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Authors: Ruthe Ogilvie

All That Glitters

BOOK: All That Glitters
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ALL
THAT
Glitters

THE SECOND NOVEL OF
THE STUART TRILOGY

 

By
Ruthe Ogilvie

 

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© Copyright 2012 Ruthe Ogilvie.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

 

ISBN: 978-1-4669-1118-5 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4669-1116-1 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4669-1117-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012900779

Trafford rev. 06/08/2012

www.trafford.com

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER I
 

CHAPTER II
 

CHAPTER III
 

CHAPTER IV
 

CHAPTER V
 

CHAPTER VI
 

CHAPTER VII
 

CHAPTER VIII
 

CHAPTER IX
 

CHAPTER X
 

CHAPTER XI
 

CHAPTER XII
 

CHAPTER XIII
 

CHAPTER XIV
 

CHAPTER XV
 

CHAPTER XVI
 

CHAPTER XVII
 

CHAPTER XVIII
 

CHAPTER XIX
 

CHAPTER XX
 

CHAPTER XXI
 

CHAPTER XXII
 

CHAPTER XXIII
 

CHAPTER XXIV
 

CHAPTER XXV
 

CHAPTER XXVI
 

CHAPTER XXVII
 

CHAPTER XXVIII
 

CHAPTER XXIX
 

CHAPTER XXX
 

CHAPTER XXXI
 

CHAPTER XXXII
 

CHAPTER XXXIII
 

CHAPTER XXXIV
 

CHAPTER XXXV
 

CHAPTER XXXVI
 

CHAPTER XXXVII
 

CHAPTER XXXVIII
 

CHAPTER XXXIX
 

CHAPTER XL
 

CHAPTER XLI
 

CHAPTER XLII
 

 

 

 

The Stuart Trilogy is dedicated to a chosen few; those whose inspiration, dedication, and talent combined to encourage the finished works to flow forth from my pen or keyboard. To my husband, Frank (Bud) Ogilvie, who continually supported me through the long, arduous process; to my twin sister, Rubye Macdonald, the encourager who urged me to start writing in the beginning; to Kevin Thompson, whose business acumen and friendship guided me through publisher duress; to Linda Cruz, sounding board and organizer extraordinaire; and to Doug Warner, friend, computer expert and fixer of the word processing messes that I too often created (although I always blamed the computer).

CHAPTER I
 

The sounds of gaiety at Hildy’s and Jay Stuart’s twenty-first wedding anniversary party were interrupted abruptly, as their daughter, Cameron, suddenly appeared through the French doors. The resemblance to her mother was so striking that they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter.

She paused for a moment and posed. Then, with the same dramatic flourish she always used for the opening scenes of the many musicals she had appeared in, she made her entrance. Cammie, as she had been called from childhood, had a great sense of the drama, and sometimes it seemed that with her the curtain was always up. Her reddish blond hair, inherited partly from her mother, and partly from Jay, moved slightly in the gentle breeze, as she approached her parents, arms outstretched. Her pretty face beamed with pleasure. “Hi, guys!” she greeted them.

“Cammie!” Hildy exclaimed. “You made it!” She kissed her daughter, as Jay embraced them both.

“Hi, honey! When did your plane get in?” Jay asked her.

“About forty-five minutes ago!” Cammie looked around at the festivities. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world!”

Hildy looked puzzled. “How did you manage to get away?”

Cammie chuckled. “Easy! I just asked my understudy to fill in. She was delighted!”

Zack rushed over and enveloped her in a big bear hug. “How’s my girl? And how’s Paris? Is it still there?”

“Uncle Zack!” she cried, returning his embrace. “When did you get here?”

“I flew in yesterday with Jenny and Peter. They’re over there—” he pointed—“and very anxious to see you!”

Jenny and Peter, who had been talking with Roger, saw her coming.

“My goodness, look at you!” Jenny held her at arm’s length. “Aren’t you quite the lady!”

“Cammie,” Peter said, “I want to talk to you later about starring in a new musical I’m going to film.”

Cammie nodded. She had hoped to get a chance for a serious talk with her parents, but was relieved that she could wait a little longer before telling them her news. She dreaded the reaction that she was afraid it might provoke, but she knew she couldn’t put it off forever.

After the friendly greetings, she made her way over to one of the chaise lounges by the ocean. Her face looked more troubled than any twenty-year-old face should look, and she began to wonder if the decision she had made was a mistake.

She sat there watching the crests of the waves glint like gold in the bright sunlight before kissing the giant, jagged rocks that bordered the shoreline. The spray from the waves emitted a prism of rainbow colors, and for one brief moment it seemed that everything was in its right place, just as the colors of the rainbow were lined up in perfect order.

Nevertheless, her cornflower blue eyes filled with tears at the thought of leaving her friends and family, and her beloved home in Scarsdale, New York, to take up permanent residence in France. She thought back to the events that had led her to consider such a move, and she could come up with only three words that had swayed her—namely, Count Francois Dubonnet. What a storybook name! she mused. And how dashing he was with his dark hair, soft bedroom eyes, and ruggedly handsome face. Her heart pounded madly every time she thought of him. So why am I filled with such doubt?

