Read Captive Bride Page 17


  “What would you like me to do with this, sir—throw it away?” Mrs. Greene asked, holding up Christina’s dirt-stained robe.

  John looked up at the matronly Mrs. Greene standing in the doorway. “Just put it aside for now. The decision is Christina’s.”

  John wanted to get Christina back to England as soon as possible. Egypt had caused them both nothing but suffering, but now that Crissy was back, they would be happy again.

  Why, he wondered, had Christina left the man she claimed she loved? She’d written she would stay with him until he no longer wanted her. Was that it? The bastard had abducted her, used her, and then discarded her to collect the reward money. Crissy had said she loved him. How she must be suffering!

  Draining the last of his whiskey, John got up and crossed through the small dining room and into the equally small kitchen. He found Mrs. Greene standing over the stove.

  “I’m going to leave for about an hour, Mrs. Greene,” he said. “My sister shouldn’t wake up. But if she does, tell her I had to break an appointment but will be back shortly. And give her anything she wants.”

  “But what about your lunch?”

  “I’ll eat when I get back,” John said, picking up an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter. “I won’t be long.”

  It was a short distance to Major Hendricks’s quarters, and John hoped to find Kareen at home, for he wanted to break their evening’s engagement personally.

  Kareen was a year younger than he, and was visiting her uncle, Major Hendricks, for a short while. Her home was in England, and her mother was part Spanish. But he knew nothing more about her, except that she attracted him greatly.

  Kareen looked Spanish, with her silky black hair and black eyes. Her body was slim, yet perfectly rounded in all the right places. John had looked forward to this evening, but now he had to call it off. He hoped Kareen would understand.

  John knocked on the door to Major Hendricks’s modest apartment. After a few moments, it opened to reveal a young girl smiling cheerfully at him. John was shocked, for this girl looked only sixteen or seventeen, and yet….

  “Kareen?”

  The young girl laughed at John’s confusion.

  “It happens all the time, Lieutenant. I’m Kareen’s sister, Estelle. Won’t you come in?”

  “I didn’t know she had a sister,” John said as he stepped into the hallway. “You look so much alike.”

  “I know—like twins. But Kareen is five years older than I am. My father always says that Kareen and I are the exact images of our mother when she was young. Our mother is still a beautiful woman, so it’s nice knowing what we will look like in the future.” She laughed sweetly, giving John a beguiling smile. “Forgive me. Everybody says I talk too much. Did you wish to see Kareen, Lieutenant—?”

  “John Wakefield,” he volunteered with a short bow. “And yes, I would like to speak with her if it’s possible.”

  “I think it could be arranged. She’s in her room resting. It’s this hot weather. We’re not used to it yet—it certainly can wear a body out. So you’re John Wakefield,” she said, looking him over from head to foot. “Kareen sure has talked a lot about you, and I can see that she wasn’t exaggerating, either.”

  “You certainly are outspoken, Miss Estelle.”

  “Well, I believe a body ought to say what they think.”

  “That can get you into trouble sometimes,” John said lightly.

  “Yes, I know. But I like to shock people. I can’t say I shocked you, though. You must be used to compliments from the ladies,” she went on mischievously.

  “Not exactly. I’m used to giving them—not receiving them.” John laughed.

  “Spoken like a true gentleman. But you’ve let me ramble on again. If you will wait in the drawing room, I’ll go and tell Kareen you’re here.”

  “Thank you, and it has been a delight meeting you, Miss Estelle.”

  “I can definitely say the same about you, Lieutenant Wakefield. But we’ll meet again, I’m sure,” she added, and disappeared down the hallway.

  After a few minutes, Kareen appeared in the doorway looking as beautiful as he last remembered.

  “I thought my sister was playing a joke on me when she said you were here,” she said. “She does that occasionally. But why are you here so early, Lieutenant Wakefield?”

  “Kareen—I know this is only our second meeting, but won’t you please call me John?” he asked, putting all his boyish charm into his request.

  “All right, John,” she smiled. “But what brings you here?”

  “I don’t exactly know how to tell you this,” John said, turning away from her inquiring eyes. He walked over to the open window and stood looking out, his hands clasped behind his back. “You’ve been here only a month, Kareen, but you know about my sister’s disappearance?”

  “Yes, my uncle told me about it when I mentioned I’d met you,” she replied.

  “Christina was kidnapped right from her room the very first night we were in Cairo. Christina and I were very close. I searched everywhere for her and practically went out of my mind with worry. But she was returned to me today—this morning.”

  “John—that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you. Is she all right?”

  He turned to face her, and could see that she was really pleased for him.

  “She’s fine, but I haven’t had a chance to talk with her yet. She rode for nearly a week and is sleeping now. I wanted to tell you first so you’d understand why I can’t escort you to the opera tonight. I have to be there when Crissy wakes up.”

  “Of course I understand, and I thank you for explaining it to me. Can I do anything to help?”

  “It’s kind of you to ask, Kareen. Perhaps in a few days you could call on her. I don’t know how easily she will adjust to being home again. I only pray that she will be able to forget her terrible experiences.”

