Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by L.J. Smith, as portrayed in the TV series created by Kevin Williamson and Julie Plec. The plot is based on the novel The Cardoss Luck (1974) by Janet Louise Roberts. All rights to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

FORTUNE FAVORS THE BRAVE

~ VIII ~

"Mr. Flowers!" Elena suddenly exclaimed.

"Excuse me?" Damon said, dumbfounded. She was currently cradled in his arms and he was enjoying the taste of her skin. What on earth would make her think of the elderly gardener at a time like this?

"We were talking in the garden a while back. He was telling me about your family. We were interrupted and I never thought of asking him any more questions, since you were so reluctant to divulge your plan," she gave him an admonishing look. "But he was around when Dante and Giuseppe were born, and he probably saw them grow up. He might know if Davide ever adopted Giuseppe."

"Does this mean you are abandoning your plan of seducing Stefan?" Damon quirked an eyebrow.

"I was not planning…" Elena began, then sighed. "Yes, I will stay away from Stefan from now on."

"Good," he smiled and kissed her lips.

He had been with many women in his time, but never had the inclination to cuddle. But with Elena… the rest of the world fell away and he could not think of a better way to spend his time than holding her in his arms.

"Will you stay away from Katherine?"

"Elena…"

"Tell me you will send her away," Elena insisted.

"I cannot. If she leaves, so will Stefan. We need to settle this once and for all."

"Then let me make one thing perfectly clear," Elena said, coldness creeping into her voice. "As long as that woman is here, I will not be sharing your bed."

"A little late for that, is it not?" he said playfully, skimming his fingertips along her curves.

Elena slapped his hand away and threw the covers off her body, getting out of bed. "Good day, Mr. Salvatore," she said, dignified, and left his room for her own. Unfortunately, she was wearing nothing but her shawl when she did so, making her exit less decorous.

Damon chuckled softly. She would not last a day.

She did. Elena could be cold and unresponsive when she wished, if her will was strong enough. And she had meant every word she said.

She went into town to visit the sick and the elderly with David, and she decided to call on Mr. Flowers.

While Mrs. Flowers was busy treating David to freshly baked goods in the kitchen, Elena had the opportunity to speak with Mr. Flowers alone. They sat down on an old stone bench in the Flowers' garden – as well kept a garden as her own now was – and admired the blossoming roses.

"Mr. Flowers…" Elena began pensively.

"Yes, dear?" The old man had become like family to her over these weeks. He was almost always in the Salvatore garden, checking on its progress.

"You said once… that Giuseppe Salvatore did not resemble his parents. Do you know if he was in fact not their son?"

"Have you come to this conclusion yourself?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I have."

"Then what do you need?"

"Confirmation."

"Yes. Mr. Salvatore was not home when Mrs. Salvatore became with child."

"Did Davide Salvatore adopt Giuseppe?"

"Impossible. Mr. Salvatore was a man of great pride. Even though he forgave his wife and cared for her child, he would not let his name be carried on by anyone but his blood relative."

"But Giuseppe and Stefan both go by the name of Salvatore," Elena objected, puzzled.

"It does not make it legal. Mr. Salvatore would not have left his estate to Giuseppe."

"Then how come Giuseppe inherited the Salvatore fortune?"

"It is very odd, indeed. But the will was declared authentic by a city lawyer."

"A city lawyer? Not by someone in the town? What was his name?"

"Oh, I cannot remember such details. Do forgive an old man, dear."

"Of course," she squeezed his hand warmly.

"Miss Elena, Miss Elena!" David came running towards them.

"What is it, my darling?"

"Mrs. Flowers said we could bring some of her cookies home with us – for Uncle Damon."

"Oh, that is very nice of her," Elena smiled. "Say 'thank you'."

"Ok," he beamed and ran back inside the cottage.

"I'm afraid I must return," Elena said and rose from the bench. "We are preparing for a party, as you know. Will you and Mrs. Flowers be joining us?"

"Oh, no, dear, we are much too old for that. But I wish you have a nice time."

"Thank you, Mr. Flowers. I hope so too," Elena smiled back at him.

Elena and David were just leaving when the gate jammed and they struggled to open it.