She stared off into space and smiled, as she envisioned his tall, slim figure, and the captivating smile he had sent her way when he had caught her eye across the room at the casino in Monaco. I almost didn’t go that night, she mused, and if it hadn’t been for Jess, I wouldn’t have.

When Jessica Goodwin, her school chum who was visiting her in Paris, had said she would “absolutely die if she didn’t see the inside of the gambling halls,” Cammie had agreed to go. Even though she was tired from all the extra matinees she had been performing, and had hoped to sneak in some rest on her night off, she hadn’t wanted to disappoint her friend. She and Jess, as she called her, had first met when they attended the same private school just outside of Paris, and she hated to deny Jess what she so obviously had her heart set on.

So they had chartered a plane to Nice, adjacent to Monte Carlo, and had flown there immediately following her matinee performance that afternoon.

Cammie hadn’t been able to hide from Jess how taken she was with Francois. Jess, a happy-go-lucky, pert brunette, contrary to her appearance, was quite savvy for her years. “I feel guilty about having dragged you here,” Jess told her. “I think you should watch your step with that one,” she said, referring to Francois.

Cammie tried to reassure her. “Jess, what is it about Francois that makes you so suspicious?”

“I can’t shake the feeling that he’s after something.”

Cammie was stunned. “What could he possibly be after?”

Jess shrugged. “Maybe the huge trust you’ll inherit when you’re twenty-five. Or maybe he likes being seen with a celebrity. Or maybe it’s because you come from a titled family.”

Cammie laughed. “Jess, he has his own title, remember?”

Jess gave her a long look. “Does he?”

Cammie was incredulous. “Why do you doubt that?”

“Cammie, lots of men go around claiming titles they don’t have. And even those who have them are often broke,” Jess warned. “Check it out. I don’t like the vibes I’m getting. I can’t explain it. It’s just a gut feeling.” She shrugged. “I may be one hundred percent wrong, but I’m your friend, and I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t tell you. I’m just trying to shield you from the disappointment if you were to find out too late that I was right.”

Cammie hadn’t listened. The fact that Francois turned out to be a real Count, and was extremely wealthy, had, in her mind, discounted Jess’ doubts, and here she was one month later back home, trying to get up the nerve to tell her folks that she was planning to marry him.

But something else bothered her. Francois had demanded that she give up her brilliant career.

“You’ll be very busy performing your duties as the Countess,” he had told her.

I’ve worked so hard to get where I am, she thought. How can I explain this to Mom and Dad? she wondered with dismay. And how is Peter going to take this? He has musicals lined up that he wants me to be in. I feel awful letting them all down. She felt as though she were committing a crime, yet wasn’t it up to her what she did with her life?

Until now it hadn’t occurred to her to challenge Francois’ wishes. She realized she’d be mixing with European royalty, and they might feel that being on the stage was a little beneath the dignity of a Countess. She felt this was a bit snobbish, but figured this was the way they did things in Europe. Besides, at this point she was so infatuated with him, so impressed by his title, that she refused to give up her storybook fantasy, and was willing to accept him under almost any conditions.

She sat there for close to an hour, trying to plan the best way to break the news to her parents, and to Peter. The others were too busy having a good time to take much notice of her, and she was glad for this. She needed time to herself.

But now the guests were leaving, and she went over to say her goodbyes.

 

CHAPTER II
 

As soon as the guests were gone—except for Zack, Jenny, Peter, and her parents, who were staying the night at Roger’s home—Hildy approached Cammie.

“What’s the matter, dear?”

Cammie looked at her mother, and heaved a big sigh. No use trying to hide anything from her. She can always tell when something’s bothering me. I can’t put this off any longer. She tried to be calm as she spoke to her mother, but her voice quivered slightly. “Let’s go inside,” she suggested. “I need to talk to you. Besides, it’s getting chilly out here.” She shivered, but it wasn’t from the chill. The moment they were inside, Cammie surprised herself by bursting into tears. The stress of the last few weeks had finally caught up with her, and she could no longer cope with it by herself.

Hildy was all sympathy. “Honey, what is it?”

Cammie tried to hold back the tears, but once the first sob escaped from her lips, she couldn’t stop.

Hildy put an arm around her, and led her upstairs to the guest room that she and Jay were using. She sat her down on the bed and cradled Cammie in her arms, the way she used to when Cammie was a little girl. “Just cry it out, honey,” Hildy told her. “Take your time.” She looked up as Jay entered the room, and she motioned to him to join them.

He sat down in the easy chair beside the bed and waited patiently for Cammie’s sobs to subside. “It can’t be that bad, honey,” he said, gently. “Maybe you’ll feel better if you tell us what this is all about.”

Cammie wiped her eyes with the handkerchief he gave her. They’re so great, she thought. How am I going to break this news without upsetting them?

She took a deep breath and plunged in. “Dad—Mom—I don’t quite know how to tell you this, so I’d better just lay it out for you.” She looked at them, her eyes swollen and red from crying. “What I have to tell you is so wonderful,” she sobbed. “I just hope you’ll be as happy as I am.”

BOOK: All That Glitters
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