Captive Bride by Johanna Lindsey
Christina heard Estelle’s happy voice coming from the hall downstairs.
“I was hoping you’d still be here, my sweet. You’ll make my stay here much more pleasant,” Philip’s deep voice answered cheerfully.
The tears came easily to Christina’s eyes as she walked slowly back to her room and closed the door behind her. She fell onto the bed and buried her face in the pillow.
She couldn’t bear to go downstairs and watch Philip flirting with Estelle. Why did he hate her so? Why couldn’t he still desire her? How could she bear seeing them together, when her own heart was breaking?
PHILIP STOOD IN the open doorway watching Christina sleep. He had watched her many times before, but then he could have made love to her, as he wanted to now. She was so beautiful, her golden hair spread across the pillow, a sweet, innocent look on her face. If only she cared for him, he would be the happiest man alive.
He wondered why Christina hadn’t come down to dinner the night before. He had been prepared to show her he could be as indifferent as she, and had planned to devote his attention to Estelle. He’d been disappointed by Christina’s absence. Estelle was a lovely girl, but she couldn’t compare to Christina—no one could compare to Christina. Why did she have to be such a deceitful bitch?
Philip Junior started crying, and Philip moved behind the door so he could observe Christina unseen when she came into the nursery. She walked into the room, and he was surprised to see her wearing the black robe she had made in Egypt. Why hadn’t she burned it? Apparently it carried no memories for her, as it did for him.
She went directly to the cradle, her long golden curls streaming down her back, and Philip Junior stopped crying as soon as he saw her.
“Good morning, my love, You let mommy sleep late this morning, didn’t you? You’re the joy of my life, Philip. What would I do without you?”
Philip was warmed by her love for the child. But it puzzled him why she’d named the boy after him.
Christina turned suddenly, sensing Philip’s presence in the room, but said nothing when she saw him standing beside the door. She turned back to Philip Junior, lifted him from the cradle, and sat down in a blue-cushioned rocker in the corner of the room. She slowly unbuttoned her night-dress.
Philip became irritated by her silence. He would rather she shout at him than ignore him.
“It didn’t take you long to lose your modesty again,” he remarked cruelly.
“You made your point yesterday, Philip. I have nothing to show you that you haven’t already seen,” Christina said calmly, giving him a half-smile that didn’t reach her remarkably blue eyes.
He laughed. He wouldn’t be able to make her lose her temper this morning. He watched his son suck greedly on Christina’s breast, and felt deeply moved by the sight. This was his child and the woman he still wanted. He refused to accept defeat. He would find a way to have them both.
“He has a strong appetite. You don’t need a wet nurse?” Philip asked.
“I have sufficient milk to satisfy his needs. Philip Junior is well cared for,” she said tensely.
Philip sighed heavily. It seemed he didn’t have to search to find a biting remark to make her angry—a simple question did the trick.
“I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re not a good mother. Indeed, motherhood seems to suit you, Christina. You’ve done exceedingly well with my son,” Philip said softly, lifting a stray lock of her hair that had fallen behind the chair, and rubbing it delicately between his fingers.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Where did you have him baptized?” Philip asked conversationally. He didn’t want to leave, and thought he should say something or he would make her nervous just standing behind her.
“He hasn’t been baptized yet,” Christina said.
“Good Lord, Christina! He should have been baptized one month after birth. What have you been waiting for?” he stormed, coming around the chair to face her.
“Damn it—stop yelling at me! I just didn’t think about it, that’s all. I’m not used to having children,” she replied just as angrily, her eyes turning a dark, sapphire blue.
With long strides, Philip reached the nursery door, but turned to face her again, his body stiff with rage.
“He will be baptized today—this morning! Prepare yourself and my son, and be ready to leave in an hour.”
“This is my home, Philip, not your camp in the mountains. You can’t tell me what to do here.”
“Be ready, or I will take him myself.” Then he turned and left the room.
Christina knew he meant every word. She calmed herself down and finished feeding Philip Junior, then she put him down in his bassinet and called one of the upstairs maids to help her get ready. She couldn’t trust Philip to take her son out alone—he might not come back.
She threw her robe onto the bed, and noticed that it was her black Arab one. She had unconsciously picked it up when Philip Junior started crying. Christina wondered if Philip had noticed. But no—he probably didn’t even remember it, or he would have made some sly remark.
Christina pinned her hair up into a mass of curls, then hurriedly chose a plain cotton lilac dress with long sleeves and a high-collared neck that would be appropriate for the occasion. With time to spare, she slowly dressed Philip Junior, and an hour later descended the stairs.
Philip was waiting alone and took his son from her arms.
“Where is John?” she asked nervously.
“He left early this morning to go into Halstead on business. He said he’d try to be back before noon,” Philip replied, and started for the door.
“But—we’re not going by ourselves—are we?”
“Oh, come now, Christina,” he laughed. “I will not kidnap you again if that’s what’s bothering you. Although the thought did cross my mind.”
