Sophie jumped up as soon as she saw Christine and gave her a hug. “What are you doing here?”
Christine grimaced. “It’s a very long story.”
“Are you all right?”
“No,” Christine whispered.
“Hattie?” Clayton gave her a chaste hug. “Did something happen with Richard?”
She shook her head. “No, Clayton. Christine needed an escort, so I volunteered.”
“Would any of you mind if we stole Christine away for a few minutes?” Sophie asked.
Clayton shook his head. “Not at all. You may use my office for privacy.”
Hattie settled herself into a chair. “Would you mind if I stayed here and caught up with Clayton?”
Sophie shook her head. “Not at all.” She took Christine’s hand, motioned to Emma, and the girls led her to Clayton’s office. As soon as they closed the door, Christine burst into tears. Sophie pulled her into her embrace and stroked her back. “My dear sweet friend, what has happened?”
“He kissed me.”
“Who kissed you?”
Christine sobbed. “Stephen kissed me.”
“He did? That’s wonderful! He’s adored you for a while now. I was wondering when he would make his move.”
“It’s not wonderful.” Christine threw her hands in the air.
Emma frowned. “It’s not?”
“It most certainly is not!”
Emma glanced at Sophie. “I’m confused.”
“He can’t just go around kissing people. It’s not right. And what about Peter? What would he say? He needs to have more respect.”
Emma frowned. “Who’s Peter?”
“Her first husband,” Sophie said and then turned back to Christine. “Peter needs to have more respect?”
Christine huffed. “NO, Stephen!”
“Why does he need to have more respect?” Sophie asked.
“Peter?”
“Emma!” Sophie admonished.
Emma covered her mouth with her fingers. “Sorry.”
“He said that he’s in love with me and he wants me to marry him.”
Sophie grinned. “And what did you say?”
“I said I couldn’t marry him and then I left him standing in Nona’s parlor.”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “Did he let you go?”
“In a manner of speaking,” Christine said evasively.
Sophie gasped. “Christine! You didn’t.”
Christine shrugged. “I left him there and I came here. I didn’t know where else to go.”
“You ran away.”
“If you want to call it that, then fine! I ran away. He shouldn’t be asking people to marry him anyway. What kind of man does that?” Christine stomped her foot.
Sophie giggled. “A man who is in love with you.” She grabbed her arm and led her to the window. “Christine, sit down.”
Emma handed her a handkerchief.
Sophie took Christine’s hand. “Tell me everything that’s happened since we left. You two have been getting closer and closer over the past months, so what happened to make him act now?”
“Nothing in particular.”
“Riiiight. So, what happened ‘in general’ then?” Sophie asked.
“I don’t want to tell you,” she whispered.
Sophie laughed. “Teeny, what did you do?”
Christine took a deep breath. “I had a little accident.”
Emma frowned. “You had a little accident?”
Christine nodded. “Yes.”
“What kind of accident?” Sophie asked.
Christine raised her chin. “It was nothing.”
“Nothing enough for you to run away from a man who said he loved you,” Sophie pointed out.
Christine sighed and picked at the embroidery on the handkerchief. “I rode a horse and Stephen objected.”
“Heard that one before,” Emma retorted.
“Emma,” Sophie admonished. “Christine. Why did he object?”
“I was riding a horse unfamiliar to me.”
“Why weren’t you riding Ben?” Sophie asked.
Christine shrugged. “The doctors and nurses decided to get together for a group picnic and I wasn’t expecting to ride.”
“But you take Ben everywhere? Why not then?”
“I took the buggy this time, so chose one of the pull horses instead.”
“And…” Sophie pressed.
Christine huffed. “And, I was thrown.”
“You were?” Emma exclaimed. “What happened?”
“How, Teeny?” Sophie asked, ignoring Emma’s question.
“Lila challenged me.”
“Lila Sylvester?”
“Yes, exactly,” Christine hissed.
“What do you mean, she challenged you?” Emma asked.
