by Wolf, Bree
“Do not worry yourself,” Christina assured her friend, trying her best to offer her a comforting smile. “I do understand, and I would never hold it against you. Your parents have an exceptionally good reason to react the way they do. I’m sorry for what happened.”
A frown drove down Sarah’s brows. “Never have I heard you speak with such understanding about my parents. You were always so furious with the way they used me in order to solve their own problems.” Her gaze swept over Christina as though she were looking at someone she had never seen before. “What changed?”
Christina felt her hands begin to tremble, and she quickly folded them in her lap. “I do not know what you mean,” she quickly said, glancing out the window so Sarah could not look into her eyes. “Perhaps it is simply that the threat of a forced marriage between you and…Mr. Sharpe is no longer looming upon the horizon. You are safe now.” The words felt like ash in Christina’s mouth.
Sarah’s features softened, and a deeply affectionate smile came to her face. “You truly are the dearest of friends,” she exclaimed in a relieved sigh. “The moment I learned of what had happened, I could not help but feel…” She broke off and bowed her head, then glanced up at Christina. “I’m a most despicable person, am I not?” She swallowed, then raised her chin determinedly. “I came here today to tell you that I cannot allow you to sacrifice your happiness for mine.”
Christina froze. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I cannot allow you to marry him,” Sarah burst out, her features tense with reluctance despite her exclamation to the contrary. “I cannot allow you to ruin your life for me. I’ve thought about it long and hard, and I have come to accept that me marrying Mr. Sharpe is the best solution for everyone.”
Not for me, Christina thought to herself, desperately searching for some kind of argument that would convince Sarah to allow things to go ahead as planned. Or was this Christina’s chance to step back? Was this the moment when she ought to admit to Sarah what a good man she had found Mr. Sharpe to be? Was this the moment that she ought to tell Sarah not to be afraid, but happy instead?
Was this the moment she ought to let him go?
“It would most certainly appease my parents,” Sarah continued in a hushed voice. “They are so furious with me for—”
“Furious with you? Why would they be furious with you? You didn’t do anything!”
Sarah’s gaze dropped to her folded hands. “I…I failed to secure his affections.”
Christina gritted her teeth lest she be swayed to voice her outrage with regard to Lord and Lady Hartmore’s latest failure as parents. “You have nothing to blame yourself for, Sarah.” Christina reached out a hand and gently placed it upon Sarah’s. “Please, do not torture yourself. You are a good and kind person, and any man would be fortunate to call you his wife.”
A small smile appeared upon Sarah’s face. “You are kind to say so, but we both know that it is not true. Otherwise, I would be married already, would I not be?”
Christina shook her head vehemently. “I know no such thing. What I know is that your father’s interest in gambling and your mother’s need to re-furnish your family’s estate three times a year have chased away most eligible suitors. It had nothing to do with you. You must believe me, Sarah. Your parents are the problem, not you.”
Sarah’s hand squeezed hers gratefully. “Be that as it may; I cannot let you marry him. I want to see you happy. I want to see you find love, like Louisa and Leonora did.” Tears misted in her eyes whereas a wide smile stretched across Sarah’s face. “The Whickertons marry for love after all. Everyone knows that.”
Christina heaved a deep sigh, her heart twisting painfully at her friend’s kind words. She knew she did not deserve them; yet she also knew that if she were to give up Thorne, she would regret it for the rest of her life. “And what about you? Do you not also dream of finding love?”
Sarah shrugged, once more averting her gaze. “Not everyone is lucky enough to find love. I’ve been out for too many seasons already, and yet I have never truly lost my heart to anyone.” She looked up, blinking back tears. “Perhaps it is not meant to be for me.”
Christina tightened her hold on Sarah’s hand, more for her own sake than her friend’s. “Do you truly wish to marry Mr. Sharpe?”
A brave smile came to Sarah’s face. “Not everything in life is about what we wish.”
