Captive Bride (26 page)

And then, two days after Christmas, John brought Kareen home. They arrived early in the morning, and Christina was still sleeping when Johnsy rushed into her room. She had only enough time to slip into her robe before John and Kareen walked in. Christina ran to them and hugged and kissed them both.

"I'm so happy for you, and so glad that you're finally homel" Christina exclaimed, tears of joy welling in her soft blue eyes.

"I'll never leave Wakefield again," John laughed, hugging Christina close to him. "I can assure you of that. But where's that nephew of mine?"

"Right in 'ere, Master John," Johnsy answered proudly, opening the door between the two rooms.

Philip Junior was wide awake, a foot in each hand, when they all gathered around the bassinet.

"Oh, he's beautiful, Christina, absolutely adorable!" Kareen exclaimed. "Can I hold him—would you mind?"

"Of course you may—Philip Junior loves to be cuddled," Christina answered.

"Philip Junior?" John lifted an eyebrow. "I had thought you would name him after our father, or his own father."

"The name just struck my fancy. I couldn't see calUng an Englishman Abu."

"Nor could I," John laughed. He grasped Philip Junior's little hand as he lay in Kareen's arms. "He's as strong as an ox. But where did he get those unusual eyes, Crissy? We have no green eyes in our family, and I've never seen an Arab with eyes like that."

"You ask such ludicrous questions, John. How would I know?"

He started to say more, but stopped when he caught Kareen's disapproving look.

"It's time for this little one to be fed. You get yourself out of 'ere, Master John," Johnsy chuckled.

John actually blushed at die thought of his sister's putting the baby to her breast. "Come downstairs when you're through, Crissy. Estelle is with us, and we can all have breakfast together."

Christina was glad to hear that Estelle had come with them. Estelle was a beautiful girl, and perhaps Tommy would be attracted to her.

Awhile later, Christina put Philip Junior down for a nap and joined the others in the dining room.

"It's so good to see you again, Estelle," Christina said, embracing the other girl. "I hope you intend to stay with us. We have more than enough room in this big house."

"For a while, but then I must visit my parents."

"Did you enjoy your journey?" Christina asked.

"Oh—it was the most wonderful time of my life!" Estelle said exuberantly.

"I'm afraid Estelle has fallen hopelessly in love with one of the passengers we sailed with—a friend of John's," Kareen said.

"He's the handsomest man I have ever laid eyes on, and I know he feels the same way about me," Estelle replied happily.

"You take too much for granted, Estelle," said Kareen. "Just because he paid you some attention doesn't mean he loves you."

"He does, tool" Estelle cried. "And we'll meet again, even if I have to go to London. I intend to marry Philip Caxton!"

They all jumped at the crash of dishes in the kitchen, and Christina knew that Johnsy had been listening to the conversation. Philip had come back, and he was in London! A wave of jealousy swept over Christina when she thought of Estelle with him on board ship.

Why had he come back? And why had he left Nura? Perhaps he had tired of her, too, and now Estelle was his new plaything. Was there no end to the women he would captivate?

"Crissy, you remember Philip Caxton, don't you?" John asked, unaware of the emotions she was fighting to control.

"You've met him, Christina?" said Estelle. "Then you must know how I—"

Johnsy came into the room, pale as a ghost, and said, Tm sorry about the dishes—they slipped. Miss Crissy, could you 'elp me to my room? I don't feel too well."

"Of course, Jobnsy," Christina answered gratefully, going to her and pretending to help her out of the room.

When they were out of hearing distance, Johnsy said, "Oh, baby, I'm sorry. You must be miserable. That scoundrel's back in England, and what are you goin' to do?"

"I'm not going to do anything, Johnsy. He won't come here, and I'm not going anywhere that I might run into him. And I am not miserable—I'm angry! That man is despicable. He has to destroy every pretty woman he meets!"

"It sounds to me like you're jealous, love," Johnsy remarked.

