Page 21 of Hayes

Hillary rubbed her palms on the seams of her dress pants as she contemplated what was the appropriate thing to say.

"You might as well speak, Mother," her son said dryly. "It's written all over your face."

"I am looking out for you. And she is thinking about you, which is very good. You are going to need an heir."

"I am the reason she might not be able to have a child," he pointed out.

"You cannot blame yourself. The awful tragedy did that to her, and I am sorry to say this, but it might have been a blessing. I–" her voice trailed off at the furious look on his face.

"I am sorry–"

"Are you?" he asked menacingly. "You went to see her that day, a few days before the funeral. I recalled you saying that you were going over to bring her some flowers and a few kind words.

What did you say to her? And now that I think of it, she was withdrawn; she was different. When I asked her what it was, she made some excuses about having to leave her home. I knew instinctively that it was not that, but I did not want to press. She left right after the funeral without saying a word. What did you say to her Mother?"

"Only the truth." Her eyes were defiant, her shoulders squared. "I advised her to leave and take some time to think things through. I told her that if she loved you like she said she did, she would not want to burden you with her problems. I–" She drew in a breath as he slowly rose. "I am your mother–"

"You said all of that to her?" Hayes was so angry that he had to fight to control his reaction.

"A girl who just lost both parents in a tragedy so profound, it sent her reeling, and on top of that, she was pregnant. Mother, you–" Pushing back from the desk, he strode over to the cabinet and punched the button viciously. Plucking out a bottle of scotch, he poured a liberal amount into the glass.

"You had no right," he said in a low, strained voice. "You almost caused her life with your uncaring attitude." He turned to face her, eyes blazing. "I swear to God, Mother, what I feel now for what you did to her, I am not sure I can forgive you or even look at you."

"I did it for us–"

"You sent her away!" he shouted. "I hated her for leaving and blamed her for years. When it was you." he took a deep breath. "Did you know where she was all along?"

"No, of course not."

"Why should I believe you?" he demanded.

"Because I am telling the truth. You are not a parent–"

"No, you saw to that, didn't you?" he said bitterly.

"You cannot put that on me. Her parents–"

"She was dealing with the scandal." he bit out. "You did not know her, but Camelia DeWinter is the strongest woman I know. Even then, when she was only a teen, she took what happened to her with grace and dignity.

She was going to pick up the pieces of her life and move on with my help. I promised that I would be there for her and you–" Tossing back the drink, he slammed the glass down.

"We couldn't have afforded the scandal," Hillary said defensively.

"It would have passed. We would have gotten through it. You interfered in my damn life and now, she doesn't want anything to do with me. God!" Dragging his fingers through his hair, he pressed the heels of his hands over his eyes. "Please leave. I would like to be alone."

"Hayes–"

"Mother, if you are harboring any notion of us moving past this, I suggest you leave the room right now."

Rising gracefully, she made her way out of the room and closed the door behind her. All along, Hayes thought achingly, all along, Camelia had been the wronged party.

And he had blamed her, hated her for what he thought were her offenses when she had been innocent. His heart twisted inside his chest as he reflected on what she must have gone through.

His mother had made her feel guilty, and she had borne that guilt—which had strengthened her decision to leave him without a word. She wished he had confided in him, said something to him so that he could reassure her that he was with her, no matter what.

He should have noticed the increased sadness on her exquisite face, how distant she had been, and that it was not just the scandal surrounding her parents’ death.

Walking over to the desk, he picked up the phone and made the call.