Christina frowned. “Whenever you look at him, I see you tense. Why? How can you contemplate marrying someone who clearly makes you uncomfortable? Has anything happened between the two of you? Has he done something to you that—?” Christina felt the breath lodged in her throat as she contemplated something she did not dare believe. Still, sometimes the world had a way of shocking one that went beyond one’s wildest imaginings. Could she truly have been wrong about Thorne? About the kind of man he was?
“What?” Sarah’s eyes widened before she quickly shook her head. “No! Nothing ever happened. We barely spoke two words to each other.”
Christina breathed a sigh of relief, surprised by how deeply she felt it. “Then why?”
Sarah bowed her head. “I cannot say for certain. I’ve heard…whispers.” She glanced up at Christina. “You yourself have spoken harshly about him, about men of his kind. I cannot help but think that…” She broke off, clearly unable to finish the thought. “He makes me nervous. I don’t know why, but I cannot help it.”
Christina closed her eyes, remembering her own apprehensive thoughts only too well. She remembered how Thorne had laughed when she had spoken to him of unspeakable things common men demanded of their wives. Had their kiss been such an unspeakable thing? If so, Christina could not help but think that the world at large was very mistaken about common men.
Or perhaps simply about Thorne.
Giving Sarah’s hand a gentle squeeze, Christina smiled at her friend. “I’m afraid I was severely mistaken about Mr. Sharpe’s character,” she said honestly, unable to lie to her friend, to keep lying to her friend.
Sarah frowned. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I mean,” Christina began, dreading every word she was about to say, knowing equally well that it needed to be said, “that over the past fortnight I’ve had the opportunity to spend some time in Mr. Sharpe’s company, and I have come to realize that…he is an incredibly good man.” Her voice caught on the last word, and she swallowed hard, trying her best to remain strong.
Sarah’s eyes were wide as they searched Christina’s face. “Do you truly mean what you say?”
Christina nodded. “We’ve spoken about…many things. He’s told me about his past, about his motivation in coming to London. He truly seems to care about those he’s responsible for. He’s one of those people who seek to make the world a better place. He has ambition, but not for himself. He’s kind and caring and devoted. He knows how to laugh about himself. He does not hold a grudge, and he treats others with respect, no matter the foolish things they might have said.” A wistful smile flickered across her face at the many wonderful memories she had acquired recently in Thorne’s company.
Sarah’s hand tightened upon hers, and Christina found her friend all but staring at her the moment her gaze refocused on the here and now. “You care for him,” Sarah breathed, shock marking her features. “Is it possible? Have you truly come to care for him?”
“No!” The word flew from Christina’s lips without thought, not because she intended to withhold the truth from her friend, but because she was not quite ready to admit it to herself.
Sarah’s eyes narrowed, a bit of a chiding look coming to her face.
“Perhaps,” Christina mumbled under her breath, unable to hold her friend’s gaze. “A little.”
“Look at me,” Sarah instructed, her voice surprisingly steady. “Christina, would you please look at me?”
Christina lifted her head. “I’m so deeply sorry. I should never have interfered. He is a good man, and I’m certain he will make you a good husband. I think you
will be happy with him.” Her heart throbbed painfully as the words left her lips, and she could not recall ever having felt this wretched.
A look of awe came to Sarah’s face as she slowly shook her head from side to side, her eyes still wide with shock…or rather surprise. “If you want him,” Sarah whispered, a smile in her voice, “then marry him.”
Thinking her ears had deceived her, Christina stared at her friend. “But I cannot! You were to marry him, and I should not have interfered. Who can say who your parents will settle on next? Sarah, you will continue to remain in danger to be married off to someone, anyone with a full purse if you do not marry Mr. Sharpe now.” She looked imploringly into Sarah’s eyes. “He is a good man. You will be safe with him.”
“And what of you?”
“My parents will never force me into an unwanted marriage. You know that. I shall be safe. Always.”