"I am not jealous," she scoffed. "I'm mad. I didn't blame him for what he did to me, but I should have. He has probably broken Nura's heart, and he'll do the same to Estelle. Estelle doesn't even know he's married!"

"Nor do you, Miss Crissy. You don't know for sure that 'e married that other girl. 'E may 'ave kept her as 'is mistress, as 'e did you."

"He wouldn't dare! Her family wouldn't have allowed it"

"Well, you still don't know for sure."

Tommy came for dinner that night, but he didn't pay any attention to Estelle, nor she to him. After dinner, Christina found a moment alone with John and asked him to help in dealing with Tommy. She explained that Tommy had bothered her ever since her return and she didn't know what to do.

"Can't you talk to him, John? Tell him to stop asking me to marry him?"

"But I don't see why you won't marry him, Crissy. He loves you. He would make you a very good husband. And he would be a father to your child. You can't go on living with memories, and I'm sure, in time, you could learn to love Tommy."

Christina was surprised for a moment But then she realized her brother might be right. There was no longer any reason why she shouldn't marry Tommy.

Chapter 29

lljjHILIP pounded heavily on the single door. It was II opened by a dour-looking manservant. "Mr. Caxton, sir, 'tis good to see you again. Mr. Paul will be delighted."

"Where is that brother of mine?" Philip asked, handing over his greatcoat.

"In his study, Mr. Caxton. Shall I announce your arrival?"

"That won't be necessary," Philip replied, and walked down the short hallway until he came to the open door of Paul's study. "I can come another time if you are busy, little brother," Philip said mischievously.

Paul looked up from his papers and rose quickly, a bright grin on his handsome features.

"Damn, but it's good to see you again, Philip! When did you get back?" Paul came over and embraced his brother warmly.

"I only just arrived," Philip answered. He sat down in a large leather chair by the window.

"I wrote you a letter not too long ago, but apparently you sailed before it had a chance to reach you. Well, no matter—now that you're here. This calls for a drink," Paul said, walking to the small cabinet where he kept a decanter of brandy and a supply of glasses. "And congratulations are in order."

"I hardly think my coming home merits congratulations," Philip remarked dryly.

"I agree. Your coming home merely calls for a drink, but you deserve congratulations because I've seen your son, and he's a fine, healthy fellow. Looks just like you," Paul said cheerfully, handing Philip a drink.

"What the hell are you talking about, Paul? I have no son!"

"But I—I thought you knew! Isn't that why you came back to England—to find your child?" Paul asked.

"You're talking in riddles, Paul. I've already told you I don't have a son!" Philip returned. He was getting irritated.

"Then you're not going to claim him? You're just going to deny that he exists—pretend it never happened?"

"There is no son to claim—how many times must I say it! Now you had better come up with a good explanation, little brother. You are trying my patience sorely!" Philip stormed.

Paul burst out laughing and sank into a chair across from Philip. "I'll be damned. She didn't tell you, did she? You really don't know?"

"No, she didn't tell me, and who the hell is she?"

"Christina Wakefleld! Whom else have you lived with this past year?"

Shocked, Philip sank back into his chair.

"She bore a son three months ago at Victory. I naturally assumed you knew about it, since she went to your home to have the baby. I happened to go there and ran into her just as she was leaving to go back to her home. She seemed angry that I had learned about the baby. And she told me what you had done—how you kidnapped her and held her captive four months. How the hell could you do such a thing, Philip?"

"It was the only way I could have her. But why didn't she come back and tell me?" Philip said, more to himself than to Paul.

"She said you didn't want the child—that you didn't want to marry her."

"But I never told her—" He stopped when he remembered that he had told her just that. He'd said he hadn't brought her to his camp to bear bis children, and he'd told her in the beginning that he had no intention of marrying her.

"Just because the child looks like me doesn't prove he is mine. Christina could have conceived after she went back to her brother."

"Use your brain, Philip, and calculate the time. You took her when she first arrived in Cairo—in September, did you not?"

"Yes."