Oh! How could he lie so easily, she thought angrily. “The next time you plan an abduction, Philip, your victim will probably be Estelle!” Christina snapped.
“Why—Christina, you actually sound jealous,” he teased.
“I am not jealous!” she said curtly. “I’m thankful that your attentions have gone elsewhere.”
It didn’t take them long to arrive at the small church near Wakefield. Christina waited in the open carriage while Philip went into the church to find out if the priest was available. He came back soon and helped her down from the carriage.
“Is everything arranged?” she asked as he took Philip Junior from her again.
“Yes. It will only take a minute,” he replied, and escorted her into the small, gloomy church.
A short, ruddy man waited for them at the end of the aisle, and Philip handed the boy to him. Philip Junior didn’t cry when the water was dribbled on his forehead, but Christina gasped when she heard the clear words echoing in the dark room.
“I baptize thee—Philip Caxton, Junior.”
Philip took his son back and grasped Christina’s arm to lead her from the church. She said nothing until they were in the carriage and the driver had started back to Wakefield Manor.
“You had no right to do that, Philip!” she snapped, glowering at him.
“I had every right—I am his father,” Philip grinned.
“You are not his legal father—no vows were spoken between us. Damn it! His name is Philip Junior Wakefield, as it appears on his birth record.”
“That can be changed very easily, Christina.”
“You’d have to find the original document first. He is my son, and he will carry my name, not yours!”
“And when you marry, do you intend giving him your husband’s name?”
“I haven’t really thought about it, but if Tommy wants to adopt him, then yes he will carry his name.”
“I will not have that young fop raising my son,” Philip scowled at her.
“You will have nothing to say in the matter, Philip. Besides, Tommy will make a good father.” But she didn’t really believe her own words.
&n
John met them at the door, his face a mask of anger. “Where the hell have you been! I’ve been worried sick!”
“We had Philip Junior baptized, John. There was nothing to be upset about.” Christina replied. She looked quizzically at Philip, who had started laughing.
“Why didn’t you tell someone where you were going? When I came home and found both of you gone, including the baby, I thought—”
“We know what you thought, John,” she laughed. “But, as you can see, you were wrong. I’m sorry you were upset—it won’t happen again.”
Christina went upstairs to put Philip Junior down for a nap. After changing him, she closed the nursery doors so he wouldn’t be disturbed, then went into her own room to remove her bonnet. Through her open door, Christina heard Philip going into his room. His voice drifted clearly to her, causing her to stand motionless.
“What are you doing in here? Your sister would have a fit if she found you in a gentleman’s bedroom.”
“Don’t look so shocked, Philip. You must be used to entertaining ladies in your bedroom,” Estelle said sweetly. “I’ve been waiting here so I could talk to you alone. Why don’t you close the door and come over here where it’s much more comfortable.”
“That won’t be necessary—you won’t be here that long. I have no intention of being asked to leave this house simply because you wish to play games, Estelle.”
Christina didn’t want to listen to any more, but she couldn’t help herself.
“I am not playing games, Philip Caxton! I came here for an answer. Do you still love Christina? I have a right to know!”
“Love! What has love to do with it? I desired her then, just as I desire you now,” Philip said, with very little emotion in his deep voice.
“Then she doesn’t mean anything to you now?” Estelle asked.
“Christina is the mother of my son—that’s all. Now I must ask you to leave, Estelle, before someone finds you here. The next time you wish to talk to me privately, find a more suitable place.”
“Anything you say, Philip,” Estelle giggled, obviously pleased with herself. “Will I see you for lunch?”
“I’ll be down shortly.”
Christina sat down on the edge of her bed feeling as if a knife had been plunged into her heart. She had been famished, but now all thoughts of food vanished. She had to get away!
She tore off her dress, put on her riding habit, and ran down the stairs and out of the house.
Christina had a stableboy saddle Dax while she waited impatiently. Then she took off down the path leading to the open fields, and the tears finally came.
The wind pushed the salty drops to the sides of her eyes as Christina urged Dax faster and faster. The pins fell from her hair and it tumbled down her back, streaming in the wind behind her. She wanted to end it all, but remembered Philip Junior. She couldn’t leave her baby. She had to face the fact that she still loved Philip but she would never have him again. She would just have to accept it and take what joy she could in her son. Tommy loved her, and perhaps someday she could feel content with him.
It had been dark for two hours when Christina finally came in the front door and leaned back against it, exhausted. Philip came out of the drawing room, an angry, concerned expression on his face, but he relaxed and grinned when he saw her. John and Kareen were right behind him, Kareen worried and John filled with rage.
“Where the hell have you been, Christina?” John fumed. “This makes twice in the same day you’ve gone off without a word. What’s gotten into you?”
“Is Philip Junior all right?” Christina asked.
“He’s fine. Johnsy had to send for a wet nurse when you didn’t come back. He was a bit fretful, but he’s sleeping now. Crissy, are you hurt?” John asked. “You look as if you’ve taken a fall.”
Christina looked down at herself. She was a mess. Her hair was in tangles, falling over her shoulders and down to her waist. Her dark-green velvet riding habit was torn in many places from riding wildly through the woods.