Sarah nodded. “Safe, yes. But is that enough? What will become of us if I marry the man you care for?” Slowly, she began shaking her head. “No, the only reason I came here today was to prevent you from throwing away your happiness for me. But,” her hands grasped Christina’s more tightly, “if marrying him makes you happy, then I want you to do it.”
Christina’s heart beat wildly in her chest. Hope made her smile, urging her to accept her friend’s offer. Still, guilt and fear lingered, concern for Sarah’s future, compelling her to insist otherwise. “I could never be happy as long as you are miserable.”
“We do not know what the future will bring. Perhaps I shall find love after all. But not now. Not with Mr. Sharpe.” Deep longing rested in Sarah’s eyes, and Christina could understand that she did not want to marry a man who might never love her. “Has he spoken to you of love?”
Christina shook her head, feeling that blossom of hope slowly whither. “He has not.” Only had he not said that he liked her? And had he not said so in a way that had made her insides dance with joy?
Perhaps one day…
“I do not wish to make this decision for you,” Sarah stated clearly, a new determination in her eyes that Christina had rarely seen before. “It is yours and only yours to make. However, I urge you to think on it. Do not throw away something that could mean your happiness. Think it through and tell me what you decide.” Giving Christina’s hands a last encouraging squeeze, Sarah rose to her feet. “I need to return home before my parents realize my absence.” She moved away, and then stopped at the door, looking back once more. “Ask yourself what you want, and don’t be afraid to reach for it.”
Then the door closed behind Sarah, leaving Christina alone with her thoughts. All those many thoughts, now more contradicting than ever. What was she to do?
Despite Sarah’s urgings, Christina could not disregard her friend’s future. No, Sarah was not her responsibility. Still, they had been friends since childhood. As Sarah had said, neither one of them would be happy if the other were miserable. What was she to do?
In truth, Christina could not say if she would ever come to love Thorne. Certainly, she had come to care for him, but what did that mean? Would she still care for him a year from now? Or would time teach them that they did not suit after all? How could she be certain?
A deep sigh left her lips as she sank deeper into her seat, her shoulders slouching as her head rolled back and her eyes closed.
What on earth was she to do?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Irritatingly Magical
The day had finally come. It was the night before his wedding day, and Thorne found himself seated at the Whickertons’ large dinner table, surrounded by Whickertons left and right, his somewhat sullen-looking betrothed across from him.
Ever since their kiss roughly a week ago, something had changed between them. Thorne could not quite say what it was; however, whenever they had seen each other since, she had reacted in a rather peculiar manner to his presence. Sometimes she had seemed rather hesitant and even displeased with his visit. Other times he could have sworn she had all but longed to see him. Unfortunately, no opportunity to be truly alone together had arisen since, and so Thorne kept wondering what had happened.
Had it truly been their kiss?
“Three granddaughters married in one year,” the dowager countess chuckled from one end of the long table. “Shall we make a wager?” She looked around the table, something mischievous sparking in her pale eyes as they came to linger upon her as of yet unmarried grandchildren. “The year is barely half over. Perhaps enough time is left to seek matches for all of you.”
The youngest Whickerton Harriet laughed and shook her head. “You are too sweet, Grandma, but there is no need to play matchmaker for me. I have,” she glanced down at her lap, “other plans.” Then she lifted her hands and set a toad onto the tabletop.
Thorne stared as did many others, completely caught off guard by the youngest Whickerton’s unusual behavior.
“Harriet!” the eldest Whickerton Juliet chided, her cheeks darkening as she cast a quick glance at Thorne. “I had hoped you would portray better manners in the presence of a guest.”
Harriet chuckled. “He is not a guest, is he?” She grinned at him. “He and Christina are all but married, which makes him our brother.” Her gaze darted to her two other brothers-in-law, Lord Barrington and Lord Pemberton, each seated next to his wife. “I think it about time he knows our true colors.”
