by Wolf, Bree
Through a side door, she slunk into the house and somehow found her way into the drawing room. There she sank into an armchair, exhausted. She drew in a couple of deep breaths before she surged to her feet once more and began to pace, unable to sit still, her mind too full of thoughts. “What am I to do?” she mumbled to herself, feeling torn in two separate directions.
Although Christina had failed to write to Sarah and inform her of her decision with regard to marrying Thorne beforehand, she had somehow found the nerve to write to her after. A few weeks ago, Christina had finally penned a letter explaining how everything had happened and apologizing profusely for robbing Sarah of a decent husband. She was uncertain what she expected or hoped for; however, Sarah had yet to respond.
So far there had been no letter from her friend.
Nothing.
“What am I to do?” Christina once again mumbled to herself. Without Sarah’s blessing, a dark cloud would forever be hanging over her marriage, over every moment. Despite Sarah’s words, Christina could not help but think that her friend might be heartbroken after all. Before, she had not known what a wonderful man Thorne was...not until Christina had told her so. Was it possible that Sarah was unwilling to grant her blessing? Was that why she had yet to reply?
If only Christina had never...come to care for her husband! If only!
“Why can he not be the man I thought him to be? Why can he not be a scoundrel and a rake and a reprobate? Why?” She shook her head. “It would make everything so much easier.” A frustrated growl rose from her throat. “Why do I have to like him?”
“Like him! Like him!” squawked Biscuit in the corner.
Christina flinched and spun around, staring at the bird. “What are you doing here?” she asked foolishly, cursing herself for not having noticed the bird’s presence before.
“Sam! Sam!” Biscuit replied as though answering her question of how he had come to be there.
Sighing deeply, Christina turned away and stepped up to the window, resting her forehead against the cool pane. “What am I to do?”
“You could tell me what is going on,” came Thorne’s voice from the door, and Christina whirled around.
Standing there, he looked at her for a moment longer before pushing the door shut. Then he came toward her. “What happened?” he asked, those green eyes of his searching her face as though hoping to read the answer to his question there somewhere. “Why did you run off?”
Backing away until the window stopped her retreat, Christina shook her head. She could not think. Her nerves were too frayed. She needed him to leave. “It is nothing,” she snapped, lifting her hand to stop him when he continued toward her. “Leave. I wish to be alone.”
Slowly, Thorne shook his head. “Talk to me, Chris. Whatever is on your mind, has been there for days, weeks even. Do you honestly think it will go away if you ignore it?”
Christina bit her lower lip, tempted to confess everything, yet equally determined to keep him at arm’s length.
“Like him! Like him!” Biscuit squawked.
Christina froze, feeling her eyes go wide as she stared at her husband, the bird’s words—her words!—echoing in her ears.
Thorne stilled, his eyes darting to the bird before returning to watch her most carefully. And then she could see understanding dawn. A smile began to tease his lips before he took another step toward her. “Is that what it is?” he asked. “Are you afraid to like me?”
Christina continued to stare at him unable to say anything.
“Why?”
Chapter Thirty-Five
A Heart Torn
“Why are you afraid to like me?” Thorne asked as he regarded his wife.
Pale and looking utterly forlorn, she stood by the window, her eyes wide, reminding him of a cornered animal, frightened and desperately looking for a way to escape.
For days now, he had watched her. He had seen the torn look in her eyes but had failed to understand what had put it there. At times, she had delighted in his presence while at others the look in her eyes had dimmed the moment he had approached. To him, it had seemed as though she had been unable to make up her mind about whether or not she wanted him near her. Could it be that, somehow, she did care for him after all, but felt as though it was wrong of her?
Frustrated by her silence, Thorne closed the distance between them, his hands reaching to grasp her by the shoulders. He lowered his head and looked down at her face. “Chris, please! Tell me what is going on?” He inhaled a slow breath, trying his best to remain calm. “I can see…that you like me.” She blinked, and her blue eyes rose to meet his. “I can feel that you like me. Why does that upset you so?”
