Title: Properly

Rating: G/K+

Category: Romance, Richard/Camille, established relationship

Summary: A sequel to Succession

A/N: Follows on from Succession. Don't think you necessarily have to have read it, but some things will puzzle you if you haven't. Sincere thanks to katedf who read this when I was convinced it was rubbish, and gave me encouragement.

Chapter one: The Ring

From Succession:

"Are you asking me to marry you?" She asked incredulously.

"NO!" he very nearly shouted. "Why would you think that?!"

"Well, because wouldn't that be the only way for me to become a Duchess?" Camille questioned. She really hadn't been expecting this when she'd decided to come say hello to her mother.

"Well, maybe I just meant in general!" Richard glared at her, annoyed she'd jumped to marriage of all things. "And just for your information, if I was going to propose to you I would do it properly!"

The first thing he did, when he decided he was definitely going to do it, was make a checklist. Richard Poole was a checklist kind of person. Crossing things off made him feel like he was achieving something, and he knew it would also help keep him somewhat calm about the whole mission. He also considered giving the entire project an operational name, but decided that was a bit excessive and if Camille found out she might use it as evidence to get him sectioned. Thus Richard stuck with just the checklist, which he kept hidden rolled up in a pair of thick socks that he would never, ever need on Saint Marie. He was presuming Camille had no desire to go through his sock draw either, though she had one weekend sorted through his entire wardrobe, and he'd been forced to rescue several items from the bin pile when she wasn't looking.

Step one: the ring. First question: how to figure out her ring size? He approached a reputable jeweller, who told him to bring in a ring that he knew fit her, but she didn't really wear rings. Surely there were other ways he could measure her finger size? Checking the internet to see if other men in his situation had shared there solutions, he hit upon a method he thought might just work. Three mornings in a row, he attempted to wrap a piece of cardboard around her finger whist she was still sleeping. That plan failed completely, when Camille proved just what a light sleeper she was. The first morning, she woke as he was climbing out of bed to fetch the cardboard and pen. Learning from this, he left them in the draw of his bedside cabinet, but she woke when he opened the damn draw. Finally, he slept with the cardboard under his pillow, but (and it didn't really surprise him) she woke when he lifted her hand.

Wracking his brain, Richard came up with an alternative, somewhat elaborate plan that involved borrowing Rosie (Fidel didn't mind a free babysitter) and the girl's own collection of bulky plastic bracelets, rings and necklaces – as well as Catherine's assortment of costume jewellery. Rosie's eyes lit up when she realised she was allowed to play with this, and naturally proceeded to put on as much as she could, giving the same treatment to Camille (and to a certain extent, himself). With careful observation born out of years as a detective, he memorised which ring did seem to fit and slipped it into his pocket.

Pleased with himself, he presented the ring and was informed of the correct ring size (An O, whatever that meant). When asked what style engagement ring he wanted, he shrugged and said "Uh, something with a diamond?"

"Ok, so what kind of cut and shape?" The young woman behind the counter asked. When Richard looked at her blankly, she attempted to prompt him, "Round? Oval? Princess?"

Richard had no clue, and said as much. He turned down the offer of an explanation from the assistant for now, instead opting for his normal method of answering questions – incessant research. He found something called "A Practical Guide to Diamond Evaluation" on Amazon, which he though sounded ideal as he was, at least according to Camille, a devastatingly practical person. Though after finishing the book it he felt he could probably assess diamonds professionally, it hadn't helped him decide about the ring in any way at all. He holed himself up the library one afternoon when he discovered they had a book about famous diamonds. He tried not to sigh too loudly at how many famous diamonds were apparently 'cursed'. He supposed he was hoping one would have a remarkably romantic story attached to it, that he could use to justify his ring choice. But like its predecessor, this book also failed to categorically inform him what kind of diamond Camille would like best in a ring, and he realised it was quite likely no amount of research would answer that question. He had a choice: he could go with the most popular choice, or pick something on instinct. Richard was well aware that when it came to women, his instincts were not exactly the best. So, round brilliant cut it was.

He announced this to the same, clearly very patient, assistant. When she removed two enormous trays his face fell, then he suddenly remembered his other specification, "Oh and it has to be a conflict free diamond!"

"All of our diamonds are sourced from Canada, Sir," she explained patiently. Looked like that request wasn't narrowing his options down then. His face must have shown his distress, as she asked somewhat kindly, "Perhaps Sir has a preference on the type of gold or other metal used in the band?"

No, no he didn't, but then an idea occurred to him and he asked brightly, "Got any made of palladium?"

She blinked in surprise, Richard felt he should learn the poor girl's name, given this was his third visit and unlikely to be the last, "Well, not pure palladium. Some of our white gold bands maybe using palladium as part of the alloy, but I'd have to check with the manufacturers, and it could take some time."

"That's ok!" He reassured her, determined to carry through on his idea now he'd had it. The problem was, he had recently become obsessed by the idea that Camille would want to know exactly why he bought the ring he did, and was terrified if he didn't have some romantic explanation for every aspect of its design she'd say no. "I can come back next week."

Over the next week, he interviewed Fidel about his proposal to Juliet, and if she had asked questions about the ring. Fidel had really not been sure what he was on about, which could only be a good sign that he might be overreacting. He didn't tell Fidel why he was quizzing him, and the younger officer was gracious enough not to ask, but had since been shooting him encouraging smiles. Richard was now 98% sure his choice of a palladium gold alloy would be romantic enough. Though he did pop in and ask Molly (he had found out her name from the person who recommended the jeweller in the first place) her opinion as well, and she assured him that the very fact he had chosen the ring, and was taking such pains over doing so, was romantic enough.

His odd request of the jewellers meant when he returned the next weekend he had a mere three rings to pick from. Molly the assistant (who had invited Richard around for tea if he was ever in the neighbourhood – a sure sign the decision was taking him too long), explained every possible detail she could about each of the rings. He pretended to consider everything she said seriously, then just picked the one he though was vaguely prettier than the other two. Molly beamed proudly at him when he made the choice. She then ruined his day by asking if he wanted an inscription.

The panic must have showed on his face, because Molly continued, "Of course an inscription could be done at any time Sir, you could come back when she says yes."

"If she says yes," he couldn't help correcting, but the young woman shook her head almost fondly at him.

"Oh please, everyone on this island knows she'd say yes! Just imagine, Saint Marie having its very own Duchess."

Richard had not really needed the added pressure of discovering the island of Saint Marie was following the "royal romance" with some interest. If she did say no, they would be talking about it for the next twenty years. Mind, if she said yes, they would still be talking about it for the next twenty years – but he'd be too happy to care.