While Lord and Lady Whickerton exchanged a knowing look, the dowager countess chuckled loudly. “That is too true, my dear. There should be no secrets among family, do you not agree, Mr. Sharpe?” Her eyes twinkled wickedly, and Thorne felt a slight chill crawl down his back as he thought of Samantha.
“Most certainly,” he replied, then turned his gaze to Christina, wondering about her quiet demeanor. Never had she been one at a loss for words; however, recently, it seemed she had nothing left to say.
Thorne wondered if he should have told her about Samantha. He had considered it. Only he had worried that it might be a reason for her to change her mind, and he had not wanted to give her any such reason. Still, he wondered what would happen if Christina did not welcome the little girl into their lives. Perhaps it would have been wiser to part ways instead of force them together against Christina’s will.
Perhaps he ought to have given her a choice.
Yet the truth was that he wanted her. But did she want him as well? Was that what their kiss had taught her? That she did not want him? That day, though, she had called their kiss magical, had she not? It had seemed as though she had been overwhelmed…yet strangely displeased to have found passion in his arms. Why would that bother her? Was she truly afraid of what else he might demand of her as her husband? Perhaps he ought to address the issue.
Although Christina remained somewhat quiet for the remainder of the evening, Thorne watched in delight as the rest of the family conversed easily. Laughter echoed through the room countless times. He saw glowing eyes and rosy cheeks as food was passed around and stories were shared. Everyone spoke without restraint, Harriet in particular, her toad returned to her room upstairs only after it had found its way into the bread basket, causing a shriek to escape Juliet’s lips.
It was a wonderful night, quite unlike those at home with Samantha. Of course, Thorne loved the girl dearly. Yet the house was rather quiet with only the two of them in it. How would Samantha feel living amongst a large family such as the Whickertons?
A smile came to Thorne’s face for he knew that she would adore it. Her little eyes would light up and she would shriek with delight.
When the evening finally drew to an end, Christina escorted him back out into the hall. At first, some of her siblings as well as her two new brothers-in-law intended to follow; however, a few words from the dowager countess held them back.
Thorne had to smile yet again, surprised to have found an ally in the old lady and appreciating it more than he would have thought.
The slowly setting sun shone in through the tall glass windows and cast a wa
rm glow over the main hall. No footman lingered nearby, and Thorne wondered if that, too, had been the dowager countess’ doing, allowing Christina and himself a moment alone.
“Good night,” his betrothed whispered, turning to face him, a somewhat strained smile upon her face.
Casting another glance over his shoulder, Thorne assured himself that they were indeed alone. Then he stepped toward her, his gaze insistent as it sought hers. “Did you lie?”
Her head snapped up, and a frown came to her face. “Why? What do you mean?” Her hands seemed to tremble before she balled them into fists and forced them behind her back as though seeking to hide them from him.
Thorne frowned, trying to understand what he was missing. “The other day, when I kissed you, you seemed to like it.” An unsteady breath left her lips. “Was that not true?”
Instead of answering him, Christina bowed her head in an oddly submissive gesture he would never have expected from her. He could not say he liked it. In fact, it troubled him.
“Why are you acting so strangely?” Thorne inquired, placing a hand upon her arm.
Her eyes rose to meet his, and he was relieved not to see anything akin to fear. Rather it was something that spoke of a torn heart. But why? “Who are you to say I am acting strangely,” she shot back, a hint of anger in her voice. “You barely know me. We’ve spoken once or twice, no more than that. We are all but strangers. So how would you know—?”
Thorne pulled her toward him, cutting off her words. Her eyes widened, and she lifted her hands to his chest. Still, he did not release her, but looked down into her eyes, daring her to keep contradicting him. “Do not lie to me,” he whispered quietly, feeling the soft puff of her breath against his lips. “You’re not shy and coy and insecure. You are none of these things. You’re bold and dauntless and…impertinent.” He grinned at her.
