Chapter Thirteen
Camilla couldn’t endure the lazy afternoon by herself, and nor could she chance seeing Malcolm so soon. His alluring gaze was too powerful, and lately, she didn’t want to fight it. Never having felt this way with Fredrick, she now wanted to experience the greater joy of being a wife. Being a real wife. Which meant she had to find the courage to tell Malcolm the truth.
She had spent an hour walking through Lady Burwell’s flower gardens, but Camilla needed to return and check on Malcolm. When she stepped across the patio, her attention snapped to Lady Burwell, who sat sipping tea by herself. Camilla wasn’t in the mood to visit her, but she smiled in greeting and approached.
“Good afternoon, Lady Burwell.”
The older woman nodded, placing her teacup on the table in front of her. “How is your husband faring?”
“I believe he is getting stronger by the day. In fact, if the physician will permit, I think Mr. Worthington will be able to travel by tomorrow or the day after.”
“How wonderful.” Lady Burwell motioned to the chair next to her. “Would you like to join me?”
Reluctantly, Camilla sat, but refused the tea Lady Burwell tried to pour her.
“You know, Mrs. Worthington,” Lady Burwell began as she picked up her cup, “I’ll confess my first impressions of you were wrong. You are nothing like I thought.”
Camilla crinkled her brow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, like everyone else, I had heard rumors about you before actually meeting you, so I had formed my own opinion. Now that we have spent time together, I must admit how wrong I was. The gossip circles have judged you unfairly.”
“Thank you.” Camilla paused. “May I inquire to what they are saying?”
A red tint colored the hostess’s face as she lowered her gaze. “Well, I’m certain you have some idea.”
“Does it have to do with my brazen behavior with other men?”
Lady Burwell met Camilla’s stare and widened her eyes. “Yes.”
“Did you hear how incredibly selfish and underhanded I was?”
Lady Burwell nodded.
“And how I treated my husband and stepchildren with disdain?”
“Yes, to all.”
Camilla toyed with the lace cuff of her long sleeve. “I’m happy to say the gossip circles are wrong. I’m not that woman.”
“I know. I have seen firsthand how loving you are toward Mr. Worthington’s children, and especially how attentive you are to your husband.” Lady Burwell chuckled. “In fact, I must say you are a better woman than most of the ladies I’m friends with.”
Camilla smiled. “I thank you for telling me that.”
Lady Burwell reached over and patted Camilla’s hand. “And I think your husband is very fortunate to be married to such a caring woman.”
“I hope he sees me in that same light.”
Lady Burwell laughed. “Oh, I think he does. I have noticed the way he looks at you, and there is a great amount of love in his expression.”
Camilla’s heart quickened. “You believe he truly loves me?”
“Indeed, as I can see your love for him.”
Lowering her gaze to her sleeve again, Camilla confessed, “I have never felt this way toward any man. I feel dizzy around him, yet in his arms, I’m safe and protected.”
“Does he know?”
Camilla lifted her attention to Lady Burwell. “I have never told him.”
“What is stopping you?”
Camilla tried to hide her smile, but her lips stretched of their own accord. Lady Burwell would absolutely die if she knew what stopped her. “I’ll certainly ponder your words.” She stood. “But I must get back to my husband.”
She turned and entered the house. The truth about her identity had to come out. Now.
*
Malcolm sat bythe open window and smiled. Since the patio was underneath the bedroom window, he had heard the conversation between Lady Burwell and his wife.
As he closed the window, his heart beat with unprecedented life, opening a new future for him. A future he couldn’t wait to pursue. Camilla loved him.
Whether or not she admitted her love, he planned on telling her his feelings tonight. He still doubted she was the woman he exchanged marriage vows with, and that thought made him happier than he expected. If the woman wasn’t his wife, that meant she hadn’t been intimate with other men.
Just the thought of making her his wife in the bedroom sent his heart soaring. He wanted to have children with her, to grow old together, and love her for eternity. But… what if he was wrong?
The sudden change of his thoughts wiped away his energetic smile. If, instead, she were really the woman he exchanged vows with, could he still love her?
When Camilla walked into the bedroom and closed the door, he tore his gaze from the curtains and focused on her. Her smile radiated, stirring a heat deep inside him. She was too beautiful to be the woman he married. He prayed he was right about her identity.
“Good afternoon, Malcolm. How do you feel?”
He ran his gaze over her attire, and his heart softened. The daffodil dress made her brown hair stand out. He wanted to stroke the curl by her ear so badly his finger itched. Before he went utterly mad, he needed to bring her closer. “I have never felt better.”
“I suggested to Lady Burwell she have their physician check you over again, because I think you are strong enough to go home.”
“As do I.”
“I know the children miss you, as I’m certain you miss them.”
“What about you? Do you miss the children?”
Her smile widened. “I’m completely lost without them.”
Her words warmed his heart. “Come sit by me.” He motioned to the empty chair next to him. “I would like to have a serious discussion with you.”
