Chapter 31

Thirty-One

Annoyance was becoming Camilla's constant companion, a direct result of Victor neglecting to remove George from her near vicinity, which meant she'd spent the past hour listening to that irritating man list a variety of preposterous reasons why he was convinced she was still in love with him, and apparently thought she was only denying that love since he'd hurt her tender feminine sensibilities when he'd been forced to marry Eleanor.

"Forgive me, George, because this is going to come across as beyond rude, but would you please stop talking," Camilla finally said, unsurprised when George simply blinked owlishly back at her.

"Do you want me to stop talking because you're finally ready to admit you're absolutely delighted by the fact I've returned at long last to marry you?"

It took a great deal of effort to remain sitting with her hands folded demurely in her lap. "No. I want you to discontinue rambling on and on because I'm precariously close to giving in to the most compelling urge to throttle you, something I doubt you'd enjoy, although I'm sure Victor, who's most likely spying on us through one of those holes in the wall, is being vastly amused by your continued pontifications."

George blinked again before he smiled. "Ah, I believe I'm beginning to understand where your overly fraught emotional state is coming from. You're obviously concerned you'll come across as too eager to reclaim our long-lost love, and thus, lose my respect for you. Since I've never held any respect for the feminine set to begin with, there's no need for you to worry about that."

"I'm going to have to truly beg my father's pardon for ever arguing with him about his honest opinion of you," she muttered, which elicited another blink from George just as the door opened and Bernadette strode in, all but clinging to Victor's arm.

Camilla's sense of annoyance was immediately replaced with temper.

She'd been so certain she'd misjudged Bernadette, but instead, the woman had played her for a fool and was the reason she was now sequestered in Victor Malvado's lair, waiting for him to divest her father of a million-dollar ransom—not that her father couldn't afford it, given he was worth over a hundred million dollars, but still. It was inexcusable to think that a woman she'd employed, and then offered to set up in business, had turned out to be nothing more than an opportunist of the worst sort.

"Miss Pierpont," Bernadette trilled, "I bet you're not happy to see me, given that Victor has evidently apprised you of my role in this, well ... distasteful business."

Camilla lifted her chin and merely stared back at the woman, unwilling to give Bernadette the satisfaction of an answer.

Her temper went from simmering to boiling when Bernadette laughed before she released her hold on Victor's arm and moseyed over to the coffee cart. "I see Victor's chef has provided you with a variety of delicacies. I daresay I'm famished, but..." She refocused her attention on George. "We haven't met. I'm Bernadette, and you are, of course, Lord Shrewsbury. Shall I make you up a plate before I launch into the many, many questions I have about you and Miss Pierpont?"

George waved the offer aside. "I don't make it a habit to converse with aspiring actresses."

"Suit yourself," Bernadette murmured before she took a second to plop some shrimp canapes onto her plate, then turned and settled a smile on Victor.

"I'm pleased to report, Victor, that the manager of the Eastern Theater Company was thrilled to offer me a position. He told me that you personally asked him ever so sweetly to give me a job. I truly must thank you for arranging such a sensational opportunity, as well as thank you because the manager also told me that you told him I possess remarkable acting skills."

"I would have to agree about those skills," Camilla grumbled.

"What's that?" Bernadette asked as she ambled Camilla's way.

"You heard what I said, and yes, your acting skills are quite extraordinary, as you were certainly able to deceive me."

"You have no—" was all Bernadette was able to say before she suddenly stumbled, the contents of her plate landing directly into Camilla's lap. "How clumsy of me," she exclaimed as she began plucking shrimp from Camilla's skirt, bending close to Camilla's ear in the process.

"Get ready," Bernadette whispered as something heavy plopped into Camilla's lap, something that turned out to be her derringer.

As she caught Bernadette's eye, who immediately sent her a wink, Camilla palmed the derringer as Bernadette straightened, set aside her plate of ruined shrimp, then sent a nod Victor's way. "I suppose I should get on my way, given that I know you'll be leaving just as soon as your men return with the ransom."

Victor inclined his head. "I certainly won't be lingering, but ..." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his billfold. "I believe a bonus is in order before you go."

"A bonus?" Bernadette all but tittered.

"Let's say it's for putting your incredibly impressive acting skills to such lucrative use."

As Victor opened his wallet and began pulling out bills, Bernadette glanced over her shoulder, mouthed "Now," and then pulled a pistol from the pocket of her cape and pointed it at Victor, who froze and narrowed his eyes on her.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Obviously putting those acting skills you complimented me on to good use," Bernadette returned. "I'm afraid I'm now going to have to insist you put your hands in the air and stay that way until reinforcements arrive."

"Have you lost your mind?" Victor countered, taking a step toward Bernadette but stopping when she cocked the hammer. "You know you'll never make it out of here alive, not when I have an entire brigade of men guarding me."

