A Crushed Petal

Cameron struggled through the woods his chest heaving and sweat pouring down his pale face. He felt awful but he had to get home before the two French men caught up with him so he could organise escape for him and Portia. Portia; she stuck in his mind and drove him on, she was relying on him. Relying on him. Frank, Jonnie and Ellis had told him to grow up and take responsibility, this is the most responsibility he had ever had. And although he wasn’t very responsible he always kept his promises. The house loomed ahead of him and Cameron stumbled over the immaculate lawn to the kitchen door. He shoved it open and collapsed on the top step. The house keeper and cook rushed over to him and that was the last thing he remembered before his eyes fluttered closed and darkness descended.

~

Cameron was trapped; he needed to escape. Something bound him and it was hard to move. His hair was damp from sweat and stuck to his pale forehead. Wide dark eyes shot open and Cameron sat up startled. He wasn’t trapped like he had dreamed; the sheets he had been under had twisted and wrapped themselves around him as he had tossed and turned in his bed. Bed? He shouldn’t be in bed. What time was it? Had he rescued Portia? He didn’t remember doing so.

“Sir” exclaimed Thomas his valet from the door. “You’re awake! Three days you have been gripped by that fever we thought you weren’t going to recover.”

“Recover? Me? Of course I would!” Cameron told him trying to laugh, but being reduced to a heaving coughs. If it had been possible Thomas was sure he had seen his master pale further when he had told him how long it had been. It did not matter he had no pressing business. But Cameron did just no one knew it. Except Portia. He felt terrible she must have been sat there in the dark waiting for him to come rescue her and he had let her down. Well he felt well enough now and he would keep his promise just slightly differently.

“Help me get up Thomas,” he ordered his man servant when he realised he was too weak to get up unassisted. “We have things to plan.”

“Plan sir?” Thomas asked confused, but helping his master straight away.

“Yes Thomas, I never break a promise.”

~

Portia lay on her bed and wept bitterly. How could Cameron have let her down like this? He had left her dazzled and hopeful in her sanctuary of the summer house but unlike he had promised he had not returned for her at midnight. Carefully she had packed a bag of her most precious things and some clothes and snuck out to meet him and waited all night till dawn broke and then weeping silently returned to the house. Her step father had been waiting for her much to her surprise. His sneaking valet had seen her attempted escape and informed his master. A giant shouting match had commenced and as always Portia lost. He locked her in her room and she had been left there for days she wasn’t sure how long any more. She cried on and off till she fell into exhausted sleep then cried some more for letting her self be fooled by a lying charmer.

She awoke to more shouting down stairs. She recognised her step father’s voice mostly, but the other voice was harder to hear or identify. He sounded hoarse and almost ill, but very forceful. The voices moved up the stairs towards her room.

“No, no don’t let him take her!” she heard her mother beg her husband. Who were they talking about?

“You can’t stop me!” she heard Cameron's voice. Cameron? Why was he here? Was he going to rescue her after all? The door handle rattled and the door itself shook, but it didn’t open. Portia rushed from the bed to the door.

“Its locked,” she called through it to him.

“I’m coming Portia,” Cameron shouted to her and there was a thump against the door. She stepped away hastily. Was he going to break it down? The door didn’t budge. She heard Cameron yell angrily and the yelp of someone being injured. A key rattled in the lock and then clicked open. The door swung wide and Cameron ran through it pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t come before, I was ill.” He rasped into her hair. That’s when she noticed he was using a stick to support himself and he looked very pale. “Do you have a bag ready still?” he asked before she could speak. She nodded and pointed to a small valise at the end of her bed.

“Is this everything you want?” he asked staring at her seriously. She nodded and he pulled her out the room, a tight grip on her wrist. They ran past her tearful mother and her stepfather sprawled on the floor bleeding from his nose. Neither of them followed even as they jumped into Cameron's awaiting carriage and started off down the driveway.

“Thank you, I had just started to give up.” Portia told him quietly and then burst into tears, leaning against Cameron's chest. He pulled her onto his lap and held her tightly, rocking her slightly.

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry I left you there.” Then he coughed and had to release her cover his mouth and hold on the seat for support. Sat on his lap Portia could feel each cough as if it were her own and smoothed his hair out of his eyes tenderly. He smiled weakly at her, looking deathly white. “Look at us” he whispered “Already like an old married couple and we don’t even know each other still.”

“I don’t care,” Portia declared, “You saved me and I will always love you for that.”

