Chapter 11 #2
Logan was so matter-of-fact, so self-possessed, as if his heart was encased in steel. Julia wasn't certain if she was envious or appalled by his coolness. “You said you had a proposition for me?” she asked.
He came to the sofa and sat at the other end. His tone was brisk and businesslike. “During the next few years I'm going to make some changes at the Capital.”
“Oh?”
“I'm going to build the company into the most renowned group of actors in the world. I need you to be part of it.”
“I'm flattered that you think so highly of my work.”
“I never flatter anyone, Julia—certainly not someone I respect. You must understand by now that you're an invaluable asset to the company. I intend for you to be a cornerstone of its success. I'm willing to offer you a share in the Capital's profits to ensure that you'll stay.”
Julia was silent with astonishment. She had never heard of Logan making such an offer to another actor.
“I will do whatever is necessary to protect my investment in you,” he continued, “and to make a difficult choice easier for a friend.”
She tilted her head, considering the words with a perplexed frown. “It sounds as if you're offering a sort of…business partnership?”
“You could describe it as such. But the partnership would involve more than business.”
More than business? Julia stared at him closely.
There was nothing predatory in his expression, nothing that would lend a sexual intent to his words.
What could he possibly mean? Finding it inconceivable that she was having this conversation with Logan, she gave him a questioning look. “Perhaps you should explain.”
Absently Logan tugged at a lock of his ruddy hair. “I've told you before that I don't believe in love. However, I do believe in friendship—the kind that involves respect and honesty. I would never marry for love, but I would choose to marry for practical reasons.”
“Marry?” she repeated with an astonished laugh. “Are you possibly suggesting that you and I…but I could never marry a man I didn't love!”
“Why not?” he asked calmly. “You would have all the benefits of marriage…
protection, companionship, mutual interests…
and none of the liabilities. No false promises, no emotional entanglement, nothing but the security that two friends could offer each other.
Consider it, Julia. Together we could build an acting company like nothing the world has ever seen.
We're more alike than you think, both of us existing on the fringe of a society that looks down their noses at us—and at the same time they need what we have to offer.”
“But is it necessary for us to marry?”
“As my wife, you would accompany me to social events in London, Paris, and Rome. You could devote as much time as you wanted to your acting, choose roles for yourself, develop plays for the theater…I don't know of any woman who has had such influence in this profession.”
“The last thing I expected was to receive another proposal,” Julia said dazedly.
“There's an important difference. Savage wants to marry you in order to keep you all to himself. I'm offering to marry you in order to make us both successful, financially and artistically.”
Agitated, Julia finished her wine and set aside the glass. She stood and wandered around the room, repeatedly smoothing the long sleeves of her green gown. “What about…sleeping together?” she asked without looking at him. “Would that be part of the arrangement?”
“If the idea becomes mutually agreeable, I don't see why not. However, in the meantime we would pursue our separate interests. I don't want to own you, Julia. I want no rights over you—and you would have none over me.”
Gathering her wits, Julia turned and faced Logan squarely.
He lounged on the sofa, looking utterly relaxed, as if he had proposed afternoon tea rather than marriage.
“Why me?” Julia asked bluntly. “There are a score of other women you could marry, including a daughter of some titled family that would welcome a man of your means.”
“I don't want some clinging vine or socialminded miss.
I want someone with whom I share common goals.
As an actress, you have potential beyond any I've ever seen. As a person…I happen to like you. I believe we would get on well together.” His intense blue eyes focused on her pale face.
“Moreover,” he added softly, “it would help you out of your dilemma, wouldn't it? If you became my wife, Savage would never bother you again.”
As she returned his gaze, Julia was suddenly not staring into blue eyes but silver-gray ones. The sound of Damon's voice filled her mind. You are mine…You'll never be free of me, no matter what you do.
This was the only sure way to guarantee that the threat Damon posed to her independence and her acting career would be extinguished.
