Considering her own outlook on life, Christine realised that he might be just the right man for her. After all, he seemed just as disinterested in marriage as she was herself.
A slow smile came to her lips as she contemplated the idea of making him a rather indecent proposal, one that would surely wipe that smug smile off his face.
The right time would come, she counselled herself, and then it would be her turn to throw him off balance−literally speaking, of course.
* * *
The next few days Wesley spent by his brother’s bedside.
Doomed to rest, William’s mood grew foul. He had little patience and more than once threatened to simply stride from his bed and do as he pleased. Only Wesley’s careful reminder of the life he did not remember could keep William where he was.
Again and again, his brother asked about his wife, about the way they’d met and the life they’d led. And although Wesley did his best to answer his brother’s questions, he did not wish to say too much, knowing that it was imperative William speak to Christine…or rather Catherine pretending to be Christine.
Had he actually agreed to this insane plan?
Whenever he would come upon Christine, his heart would pick up its pace as though he had been drugged, and he had trouble forming a coherent thought. Had she always been this intoxicating? There was something about the fire that burned in her dark green eyes that set his whole world ablaze.
And she knew it, didn’t she?
Sometimes, he thought to see a knowing twinkle in her eyes, and he felt certain that without the constant reminder of why they both were currently at Harrington Park, he would have already whisked her away to Gretna Green.
When Dr. Martin finally gave his permission for William to leave his bed, there was no stopping him. Although apprehensive, he strode from his room that night, his eyes gliding over the home of his childhood, seeking to detect the small anomalies that time inevitably brought with it. However, before long, their conversation just as inevitably returned to the one topic that brought pain to his brother’s eyes: Catherine.
“I’m sorry to put this on you, big brother,” Wesley said, a touch of guilt seeping into his heart, “but you need to know how difficult this is for her.”
Misery clearly edged into his features, William turned away. “I know.”
“Do you?” Wesley pressed, following the plan Christine had concocted in that beautiful, and yet, foolish head of hers.
“What do you want me to say?” William snapped as he spun around. “I feel as though you’re accusing me of forgetting her on purpose.”
At his brother’s outburst, Wesley instantly regretted his words. What was Christine doing to him? Had he completely abandoned sanity? “I’m sorry. That is not what I meant to say. I simply thought to explain that she is beside herself with sadness and that it might take some time for her to face you, to speak to you.” At least, that much was true.
“I understand.”
If only he did, Wesley thought, but instead said, “We should go. Supper will be served shortly.”
Upon entering the dining room, Wesley felt his brother stiffen. Toward the other end of the long table stood their mother as well as the two sisters, who turned toward them upon their approach.
Seeing Christine dressed in a proper, mildly coloured dress, her eyes lowered and her hands wringing a handkerchief as though distraught, Wesley could barely contain his amusement. And yet, he had to give her credit for she did look truly saddened. He could only hope that William would not see through their charade.
Introductions were made quickly, and before long, they were all seated around the large table, an uncomfortable silence hanging over their heads.
Occasionally, Wesley conversed with Catherine, seeing the strain their charade caused her clearly on her face. After all, was she not also a victim of Christine’s ludicrous mind?
Glancing down the table, Wesley saw an equally tormented expression on his brother’s face. Christine, however, seemed to be enjoying herself. While her whole demeanour could be considered appropriate for a woman in her position−or rather her sister’s−there was something in her eyes that spoke of enjoyment rather than dread. Whenever he would catch her gaze, Wesley could see a hidden excitement gleam from underneath her proper exterior, and his own pulse quickened at the mere thought of it.
Only his brother’s desolate state could keep him from enjoying that evening as much as she did.
Chapter Three
Chapter Three − Whose Brother-in-law?
“Look!” Christine called over from the window front. “He’s going after her!”
Excitement bubbled over, and she bounced up and down on her feet, her eyes glued to something in the gardens.
Coming to stand beside her, Wesley saw his brother follow Catherine down the snow-covered path into the back garden that was laced with tall-standing hedges.
“Oh, this is going exactly as planned!” Clasping her hands together, Christine gnawed on her lower lip, her eyes sparkling like the snow crystals outside. “And you thought it was a foolish plan,” she accused him, slapping him on the arm in unabashed triumph.
Wesley gritted his teeth. Something about the way she spoke always riled him into contradicting her. For some reason, he could not allow her to be right. “Your enthusiasm is a little premature, don’t you think?”
Forcing her eyes from the scene outside, Christine fixed him with an icy glare that sent Wesley’s heart into an uproar. Why was he enjoying this so?
“Your negativity serves no purpose,” she hissed, once more poking an accusing finger into his chest. “If you intend to contribute nothing but poignant comments, you might as well take your leave.” She turned back to the window. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of them.”
Wesley scoffed, surprised how much the thought of leaving her side affected his mood. “I would be a fool to leave this ludicrous endeavour in your hands without at least making certain that all is done to ensure its success−as unlikely as it may be.”