  “I’m sure she will be all right in time, John,” Kareen replied.

  “I hope so.”

  Christina had been asleep for twelve hours. It was nearly midnight, and John continued to pace the drawing room impatiently. There were so many things he had to know. He didn’t want to pounce on her the minute she awoke, but he had to have some answers. Would Crissy be the same person, or had these last four months changed her?

  John went to her door and opened it quietly. But Crissy was still curled on her side, her head resting on one hand. He walked into the room slowly and stood beside the bed gazing down at her as he had done so many times this evening.

  She hadn’t lost any weight and looked healthy, though dirty. She wore a skirt and blouse in the style of the desert people. But it was made of fine green velvet with spangled lace adorning the edges. She looked like an Arab princess.

  She had said in her letter that she wanted for nothing. The man must have taken good care of her. And that just made it more puzzling, because John wondered how any man, once having her, could let her go. Christina had such unusual beauty. Something about her was different—stunning and yet indescribable—something that set her apart from all other women who were called beautiful.

  Suddenly Christina opened her eyes and blinked a few times, obviously wondering where she was.

  “It’s all right, Crissy,” John said. He sat down on the side of the bed. “You are home now.”

  She looked at him, her eyes filling with tears, and the next moment she was clinging to him as if her life depended on it.

  “John! Oh, Johnny—hold me. Tell me it was just a dream—that it never happened,” she sobbed.

  “I’m sorry, Crissy, but I can’t tell you that—I wish I could,” he said, holding her tightly against him. “But it will be all right—you’ll see.”

  He let her cry herself out without saying more. When she was finished, he held her away from him and pushed back her hair from her wet cheeks.

  “Feel better now?”

  “Not really.” She smiled weakly.

  “Why don’t you wash yo
ur face while I get you something to eat, and then we can talk.”

  “What I’d really like is to soak in a hot bath for hours. I’ve had nothing but cold baths for the last four months.”

  “That will have to wait until later. We’ve got to talk first.”

  “Oh, John, I don’t want to talk about it—I just want to forget.”

  “I understand that, Crissy. But there are things I have to know. It would be better if we talked now, and then we can both forget it.”

  “Very well, I suppose you’re right.” She got off the bed and looked about the room. “Give me a minute to—”

  She stopped abruptly when she saw the crumpled piece of paper that John had thrown on the table earlier.

  “How did that get here?” Her voice held a note of anger.

  “What’s the matter with you, Crissy? I took it out of your hand before putting you to bed.”

  “But I thought I had thrown—” She turned quickly to face him, frowning. “Did you read it?”

  “No. Why are you so upset?”

  “It’s my dismissal, you might say,” she said lightly, only her eyes were stormy. “But it doesn’t matter. How about that food?”

  After supper, John poured two glasses of sherry and brought one to Christina in the dining room. He sat across from her with his legs sprawled beneath the table, and studied her face.

  “Do you still love him?” John asked.

  “No—I hate him now!” she said quickly, staring down at the glass she held before her.

  “But only a month ago—”

  She looked up at him, her eyes flashing dangerously. “That was before I found out what a cruel and selfish man he is.”

  “Is that why you left him?”

  “Left him? He sent me away! He left me that note saying that he no longer desired me and he wanted me gone before he returned. He couldn’t even tell me in person.”

  “Is that why you hate him now—because he sent you away?”

  “Yes! He cared nothing for me or for my feelings. I thought I loved him, and hoped he would come to love me. But now I know how foolish I was. He didn’t even care that I might be carrying his child!”

  “Oh, God, Crissy—then he raped you!”

  “Raped? No—he never actually raped me. I was sure I made it clear to you, John, in the letter I sent you. I thought you would understand that I gave myself to him. That’s why I asked your forgiveness.”

  “I guess I haven’t been able to accept it. I didn’t want to believe it. But Crissy, if he didn’t rape you—you can’t mean that you gave in to him from the beginning?”

  “I fought him!” she cried indignantly, trying to defend herself. “I fought him with all the strength I had.”

  “Then he did rape you?”

  Christina hung her head in shame. “No, John, he never had to rape me. He had patience—he took his time and slowly brought my body to life. Please understand this, John—I hated him, but at the same time I wanted him. He stirred fires in me that I never knew existed. He made me a woman.”

  She started crying again. John felt miserable for blaming her for something that she couldn’t help. But why did she defend the bastard?

  John leaned across the table and lifted her face to look into her soft blue eyes.

  “It’s all right. It wasn’t your fault. It was the same thing as if he’d raped you.”

  “I fought him, but it was the same way every time. I tried to escape, but he threatened to find me and beat me if I did it again. I was deathly afraid of him at first, but as time passed, I feared him less. I even stabbed him once, and yet he did nothing. And then another tribe stole me, and he almost died getting me back. I realized then that I was in love with him. I didn’t fight him after that, John. I couldn’t fight the man I loved. If you can’t forgive me for that, I’m sorry.”

  “I forgive you, Crissy. There are no rules in love. But you said you hate him now. Why do you keep defending him?”