If she didn't accept Logan's protection, she knew in her very marrow that she wouldn't be able to resist Damon's insistent passion.
She would let herself be seduced, persuaded, convinced…
and face a lifetime of regrets afterward.
She loved Damon, but she couldn't change herself into the kind of woman he wanted.
She was filled with misgivings, but in the mass of contradictions she waded through, there seemed to be no other choice. When she spoke, her voice sounded faint and far away. “I…I'll need to take care of some things first.”
“Of course.” There was a glimmer of satisfaction in Logan's eyes. “When would you like me to arrange the wedding?”
“As soon as possible,” Julia said stiffly. “I would like this to be done right away.”
Logan approached her, his bluntly attractive features softening with concern. “Julia, if you want to change your mind—”
“No,” she interrupted, squaring her shoulders. “This is the right decision.”
“I agree.” He reached out and took hold of her upper arms, squeezing gently. “You'll find I'm a good friend, Julia. I wear well over time.”
She nodded and smiled in spite of the heavy feeling inside, as if a block of granite were lodged in her chest.
The next morning Julia received a note at the Bath Inn from her old friend and teacher Mrs. Florence.
The elderly actress had come to town for reasons of health and social amusement, and was full of praise for Julia's performance in My Lady Deception.
Mrs. Florence extended an invitation to meet in the Pump Room during the fashionable morning hour, and Julia didn't hesitate to comply.
It had been several months since she visited the elderly woman in London, despite the fact that they lived on the same street.
Time had a way of slipping by much too quickly, and Julia felt guilty for not having made a point of going to see her friend.
When she arrived at the Pump Room, Julia was pleased to see that Mrs. Florence appeared as vibrant as ever, her faded red hair arranged in stylish coils on top of her head, her face filled with keen intelligence.
She wore her age gracefully, like a marble statue that had been gently weathered and mellowed by time.
Seated at a small table with a glass of mineral water before her, Mrs. Florence listened to the music provided by a nearby string quartet.
As soon as she saw Julia, her eyes brightened expectantly.
“Mrs. Florence,” Julia exclaimed, sincerely glad to see her.
It was providential that her mentor should have come to Bath at precisely the moment she needed her.
She sat in the chair beside her, and took the elderly woman's soft, finely wrinkled hands in hers.
Mrs. Florence's fingers were adorned with a collection of substantial jewels, and a slim rope of pearls and garnets was wrapped around her wrist. “You look wonderful, as always.”
“It's been a long time since you came to call,” Mrs. Florence said in friendly reproof. “I finally realized I would have to travel to Bath to see you.”
Julia began to sputter with apologies and explanations, and gave her a lame smile. “I've been very busy. You can't imagine—”
“Oh, I believe I can,” Mrs. Florence interrupted dryly. “I'm not so old that I can't remember the demands made on a popular actress.” She regarded Julia fondly. “You may remove your veil, child. I can keep all of the admirers and curiosity-seekers at bay.”
Julia obeyed, lifting the veil from her small hat, aware of the sudden wave of interest that passed through the room and the gazes that fastened on her.
A pair of plump women with excited expressions immediately rose to approach the table.
Expertly Mrs. Florence lifted her cane, which had been hooked around the back of her chair, and raised it as if to poke them away.
“Another time,” she told them firmly. “My young friend and I are having a private conversation.”
Cowed, the women retreated and muttered complaints under their breath, while Julia suppressed an admiring laugh. “You're a tigress, Mrs. Florence.”
The elderly woman waved away the praise.
“I blessed the day when I could finally be rude to people and have them excuse me because of my age.” She returned Julia's smile.
“You're maturing into a splendid actress, Jessica. I was so pleased and proud to see you on stage last night, and to think that I might have had some small part in your success.”
“I owe everything to you, for your advice and guidance, and for the way you encouraged me to join the Capital players.”
“It seems you've achieved everything you dreamed of,” Mrs. Florence remarked with a vaguely quizzical look. “Why is it that you don't look happy, my dear?”