“Unlikely?” Christine echoed, her voice indicating that she had clearly taken affront. Inhaling deeply, she turned to him once more, and her dark eyes roamed his face as though trying to understand him. Did she know how much he enjoyed their banter?
Holding her inquisitive gaze, Wesley inhaled her intoxicating scent and his hands itched to reach for her. Only the code of proper conduct that had been drilled into him since birth prevented him from throwing caution to the wind.
“You are a wolf in sheep’s clothing, are you not?” she whispered, her eyes serious as a knowing curl came to her soft lips. “You seem proper and well-behaved, always courteous and considerate,” she observed, her eyes sliding over him in open perusal, “but that is not who you are underneath, is it?”
Stunned into silence, Wesley stared at her. Never had a lady spoken to him like this nor glimpsed his true nature as easily as Christine.
“You have a wicked sense of humour,” she continued as though reading an indictment. “Although you are loyal and respectful of those you care about, you often find yourself wishing you weren’t forced to abide by society’s rules and could simply do as you please. Is that not so?”
Wesley drew in a slow breath. Then he took a step forward, and her eyes widened ever so slightly as she raised her chin to hold his gaze. Looking down at her, Wesley gritted his teeth as his gaze travelled down to where her teeth worried her lower lip. “You surprise me, my lady. I thought a proper young woman such as yourself would find the company of a man such as you just described more than a bit alarming. However, you do not seem worried in the least.”
A slow smile curled up her lips. “I never said I was a proper lady. I do try to act the part−I suppose for the same reason you do−however, underneath I believe I’m a lot like you.”
Frowning, Wesley opened his mouth to reply. However, a shout from outside interfered.
Instantly, their heads snapped sideways, and Christine almost pressed
her nose to the glass as she stared out into the garden. “They’re having a snowball fight,” she exclaimed, joy ringing in her voice. Then she turned to look at him, new triumph shining in her eyes. “As unlikely as you believe it to be,” she taunted, “I think your brother has just taken the first step of falling in love with Catherine all over again.”
Ignoring the look of decisive superiority on her face, Wesley watched as William and Catherine chased each other around the garden, throwing and evading snowballs as they went. At the sight, some of the tension left his shoulders, and Wesley hoped with all his heart that his brother would once more come to love the woman he’d married.
In addition, that would free his mind to contemplate much more tantalising ideas that had only recently entered his mind. Glancing at Christine, he wondered what she would say if he truly were to act as he pleased.
A part of him thought−and feared−that she might not even object.
* * *
Seeing the joy on her sister’s face, Christine felt her own heart dancing in her chest. Catherine’s eyes glowed as she told them about the morning she had shared with William in the snow, and her voice reverberated with hope, hope that one day her husband would come to love her once more.
Foolish plan? Christine thought with satisfaction as she remembered Wesley’s remarks from that morning. Eyeing him with disdain, she turned back to her sister. “So, what’s next?”
“What do you mean?” Catherine asked, a frown coming to her face.
“Well, we need to create opportunities for the two of you to be together,” Christine said, determined to prove to Wesley that her mind was capable of more than thinking of the latest fashion, “preferably alone. We cannot leave that to chance. That might take too long.”
Stepping closer, Wesley cleared his throat, and Christine felt his presence as he came to stand to the side of her left shoulder as though he had touched her. A shiver went over her, and it took all her willpower to remain unaffected. “While we’re on the subject,” he spoke, and his breath tickled her cheek before he stepped around and looked at her, “have you considered leaving?”
“Leaving?” That was the last thing she had expected him to say.
Wesley nodded. “The estate, I mean. I imagine your presence here is less than…beneficial.” The mischievous twinkle in his eyes stirred her resistance, and had it not been for her sister’s presence, she would have gladly slapped that smug smile off his face once more.
“But where could she go?” Catherine asked, oblivious to the undercurrent in her brother-in-law’s tone. “And for what reason? As his wife, she belongs at his side.”
Rolling her eyes, Christine sighed. “Well, I could always have an ailing friend in need. I will simply talk to Will and tell him that I received a message from a friend begging me to call on her.”
Holding her gaze for a moment too long, Wesley nodded before he said, “I suggest that we involve as few people in this as possible. Tell Will what you said,” he turned his gaze to Catherine, “and then I will take her to Sanford Manor.”
“Sanford Manor?” A dim recollection of her sister telling her of the snug little house somewhere in the middle of nowhere entered Christine’s mind, and a shiver went down her back. “What on earth would I do there?”
A barely suppressed grin on his face, Wesley said, “Stay out of the way,” before he turned to Catherine. “I’ll take her to Sanford Manor. As you know, it’s a small estate with only a handful of servants, and as long as she stays in her room, that shouldn’t pose a problem.”
“Excuse me!” Christine demanded, eyeing him with a hint of suspicion. He was enjoying this too much, and the crinkles around his eyes clearly told her that he had an ulterior motive. Although her heartbeat quickened at the thought of his ulterior motive−whatever it might be−she refused to be manoeuvred across the chess board like a pawn.
