“Some. I remember her face when I saw her when I burned the car on the town square. She couldn’t get away from me fast enough. The truth is that I’m ashamed of myself because I can’t forgive her.”
Amy looked at Zoë. “Primrose said that there was always true love involved in anything Madame Zoya did. Where was your true love?”
“I’m not sure,” Zoë said. “I know I had a boyfriend of sorts. We’d gone together all during high school, b
ut he turned on me as soon as there was a hint of scandal. I didn’t miss him.”
“I think your true love is that art of yours,” Faith said. “When you thought you’d lose your talent, you were willing to keep the hatred of an entire town and the damage to your body. If that isn’t true love, I don’t know what is.”
“I never thought of that,” Zoë said, “but it makes sense. I think my true love has now expanded to my husband and daughter, but, yes, if I had a true love back then, it was the talent I’d been given. And art led me to the two men in my life.”
“So how much like Russell is the new guy?” Faith asked.
Zoë laughed. “Wait till we get to you. I’m going to ask you nothing but personal questions.”
“Like who’s the better lover of all my three men?” Faith asked.
Zoë laughed.
“What did you answer?” Amy asked Faith.
“I didn’t,” Faith said, and the women laughed together.
“I have a blueberry cobbler,” Amy said. “How about if we have it in the living room?”
“And hear Faith’s story,” Zoë said.
“My thoughts exactly,” Amy said.
Twenty-five
In record time, the three women had cleaned up the dishes, put everything away, and were ensconced in the living room, ready to hear Faith’s story.
“I think that you should guess,” Faith said.
“That’s not fair,” Zoë said. “I’m no good at stories.”
“I like the idea,” Amy said. “Let me see.” She stared hard at Faith. “I’m not sure that what we think happened, did.”
“You didn’t marry Eddie,” Zoë said. “That’s for sure. And I don’t think you were in love with William enough to want to find his descendants, so that means you married Tyler.”
Faith just smiled and looked at them over her wineglass.
“I don’t think so,” Amy said. “I think that your time in Tristan’s world changed you. I think that if you’d gone back in your time before that, you would have married Tyler, but…”
Zoë was looking from one to the other of them, then she got up, went to Jeanne’s cabinet and withdrew drawing supplies. “I’m glad to see that some things haven’t changed. Did I tell you two that some of my drawings have survived from the eighteenth century? They say they were done by a student of Russell Johns.”
“Any of the nudes of him?” Amy asked.
“How did you know about those?” Zoë asked.
“Tristan snooped through Russell’s room.”
“You’re kidding,” Zoë said. “He didn’t have the right to do that.”
“He owned the place and I think he felt that he could do what he wanted to,” Amy said. “So did any of those beefcake nudes survive the ages?”
“Actually, two of them did. Both of them are of Russell, but no one knows who they are. They think they’re of the local blacksmith. No one can believe the artist looked like that.”