An anguished look came to her eyes before she closed them and leaned forward to rest her forehead against his chest. “You’re a good man,” she mumbled, heaving a deep sigh.
Thorne continued to hold her by the shoulders, wondering if she would refuse him if he were to embrace her. “Is that bad?” he asked with a slight chuckle, seeking to lighten the mood.
With her forehead still resting against his chest, she nodded. “Yes, it’s bad. Unbelievably bad.”
Trying not to laugh, Thorne looked down at the top of her head. “All right,” he said carefully, wishing he knew what went on in her head. “Would you mind explaining your reasoning? For I must admit that I do not understand. From the first, you criticized me for not being a gentleman. Honestly, I would think that you would rejoice at finding me to be a decent man, at least.”
She continued to hide her face from him. “I stole her one chance for happiness,” she mumbled into the folds of his vest, a hint of anger and regret in her voice, a voice that rang with exhaustion more than anything else.
Thorne frowned. “You stole whose chance for happiness? What are you talking about?”
A soft growl rose in her throat, and then she suddenly pushed herself away from him and lifted her chin, her blue eyes flashing. “Sarah’s!”
“Miss…Miss Mortensen?”
Christina threw up her hands. “Yes, of course!”
For a long moment, Thorne looked at her and tried to see the many subtle emotions that danced over her face. There was more than anger and regret in her eyes. There was also warmth and hope; yet it shone like a light trying to fight its way through shadows, dim and hindered.
Biting her lower lip, Christina closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she seemed a bit calmer. “I misjudged you,” she finally said in a voice that held regret above all. “I thought you were a different man than you are. I thought…I thought you would harm her, make her unhappy. I thought she would not be safe with you.”
Thorne frowned, still uncertain what precisely she was upset about. After all, if he had truly married Miss Mortensen, they could never have been happy together. The thought was ludicrous!
“I should never have interfered,” Christina exclaimed on a sob. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears as she looked at him, slowly shaking her head from side to side. “If I had not misjudged you, if I had not thought her in danger, I would never have interfered. It was the greatest mistake I’ve ever made.”
Thorne tensed at her words. “You…You regret marrying me?”
Christina nodded her head vehemently. “Yes!” Tears streamed down her face. “You could have been her husband; she would’ve been safe with you. She could’ve been happy after everything her parents have done to her. She deserves to be happy.” Closing her eyes, Christina wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I thought I was helping, but I did not. I made things worse.”
Thorne felt himself relax when he finally began to understand why his wife was so deeply distraught. At first, he had thought his fears confirmed, that she never wanted to marry him, that she truly regretted having done so. Yet that was not it, was it?
Reaching out, Thorne grasped her hands. “Look at me, Chris.”
Blinking back the tears that lingered, Christina lifted her head. “I don’t want to like you,” she whispered
, a hint of accusation in her voice as she looked at him. “Why couldn’t you have been an awful sort of man?”
Thorne chuckled as his heart began to lighten. “I’m deeply sorry to disappoint you, my dear.” He pulled her closer, wishing to comfort her, but also wishing to hold her. Her eyes held such sadness that it broke his heart. “I like you as well,” he whispered, offering her a teasing smile.
Heaving a deep sigh, Christina tried to step out of his embrace. “That makes it worse.” Still, a spark of something warm and appealing came to her eyes as though his words had pleased her.
Thorne frowned. “How so?”
Christina shrugged. “I don’t know. But it does.” Again, she tried to step out of his embrace, but he would not release her.
“Would you stop trying to get away?” Thorne demanded, tightening his hold on her.
“Then simply release me!” Christina snapped, flattening her palms against his chest as she tried to push him away.
To no avail.
“Not until you’ve heard what I have to say.”
After another moment of futile struggling, she finally lifted her head and relented. “Very well. What do you have to say?”