“Lila wanted to show off her riding skills to Stephen, so the trollop rode right past him and jumped one of the fences.”
“All right. How is that a challenge, Christine, and how do you know she wanted to show off to Stephen?”
“After she jumped the fence, she rode up to him and asked him to lift her down. Then she kept her hands on his shoulders.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “That’s just awful.”
“Yes, what a whore,” Sophie quipped.
Christine hissed. “She was all over him—it was positively unseemly. And people were going on and on about her magnificent riding.”
“So?” Sophie challenged.
“Well, I guess I got a little bit angry, so I tried to do the same thing.”
Sophie frowned. “You guess you got angry?”
“Yes.”
“At the trollop?”
Christine nodded. “Yes.”
Sophie squeezed her hand. “So, what was the problem?”
“The problem is that I’m not as good a rider as she is. The horse shied at the fence and threw me.”
“Oh, I hate it when that happens,” Emma murmured.
Sophie sent Emma a look of warning and then focused back on Christine. “How badly were you hurt?”
Christine shrugged. “I wasn’t hurt. A few scrapes and bruises… but Stephen was livid.”
Sophie met her gaze. “How do you know he was livid?”
“He growled at me, Sophie. He sounded like an angry dog.” Christine burst into tears again. “He didn’t stay for the rest of the picnic. He just took me straight home.”
“You mean, you didn’t get to pass “GO” and collect two hundred dollars?” Emma retorted.
“Emma,” Sophie admonished again and then turned back to Christine. “So, is that when he kissed you and told you he wanted to marry you?”
“No, that was when he just kissed me.”
“Then what?” Sophie probed.
“I didn’t know what to think, so I went to the hospital the next day. Just as I do every day. He kept watching me and it made me very uncomfortable. Any time a patient did something Stephen didn’t like, he was right there to move me out of the way. He kept overreacting! Remember Ryan Smith?”
“The young man with the amputated leg?”
Christine nodded. “Yes. He told me that he was in love with me and took my hand.”
Sophie cocked her head. “Okay. And?”
“Well, Stephen waltzed right up and pulled his hand from mine and then pushed me away. It was frustrating.”
“Why was it frustrating?’ Emma asked.
“Because I couldn’t do my job adequately.” Christine went silent.
“You needed to hold his hand in order to do your job?” Emma took a deep breath. “I don’t get how this whole Civil War hospital thingy works.”
“Holy shit, Christine, you are driving me crazy! Spill for heaven’s sake!” Sophie snapped.
Christine sighed in frustration, but finally continued the story. “Stephen showed up at Michael and Nona’s that night because he knew I was having dinner there. He and Michael went off together for a few minutes and then he pulled me into
the parlor for a private conversation.”
“And that’s when he proposed?”
“Yes and kissed me.”
“He’s kissed you twice?” Sophie asked.
“Three times, actually. But that’s not the point!”
Emma giggled, but slapped her palm over her mouth at her sister’s warning scowl.
“Did you like the kisses?” Sophie asked.
Christine lifted her fingers to her lips and stared into space.
“Teeny?” Sophie pressed.
“I loved the kisses.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Christine blew her nose. “I have never felt this way before.”
“Never?” Emma asked. “But you were married?”
“It’s different.”
“How is it different?”
Christine stood again and started to pace. “I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. It’s not right.”
Sophie grinned up at her. “Oh, honey, you’re in love. It’s perfectly right.”
“But I was in love with Peter.”
“No one’s disputing that,” Sophie assured her.
“But it didn’t feel this way! I never felt sick over him and I never felt jealousy or insecurity when we were courting.”
Emma grinned. “Is that how you feel with Stephen?”
“Yes! And I hate it. I can’t go back,” Christine cried and then looked at Emma. “Please, may I stay?”
“Of course you can, silly woman,” Emma said.
“Thank you.”
“So, tell me.” Sophie patted the seat of Christine’s chair. “Are you feeling guilty about your feelings for Stephen?”