"You sent half your brigade out to fetch the ransom money. That left you vulnerable for the imminent attack I helped orchestrate." With that, Bernadette released a whistle Camilla knew Nems had taught her how to do.

A mere heartbeat later, Owen was racing into the room, his Colt Dragoons in hand, looking furious, as well as rather battered, given the two black eyes he was sporting.

Considering the current circumstances, it was an odd state of affairs when the thought flashed to mind that he'd never looked more appealing to her.

As the sound of gunshots rang out from outside the room, Camilla jumped from the chair, gripping her derringer, then found herself at a loss for what to do next when Owen launched himself at Victor.

"Don't just stand there acting like an imbecile," George screamed at her, his voice a few octaves higher than it normally was. "Shoot him, or if you're too squeamish for that, give me the gun and I'll do it."

"I can't shoot at Victor because I might hit Owen," Camilla said right as Victor's men rushed into the room, not because they were coming to Victor's defense, but because they were being pursued by Gideon, Leopold, Charles, and ... Beulah.

A second later, Victor's men were rushing out the back door, Gideon, Leopold, and Charles in hot pursuit.

Beulah, after catching sight of Camilla, stopped in her tracks, her gaze traveling the length of her, and after apparently realizing she was unharmed, she turned her attention to Owen, who'd taken Victor to the ground and had already rendered him unconscious.

"Anyone have anything I can use to tie him up?" Owen asked.

"I've got a garter," Elma said, hobbling into the room, where she promptly propped her rifle against the settee, bent over and fumbled with her skirt, then looked up. "Might be better iffen you used my stockin's."

"Not something I ever thought I'd be speaking with you about, Aunt Elma, but stockings it is," Owen said, which earned him a grin from Elma, who, curiously enough, was wearing spectacles, ones that slid down her nose as she bent over and stripped a stocking from her leg.

As Elma went about the business of securing Victor's wrists, Owen shifted his attention to Camilla.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She smiled. "As Nems and the boys would say, I'm fit as a fiddle."

He returned the smile. "Good."

Beulah released a snort. "That's it? That's all you've got to say to her? Just good?"

"It hardly seems the moment to launch into an in-depth conversation, not when there are probably still more criminals afoot."

"No need for you to go rushin' off to save the day, Owen," Nems said, pushing himself into the room in his wheeled chair, Andy walking behind him, nursing a bleeding lip but smiling all the same. "We done got them no-good 'nappers already nice and tidied up, so iffen you got somethin' to say to our darlin' Camilla, I say git on with it." Nems sent her a wink. "Nice to see ya, Miss Camilla, and know that I jist got the pleasure of meetin' your mama. I done told her that I can see now where'n you get your fine looks from."

"Nems told your mama she was done purtier than that there queenie he saw holdin' court at the West Virginia state fair," Andy added.

Camilla blinked. "What did my mother say to that?"

Andy scratched his chin. "Not much, but I could tell she was real pleased about the compliment cuz she left the room, and me and Nems decided that was cuz she was overcome with ladylike emotions."

"I imagine she was overcome with something," Camilla muttered before she grinned and moved over to Nems, kissed him on the cheek, then did the same to Andy, leaving both men rather red in the face as she turned to Owen.

"I wasn't expecting you to be able to find me, but I'm certainly glad you did," she said.

"I shouldn't have had to come find you because I shouldn't have lost you to begin with."

"That wasn't your fault."

"Of course it was, and it was hardly a hero moment when you got carted away on my watch."

"It was certainly a hero moment because you were outnumbered, and yet you didn't hesitate to try and protect me. And if you must know, it's my fault I got nabbed because I wasn't able to outrun the man who succeeded in catching me."

"A lady should never have to resort to running from danger when there's a man around to protect her."

"Unless that man is, again, outnumbered, but ..." She arched a brow at him. "Do you really want to stand here debating this with me right now?"

He raked a hand through his hair. "Not particularly."

She smiled. "I thought not, so what would you rather do instead?"

His gaze darted to her lips and lingered there until Elma hustled up to join them.

"This is your moment, boy. Time for you to get around to see iffen the two of you are compatible once and for all."

Owen's brow furrowed. "Not to be rude, Aunt Elma, but this is hardly the moment for another interruption."

"And to that I say hogwash. You've already lost this little lady once—not that it was your fault, mind you—but 'afore some other disaster strikes, you gotta get down to some serious business."

"I'm intending to."

Elma sent him a nod. "Well then, git on with it, but that gittin' on with it better not be havin' you doin' any proposin' just yet because you got another matter to attend to before that step."

"I bet that step has something to do with kissing again," Charles said, walking into the room with Luella by his side, Luella nodding even as she grinned.

"I bet you're right, Charles, so..." Luella turned her grin on Owen. "If you want to get on with matters, I think you're going to have to convince Aunt Elma that you adhered to her advice and stole a few kisses from Camilla, and that both of you are in accord that your kissing has made you realize you're incredibly compatible."