"Well, you kept her four months, she left you at the end of January, and she gave birth eight months later, at the end of September. So she had to conceive with you. And besides, Christina as much as told me the child was yours. Her exact words were, 'I gave birth to the son that Philip doesn't want,' and I might add that she intends to keep him and raise him herself."

"I have a son!" Philip exclaimed, slamming his fist down on the arm of the chair, his laughter ringing through the room. "I've got a son, Paul—a son! You say he looks like me?"

"He has your eyes and hair—he's a handsome boy. You couldn't ask for better."

"A son. And she wasn't even going to tell me. I will need one of your horses, PauL I'll be leaving first thing in the morning."

"You're going to Halstead?"

"Of course! I want my son. Christina will have to marry me now."

"If you didn't know of the child, why did you come back to England?" Paul asked while he refilled their glasses. "Did you come back for Christina?"

"I still want her, but I didn't come back to find her. I came back because there was nothing left for me in Egypt. Yasir is dead."

"I'm sorry, Philip. I never really knew Yasir or thought of him as my father. But I know you loved him. You must have taken it badly."

"I did, but Christina helped me through it."

"I wish I knew what happened between Christina and you," said Paul.

"Perhaps someday I will tell you, little brother, but not now. I'm not really sure what happened, myself."

Philip left at dawn the following morning, and had a chance to think things out while riding through the countryside.

Why hadn't Christina come back and told him when she learned she was carrying his child? Had she been too proud? And what of John? She must not have told her brother, or John would have called him out when they met in Cairo.

Well, John would soon know the truth. Philip wondered how he would take the news, for they had become good friends during their journey back to England. He also wondered how Christina would react when he showed up unexpectedly. She obviously hadn't wanted him to learn of his son. Or had she? Had she gone to Victory so that he would find out?

She was going to keep and raise the child. If she hated him, why keep his son to constantly remind her of him? Perhaps she actually cared for him!

If only he had told her he loved her. If only he hadn't waited to hear her say it first. Well, he would tell her this time, just as soon as he saw her.

Chapter 30

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The house was quiet. Christina reclined in the drawing room trying to read a book so she could stop thinking about Estelle and Philip. But she kept imagining them together, kissing and holding each other. Damn him!

"Christina, I have to talk to you." It was Tommy Hun-tington.

She stood up and walked over to the fireplace, her red-velvet skirt swaying gently.

"I didn't expect to see you until tonight, Tommy. What's so important that you're here early?" Christina asked. She turned her back to him and busied herself rearranging the figurines on the mantel.

"I talked with John this morning. He agrees we should marry. You can't deny me any longer, Christina. I love you. Will you please marry me?"

Christina sighed heavily. Her answer was going to make everyone happy, everyone but herself. Even Johnsy had been arguing that marriages were made for convenience, not for love, and that it was enough that Master Tommy loved her.

"All right, Tommy, I will marry you. But I can't guarantee to ever—"

She was going to say "love you," but the sound of a deep voice stopped her. She turned deathly pale.

"I have been informed that I have a son, madam. Is this true?"

Tommy grasped Christina's arms violently, but she was too shocked to feel anything. Tommy released her and swung around to face the intruder, leaving her holding the mantel for support. Her legs felt like jelly beneath her.

"Who are you, sir," Tommy demanded, "and what is the meaning of asking my fiancee if you have a son?"

"I am Philip Caxton. Miss Wakefield may be your intended wife, but this matter does not concern you. I am addressing Christina. And I am waiting for an answer."

"How dare you!" Tommy raged. "Christina, do you know this man?"

Christina's mind was hi a whirl of confusion. She turned slowly to face Philip, and melted at the sight of him. He hadn't changed—he was still the man she loved. She wanted to run to him. She wanted to throw her arms about his neck and never let go. But the ugly hate in his eyes and the harsh coldness in his voice stopped her.

"Do I have a son, madam?"

Christina stiffened with fear at the menace in his voice.

But then her anger grew. How could he ask about her child so coldly?

"No, Mr. Caxton," she said "I have a son—you do not!"