by Wolf, Bree
Christina remained silent, her wide blue eyes fixed upon his face. Yet he thought to see a mild softening of her features as though his words had brought her relief…if only a small measure of it. “Then…she’s a bastard?” She all but flinched at the last word, and he could see her displeasure at hearing it leave her lips. “Where is her mother? Who is she?”
Thorne heaved a deep sigh. “In all honesty, I cannot say for certain. I’ve never met her.”
Her gaze narrowed in confusion. “You’ve never met her? But how—?” She shook her head. “Would you care to explain this to me in a way I can understand?” A sharp tone came to her voice, and she uncrossed her arms, settling her hands upon her hips.
Thorne almost smiled for he liked that defiant expression upon her features. He moved toward one of the armchairs and gestured for her to sit in the other. “Please.”
Christina shook her hand. “No, I cannot sit now. I am much too—” She broke off, spun around and paced a few steps back and forth. Then she once more turned and met his eyes. “Explain yourself.”
Thorne nodded. “Although Samantha calls me Father,” he began, sending a quick glance at the door to ensure that it was truly closed, “I am not the man who fathered her.” He heaved a deep sigh as he remembered the day he had first laid eyes upon Samantha. “It was in the deep of winter. Snow covered the ground, and an icy chill lingered in the air when a knock sounded on my front door. I was about to retire and crossing the foyer at the time when I heard it. I went to open it,” he blinked, and his gaze moved to settle upon his wife’s, “and there she was, wrapped in a thin blanket, placed upon my doorstep.”
A shuddering breath left Christina’s lips as she stared at him, something achingly soft in her eyes, a feeling he remembered, a feeling that returned to him every time he recalled that first moment with Samantha. “Her mother left her upon your doorstep?” she whispered, utter disbelief in her voice.
Thorne nodded. “There was a note tucked into the blanket. It was no more than a few words, a few misspelled and barely legible words.” Holding Christina’s gaze, he took a step toward her, and this time, she did not retreat. “Life is hard for those who were not born to privilege. I try my utmost to be a fair employer and pay my workers a wage that allows them to live and not merely exist from day to day.” He briefly closed his eyes as countless memories resurfaced of all the atrocities he had witnessed. “But I am one man, and there are many who simply do not care. Far too many people die every day because of something that could’ve easily been prevented. Parents work themselves to death, and children grow up in poverty, never knowing anything else. It is a sad world,” he gritted his teeth until his jaw ached, “one that never fails to stir anger in my heart.”
Tears misted Christina’s eyes, and Thorne loved her for it. He loved that this very moment when she felt betrayed herself, when she had been hurt, she could still feel for others. Her heart was still able to show compassion. “It is why you came to London.”
“It is,” Thorne confirmed, remembering the moment he had come to realize that his own efforts alone would not do. “I tried to find Samantha’s mother,” he continued, linking his arms behind his back. “But I never managed to. I don’t know who she was. I don’t know if she still lives.” A small smile came to his lips as a spark of joy shot through his heart. “I never…intended to keep her, but as I kept searching for her mother, day after day passed and eventually…” Looking at his wife, he shrugged.
Blinking back tears, Christina nodded. “You couldn’t give her up,” she finished for him. “She had already become yours.”
Thorne inhaled a deep breath. “Yes, she had. So, I gave her my name and…” He paused. “I gave her my name, and yet the first time she called me Father, I…” He shook his head, looking at her. “Perhaps I was a fool for not seeing it coming. Why would she not call me Father? Nonetheless, I had not expected it. I should have. It is not those who bring us into the world we hold to heart, is it? It is the ones that stand with us every day through every trial.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes, then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Honestly, I have never spoken about her to anyone. Not like this.”
Emotions flickered in Christina’s eyes; however, she remained where she was, the expression upon her face preventing him from stepping closer. “Why did you not tell me?”
The doubting accusation in her voice felt like a punch to the gut. “I don’t know. I—”
“Yes, you do!” Something fierce came to her eyes as she took a step closer, pinning him with her gaze. “You do know. Be honest and admit to it.”
Thorne gritted his teeth, his lower jaw moving back and forth as he looked at her. “I was afraid,” he finally said, every fiber of his being revolting against the admission. In his world, weakness was exploited. It was the first lesson he had ever learned, and it still lived in his bones. “I was afraid you would change your mind and refuse to marry me.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line before she nodded. “I know. You came to London to seek connections, to bring about change and improve the lives of those you feel responsible for.” She turned away and walked over to look out the window. “It is a noble ambition and it recommends you. I know I misjudged you, but you should have told me.”
Despite seeing only the back of her head, Thorne could tell that his lack of trust had wounded her. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have told you. I wanted to, but I simply could not take the risk.” He did not even dare picture a life without her by his side. Only a matter of weeks had passed since he had first laid eyes on her, and yet she had already become such an intricate part of his life that…the mere thought of her not being here with him sent a crippling agony through his body.