“Because of Peter, you mean?”
“Yes.”
Christine took her seat. “No, not really. It’s been well over a year since he died, but he’d already been gone from our home a year before that, so I feel as though the grief is done. I can remember a sweet time in my life with him and little Ellie, but I don’t feel the pain anymore. Just a precious memory.”
“Then, why don’t you let yourself love Stephen?”
“This can’t possibly be love, Sophie. It’s far too intense.” Christine tapped her fingers on her knees. “It’s better that I just distance myself from him and move on with my life.”
“Ah, I see.” Sophie rose to her feet. “Well, my friend, I’m famished and you must be too, so let’s go and have some dinner. You’ll get some sleep tonight and feel better in the morning.”
Sophie linked arms with Christine and she and Emma led her down to the dining room. The girls walked into the room to find everyone seated, but the men stood and Jamie hugged Christine before he helped her sit.
Clayton raised his eyebrow in question at the look of Christine’s red eyes and nose.
“I’ll tell you later,” Emma whispered. “We’ll need a couple of extra rooms though.”
Clayton nodded and informed Walter to have their housekeeper prepare the rooms.
ON FRIDAY, EMMA decided to give Sophie another dance lesson. Gwen, Hattie, and Christine watched and tried to help, but without success. Emma spent the majority of the time dodging Sophie’s feet.
Sophie pushed Emma away. “This is a stupid dance!”
Gwen smiled. “Sophie, you’re doing fine.”
“Yes. You can’t learn it in one lesson, you just have to practice,” Christine said.
Sophie waved her hand in the air. “I’ll show you where you can shove—”
“Sophie!” Emma cut her off before she could finish the sentence.
Christine laughed. “Remember the ballroom incident when she nearly broke your toes, Emma?”
“Yes, the self-sabotaging session.” Emma grinned. “You’re doing it again, Sophie. You’re over-thinking it.”
“Can we please try a waltz?” Sophie whined.
“Would you like some cheese with that whine?” Emma quipped.
Sophie stuck her tongue out at her.
“Sure we can,” Emma said. “Christine, would you please play a waltz?”
“I’d be happy to.” Christine sat down at the piano and began to play.
Sophie and Emma began to dance and Sophie did well, for about ten seconds, and then stepped on Emma’s toes. “Ow!”
“Sorry, Em.” Sophie threw her arms in the air. “This is lame. I’m never going to get it.”
“You were getting it the other day, what’s different now?”
“Probably the music,” Sophie said.
“You need to forget about the tune, sis, and think about the timing. It’s easy.”
Sophie scowled. “It is not easy! It’s stupid.”
“Think of the song we practiced to,” Emma suggested.
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re a freaking dancer, Emma. I’m not. I never was one, never will be one, and I suck at this.”
Emma stepped closer and whispered, “Okay, but you’re a singer, so hum “Nothing Else Matters” over whatever Christine is playing.”
Christine laid her hands on her lap. “Perhaps we should take a break.”
Sophie grimaced. “Or just quit. Quitting would be good.”
Emma shook her head. “No, you’re going to get this. We’ll have Clayton help after dinner. It will be better dancing with someone who is an actual lead.”
Sophie rubbed her stomach. “Well, right now, Peanut wants lunch, so can we start with lunch?”
“Fine. Let’s start with lunch.” Emma sighed. “First, though, I need to grab something from Clayton’s office. I’ll meet you in the dining room.”
Emma made her way into the small room and pushed the curtain aside for light. She’d left a design for a new gown on his desk the night before, but it seemed to have disappeared. A quick shuffle of papers revealed something she’d not expected. A modern-day driver’s license.
“What the—?” A chill raced up her spine as she read the name and studied the picture.
“Em?” Sophie knocked on the door and stepped inside. “Are you going to eat with us?”
“Hm?”
“What’s wrong?” Emma handed her the license. Sophie glanced at it and nodded. “Victor Cary’s license.”