Thorne inhaled a deep breath, hoping that what he had to say would not drive them further apart. An ordinary woman, he believed would look favorably upon the words he was about to speak; only Christina was far from an ordinary woman. “I would never have married your friend.”
Staring up at him, she stilled. “But you…?” She blinked. “Why would you say that? You were speaking to her father. You all but told me that you intended to marry her!”
Thorne nodded. “I did. I did think that a mutually beneficial union would see everyone satisfied.” He remembered well his rather innocent thoughts of marriage and all it might entail. Indeed, he had been foolish to believe that a marriage could ever be no more than a business arrangement. “I could see easily enough that she did not wish to marry me. I saw her pale face, and I saw her hands tremble. I am not an ogre. I would never have married a woman who looked at me and felt frightened.” He shook his head slowly to emphasize his words.
Christina frowned; the pulse in her neck seemed to beat more rapidly. “But you said…” She regarded him more closely, her eyes narrowing. “You baited me. You said what you said because you knew it would upset me. You wanted to upset me! It was a game, was it not?” Again, her palms shoved against his chest.
Again, Thorne did not release her. “Yes, it was a game,” he told her, lowering his head another fraction to look deeper into her eyes, “and I enjoyed playing it with you. Can you truly look at me and tell me that you did not?”
Christina’s lips pressed shut, but the glare in her eyes seemed to dim…at least a little. “The day of my sister’s wedding,” she began, her eyes sweeping over his face, “it was no accident that you came upon me in the library, was it?”
Thorne shook his head, wondering why she would ask him so again. “It was not.”
“Why? Why did you compromise me?”
Gritting his teeth, Thorne yanked her against him before his left hand traveled upward, traced the column of her neck and then slipped into her hair, cupping the back of her head. “Because I wanted you,” he whispered heatedly, his head bent so low that the tip of his nose almost touched hers. “From the moment I saw you, I knew that I wanted you. I also knew that you would never agree to marry me, not with the way you were looking at me, the way you lashed out at me.” His lips pressed into a thin line as he remembered the choice he had made a few weeks past. “Yes, I forced your hand, and I know I should not have.” He shook his head, looking down into her wide-open eyes. “Still, I cannot say that I regret what I did.”
Shocked speechless, Christina stared up at him, her breath coming fast. He could feel it tease his lips, tempting him, daring him to move closer still. The moment he dipped his head, though, she tensed and tried to pull away.
“You wanted me,” she whispered breathless, her eyes still as round as before, “because my father—”
A sharp knock sounded on the door, and rather belatedly Thorne realize that voices could be heard from the entrance hall.
Reluctantly, he released his wife and took a step back. “Enter.”
Reuben appeared and gave a quick bow. “Pardon me, Sir. You have visitors.”
Still holding his wife’s gaze, Thorne asked, “Who is it?”
“The Dowager Countess of Whickerton as well as Lady Juliet and Lady Harriet.”
Christina blinked and turned away from him toward the door. “They are here?” she asked, utter surprise in her voice.
Reuben nodded. “Shall I see them in?”
Before either of them could reply, footsteps echoed closer, and the dowager’s voice rang out loud and clear. “Oh, an old woman could die out here waiting for you to answer a simple question.” She burst into the room, cast a kind smile at a rather befuddled-looking Reuben and then despite leaning heavily upon her walking stick hastened toward Christina. “My dear, how good it is to see you. My, you look splendidly.” Yet Thorne could see her eyes narrowing as they swept over her granddaughter before moving to him.
“Welcome to Pinewood Manor, my lady,” Thorne greeted her before his gaze rose to fall upon her two granddaughters, stepping into the room behind her. “We are most delighted that you have decided to pay us a visit.”
The dowager chuckled. “Well, you are kind to say that.” Her gaze moved over Christina’s still red-rimmed eyes as well as the rapidly beating pulse in her neck before returning to meet Thorne’s eyes. “It seems we have interrupted a most significant moment.” Her brows rose in question.
