Chapter 11

Camelia surfaced from the slumber and felt confusion assailing her. At first, she had no idea where she was and what had jolted her from sleep until she heard the doors being pushed open and the sound of voices entering the room.

"My dear, I knocked. I hope I didn't wake you."

Camelia felt the grogginess from sleep fleeing at what she saw. Jumping up, she just managed to haul the covers over her nakedness just as Hillary swept into the room, followed by a maid bearing a tray. "Kindly set it over there, Glenna." She gestured with one hand toward the table in one corner of the room.

"What- Where is Hayes?" Her grip on the sheets tightened as the woman advanced with several newspapers in her hand.

"He had to rush out, a sudden meeting. He told me to make sure you ate and said he didn't want to wake you." She sat on the edge of the bed, green eyes wandering over Camelia's face. "You and my son made the papers."

She spread the magazines over the girl's lap. Dragging her eyes from Hillary's face, she stared at the magazines spread over her lap.

All three of them had glossy photos of them on the dance floor. The pose, the way Hayes was staring down at her, his hands on the small of her back, and the fact that she was gazing up at him and laughing left no doubt as to the intimacy.

The caption varied from: 'High school sweethearts reuniting' to 'Only daughter of disgraced couple looking very chummy with airline giant - Hayes Marsden.'

A quick scan of the article revealed that there were more salacious details of their lives. Pushing the magazines away, she lifted her head to stare at the woman. "Why did you bring me these?"

"For you to see what is being said before you venture out." Hillary folded her hands in front of her. "I know you think I hate you–"

"Don't you?"

"I did not like your mother. She made a play for both my husband and my son and was very loose with her favors., Hillary told her bluntly. "I must admit that I made the mistake of thinking you were the same."

"What changed your mind?" Camelia asked her stiffly. The fact that the woman was right about her mother sent shame spiraling through her body.

"I noticed the way you look at my son. It's obvious you love him very much, and you have been through a lot. I feel sympathy for you. It would not have been easy for you to go through what you did."

"What are you saying?"

"My son loves you," Hillary told her with a sigh. "He doesn't care if you are ever able to bear him a child."

The reminder of that and coming from Hayes' mother sent pain straight to her heart. "I told him it was not a good idea for us–"

"My dear." Leaning forward, Hillary placed a hand over hers. "Hayes is utterly and completely in love with you, and nothing will ever change that. When you left, it almost destroyed him, and I hated you for doing that to him.

That was the reason I wanted him to stay clear of you." She rose. "Eat your breakfast. I think my son said he would pop over to fetch some clothing for you. I am running late for my appointment."

Camelia waited until the doors had closed behind her, before opening the first magazine and started reading. Putting away that one, she started on the second. She was just reaching for the third when he came in.

His eyes went to the magazines spread across her lap before lifting his head to stare at her.

"I saw a copy while I was out –" he stood in the center of the room, not sure if she would welcome his nearness. Holding up the case, he continued. "I picked up some clothing for you. I was not certain what to bring back, and I should have called."

"Your mother brought me breakfast." She nodded to the tray on the table. "Or rather she had a maid bring it in. She showed me the magazines."

His face was pale with strain. "I should have listened to you. They unearthed a hell of a lot of information about you—about us, since last night."

"I suppose there were people there who were willing to share in the spotlight. I saw a number of my parents' acquaintances at the function. A few actresses who were not fans of my mother." Putting away the magazines, she stared at him. "It's fine."

"No." Shaking his head, he moved swiftly toward her. "I was selfish. I wanted things my way and I forced the issue."

"You are forgetting that I was the one who walked over to you and told you that I was through with the secrecy." Holding out a hand, she waited for him to come to her. "The initial shock and dismay have passed, and I am okay now. Or I will be. It no longer bothers me as much."

Lifting their joined hands, he kissed the back of hers, closing his eyes briefly. He had hurried back, expecting to find her gone or upset with him. Now, he could feel the relief coursing through him and relieving the tension that had formed a knot inside his stomach.

"Hungry?"

She nodded. "I think the meal, whatever it is, has gotten cold by now."

"I will ring down for something else," he suggested swiftly.

"I have a better idea." Her smile came swiftly, warming his heart. "A picnic."

His eyebrows shot up. "In case you have not noticed, we are in the dead of fall, and the weather is far from being warm."

"We could go for a drive to the cottage you inherited from your grandmother. I know you still own it."

His eyes flared in memory. He had inherited the place when he was fifteen—a tiny cottage on a large parcel of land that had been there for almost a hundred years. He had taken her there. The first time he got his license, he had taken one of the vehicles home and drove her to the cottage so that they could celebrate.

"I do. I made several attempts to sell it, but something always held me back. I couldn't stand going there after you left."

"What kind of condition is it in?"

"It's in excellent condition because there is a couple who take care of the place." His eyes met hers. "And you are right. We should go there. It will give us some privacy and a chance to be alone together." His glance strayed to the hated magazines. "Try and forget what's in those."

"I don't want to forget, and really, it does not bother me as much as I thought it would." her dazzling smile came, revealing deep dimples. "Let's go pack a basket."