Thorne closed his eyes. When had he come to care for her in such a way? How could he not have noticed? Of course, he had been aware of her allure. There was something about her that drew him near. Something that made him seek her out. Something that made it hard for him to stay away.
From the first, he had known that he wanted her and no other. The choice had been easy. It had not truly been a choice. He had seen her, and he had known. Only the depth of his dependence upon her, upon her presence in his life, was shocking, nonetheless.
“I wish to be alone,” Christina whispered, keeping her gaze fixed out the window. “Please.”
Every fiber of his being told him to stay; yet a gentleman would comply, would he not? It would be the honorable thing to do. “Very well.” He stepped back and moved toward the door, then stopped and looked back at her. “I will see to Samantha. Please feel free to go wherever you wish. This is your home as much as it is mine.” He placed his hand upon the door handle. “I am sorry for the manner of your arrival here. I should’ve spoken to you before now. You have my sincerest apologies and my promise to do better in the future.”
Thorne waited for another moment or two, hoping that she would turn around and look at him, that she would say something, anything.
But she did not.
With her back turned to him, Christina remained standing by the window, her eyes directed at the gardens outside or perhaps at something beyond.
Finally opening the door, Thorne left, hoping that his silence had not doomed them all.
Chapter Thirty
A New Life
Staring out the window, Christina felt tears slowly sneak their way down her cheeks. She clenched her teeth to keep the sobs that rose in her throat from spilling forth. She could still sense her husband standing by the door, looking at her, waiting.
For what, she did not know nor care. All she wanted was for him to leave.
When she finally heard the door close behind him, all her composure fell away. Her limbs began to tremble, and she sank down onto her knees as floods of tears spilled down the sides of her face. Why she broke down in such a profound way, Christina did not know. It made no sense after all. They had known each other a few weeks, no more. She could not possibly have come to care for him in a
way that would see her heart in such danger because of a lie.
Only it was not the lie that pained her, was it?
Angrily, Christina brushed the tears from her cheeks, willing them to stop flowing. Unfortunately, they would not listen.
And so, she sat there, upon the floor behind the armchair and wept.
I was afraid you would change your mind and refuse to marry me. I should have told you. I wanted to, but I simply could not take the risk.
His words echoed in her mind no matter how hard Christina tried to shut them out. Yes, he had come to London for a reason. She could not fault him for that for he had proven himself to be a good man. He cared for others, and he was willing to go to great lengths to see them provided for, to see them treated justly. It was a noble ambition, and, yes, she had judged him wrongly.
Still, this realization walked hand-in-hand with another. She had fooled herself. Of course, she had not meant to do so. She had tried to be on her guard, to treat this union as a formal contract and nothing more. Most marriages, after all, were marriages of convenience. A contract beneficial to both parties. Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, Christina had allowed herself to care for him, to believe even that he might care for her.
Yes, they might suit each other. Their personalities fit, ensuring a pleasant union. He clearly found her appealing and enjoyed their teasing conversations as much as she did. But was that all?
For her, it went deeper.
To her great shame, it went far deeper.
For him, it did not. That much was clear now. Only moments ago, he had stated outright that he had been unwilling to risk losing her hand in marriage, to risk losing her father’s connections.
It was not her he wanted. After all, only a few weeks ago he had been set on marrying Sarah. He did not care whom he took as his wife as long as said wife came with an introduction into London society.
Perhaps—
Christina froze when the sound of the door opening slowly drifted to her ears. Her breath lodged in her throat before she quickly reached up to brush the tears from her eyes. Yet there was nothing she could do about her reddened cheeks. Anyone who would look upon her would know that she had been crying. But who had come? Was it a servant? Her husband would have surely said something by now.
Pinching her eyes shut, Christina imagined the humility of being discovered by a servant in her current state, seated upon the floor, hidden behind an armchair, her face tear-streaked and her eyes puffy.
“Mama?” A pause. “Chris-Christina?”
Christina almost flinched at the sound of Samantha’s voice. Yet it was the word she whispered that stole Christina’s breath. The girl could not possibly be addressing her, could she? But who else was there?
Soft footsteps drew closer, and when Christina turned her head and lifted her eyes, she found herself looking into a hopeful little face that broke her heart all over again.
Samantha’s green eyes reminded Christina of Thorne. Although she knew now that the girl was not his true daughter, Fate had seen it fit to strengthen their bond by such a resemblance.
The delicate smile that hung on her lips was full of longing. She looked down at Christina, waiting for her to…
…say something?
What was she to say? To a child she did not know? A child who had just now called her Mama? A child who was clearly in desperate need of a mother?
Yes, she was Thorne’s wife and the girl was his daughter in every way that mattered; but did that mean that Christina was now her mother?
She closed her eyes and pinched them shut. This was all too much. Too much had changed in one day. Too much she had been unable to prepare herself for. Too much—
A soft weight descended upon her shoulder, and Christina’s eyes flew open.