Owen narrowed his eyes on his sister. "I thought I told you to stay behind."

Luella batted her lashes at him. "Did you? I must have missed that as everyone got ready for the big rescue attempt, which clearly has been a rousing success. However, returning to the kissing situation, I have it on good authority, or rather, Lottie's authority, that the two of you almost kissed, until Lottie and Edward interrupted you."

"Why would they have gone and done somethin' like that?" Elma demanded.

Luella gave a breezy wave of her hand. "I'm sure it wasn't intentional, Aunt Elma, just as I'm sure Owen and Camilla got back to the whole kissing business at some point since Lottie mentioned it appeared to her as if they both seemed rather keen to kiss each other before they were interrupted." She turned and arched a brow Owen's way. "Am I right?"

"Ah..."

"I'll take that to mean there's been no kissing as of yet," Beulah said, stepping forward and sending a nod Owen's way. "That means you best get on with it now because you know Elma isn't going to let you get on with proposing until she's sure you and Camilla are compatible in the kissing department."

"This is really not how I thought any of this was going to unfold," Owen grumbled.

"It would've been unfoldin' a whole lot differently if you'd done kissed her already," Elma shot back.

Owen rubbed his jaw. "Undoubtedly, but in my defense, I didn't know if Camilla would be receptive to me trying to kiss her again until right before she got abducted."

Camilla frowned. "Why didn't you think I wanted you to kiss me?"

Owen frowned right back at her. "Because after that time I attempted to kiss you and we were interrupted, you gave me no indication you wanted me to try again." He took a step closer to her. "I figured, since you're the expert in matters of romance, that you'd give me some sort of sign that you wouldn't be opposed to some kissing—and with me, of course."

"I arranged for us to be alone together numerous times," she pointed out.

He blinked. "Those times were on purpose?"

"They were, but evidently you didn't realize that."

A hint of a smile curved his lips. "Further proof that I truly don't understand women."

She gave his arm a pat. "You're actually more astute about us than you realize and—"

"While I hate to interrupt this ridiculous conversation, I cannot remain silent another second," George said, striding over to join them from where he'd taken to hiding behind a large chair when gunshots had begun ringing out, proving himself to be, not only a cad, but an outright coward. He scowled at Camilla. "You cannot seriously be considering marrying this fool. Why, he looks like a farmhand, which means he's not good enough to even speak to you, let alone marry you."

Camilla's jaw took to clenching. "Owen's not the fool here, George."

"Surely you're not suggesting I am," George scoffed. "But again, you can't marry him, even if he might have impressed you by using all that brute strength of his to take out Victor. You're much too refined for someone like him, and you know you belong with me. You're simply being ridiculous, a trait of yours I realize I'll need to learn to live with, but..."

Camilla's temper took that moment to reach a boiling point, which resulted in her hand balling into a fist right before she took a step closer to George, drew back her arm, then punched the man directly in the nose.

George staggered back, righted himself, then stared at her with clear disbelief as he fished a handkerchief out of his pocket and began pressing it against a nose that was now bleeding somewhat profusely.

"I believe this is where I take Lord Shrewsbury off to have another little chat with him," Gideon, who'd just walked into the room, said, moving to take George's arm and then promptly pulling him across the room.

As they disappeared through the door, Camilla heard Gideon tell George that Eleanor had been sprung from the asylum and that Mr. Deerhurst was wanting to have a word with his ex-son-in-law, as well, something that was going to revolve around hallucinogenic mushrooms.

"What was all that about?" Camilla asked.

"We'll tell you later," Elma said, nodding to Owen. "For now, I think there's something of greater importance you need to get down to."

"I am not kissing Camilla in a room filled with people," Owen argued.

Beulah sent him a wink. "Then I suggest you and Camilla find yourself a more private spot before Elma decides to turn her rifle on you."

"That would be a memorable way for Owen and Camilla to remember this special day," Luella said cheerfully.

Owen leaned closer to Camilla. "Perhaps we should repair to the hallway to continue our discussion before Aunt Elma really does threaten us with her rifle if I don't get down to, ah, kissing you soon."

A sense of anticipation began thrumming through her. "Perhaps we should at that."

"But don't be doin' no proposin' until you find out about the kissin'," Elma warned, wagging a finger their way as Owen took hold of Camilla's hand and headed for the door, increasing their pace when Elma muttered something about hoping Owen was at least somewhat proficient in the kissing department.

Before Camilla knew it, she was all but barreling down the hall, Owen not stopping until they reached the very end of it. He turned and sent her a bit of a wince.

"I'm really sorry about all this," he began. "My family can be—"

"Adorable," Camilla finished for him.

"That's not the word I was going to use."

"Charming?"

"That's not it either."