“But I didn’t save you soon enough, like I said I would. I broke my promise.” He looked so sad and weak that Portia felt guilty for privately berating him when he had not turned up when he had said he would.

“Shush, no more about this you did save me still though.” She quieted him and gave him a timid hug. He hugged her back and they fell asleep like this to the steady rhythm of the coach.

~

The coach rattled to halt in a small quiet inn nestled in a sleepy farming village. The sudden stillness, after the jolting uneven country roads, startled Portia awake. She struggled for a moment till her mind cleared and she realised where she was and why she couldn’t move. Cameron, she realised was still sleep and she carefully unwrapped his arms from around her, blushing at the indecency of what they had just done. She had just run away with a man she did not know, planned to marry him and then slept on his lap, in his arms. The coachman coughed politely at the carriage door when he saw her movement. Portia blushed an even brighter crimson and moved from Cameron’s lap to the bench seat opposite him.

“Where are we?” she asked him through the window.

“At the inn my Lord asked me to stop at for the evening my Lady. Will you be getting out?” he opened the door for her and held out his hand to help her down. She hesitated and then turned back to Cameron inquiringly. He hadn’t stirred at all. Stilling, Portia reached out a hand and touched his forehead lightly pushing some stray curls out of his eyes. He was burning up. Portia panicked and cried out,

“Coach man! Coach man! Some help please my husband is ill, please help me get him to a room he’s ill.” She wasn’t sure if Cameron had told others about their impending marriage but she realised that if she going to be allowed to look after him lying about their marital status would be the easiest solution. The coach man gently pulled her aside and called for another man to help him carry the unconscious Lord. Portia followed them anxiously as the inn keeper ushered them up the stairs to his best room and asked for water and a cloth and some broth to be sent up to them. And then she was alone and completely unsure of what to do next.

She stared at an unconscious Cameron and felt the tears well up again. God she was pathetic she thought to herself, she hadn’t cried so much in years. But something about this strange man brought all of her more feminine emotions to the surface and she was suffering from them terribly. She lent over him and felt his forehead again. Burning. She contemplated what she knew about caring for the sick. Slowly and hesitantly she started to undo his coat, followed by his waistcoat, shirt and cravat. She stared at the pale, bare chest she had revealed blushing almost as hot as Cameron’s own fevered face. Touching his bare skin gently at first but getting no negative reaction from him Portia took hold of him by the shoulders trying to pull him up so she could pull the sleeves down his arms and get him free of his clothing. It took a few attempts but eventually she got him up although he flopped forward onto her she struggled a moment under his weight but then as quickly as she possible could pulled the clothing off. Laying him back down much more easily then she had gotten him up Portia covered him over with a layer of blanket and gently wiped the sweat from his pale forehead with a wash clothe. The bowl of broth the inn keeper’s wife brought up to them a short while later sat untouched on the side as Portia fretfully watched over her ill fiancé.

What would happen to her if he died from his illness? Oh how she prayed that he would be alright in the end; so much of her hope rested with him. She sat next to his inert body on the other side of the bed, her legs curled under her as she stroked his hair back from him forehead soothingly. Minutes turned into hours but she refused to leave him and hardly touched the meal brought up to her. A few times she was started out of her thoughts by Cameron’s feverish mutterings. At one point he even talked about her which she was unusually pleased by. One day passed and then two. Portia finally let herself fall asleep, exhausted and pale, curled up against Cameron’s side reassured by his solidness and the feel of his heart beat as she rested her head on his chest.

Cameron stirred slowly, curling his body around the body next to him and cradling her soft dark head under his chin in the crook of his neck. He came round a bit more. Who was next to him he thought. She felt so good in his arms. He gently stroked his mystery ladies hair trying to remember who she was. Portia! It all came flooding back to him then. He smiled. He was engaged and in bed with a beautiful woman who was all his. He kissed her forehead softly. She had looked after him until he was better; at least that’s what he assumed she had been doing before she had fallen asleep by him. Portia stirred sleepily in his arms. She blinked up at him looking adorable and sleepy.

“Cameron?” he kissed her nose in response. Her eyes blinked open properly, wide and blue.
“Cameron!” she flung herself on top of him hugging him tightly and placing a fierce kiss on his mouth. She pulled away after a moment and stared at him, the shock of what she had just done evident on her face. But Cameron just gave her a cheeky half smile and pulled her close again and kissed her possessively. Portia froze but then surrendered herself to him twining her hands into the soft curls of his hair.