Samantha was kneeling beside her, her wide eyes watchful. “You look sad,” the girl remarked, such youthful innocence in her eyes that stirred a memory of days long gone within Christina.
Swallowing, she once again tried to brush the tears from her cheeks. “I…I am overwhelmed,” she told the child truthfully, unable to conjure a believable lie in that moment. Nor did she wish to. Too many lies had already been told.
“What does that mean?”
Christina exhaled a deep breath. No, she was definitely not ready to be a mother to a five-year-old girl. Yet it seemed that she did not have a choice. “It means that…that I do not know what I feel. A lot has happened, and I cannot seem to make sense of it.” She shook her head, and a scoff almost left her lips. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid that didn’t make it any clearer, did it?”
Seating herself next to Christina, Samantha crossed her legs under her skirts. “What has happened? Something bad?”
Christina folded her hands in her lap. “I had to say goodbye to my family,” she told Samantha after a short pause. That much, at least, was true for the thought of her parents and siblings still threatened to bring fresh tears to her eyes.
Samantha nodded knowingly. “I’m always sad when Papa travels without me. I miss him then. Will your family come to visit us?”
“I believe they would like that,” Christina replied, wondering if she even wanted them here now. They knew her too well and would instantly see what was going on. Although Grandma Edie was the one known to meddle in everyone’s affairs, Christina’s parents and siblings in truth were no better. They would all find reasons to get involved, thinking it their responsibility to see her happily settled.
Christina did not know if she was strong enough to bear a visit at this point. First, she needed to figure out how she felt about…all of this.
Samantha’s little face brightened. “I would like to meet them. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Christina nodded, relieved to have been asked such a simple question. “I have a brother and four sisters.”
The girl’s eyes widened in awe. “That is a lot. I don’t have any, but I always wanted to have a sister or even a brother. Perhaps now that you are here, I will.”
Such hope rang in her voice that Christina momentarily forgot to be shocked by her words. She was still trying to regain her composure and think of something to say when a shadow fell over them. She looked up and saw her husband standing there, that wickedly twinkling look in his eyes clearly stating that he, too, had heard Samantha’s heart-felt wish.
Christina wanted to sink into a hole in the ground.
“Here you are,” he exclaimed, feigning surprise as he smiled at his daughter. “I thought you were seeing to Biscuit? Are you already bored with him?”
Scrambling to her feet, Samantha shook her head. “No, of course not. I love him.” She glanced at Christina. “But I was curious. I couldn’t wait.” Her little teeth sank into her lower lip as she looked at Christina in a way that made her feel worse than she already did.
It made her feel like an imposter because Samantha was clearly considering her her new mother, and Christina could not have been any further from feeling like that herself.
“I understand,” Thorne replied, brushing a gentle hand over the girl’s head. “I believe he could do with a snack. Would you feed him? I’ve given Mrs. Huxley a few of the biscuits he is very fond of.”
Samantha’s face lit up, and she instantly darted away.
Withdrawing his eyes from his daughter, Thorne turned to Christina, then held out his hand offering to help her up.
With everything that had happened, Christina had completely forgotten that she was still sitting on the floor. A deep flush burned its way up her neck until it reached her cheeks, and although she accepted her husband’s hand, her eyes remained firmly upon something other than him.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and she could sense that he was trying to meet her gaze.
Swallowing, Christina lifted her chin and then looked at him, trying her best not to flinch, not to be affected by the way his eyes looked into hers. “I am as well as can be expected.”
He nodded. “May I show you to
your chamber?”
“I would appreciate that,” Christina replied, but then hesitated when he once more held out his arm to her. Her eyes rose to meet his; yet she did not know what she was looking for.
Thorne sighed, regret in his emerald eyes. “I wish we could go back to the way we were before.” He held her gaze, and Christina could see that he would not walk away. Not without an answer.
Finally, Christina nodded. “Perhaps that would be best,” she admitted, then accepted his arm. After all, what choice did she have? They were married. It was not something that could be undone. Her mother had warned her to choose wisely, and Christina thought that she had. Now, she was not so certain.
Only no regret would ever change what was, and so she would do well to make the best of things. Perhaps if she guarded her heart carefully, she could even find a little joy in this new life.
Chapter Thirty-One
The Dynamics of a Family
Awkward was the best word to describe the situation they suddenly found themselves in.
In all honesty, Thorne had not expected this. Admittedly, he had never once thought this far ahead. He had always worried about what Christina might do if he told her about Samantha before the marriage could take place. Yet the fool he was, he had never once considered what it might do to his marriage for her to find out after. Did she feel trapped? Did she have regrets?
Judging from the tense look upon her face these days, it was clear that she did. Thorne knew that some women could not accept another’s child in their home. It had been the very reason why he had remained silent for so long.
Since Christina barely spoke a word to him or Samantha, her eyes downcast and distant, his own relationship with Sam stood in even starker contrast. As Samantha had never been one shy for words, she happily prattled on as she always did. The two of them conversed easily, and it made Christina seem almost like an outsider, as though she did not belong.
