Billionaire Flawed 1(153)
Clayton smiled.
“I am more than sure, MariAnne,” he assured her, adding as he opened his arms to her once again, “Far beyond my wish for a wife, I was really placing an ad for happiness. I want to live on a productive ranch filled with laughter and love, and with lots of good conversation,” he paused here, adding with a slight chuckle, “I also wanted lots of children in the house; perhaps not this soon, but I know full well that God never gives us more than we can bear.”
MariAnne smiled, patting the head of a smirking Ellie as she contemplated the favorite fruit of her own divine ‘labors.’
“Well rest assured that, in the wake of a few days spent with my youngin and me, you’ll likely be begging for the stifling silence that currently consumes your home,” she assured him, adding more seriously, “I also can promise to work your land with the same tenacity and good ol’ work ethic that I do my own. I certainly am not above a good day’s work, providing that I am always treated in a kind and respectful manner.” She paused here, adding with raised eyebrows, “To phrase it another way; providing that you act in every way the opposite of my husband at all times, well then you and I should get along famously.”
Clayton laughed.
“You need never worry about that, Ma’am,” he assured her, adding as he squeezed her fingers between his, “I promise that you will be safe and cared for beneath my roof, at any and all times.” He paused here, adding as he struck a courtly bow deep in his direction, “Consider me at your service, MariAnne.”
Chapter four
For the first night in what seemed an eternity, MariAnne Parkinson slept.
During her many nights spent in the home that had quickly become a prison, MariAnne had spent many restless nights tossing and turning in a cold, hard bed; trying to dodge the grasping hands of her lecherous husband as she struggled to garner the rest that she needed to face the grueling schedule of hard labor that awaited her on the morrow.
And even when she did manage to catch a few random winks of fortifying sleep, her dreams were haunted with horrific images that captured and illustrated the hell of her life.
“Those stories that my ma used to tell me on AllHallows Eve, about headless horsemen and monsters in the bed, had nothing on the nightmares that held me captive, nearly every evening for three years,” she mused. “Perhaps because I knew that the visions I saw in my sleep were cold hard recollections of things that had happened in my recent history; as opposed to darkened flights of fancy that I could dispose of and forget with the coming of the sun. I relived the same nightmare every day, only to see and feel it reflected in my dreams whenever I tried to sleep.”
Now, by contrast, she found her dreams sweetened by the presence of an angel; a beautiful man whose gentle voice and ethereal presence succored her fears and bathed her senses.
Clayton escorted her and Ellie to a corner guest room, a room of pleasant elegance adorned with cafe style floral print curtains, soft shag carpeting, and two single beds covered with lace ruffled floral print quilts that shone in their ebullient handcrafted artistry.
Ellie immediately smiled at the vision of a lovely room that seemed like something out of her favorite dollhouse, the precious toy that—along with the dolly that she had brought with her to the house that night—had supplied the little girl with a hearty dose of comforting fantasy in the face of a troublesome life.
Also seeming to sense the similarity, the beaming little girl twirled in a circle at the center of the room; the visions of its homey splendor seeming to soothe her senses as her mother shared her enthusiasm.
“Methinks we both tend to favor our new room,” she told a smiling Clayton, watching with joyful eyes as her little girl seemed to rediscover the innocence and happiness of a childhood lost.
Her host chuckled.
“Well as you can tell, I did not decorate this particular room—it does not precisely reflect what you would call my personal style,” he admitted, adding with an endearing smile, “My ma actually designed this room. She’s a very special lady who visits my brother and me at least once a week,” he paused here, adding with a shrug, “If you like, perhaps she could come and watch Ellie while you work with me out in the fields—that is, if you indeed would like to lend a helping hand on the ranch, it’s not a requirement.”
MariAnne nodded.
“Well as I’ve told you Clayton, I certainly am not afraid of a good day’s work—as a matter of fact, I enjoy it,” she told him, adding as she graced him with a beneficent smile, “I do, however, appreciate being given a choice in the manner. And I more than appreciate you giving us shelter, at a time when we need it the most.”