*****

The place was several miles away, but he would not have cared if it was toward the end of the earth. She looked happy and carefree. She had insisted on helping to pack the basket and it was brimming over with food. They had also brought blankets with them because she wanted to eat in front of the fire.

He admired her tremendously. It was no wonder he was head over heels in love with her. Camelia DeWinter defined strength and resilience, and she had courage in spades. Qualities he was praying she was going to pass on to their children.

And he wanted more than one. He had taken to praying for a miracle. He had not ventured into the subject yet.

Now that they were a couple and were out in public, he wanted permanence. The last twelve years had shown him that life had a way of taking a turn, and he could not bear the idea of not being with her.

He intended for them to have a lavish ceremony so that it left no doubt in anyone's mind as to his devotion to her. But he had no idea the appropriate time to broach the subject. He didn't want to spring it on her, not after what had been written in the magazines about her.

They had brought up the hated gossip about her mother and her various affairs. The bastards had spent time itemizing everything that had gone wrong in the couple's marriage and how Camelia had been caught in the backlash.

There were speculations as to why she had turned tail and run, and someone had found out that he had gone chasing after her.

He wanted those terrible memories erased and her story rewritten. She did not deserve all that happened to her, and he wanted to give her another chapter, one with a happier ending. Turning his head, he glanced at her briefly, a smile tugging at his lips.

She was sleeping. Had been sleeping since they started the journey and she looked peaceful. He had kept her up most of the night and this morning.

The heady sensation of being in public with her had fueled his intense desire, not that it took anything much to do so, he thought ruefully. Now they were going to a place that held so many happy memories for them.

And they needed that happiness. After spending a blissful two years together, tragedy had torn them apart, and they had almost lost each other. He was not going to waste a single moment in the past. They had a future together, and for that, he was thankful.

She stirred just as he reached the turn-off.

"Some company you are., " he teased as she stretched languidly. "I was here all by myself, trying not to nod off."

"I must have been extremely tired." She rubbed her eyes. "I wonder whose fault that is."

"Blaming me is not going to work." Stopping the vehicle in front of the cottage, he killed the engine.

"It looks the same," she murmured, staring out the window.

"Aside from doing little repairs here and there, nothing major has been done. The amenities are upgraded. The old range was falling apart, and we threw out the old fridge. Ready?"

She nodded and pulled her jacket around her tighter as he came around and opened the door.

"Let's get you inside; you are shivering."

"The stuff–"

"I will come back and get them." Wrapping the scarf around her neck, he took her hand and started for the front door.

"It's beautiful," she whispered. Tugging at his hand, she forced him to stop. The cottage took up a small area and the rest of the large and winding grounds boasted wild and lush vegetation, including towering trees, waving in the stiff breeze and flowers withstanding the icy weather.

When she started shivering, he pulled her toward the door, pushing it open to the cozy warmth of the tiny living area, where there was a fire blazing in the hearth.

"I called ahead and alerted the caretaker," he told her as he helped her off with her jacket.

"I will go and get the basket and case."

Looking around the small room, she allowed the pleasant memories to come flooding back.

A smile touched her lips as she recalled how excited he had been about getting his license and how much he had teased her about failing her driving tests twice before she aced it. He had taken her for lessons, letting her get behind the wheel and taunting her by saying she drove like an old lady.

"I think the woman in front of us is pushing ninety. Look at her snowy white hair and she is going faster than you are."

"I am just being careful, and I would really appreciate it if you would cease from talking while I am driving. It's distracting," she had told him primly.

"Any minute now, we will be pulled over by the cops."

"Why? I am not speeding."

"You are going way below the speed limit and obstructing traffic."

She had glanced into her rear-view mirror to see if he was telling the truth and realized he was not. Sending him a blazing look, she had told him that if he continued, she would not go behind the wheels with him in the vehicle again. "You are supposed to be helping."

"I am," he had told her with a grin.

The sound of footsteps behind her had the memories dissolving.

"You looked far away," he murmured as he came up behind her. "I was thinking about how awful you were when you were giving me driving lessons." She leaned back against him, loving the feel of his lean, muscular body against hers. It was still difficult to believe that he was here with her.

"I was a jerk," he agreed with a smile.

"A major one."

"But it spurred you into doing better," he reminded her. Turning her to face him, he cupped her face between his palms. "I was thinking to myself that this seems surreal."

"What does?"

"Being here with you."

"I was thinking the same thing."

"I want to make love to you, but first, I am going to feed you."

"Good plan because I am starving," she admitted with a laugh.

They ate sitting by the fire, the blanket spread out beneath them. The chef had provided a veritable feast which included thinly sliced chicken breasts, crispy garlic bread, fresh fruits and vegetables as well as slices of cherry pie, washed down by excellent coffee.

"I am stuffed," she announced several minutes later.

"Want to walk it off? When we were here years ago, you were fascinated by the well."

"Is it still there?"

"The land has been left untouched." Packing away the rest of the meal, he rose lithely and extended a hand to help her to her feet. He wanted to make love to her, but they had the rest of the afternoon and the night for that.