"Oh, that old wooden gate," Mrs. Flowers sighed, "it always locks."

"Lockwood!" Mr. Flowers exclaimed, as if he had just had an epiphany.

"Excuse me?" Elena looked back at him, puzzled.

"Lockwood. That was the name of that city lawyer who declared Mr. Salvatore's will valid."

Elena felt a knot forming in her stomach. She managed a 'thank you' before she and David set off for the mansion.

"Miss Elena? Are you not well?" David asked, concerned, as he saw how pale she had gotten.

"I am quite all right," Elena said reassuringly. "Just a little tired."

"Ok," David said, not fully convinced but too well-mannered to argue.

"Go on, my darling," Elena said as they dismounted the carriage. "I will be along in a moment."

David hesitated at first, but did as told.

Elena paused before entering the house. Her head was spinning. Why did a Lockwood handle Davide Salvatore's will? Did Damon know this? Did Stefan? Mason Lockwood was a lawyer, like his father before him.

Her head still laden with thoughts, Elena made her way inside. She was just about to ring for some tea when Madeleine announced she had a visitor in the sitting room.

"A visitor?" Elena frowned, walking over to the sitting room to see who it was.

She froze in the doorway. When Mason Lockwood's emerald eyes met hers, her whole world dissipated into darkness and she fainted.

"Elena! Elena! You – fetch the smelling salt!"

"No…" Elena moaned. She could hear a man speaking – albeit in dull tones, and she was awake. She did not wish to draw attention to herself. She slowly opened her eyes – why was it so bright? – and a face without proper features came into view.

"Are you all right?" the voice asked. It was so loud, so close…

"I…"

"I shall have the servants ring for a doctor," the voice said and the figure started to distance itself from her.

No, she did not wish to see a doctor. She did not feel unwell, merely a little… confused.

"No," she said, surprised at how weak her voice sounded.

"Elena…"

"Mason?" she blinked as his features came into focus.

"Yes. You fainted."

"Did I?" she said, still dazed as she began to sit up. She was not on the floor, but on the couch. How did she get here?

"You gave me quite a fright, Elena," Mason said smoothly. "I am not accustomed to beautiful women fainting in my presence. Your husband, on the other hand, has been known to have that effect," he joked.

"Why have you returned, Mason?" Elena asked, smoothing out her skirt and folding her hands in her lap.

"My apologies, I did not realize I was not wanted here," he said politely, clearly offended by her words – which, in retrospect, had indeed come out a bit harsh.

"Forgive me, Mason," she said quickly. "I am not myself. It is nice to see you again. But I am surprised you have returned so quickly from what appeared to be a serious matter."

"It was false alarm, I am happy to say. The crisis has been averted."

Yes, it must come as a relief that he had not fathered an illegitimate child, Elena thought grimly. Of course, he was not aware she was privy to his secret.

"How fortuitous," Elena said politely.

"I hear your plans for the party are coming along nicely," he said, making conversation.

"They are, thank you."

"And how have your guests been treating you?" he asked carefully.

"Should you not ask how I have been treating my guests?" Elena smiled.

"I am more concerned for your well-being, Elena," he said softly.

"There is really no cause for concern on my account," she said and rose from the couch, avoiding his gaze.

"So I take it Damon has finally come to his senses and realized what is right in front of him?" he asked, walking up to her where she stood by the window.

In the garden outside, Damon and Katherine were walking arm in arm.

"Oh… I see he is still quite the fool."

Elena spun around to avoid the sight of her husband with Katherine, but instead found herself looking into deep green eyes. He was much too close.

"Mason, please," Elena said, attempting to move past him.

"Leave him, Elena," he said abruptly.

Elena blinked. "What?"

"You are a spectacular woman. You were meant to shine, not be kept in darkness. He does not cherish you as you deserve to be cherished. Look at him," he gestured outside where Katherine was laughing at something Damon had said, "What kind of man parades his mistress in front of his wife?"

"As opposed to keeping her behind closed doors?" Elena said, anger brewing inside of her.

"I'm sorry?"

"You do not seem to take offense with the idea that Damon keeps a mistress – but with the fact that he is open about it."