  “I’m not defending him!”

  “Then tell me his name so I can track him down. He deserves punishment for what he did to you.”

  “His people called him Abu.”

  “And his last name?”

  “Oh, John—it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to see him punished.”

  “Damn it, Crissy!” John yelled, slamming his fist down on the table. “He used you and then sent you back to me for the reward.”

  “Reward?”

  “Yes. The man who brought you here asked for the money, so I gave it to him.”

  Christina slumped back in her chair, a slight grin on her lips.

  “I might have known Rashid would do that. He takes money wherever he can find it. Abu will probably never know Rashid took the reward. And that’s not why Phi—why Abu sent me back. He is sheik of his tribe, he has no need of money. He even turned down a sack full of jewels once.”

  “You started to call him something else,” John said, raising one eyebrow.

  “Well—he has another name, but it’s not important.” She stood up and finished the last of her sherry. “Can we forget about it now, John? I want to put him from my mind forever.”

  “Can you do that, Crissy?” He looked at her skeptically. “You still love him, don’t you?”

  “No!” she wailed, but then she bit her lip and the tears welled in her eyes again. “Oh, God—yes! I can’t help it. Why did he have to do this to me, John? I love him so—I want to die!”

  John held her close, feeling her pain. He couldn’t stand to see her hurting like this—tearing her heart out over a man who didn’t deserve her love.

  “It will take time, Crissy, but you will forget him. You’ll find a new love—someone who will give you the kind of life you deserve.”

  TWO MONTHS HAD passed since Philip sent her away. Christina tried desperately to put him out of her mind. But she thought about him constantly. She prayed each day that he would change his mind and come for her. But he didn’t come. She couldn’t sleep. She lay awake every night wanting him, craving his hands on her, missing his body next to hers in bed.

  Christina had seen no one since returning, except Kareen. She liked Kareen. She liked Kareen instantly the first time that John brought her to their small rooms. Kareen asked no questions of her, and soon they became good friends. Christina knew Kareen was in love with John, and she was glad John loved her in return. They spent many days together, and finally Christina confided everything to Kareen—everything except Philip’s real name.

  She hid her unhappiness from John, but when she was alone she spent her time remembering and crying in her room. She neither went out nor received visitors, using the excuse that she didn’t feel well, which was actually the truth. It was much hotter in the city than it had been in the mountains. She suffered in the stifling humidity and the bad ventilation of the small apartment. She often felt dizzy and sick.

  Christina knew she had to start living again, so she finally consented to receive the officers’ wives for tea.

  At first they chatted politely about the weather, the opera, and the servant problem. But then the five middle-aged women started gossiping about people Christina didn’t know—and didn’t care to know. She mechanically turned them off with thoughts of Philip, but her attention returned when she heard her name spoken.

  “As I was saying, Miss Wakefield, my husband was one of the men who helped search for you,” the heavyset woman said.

  “So did my James,” another woman chimed in.

  “We were all so worried when you couldn’t be found. We thought surely you must be dead after so long,” added another woman, biting into a delicate little cake.

  “And then you showed up perfectly safe and unharmed. It was like a miracle.”

  “Tell us, Miss Wakefield, how did you manage to escape?” the heavyset woman asked pointedly.

  Christina stood and moved away to stand facing the mantel. These women only wanted to worm information out of her so they could retell it all over t
he city and criticize her.

  “I would rather not discuss it if you don’t mind,” Christina said calmly, facing them again.

  “But dear, we’re all your friends. You can tell us.”

  “I would have killed myself if it had been me,” one of the ladies remarked distastefully.

  “So would I,” replied another.

  “I am sure you two value your lives cheaply. For myself, I prefer to go on living,” Christina remarked coldly. “You call yourselves friends—you’re nothing but a bunch of gossips. I have no intention of telling you anything. I want all of you to leave this house—immediately!”

  “Well! Listen to Miss High and Mighty. We came here to offer our sympathy, and you act as if you’re proud of what happened to you—of being a dirty Arab’s captive. Why—you’re nothing but a—”

  “Get out of here—all of you!” Christina screamed.

  “We’re going! But let me tell you this, Miss Wakefield. You’re used goods now! No decent man will ever consider marrying you after you’ve laid down with a filthy Arab. Mark my words!”

  Christina didn’t tell John about the incident when he came home. But he already knew.

  “They made you cry, didn’t they, Crissy?” he said softly, taking her face in his hands. “You must not take it to heart. They’re just a bunch of jealous biddies.”

  “But what they said was true, John. No decent man will ever marry me now. I’m dirty!”

  “That’s ridiculous, and I don’t want to hear you talk like that again,” he scolded her. “You underestimate your beauty, Crissy. Any man would give his right arm to be married to you. Hasn’t William Dawson been here to see you a dozen times? If you’d just get out and start living again, you’d find yourself swamped with proposals! Why don’t you come to the opera with Kareen and me tonight?”

  “I don’t want to intrude upon your evening with Kareen.” Christina sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping forward. “I’ll read a book perhaps and retire early.”