Just being with her, in a place where it was just the two of them, was enough for him, at least for now. Adjusting her scarf around her neck, he buttoned up the jacket before putting on his own.

As soon as they cleared the steps, he took her hand and headed toward the left.

"There was an old barn right next to the clump of trees," she remembered.

"It was derelict and attracted all sorts of wild animals, so we had to get rid of it."

"You told me at one point there were horses."

He nodded as they skirted the beaten path and made their way further into the woods. "My grandmother would spend the summer here, and I would be with her for several weeks. She taught me to ride."

She cast him a glance. "You loved her."

"She loved me." He smiled faintly. "She would tell me stories of her life back in Ireland. She came to the States when she was a teenager. She was daring and laughed a lot. That's what I remember most about her. Her laugh, the joy she found in the simplest things." He drew her to him. "You remind me of her."

Camelia's eyebrows lifted. "Considering that she was no doubt as white as the driven snow and very blonde, I find that hard to believe."

He chucked her under the chin. "I was referring to her heart, as big as yours, and her kindness and unaffected candor. She was always looking out for others." He turned her to face him. "Shall we go back inside? It's starting to get nippy."

She nodded and slid her hand through his arm as they strolled along the path that would take them back to the cottage.

"I brought a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon." He murmured as soon as they were inside the living area.

"Let me go and get it, and we can drink it by the fire."

Taking off her jacket and scarf, she lowered herself onto the blanket and removed her boots, wiggling her toes to work out the kinks.

He came back with the wine and two glasses. Pouring it, he handed her the glass and stretched his legs out. They remained silent for a few minutes, content to stay that way enjoying each other's company. Outside it was cold, the wind picking up and rattling the panes, but inside, the warmth offered a coziness that was somewhat peaceful.

"I asked you to marry me several times." His deep voice jarred her out of the euphoric feeling that had enveloped her and had her staring at him.

"You have."

"I am going to ask you again."

"Hayes–"

"There is nothing in the world that could make me stop loving you." he intercepted swiftly. "I believe I have already proven to you time and again that I am here to stay."

"And I ask you to give me time," she reminded him softly. "I want children, more than that, I want children that we make—that comes from us, and I am not certain that will be possible."

"I already told you that I don't care." Putting aside his glass, he drew her toward him. "I want you, Cammy. And I am not prepared to just be your lover or the man in your life. I want permanency.

The honor of calling you my wife. I want to give you my name and everything else that comes with it. I am not prepared to accept anything less." There was a stubborn tilt to his chin that she recognized very well.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are as intractable as hell?" she grumbled.

A smile touched his sensuous lips, and he felt the spark of hope as he realized she was weakening.

"I believe you have said so once or twice."

"At least let me get tested."

"What will that accomplish?" he asked in exasperation. "I don't care about the results. I want you and I desperately want to be your husband."

"I still want to get tested. I am not asking."

He glared at her for a minute before capitulating. "Okay, fine. I will make some calls."

"Perfect." Putting her wine glass away, she moved closer to him. "I believed you said something about making love?"

"Are you trying to butter me up?"

"Is it working?"

"Absolutely."

*****

William Bledsoe looked up from the documents he was perusing as his daughter swept into the room, a sulky, dissatisfied look on her lovely face and a glass of wine in her hand.

"You are back."

"Jason was a bore." Taking a seat in front of the desk, she stretched her legs out. "I read the articles."

"So, did I. You managed to hold back the information about that woman's pregnancy." Cold blue eyes pinned her. "You failed in your mission to get Marsden to put a ring on your finger." He gestured to the pile of notes on his desk. "Guess what these are?"

"More overdue bills?"

"Precisely." He gave her a scathing glance from beneath bushy brows. "You had one job to do. Get the man to fall under your dubious charms and you couldn't accomplish that. What the hell good are you? And how pray tell are we going to get on now?"

"I tried!" Simone cried, eyes glittering with tears at the unfairness of that statement. "He was on the verge of proposing when that bitch came back to town. And now he is all over her. At least I got him to be interested in the museum."

William barked out a laugh, his face harsh. "That, my dear, is just a drop in the bucket. You were supposed to get him hooked by getting pregnant."

"He was very careful." Her porcelain cheeks were flushed with anger. "He never did it without using protection."

"Now, suppose you tell me how you are going to fix this mess?"

She stared at him in surprise. "It's too late."

"Are they married?"

"No."

"Then it's not too late. Find some way to get him back on your side. Bat those eyes at him, cry, beg, slip something in his drink, and get him to take you back to your place, the place I am paying for. Get him out of his clothes and force the issue." He barked. "Or else, all those beautiful things you so enjoy will be a thing of the past."

"He loves her."

"That might be the case, but it is your duty to try and get around that." He gave her a contemptuous look. "Make me proud for once in your goddamned life and do something to earn your keep. Do it before he decides it is prudent for them to marry quickly. I am counting on you, and I trust you will not want to disappoint me again. Am I right?"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Simone nodded.