Emma shook her head. “That’s not Victor Cary.”
Sophie dropped it back on the desk. “Of course it is.”
“No, it’s not.”
Sophie snorted. “Em, it’s right there in black and white.”
Emma slapped her hand on top of the desk. “Sophie, that is not Victor Cary. I know who Victor Cary is, because he was all over the news. Standing next to his criminal of an uncle when they tried to steal the senate seat from Robin Wade!”
Sophie gasped. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Oh, my—” Sophie sank into one of the chairs facing the desk and dropped her face into her hands. “No, no, no, no.”
“What’s going on?”
“He’s the man who tried to kill me. The man that Andrew and Clayton interrogated, and the one who took some kind of suicide pill.” Sophie stood and started to pace. “If that’s not Victor Cary, then who was the man who tried to kill me?”
Emma grabbed her arm. “Sophie, stop.”
“We need to talk to the guys.”
“Sophie? Emma?” Christine pushed the door open. “Anything amiss?”
Emma slid the license into her pocket and shook her head. “Nope, we just got sidetracked.” She squeezed Sophie’s arm. “Let’s eat.”
Emma followed Sophie and Christine into the dining room and sat down with Hattie. Emma and Sophie handled stress differently. Sophie starved and Emma ate. Voraciously. She’d finished off two sandwiches and was on her third by the time Jamie and Clayton walked through the front door.
Emma heard their voices as the front door closed. She pushed her crumb-filled plate away and stood. “Excuse me for a moment, please.”
“Me, too. Sorry.” Sophie followed.
Clayton and Jamie were chuckling as they handed th
eir coats and hats to Walter, but as soon as Jamie saw Sophie, he stalled. “What’s wrong?”
“Emma?”
Emma grimaced at her husband’s low voice. “We should go to your office.”
Clayton nodded and led them to the back of the house. He waited for the threesome to cross the threshold and then closed the door. “What’s amiss?”
Emma pulled the license from her pocket and handed it to him. “This.”
Jamie snatched it from his hand. “Where the hell did you get this?” Clayton stepped to the window and Jamie advanced on him. “Clay?”
“Andrew.”
“Goddammit,” Jamie snapped.
Emma cleared her throat. “Okay, people, can we focus? The issue is not that he has it, or how he got it, but the fact that the information on it is incorrect—actually, more like a blatant lie.”
Jamie’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, incorrect?”
Emma pointed at the license. “That is not Victor Cary.”
Sophie sat down with a groan. Jamie stood next to her. “Who is it, then?”
Emma shrugged. “He looks kind of familiar, but I can’t quite place him. All I know for certain is that he is not Victor Cary. Not even close.”
Clayton rolled his eyes. “Emma, the man is dead. It doesn’t matter who he is.”
Jamie dragged his hands down his face. “If what Emma’s saying is true, Clayton, Topper wasn’t delusional.”
Emma frowned. “Delusional about what?”
Jamie groaned.
“Start talkin’, Jamie,” Sophie ordered. “What did Topper say?”
“When the men were torturing him, he passed out—”
“Tortured?” Emma snapped. “You didn’t tell me he was tortured.”
Clayton leaned against his desk. “I didn’t think you needed to know that, Emma.”
“You should have told me.”
“I told him not to tell you everything.” Jamie reached over and squeezed her shoulder. “I just didn’t think you needed to hear all the specifics.”
Emma crossed her arms. “Well, I’d prefer the big-brother act to stop going forward. Especially, when it comes to what is discussed between myself and my husband.”
Jamie sighed. “Fair enough.”
“Thank you.” Emma gave a curt nod. “What happened after he passed out?”
“When he came to, he pretended to still be out cold and heard one of the men say the Wade family were a threat to the Cary family, and that Travis and Christopher Wade had to be killed. Since Travis had already been killed in battle, they were sent to take care of Topper.”
The Bride Found Page 28