She nodded and moved past him, but before she sat, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her beside him. He slipped his arms around her waist and brushed his mouth across her lips. Lifting his head, he gazed into her mesmerizing eyes, now laced with desire.
“Why did you do that?” she asked.
“Because I felt like it. I haven’t seen you since last night, and I have missed you.”
“And I have missed you.”
“Then kiss me and show me.”
Without hesitation, she bent her head and met his waiting lips. He turned her and sat her on his lap while he kissed her passionately. Her fingers delved through his hair, and he loved her gentle strokes.
Grudgingly, he broke the kiss. They needed to talk. Now was the perfect time to express his feelings, and it couldn’t be delayed a moment longer. Keeping her on his lap, he relaxed in the heavily cushioned chair. She looked at him with a smile of satisfaction gracing her lovely mouth.
“I have wanted to do that all morning,” he said.
“Me too.”
“Then why didn’t you come to see me sooner?”
“One of us needs to stay strong, Malcolm.”
“And, as always, it has to be you,” he said.
“If I let you have your way, your leg would never heal.”
“Probably not, but I would be one very happy man.”
She laughed and cuddled closer. Wrapping his other hand around her, he held her in place. He liked this sitting arrangement too much.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asked.
He stared into her hypnotic gaze. “Our future.”
“What about our future?”
“I would like you to share it with me.”
Her smile broadened. “Indeed?”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
“Because I have fallen in love with you,” he confessed.
A gasp escaped her throat, and liquid gathered in her eyes. “Are you certain?”
“Very certain.”
A tear slid down her cheek before she buried her face into his neck. “I have fallen in love with you, as well.” Her voice broke.
He kissed the side of her face. “And is the idea so terrible it brings tears to your eyes?”
She hiccupped a laugh. “I’m just so happy you share the same feelings.”
“How could I not fall in love with you? You are my world now, and you have taken over my heart.”
“Oh, Malcolm… I do love you, but—”
“There are no buts. Not this time.”
He kissed her again, enjoying the way her mouth melded with his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Anxious to finally make her his wife, he moved his hands to the long row of pearl buttons holding her dress together, eager to be rid of the garment, but just as he plucked at a button, someone knocked on the door.
She jumped off him and quickly adjusted her dress. Silently he cursed. He could kill whoever it was that had decided to interrupt their intimate moment.
Camilla hurried to the door and opened it. Colonel Burwell and one of his servants stood on the other side. Grim expressions marred their faces.
“I hope you will forgive our unannounced timing, but I have discovered some vital information and knew I had to share it with you.”
Camilla nodded and motioned for them to enter. She moved behind them as they walked closer to Malcolm.
He met Colonel Burwell’s stare. “What is it you have to tell me?”
The colonel shifted from one foot to the other, his gaze moving around the room too quickly. “The day of your accident, your wife suggested someone had been shooting at you.”
“Indeed, they had,” Malcolm snapped.
“Well, I asked my servants and the other guests, and nobody saw anything out of the ordinary that morning. However, just today, my gardener”—he motioned to the man standing next to him—“found an abandoned rifle in the same area where you fell from your horse.”
Camilla gasped and rushed to Malcolm’s side. He took her shaky hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze, trying to reassure her.
“As I searched the area,” the colonel continued, “I noticed footprints in the dirt. What captured my attention about these markings was that they were not large like a man’s, but smaller, like a young boy’s.” He sighed heavily. “I’m led to believe some lad must have been target shooting and missed.”
Anger throbbed in Malcolm’s head. Target shooting, my eye! Yet what other conclusion could Colonel Burwell come to?
“Is it not a misfortune that the lad left his rifle there? I would think he would take it with him.” Malcolm nodded. “Nonetheless, I appreciate your assistance in this matter. And thank you for letting me know what you have found.”
The colonel smiled, moving his gaze to Malcolm’s injured leg. “I have heard you are doing better.”
“That, I am, sir. In fact, your physician mentioned I may be able to leave tomorrow.”
“That is splendid. I’m happy to know you have recovered quickly. However, know that you may stay as long as you wish in order for your leg to heal.”
“Thank you, Colonel Burwell. Your hospitality has been appreciated, I assure you.”
Camilla remained standing by his side until the colonel and the gardener left and closed the door. He tugged on her arm and brought her back to his lap, where he cuddled her close.
“Oh, Malcolm.” She buried her head in his neck. “I fear for your safety.”
He kissed the side of her face, deeply breathing in her flowery scent. “Why, my love?”
She pulled away and met his stare. “Because you know as well as I that the incident was no accident at all.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“Why would Colonel Burwell think a lad was target shooting? Why would anyone do that so near the fox hunt?”
He cupped her face and smiled. “My dear, you worry overmuch. Please do not fret any longer. With you by my side, nothing will happen.”
“Promise?”
“Your love will be my shield, I assure you.” He ended with a kiss, praying in his heart that within time he would believe his own words.