She tilted her head. "What about loving?"

"I suppose that suits," Owen admitted with a smile before he blew out a breath. "And now, here we are, alone at last, although I have to admit that I could use some professional suggestions from a successful matchmaker who has probably coached gentlemen through these types of situations because I readily admit I have no idea how to proceed from here."

She smiled. "As a professional matchmaker, I would simply suggest you say whatever is on your mind."

"I know how to kiss."

"Not what I was expecting, but good to know."

He blew out another breath. "I wasn't saying that to, ah, brag, but I've never been pressured to kiss anyone before, and I definitely have never had a crowd of people expecting to learn the results of a kiss."

"What kind of results?" she asked.

"Well, the only one that probably matters is whether or not you enjoy my kisses, but I'm just going to admit that I'm thinking this isn't the most ideal moment to try out kissing in general since it seems like there's a lot of pressure for us to instantly decide if we're compatible in the kissing department or not." He ran his hand through his hair. "I mean, it's not really fair to you, is it? What if you don't like my kiss, but then don't want to hurt my feelings by telling me that, or if you tell everyone waiting for us that you found my kissing less than exhilarating?"

Clearly, it was time for the professional matchmaker to step in since Owen definitely seemed to be getting himself all worked up, and for no good reason, since she found simply being near him exhilarating.

She stepped closer, earning a slight widening of his eyes, his eyes widening even more when she wrapped her arms around his neck. She then pulled his head toward her and smiled. "I'm sure you're a more-than-exceptional kisser."

"Now you're just trying to make me feel better," he said as his gaze settled on her lips.

"I would hope that in a second, perhaps two, we're both going to be feeling something far more than ... better."

Owen's lips began to curve right before he leaned closer, then settled his lips against hers.

Tingles immediately swept over her as he deepened the kiss, not drawing back for a good few moments, although since he immediately drew her against him and kissed her again, it turned into several minutes of being soundly kissed by a man who'd certainly been a bit modest when he claimed he knew how to kiss because ... good heavens.

A sigh escaped her when Owen's lips finally left hers, and she opened her eyes to find him grinning back at her.

"I don't know about you, but I'm of the belief we're more than compatible," he said.

She returned the grin. "Too right we are."

"Perhaps we should triple-check," he suggested before he was cupping the sides of her face with his large hands, and then he was kissing her again, sending additional tingles rushing through her and leaving her feeling rather weak in the knees.

"He shore 'nuff is kissin' her," Camilla heard Nems call out, which had Owen's kiss stopping in a heartbeat as he drew back and caught her eye.

"You sure you're up for living amongst interfering people like Nems, Meemaw, and Aunt Elma?" he asked.

"I wouldn't want to live any other way."

"Could you tell if they was enjoyin' that kissin', Nems?" Elma yelled.

"Shore seemed like it to me, Miss Elma," Nems called back.

Owen turned his attention to where Nems had wheeled his chair into the hallway. "Could you go away?"

"Miss Elma and Miss Beulah done ordered me to come check on matters," Nems returned. "You know they turn terrifyin' if they're thwarted, so I'm stayin' right here until I can tell them the two of you is surely gettin' hitched."

Camilla took hold of Owen's hand. "I think the only way we're going to get through to the whole getting hitched part is if I take over."

"What does taking over mean? That you're going to ask me to marry you because ... I wouldn't feel right about that," Owen said.

"I was only intending to tell Beulah, Elma, and Nems to stop interfering for a moment because I would think you'd want to propose to me without an audience, but..." Her eyes widened. "You were thinking about proposing to me just now, and before getting Elma's approval?"

"I'm a grown man, Camilla. I don't actually need my aunt's approval to ask you to marry me."

"Huh" was all Camilla could think to say to that.

Owen smiled. "Now you're starting to sound like me, but to return to proposing, maybe I should wait until I can do it properly."

"Define properly ."

"I was thinking you might like it if I escorted you through a field of daisies, stopped right in the middle of them, got down on one knee, and asked you to marry me, but only after I told you I love you, of course."

"What in tarnation is keepin' the two of you so long?" Elma bellowed.

Camilla bit back a grin. "Clearly, Elma is getting restless, so I'm thinking your field-of-daisies option is probably not going to happen." She reached up and touched Owen's face. "I can picture that scene perfectly in my mind, though, and it is truly romantic, especially since we're surrounded by daisies, you're down on one knee, but more importantly, you've just told me you love me."

Owen took hold of her hand. "And what is your response to that declaration?"

"I love you as well," she didn't hesitate to say.

"You love me?"

She stood on tiptoe, pressed her lips to his, then smiled. "You, Mr. Owen Chesterfield, are the only man I would have ever abandoned my vow of spinsterhood for because you are my perfect match in every way, and with you, I know I will live that happily-ever-after I've always dreamed of living but never thought I'd experience ... until I met my match in you."