride when she returned to his side to smile up in his eyes and cock her ear to hear some banal thing he forced himself to say simply to keep her attention.

She rarely seemed ill at ease with anyone (although often appeared that way around him). She picked up remote friendships, as she apparently had with Mrs. Kilpatrick, and acquaintances, as with Charlotte, as if thousands of miles and months had not divided them.

Last night, however, there was a different Julia. Impassioned and eloquent, he found himself admiring her not only when she calmly read from her lists, smoothly stating her case, but most especially when she lost her temper with him.

“No man has a prayer in the world with Jewel.” Douglas heard Gavin say once, loud enough so Julia could hear him. “She’s bossy, stubborn, too damn fiery and she’s got attitude. She’s more of a headache than she’s worth.”

Gavin may have said those words to tease but the look on his face said he felt they were valuable qualities.

Douglas was beginning to agree with him. He had known many women who attempted to be a challenge in order to make themselves seem more attractive, less easy, more interesting.

He had never met a woman who was an actual challenge.

Thinking of this, Douglas recalled several times in the past when Julia had caught his attention with her passionate nature and natural eloquence.

He remembered once when Julia and Gavin were having a discussion on politics which escalated into an argument. Tamsin had wisely kept neutral and Douglas had just watched as Julia’s magnificent moral fury built up in the face of Gavin’s teasing goading. Remarkably articulate, Julia finished her tirade with a crushing set down that shredded even the mellow Gavin and forced him to accede the point.

The problem with Julia, Douglas thought with satisfaction, had turned vaguely interesting.

Before he arrived at the dining room, Carter stopped him.

“You have a… call, sir,” Carter said and this practiced speech was not lost on Douglas.

Instead of going into the dining room, Douglas went to his study. He should have closed the door but he could see Julia and the children sitting across the hall and they’d not hear him from this far away. He found he had the unusual desire to have their pleasant chatter in the background.

He saw which line was blinking, blew out a sigh and picked up the phone.

Nick was on the other end. Douglas listened and his mouth thinned into an angry line at what he heard.

“I’ll be there by the evening,” Douglas said before he hung up. He quickly rang Samantha and explained the change of plans.

“You know, you’ve got to stop doing this. Those kids –” she started to say, her words and tone highly inappropriate. Douglas might be lenient with Sam but now she was treading on dangerous ground.

He cut her off. “If I wish your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”

“Okay then, I’ll make it so.” Efficiency restored in her tone, she rang off again but this time he could tell she did it with disapproval.

He put Sam out of his mind and walked into the dining room amidst the children’s welcoming voices. Julia looked up and quickly looked away. He could tell she was tired and she looked drawn and, he regarded her closely, a little angry.

He nearly smiled to himself.

She hadn’t wasted any time; there was a sugar bowl, a butter dish and three pots of jam on the table.

“Look, Unka Douglas! Marmalade!” Ruby shouted, apparently in a phase where everything had to be said at the top of her lungs. She was waving a piece of toast so exuberantly that marmalade went flying, landing with a splat on the floor behind her.

“Yes, Ruby,” he said while he sat down, “perhaps you should eat it rather than making the dining room wear it.”

Ruby giggled and Douglas saw Julia’s lips twitch but she wouldn’t allow herself to break out in a full smile.

Douglas spared Lizzie a glance and his amusement faded.

The girl bothered him. She was obviously taking the death of her parents very hard. Julia thought Douglas should take her in hand but he was at a loss of what to do.

He found the girl difficult to be around. She looked almost exactly as her mother did at twelve years old, big, dark blue eyes and a mass of shining brown hair. He was counting on her eventually pulling herself together and in a short time Julia had managed to at least achieve some small success. Lizzie’s hygiene had been slipping and she was losing weight. Now, her hair had some of its lustre back and she sat eating a stack of toast slathered with butter and jam.

In fact, looking around him, he noticed all the children were eating their food with relish. The last months, they had been eating quickly but he saw that they were eating quickly to get it over with. Now they were devouring the food with enjoyment and, although Lizzie wasn’t bright eyed and giggling, she was eating. Both Will and Ruby were acting as if they’d just won the lottery.

“Children, what did we talk about?” Julia prompted.

Julia, he saw, had no food in front of her and was sipping only at a cup of coffee.

“Thank you Unka Douglas!” Ruby shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Thank you for the weekend in London, we had a good time,” Will recited as if he was reading it from a script, the blankness of his tone belied the look on his face which one could only describe as goofy. This effect, Douglas saw, was to draw out Lizzie who didn’t bother to respond to her brother.

“Yeah, thanks,” Lizzie chimed in half-heartedly.

Douglas looked at Julia, her chair was pushed back and she was twisted in it, her back slightly towards him, her legs crossed in front of her. Her bare foot with its pale pink varnished toes bounced casually, or angrily, he couldn’t tell which.

She was cupping her coffee in both hands like it was providing warmth against an arctic freeze and staring into it like it could tell her the meaning of life.

He reached for the coffeepot and poured himself a cup.

“You’re welcome,” he told the children.

“Can we go back? Can we, can we, can we?” Ruby asked.

“Of course, Ruby, when would you like to go?” he inquired, sipping his coffee and feeling the full weight of Julia’s feigned aloofness, just as she intended.

“Tomorrow?” Ruby tried.

He smiled at the child and said in a gentle tone, “No, Ruby, tomorrow would be too much of a good thing. But soon.”

“Promise?” she shouted.

He nodded and Mrs. Kilpatrick walked in, setting his breakfast in front of him and announcing that Carter was ready to take the kids to school.