"That is not what I meant. Forgive me if I have offended you."

"You have not offended me, Mason. I am simply stating the facts."

"So you are not cross with me?"

"You are my husband's friend," Elena shrugged.

"I am your friend, too…"

"How long have you known Damon, exactly?" Elena asked, determined to make sense of the Lockwood/Salvatore connection.

"Oh, not long. We served in the war together, which seems like a lifetime ago, so that is why he refers to me as an old friend."

"Did you know Stefan before you met Damon?"

"I did. We practically grew up together. Giuseppe and my father were good friends."

"Does Damon know your history?"

"No. As you may have noticed, he and Stefan do not get along. Stefan was very gracious when he learned I had become good friends with Damon – he insisted we do not make our long standing friendship known."

"Did that not strike you as odd?"

"Perhaps," Mason shrugged, "but…"

"Mason! You have returned!" a voice boomed from the doorway.

"Damon. Yes, I have."

"And you asked to see my wife before you sought me out," Damon joked, but his voice was laced with jealousy. "You wound me, old friend."

"You were otherwise occupied," Mason said smoothly. "Where is Katherine, by the way?" he said innocuously.

Congeniality washed away from Damon's face and anger replaced its vacated spot.

"I do not appreciate your tone, Mason," he said and took a menacing step closer.

Elena hurriedly positioned herself between the two men, placing a palm on Damon's chest. "My love," she said sweetly, "Mason has had a long journey and I am sure he is weary. Will you let me have the servants direct him to his room while I speak with you in private?"

Damon's blue gaze was fixed on Mason while she spoke, but when Elena placed a hand on his cheek, he focused on her and nodded.

Content, Elena rang for Madeleine and instructed the girl.

When Mason left and Elena closed the door to the sitting room, she braced herself for the onslaught of anger Damon was surely harboring.

"I'm sorry," he said, surprising her.

"Excuse me?"

"I behaved badly. I lost my temper."

"Damon. I found something out."

"What?"

"I spoke with Mr. Flowers. He confirmed Davide was away around the time Alessandra became with child. He did not think Giuseppe would have been adopted, or that Davide would leave him anything in his will. But the will was authenticated by a city lawyer… by the name of Lockwood…"

"Lockwood?"

"And there is more. Mason just told me that his father and Giuseppe were close friends."

"He never told me that…" Damon shook his head in disbelief. Then fury returned to him. "Is that why he came back? To help Stefan keep the truth from me?"

"No…" Elena shook her head, her gaze dropping to the floor. "At least I do not think so…"

"Then why?" Damon spat out. Then he saw her downcast eyes and walked up to her, cupping her chin and lifting her gaze. "Why did he come back?" he said softly, pleadingly.

"For me," Elena got out and pulled free, turning away. "He wants me to leave you."

"To ensure I will have no choice but to sell the estate to Stefan?" Damon asked, secretly hoping that was the only reason.

"I do not know what he wants. He did not state it in so many words…"

"He wants you for himself," Damon sighed.

"It does not matter what he wants, Damon," Elena said, turning around to look her husband in the eye. "I am yours."

"For a limited time only," he said coldly, turning away.

"Is that what you want?"

"It is what we agreed," Damon shrugged.

"And you mean nothing has changed between us?"

Damon shrugged. If she could be cold, so could he.

"So what you said meant nothing?" she exclaimed, hurt and anger evident in her voice. "You had your way with me and how I am garbage? A discarded mistress? I cannot believe I fell for your lies!" she spat out, moving to storm out of the room.

Before she could pull the door open, though, his palm hit the wood, effectively trapping her between him and the door.

"Damn it, Elena," he growled. "Why must we always fight?"

"Because you are a stubborn, arrogant, controlling…" he cut her off with a searing kiss that made her knees weak.

"Pot calling the kettle black, wouldn't you say?" he smirked when they came up for air.

"I am not…" he silenced her with another kiss.

"Stop it!" she pushed him away. "You cannot kiss your way out of every argument."

"Have I told you how I love your fire?" he said huskily, pulling her close.

"Careful, Mr. Salvatore, or you may get burned," she warned.

"We should both cool off, then," he smirked. "I will have the maids draw a bath."