If she couldn’t be the queen, she’d rather not play at all!
“Only,” Catherine hesitated, a touch of unease drawing down her brows, “will it be proper for you to escort her to the estate without a chaperone to accompany you?”
Instantly, an idea flared to life, and Christine stepped forward and took her sister’s hands, elbowing Wesley out of the way in the process. “Do not worry, dear Sister. People will have no reason to gossip. After all, he is my brother-in-law.”
As expected, she could almost feel Wesley tense up behind her. A low rumble escaped his throat, and he almost growled, “I’m not your brother-in-law. I’m Catherine’s brother-in-law.”
Forcing an earnest expression on her face, Christine turned to him, delighted to see obvious displeasure edged into his blue eyes. “And since I’ll be Catherine, you’ll be my brother-in-law, understood?”
Gritting his teeth, he swallowed as his eyes burned into hers, a promise of retribution flaring to life.
Goose bumps broke out all over Christine’s body as she held his gaze, grateful for the layers of fabric that hid her own traitorous reaction to his presence. Then she allowed herself a little, triumphant smile, which had him turn on his heel and stride over to the window, before addressing her sister once more. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine. I, on the other hand, will suffer greatly.”
“Are you worried about your reputation after all?” Catherine asked, her face betraying the concern she felt.
“Oh, aren’t you a dear?” Christine chuckled. “No, I’m worried about being locked up in a small country estate for one reason alone, and that is boredom.”
A low growl reached her ears from the window front, and Christine could only hope that Wesley Everett was far from the gentleman he always portrayed. After all, boredom was the last thing Christine hoped to find at Sanford Manor.
Chapter Four
Chapter Four − Off to Sanford Manor
Watching the footmen load their luggage onto the carriage, Christine drew her sister aside. “For once, do not worry,” she counselled, gently squeezing Catherine’s trembling hands. “Just be yourself. Laugh and smile and live as you always have with all your heart and soul, and he will remember you. I promise.”
Blinking back tears, Catherine nodded. “Thank you for everything,” she whispered. “I know this is terribly inconvenient for you, and I can only hope that you will find something entertaining to do at Sanford Manor.”
Suppressing a grin, Christine smiled. “Do not worry about me, dear Sister. I have every intention of finding amusement wherever I can.” Turning to William, she whispered a tearful goodbye and allowed him to assist her into the carriage.
As he stepped back, Wesley walked up to him and gave him a brotherly embrace. Glancing at them, Christine wondered about the knowing grin that spread over Wesley’s face as he said something that had William’s eyes open wide.
Then he stepped back, and with a last nod for his brother, Wesley took his seat in the carriage.
“What did you say to him?” Christine asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.
Meeting her eyes, Wesley smirked, and for a moment, she thought he would not tell her.
However, as the carriage rumbled along, slowly inching down the drive, a deep smile spread over his face. “I told him that I knew he remembered something.”
Christine’s eyes went wide. “And did he?”
“I’m certain of it,” Wesley confirmed. “Yesterday, when you told him about our departure, he looked at Catherine with such longing regret that I could barely contain the relief I felt. He didn’t want her to go, which became all the more obvious when you informed him of Catherine’s intention to stay behind and aid him in his recovery.”
Clapping her hands, Christine bounced in her seat as warmth filled her heart. “How wonderful!” she rejoiced before her eyes met Wesley’s, open triumph in them. “I knew it! Maybe we should have made a wager.”
Wesley laughed. “And what would you have wagered?” A smirk came to his face as his eyes slid over her, and for a moment, Christine feared…or rather hoped�
��that he would suggest something improper. “The contents of your closet? Although what I’d do with alluring gowns I could not say.”
Glancing down at her simple overcoat, hiding a gown that was just as simple underneath, Christine huffed in annoyance. “Maybe we should have wagered about our destination,” she suggested, and a gleam came to her eyes. “Maybe it’s not too late to wager.” She raised her eyebrows in open challenge.
Grinning, Wesley shook his head. “I’m afraid I have to decline. Even if you believe otherwise, I have more sense than to enter into an impromptu wager with a woman whose motives remain unclear.”
Christine laughed. Had he always been this entertaining? “You insist on Sanford Manor then?”
“I’m afraid I have to. After all, our siblings’ happiness is at stake.”
Rolling her eyes, Christine sighed. “We’ve done all that we could by leaving. Where we spend the time of our absence is irrelevant.”
“While you may be correct with regard to William’s feelings for Catherine,” Wesley stated, his gaze unwavering, “I believe it to be unwise to add to their troubles by causing rumours. You,” he fixed her with a determined gaze, “ought to stay out of sight. Therefore, Sanford Manor is perfectly suited to our needs.”
“Our needs?” Christine asked, biting her lower lip.
Suppressing a smile, Wesley ignored her. “It is far off the main road, and the only neighbour within reach is an old friend of ours. Therefore, we are in no danger of being discovered. Apart from the servants employed at the manor, no one will know you’re there.”
A Lady’s Christmas Rake Page 32
