A Closed Heart by Oster, Camille (guided reading books TXT) 📗

made for a larger person. It enveloped her completely and she moved to the easel. “You can light the fire if you wish. There is coal in the bucket, I think.”

“You don’t normally?” Was this something she couldn’t afford? If so, he could purchase her a cartful of coal—enough to last her through the year.

“Sometimes,” she said absently as she sat down on her stool. “We can go for a coffee shortly.”

“Alright.”

Julius stayed in bed and drew the blankets up as he watched her paint. He didn’t have a large dressing gown to envelop himself in, so if he got out, he would have to dress. Ideally, he wanted her to come back to bed, but he was content to sit there and watch her. A part of him was wary of disturbing her in case she concluded that having him there was too much of a distraction. The ideal would be her deciding that his presence was beneficial to her.

Honestly, he didn’t know what his intentions were. He’d just needed her and had sought her out. Any kind of thinking beyond that was too difficult to consider right then. For right now, he was simply happy to be there.

As she painted, he stayed quiet, content to just watch her. “I’m in love with you,” he said. The first thing spoken in a long time.

Her head turned and she looked at him. Her gaze was inscrutable. “I know,” she said. “Perhaps it’s time for a coffee. What do you wish to do today?”

“Whatever suits. We could buy some more coal. I have no particular plans. If you need to paint, you should paint.”

Again she looked at him. “Come on, let’s go get a coffee.”

Whipping the blankets back, he was met by the cold, it shocking his body as he quickly pulled on his chilly clothes. Jane did the same. “I might need a few moments,” she said.

“Yes, of course. I’ll wait outside.”

Once outside, he waited in the hallway that serviced the various apartments of the building, and he stepped back as a woman came down the stairs with a small child holding her hand. Absent smiles and greetings passed between them. It felt awkward that there were strangers so close to where he’d slept. He hadn’t been in a communal building since his Oxford days. But this was her life—he had come to her, so it certainly wasn’t his place to complain. What he could have foreseen better was the need for toiletries, as he’d come with very little in terms of luggage. Perhaps he hadn’t really anticipated that he’d be invited to stay. And really, in these small rooms, he would get under her feet quickly, which left the question of what he should do now. That wasn’t so clear. Should he return back to London on the train sometime that day? Yes, probably.

The issue of what to do after he’d found her hadn’t been something he’d considered. All he’d known was that he needed her, like an opium addict reaching for the pipe.

Her door opened and she came out. Her hair was tied back into a braid and she wore the coat he typically saw her in.

How could this be better than what he offered? The question shot through his mind. Yes, her independence and her freedom meant a lot of her, but it wasn’t as if he was an ogre that would forbid her from doing the things she loved. Didn’t he make up for the shortcomings of the situation?

It was an ever-present question that he couldn’t get an answer for.

“Do you need a moment of privacy?” she asked.

“I’m sure we can find a gentleman’s lavatory on the way.” Not facilities he relished, but somehow it felt important to not be a nuisance to her.

Without discussing it further, they walked down the stairs. “Your rooms seem well suited for your purposes.”

“I had to search. There are rooms aplenty, but sufficient windows can be hard to find.”

“It will be cold in winter with all that glass.”

“An occupational circumstance.”

“Perhaps the season to head south to warmer climes.”

Jane chuckled. “That would be nice.”

He could do that for her. If she wanted to spend the winter down near the Mediterranean, he could afford such a journey every year, if she wished. But he didn’t mention it. This felt very tentative—as if she might well drop him off at the train station after a cup of coffee.

Being at the mercy of another person wasn’t something he was used to.

“There’s a very nice establishment along the Promenade, if you would like to go there,” she suggested.

“Alright.”

They walked toward the sea and then along the Promenade. It was a somber day, so the holiday makers were sparse. “Spring can be unpredictable here.”

“I suppose being by the sea, you are at the mercy of the weather more.”

How he wished he knew what she was thinking.

“I think I should also get rooms in one of the hotels here,” he said, “if you would agree to have supper with me tonight. I take it you wish to work today.”

Pausing, she looked at him. It seemed there was something she wished to say, but she held herself back. Julius found he’d held his breath. Why did this have to feel so very fraught? Because he wasn’t ready to leave. He couldn’t go back to the bleakness she’d left behind her, so if he needed to be considerate, then he would be so. His only objective was to stay in her bed again that night—or maybe in the more comfortable one in whatever rooms he would get.

As they walked, he could see the building he would choose to stay at, even as he didn’t know the name of the hotel until they reached it. The Albion. The café Jane had in mind was not far