She pushed herself away from the door and straightened her back proudly.
“I’m fine, John. Just tired and hungry.”
She started to walk away, but John pulled her back. “Just a minute, young lady. You haven’t answered my questions. Where have you been all this time? The whole household has been out searching for you.”
Christina glanced at Philip’s amused expression and became angry. “Damn it! I’m not a child anymore, John—I can take care of myself! Just because I go off by myself for a few hours is no reason for you to send out a search party.”
“A few hours! You’ve been gone all day.”
“I’ve been riding—that’s all! And you of all people should understand why!”
John knew why. It seemed Philip’s presence in this house troubled Christina more than he had thought it would.
“Crissy, I want to talk you—privately,” John said.
“Not tonight, John—I told you, I’m tired.”
He walked with her toward the stairs and out of the others’ hearing. “Crissy, if Philip is upsetting you this much, then I’ll ask him to leave.”
“No!” she shouted, then said more softly, “I don’t want him to leave, John. I can’t deny him the right to be with his son. I’ve come to terms with myself—I’ll be able to handle his presence from now on.” She hoped she was telling the truth.
John walked solemnly back to Kareen after Christina went upstairs.
“I’ll have someone take a tray of food to her room, and hot water for a bath,” Kareen said, looking worriedly at her husband. “Did you find out what made her go off this afternoon?”
“I know why,” John replied, giving Philip a disapproving glance. “But I don’t know what to do about it.”
IT WAS THE fifth day of the new year, 1885. The last seven days had been filled with tension for everyone at Wakefield Manor, but for Christina most of all. Estelle snubbed her rudely whenever they met, while Philip looked on with an amused smile. But the supper table every evening was the worst time to endure. Poor John and Kareen sat at the head and foot, waiting nervously for an explosion. Christina and Tommy sat on one side of the table, Tommy glowering at Philip. And Philip and Estelle sat on the other side, Estelle openly showing contempt for Christina. They were sitting on a powder keg.
Philip had changed since Christina’s disappearance a week ago. He no longer bantered with her, but treated her coldly and politely. He never mentioned the past, which unnerved Christina, for she was continually waiting for some biting remark that didn’t come.
She tried to avoid being alone with Philip, but was always left alone with him in the nursery. Christina insisted that Johnsy stay with her, but as soon as Philip walked into the nursery, Johnsy would make some lame excuse and depart quickly.
However, Philip seemed interested only in his son, and he kept his distance from Christina. He watched her bathe Philip Junior, or played with him on the soft, carpeted floor. But whenever it was time for his feeding, Philip left tactfully. And that completely baffled her.
Tommy had become the worst of her problems. He had grown very demanding since Philip’s arrival. He constantly pressed Christina to set a date for their marriage, although so far she had avoided doing so.
But today, Christina had finally found something to rejoice about.
Kareen came into the dining room while Christina was eating a late lunch.
“Estelle has finally decided to go home—she’s upstairs packing right now,” she said.
Christina said nothing, although she felt like jumping for joy.
“Even though she is my sister and I love her dearly,” Kareen continued, “I don’t mind admitting I’m glad she’s leaving. But it puzzles me why—and she won’t tell me. Only yesterday I tried to talk her into leaving, and she was flatly against it. Then she went riding with Ph
Neither did Christina. But it didn’t matter why Estelle was leaving—so long as she left. Now Christina wouldn’t have to suffer seeing another woman clinging to Philip’s side. But Philip might leave now that Estelle was going Suddenly Christina didn’t feel quite so happy.
With his hands clasped behind his head, Philip reclined on the big brass bed listening intently to the sounds coming from the room next to his. He glanced at the antique clock on the mantel above the fireplace. Five minutes to ten—he wouldn’t have much longer to wait.
Philip grimaced when he recalled what had happened that morning. He had tired of the game he was playing with Christina and Estelle, and had been trying to think of a way to end it. Estelle’s boldness had provided the solution to his problem.
Estelle had cornered him after breakfast and asked him to take her riding. Philip saw no reason not to, since Christina was upstairs feeding Philip Junior. But after they had ridden some distance from the house, Estelle had dismounted under a large oak tree. She had sat down under the tree and taken off her riding hat, shaking her thick black hair loose, and beckoned to Philip seductively.
“Estelle, get back on your horse. I have no time for playing games,” he had said harshly.
“Games!” Estelle had cried. She had scrambled to her feet and faced him, her arms akimbo. “Do you intend to marry me or not?”
Philip had been surprised, but had seen the answer to his problem. He could end it all by saying no.
“I have no intention of marrying you, Estelle, and I’m sorry if I’ve led you to believe I would.”
“But you said you desired me!” she had retorted angrily.
“I had a selfish reason for telling you that. Besides, it was what you wanted to hear. There’s only one woman I will ever desire or want to marry.”
“And she’s engaged to someone else,” Estelle had laughed bitterly. She had thrown herself onto her horse and galloped off toward Wakefield Manor.