“You've just made my day!” I was bored out of my skull here. Despite the vast number of books in the library and my full-time role of looking after Timmy, I needed more to do.
“I’m going to take him for a walk in the garden, but I’ll come by after that.”
She gave him a tender smile. “He is so precious; you must feel blessed.” I saw the affection plain on her face. She cared about Timmy, deeply and genuinely, and it made me like her even more.
“I do,” I confirmed. "I would not exchange him for all the money in the world.” She didn’t even know how true that was.
I finished my glass of orange juice, put Timmy in his quilted pram suit, and laid him on the baby carrier. Then I grabbed my jacket hanging up by the kitchen door and took the staff's exit to the garden.
I shivered as I was met by a frigid gush of wind, a rude reminder that we were still in the heart of winter. The February wind was not something that my thin, overused, secondhand, fleece-lined, fake-leather jacket could really protect me against, but it was all I had. Beggars can't be choosers. That had been my motto for way too long.
Tightening my hold on Timmy, I started down the white gravel path. Timmy really enjoyed the country air.
The gardens were huge and so clinical, it was sad. Except for the perfectly manicured lawns and trees that were now leafless, there was nothing at all - no rose bushes, no flower beds. It resembled more of a golf court than a garden, and that was just a shame in my opinion. This place could be made into a real Eden for the spring and the summer.
Another gush of wind made me gasp.
Sorry, sweet boy, that's going to be enough for one day, I told Timmy before turning around and hurrying back to the house before hypothermia got us.
When I walked in and the delicious heat surrounded me, I shivered. Closing my eyes, I let out a blissful sigh. I could finally feel my face again.
I opened my eyes to meet Dean Beaumont’s cold orbs. He was impeccably dressed in a dark-blue Prince of Wales checkered slim-fit three-piece suit. Did he ever dress down? I would have laughed in amusement if I didn't dislike the man so much.
“Mr. Beaumont,” I greeted as I removed a now dozing Timmy from his baby carrier.
Fresh air was the trick with my sweet boy. It always made him sleepy and I was already looking forward to reading the book I'd picked up last night in the library. While he slept, I’d sit on the rocking chair by the window in his bedroom, which overlooked a small duck pond.
“Ms. Collins,” he replied just as formally.
I’d given up on the idea to even try with this man. He hated me on principle and for unknown sins.
I rested Timmy on the kitchen table to remove his suit before setting him back in the baby carrier.
I shivered again, the cold from our walk still anchored inside me.
“Your test came back negative,” he added.
“Okay.” At least he had the courtesy to give me the results this time, not that I'd ever had any doubt.
“Jeremy Hunt called me back. He will be seeing Timothy on Monday upon his return from New York,” he continued.
That was progress. Timmy had gone from ‘the child’ to Timothy. I looked at Dean. Did he think he was explaining himself though? Who was Jeremy Hunt?
He sighed with annoyance. Lord, what was wrong with this man! I annoyed him just by standing here.
“I told you about the world-renowned pediatric surgeon that would be monitoring Timothy’s treatment.”
I nodded. “Yes, you mentioned him, but never by name.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “I assume you will want to come with us, so you will need to be ready by 7:30 sharp. He is seeing us before his first appointment.”
I would have loved to see him try to stop me. Timmy was my heart, nothing and no one could keep me away from him, including the terrifying Dean Beaumont.
I shivered again, the cold from the frigid wind still deep in my bones despite the warmth of the kitchen. I regretted going out, but maybe a hot shower would help.
I looked up at Dean, who was not really looking at me anymore. Rather, he was detailing my clothes.
“Why are you dressed like that?” he asked, detailing my leggings and thin long-sleeved shirts.
I didn't understand the question. He was probably trying to belittle me as usual, but I'd missed the punchline this time.
He pointed at my clothes and I’ve never felt more out of place than under his critical eyes.
“Whether I like it or not, you’re the mother of the Beaumont’ heir. This -" he pointed at my beaten-up shoes - "will clearly not do. You can’t go around looking like you live in a trailer park.”
“What’s wrong with the trailer park?” There were good, hard-working people in trailer parks. I knew that for a fact.
He rolled his eyes. “And what about this jacket?” He pointed at the rack, his mouth tipped down in disgust. “We’re in February, not June.”
Was he stupid? Did he think I would not have worn a better coat if I had one?
I just looked at him silently. I would not grace his stupid assumption with a comment.
His eyes widened, finally understanding. “I see,” he sighed, straightening his single-breasted suit jacket. “Lets go.”
“Where?” I asked, my eyes narrowing in suspicion
He sighed again as if I was the most insufferable person he’d ever met, and in some ways, I was sure that I was. He was not the type of man to be questioned.
“Shopping,” he replied curtly. “I can’t have you dressed like a hobo or a whore in this house. We’ll go make you...at least, presentable.” He shook his head. “I must stay at the manor for a while instead of going back to Philadelphia, not something I had really planned, and some of my business partners may come here for meetings. I don’t need them questioning your presence after seeing your pauper-like looks.”
“But Timmy is sleeping.”
“Let him sleep, we’re not taking Timothy.”
“He has needs.” I looked down at the sleeping baby wistfully. “I can't leave him alone.”
“He won’t be alone. Well, the nanny won’t be here. She was the best money can buy, but she left yesterday. She said she’ll go to a house actually using her services.”
“I didn’t like her. She was too stern, too clinical. Timmy needs more.”
He shook his head as if I was a stubborn child. “He is not alone; he’ll be here with Mrs. James. She’s more than adequate for this.”
“It’s just-”
He raised his hand to stop me. “Are you going to tell me you took him to work?” He paled, genuine concern on his usual expressionless face. “You didn’t do your thing with him in the room, did you?”
I looked at him with incredulity. Was he serious? Was that really the opinion he had of me?
“No, I didn’t do my thing with him in the room. I have not done my thing for a long, long time - way before Timmy was born. I worked at a cafe, and yes, I left him with a lovely neighbor, but we'd needed food, medication, and a roof over our heads. The needs had outweighed my desire to stay with him.”
“Yes, well, your desire to be presentable should do that as well.” He pressed a button and Mrs. James appeared. I was almost certain she’d heard the whole conversation. “Could you take care of the child for the next few hours? Ms. Collins and I have somewhere we need to be.”