The put down hits its mark, and I feel myself blush, as I pull my ratty coat closer and pat at my frizzy hair.
The dark circles and hollow expression I can’t do anything about, but I don’t think that matters when he smirks at my embarrassment and gestures toward the plane.
This is all I have, and now I understand Grammy’s words all those years ago. When she’d said be careful what you wish for, I’d paid her no mind until now when I’d wished for anything to save me.
I’ve gotten a nasty, sharp-tongued Brit for all my praying, and I don’t know if I’ll survive his scorn and come out whole on the other side.
Chapter Four
Shaw
The drive is a short one, and I look up to see something that is, quite frankly, just breathtaking. It’s a castle, one of those places you see in those movies about the English aristocracy, and it is so huge I don’t think you could walk the place in a day.
“Just remember what I told you.”
I nod, because—as per instruction—I’m not assaulting his ears with my drivel and lies, but it’s not easy to remember everything he said and threatened me with if I don’t obey.
First he’d insulted me and pointed me at the back of the plane to a small room and a shower the size of a broom cupboard, and then he’d spent an hour letting me know how he doesn’t believe his paragon of a brother would ever have given little old me a second glance.
Of course, I’d cried at that, being the emotional idiot that I am. And then he’d given me such a dirty look that I’d been forced to look away and hide the hurt that his words had brought.
I’m not a push over; I know how to set a bitch down, but neither have I been one of those people who seek confrontation, and I can’t afford it right now either.
I’m homeless and desperate, so it looks like I’ll be taking his abuse for as long as I need to, no matter how humiliating it is and no matter how hurtful it is.
And then there’s the fact that I feel guilty.
Robert, while still in the doghouse over his abandonment all those months ago, did not deserve every curse I’d hurled his way while searching for him.
Thank God he’s not here to hear the scathing voicemail I’d left him. No, that’s not true. I can’t be glad he’s gone because some part of me had really felt for him and then my child will also never know his father.
All I can say is, thank God Cameron Stone doesn’t know half the things I’d screamed into the phone, or I have no doubt, baby or not, that what he would do to me would not be pleasant.
“Stop woolgathering and come along. Mum is waiting. Remember what I said.”
I nod again and bite my tongue.
“Is it her? Oh Lord above, just look at you darling. Come, come. Let’s get you inside and out of the cold. But look at what you’re wearing! Cameron, how could you not provide a decent coat for Shaw?”
I’m bombarded when an attractive blonde woman bustles out of the house and enfolds me in a tight embrace that goes on just a little too long for comfort.
She pushes me away gently, her hands grasping my shoulders as if she’s afraid I’ll disappear and just looks at me as if she’s never seen a woman before.
“Oh dear, you look positively ghastly! I remember when I was pregnant with Cameron. I was so sick. Have you tried sweet tea and dry toast?”
I can’t answer because she’s already pulling me inside and throwing orders over her shoulder at her son. The fact is, this woman seems so happy to see me and so ready to accept me without so much as a sniff.
It makes me a little sad to feel all this, and I think of my mom at the same time. Gloria Mallory is the exact opposite of this kind, Chanel-scented angel. In fact, it’s a little bemusing to be the recipient of her attention.
“Well. Cameron will take your things upstairs, of course, while you come along and meet my husband Victor. We’re so excited to finally meet you, Shaw. Such a beauty you are.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes because I’d witnessed the look that had passed between mother and son, and I am fully aware that I am very far from what either of them expected.
“Thanks. Um, are you sure it’s okay for me to stay here? I could go to a hotel.”
Please say yes. I’m in need of some alone time and a chance to analyze everything I’m feeling. It’s not easy to go from “Do not misstep or I will make you suffer” to “You are the answer to my prayers and I’m happy to see you.”
“Victor, come and meet Shaw, darling,” she trills, as we walk through a wide door that leads to a lovely sitting room that is decorated in creams and golds.
It’s as I’m trying to avoid the father’s eyes that I finally pay attention to my surroundings, and my jaw literally drops. The place is…magnificent. I’ve seen photos of real palaces, and once my professor had given a slide show of homes that had belonged to the aristocracy, but I can honestly say this place beats them all.
It’s perfect while still being inviting, and if I could, I would spend hours just exploring it all.
“Hello, dear. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
I look back down and meet the same blue eyes that had captivated me in that club all those months ago, and I feel a twinge in my chest at the sight. Rob had been blonde like his mother and blue-eyed like Victor—while Cameron has brown hair, with eyes so dark they almost look black.
“I…it’s nice to meet you, too. You have a lovely home, Mr. Stone.”
“Thank you, Shaw. Please, call me Vic.”
“Er, Vic. Thank you so much for letting me stay here while I get my life sorted out.”
“We’re not ‘letting’ you stay anywhere; you’re here for a reason and don’t you forget it.”
“Cameron Alfred Stone!”
“No. Do not let her fool you, Mum. She refused to get the testing done, and she almost bloody salivated when she saw the house. I don’t trust her and neither should you,” he growls, shooting me a dirty glance before greeting both of his parents and walking away to get himself a drink.
I’m so tired by this time that I almost groan with relief when Vic points me to a chair and helps me into it.
“Shaw dear, would you like some tea and biscuits?”
My stomach growls so loudly I hear it echo through the room, and I blush when they all stop and stare at me, their eyes widening.
“Cameron! Please tell me you fed the girl at some point before or during the flight over here!” Mrs. Stone barks, whipping around to look at her son.
The oaf has the grace to blush before turning to look at me with a stony expression.
“That’s okay. Mrs. Stone. I wasn’t really all that hungry. It would have been wasted on me because I would have just hurled anyway.” I hurry to say, avoiding his eyes and smiling at her.
“Margery, dear. Call me Margery.”
She smiles back and relaxes before serving me a cup of tea and offering me a biscuit.
“Could you tell us how you and Rob met?”
I almost choke on my tea and splutter through a cough when all eyes turn to me curiously.
“Er, well, I was at this club, and he kind of just swept me off my feet.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that her son was a hound dog, trolling for easy sex, and besides, by the end of the night, that had been true. He’d swept me off my feet and wooed my hymen right out of me.