Thorne swallowed, uncertain what to say. He turned to look at his wife, who in that moment stepped toward her grandmother and embraced her. “I’m so happy to see you, Grandma. It has been too long.”
Hugging her granddaughter close, the dowager patted her back. “It certainly has, my dear.” She pulled back and looked into her granddaughter’s face, a kind smile upon her lips. “Now, I’ve heard that there is a young girl here who is to be my great-granddaughter. I insist to meet her this instant.” Her smile brightened into something Thorne knew he would not forget for the rest of his life nor the words she had just said.
Deep down, he had always hoped to hear them.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Husband & Wife
Despite the precarious situation with her husband, Christina was relieved to see her grandmother. It was that way with grandparents and parents as well, was it not? They had a way of providing reassurance and comfort by simply being there, by offering a kind word and a soft smile. Nothing was resolved, and yet the world seemed a brighter place.
Casting a last look at her husband, Christina embraced her sisters and then escorted them all out into the garden where Samantha was picking flowers. The girl stared at them with wide eyes, then slowly moved closer, her gaze traveling from Grandma Edie to Juliet and Harriet. “Do we have visitors?” she asked, moving closer to Christina and taking her hand.
Christina smiled at her, but before she could reply, her grandmother stepped forward. “No, dearest, we’re not visitors. We are family.” Her eyes swept over Samantha, and Christina saw something deeply affectionate come to her grandmother’s eyes. “I’m Christina’s grandmother, did you know that?”
Samantha’s eyes widened, and she shook her head, clutching the flowers in her hands tighter.
Grandma Edie chuckled. “I’m an old woman, but the good thing is old women get to be grandmothers.” Her grin widened as she tried to lean down to Samantha as best as she could. “And now, I would also like to be a great-grandmother. Yours. Would that be all right?”
Samantha’s little eyes seemed to be growing wider with each word Grandma Edie spoke. “You wish to be my great-grandmother?” she asked with such hope and longing in her voice that Christina felt tears prick the backs of her eyes for the second time that day.
Grandma Edie nodded. “Of cours
e. If you agree, we shall be great-grandmother and great-granddaughter. Doesn’t that sound marvelous?” She clapped her hands together, almost dropping her walking stick in the process. “In fact, I am quite certain I have never heard anything quite so wonderful. Have you?”
An enchanted smile spread over Samantha’s face as she nodded her head. “You will be my great-grandma? Forever and ever?”
“Forever and ever. That is a promise.”
The smile upon Samantha’s face stretched so far that Christina feared the little girl’s cheeks might hurt. “Do I call you great-grandma?”
Grandma Edie frowned a little. “Well, you may, of course. However, it does sound like a mouthful, does it not? If you wish, simply call me Grandma Edie,” she glanced up at her granddaughters, “as Christina and your two new aunts do as well.”
Samantha stilled. “Two new aunts?”
Christina sighed as she watched Samantha meet her new family. They were all delighted to see her and before long hugs and flowers were exchanged. Harriet quickly had Samantha giggling, chasing her across the lawn, pretending to be a wolf or a lion wishing to devour her.
Watching them, Grandma Edie chuckled. “Who knew you’d be the first one of my granddaughters to be a mother?” She gently patted Christina’s hand.
“I’m not quite certain if I feel like a mother.”
Grandma Edie squeezed her arm. “Don’t worry. You will. You will.” She looked at Samantha, squealing with delight as Harriet caught up to her. “You’re already a natural at it. The child adores you and feels safe with you. That is all that matters.”
Juliet heaved a deep sigh, her eyes wistful as she watched Samantha. “She truly is priceless.”
Christina glanced at her oldest sister. More than once, she had found herself wondering why Juliet was not married. Somehow, her eldest sister seemed content being her grandmother’s companion; yet there were moments when she did seem wistful, a longing expression upon her face when she saw mothers with their children or wives with their husbands.
