Johanna Lindsey - Captive Bride

"You may stay here as long as you like, Philip, although it will probably cause quite a commotion. As you know, Estelle is also here, and she fancies herself in love with you. I don't know how you feel about her, but please handle the situation carefully—for Christina's sake." John stood up and walked to the door. "I'm sure you want to see your son now. Ill try to explain things to Tommy Huntington while Christina takes you to the nursery."

"I am grateful for your understanding," Philip returned.

Standing outside the study with Philip beside him, John called Christina, and she appeared in the hallway, her face a mask of trepidation.

"I've decided to let Philip stay for a while," John said.

"But John—"

"It's already settled, Crissy. Now take Philip up to the nursery. It's about time he met his son."

"OhI" She turned and started for the stairs, not waiting for Philip.

"You didn't expect it to go easily, did you?" John asked.

"Nothing is ever easy where Christina is concerned," Philip replied, and followed her up the stairs.

She waited for him at the door to the nursery. She felt tense and angry, and when Philip reached her, she could no longer control her temper.

"What do you expect to gain by staying here?" she said harshly. "Haven't you caused enough misery as it is?"

"I've already told you, Christina. I came here for my son."

"You can't be serious! After what you did to me, you expect me to hand over my son? Well, you can't have him!"

"Is he in this room?"

"Yes, but—"

Philip opened the door and walked past Christina into the nursery. He went directly to the bassinet and stood there looking down at his son,

Christina came up beside him, but she didn't say anything when she saw his proud smile as he gazed at Philip Junior.

"He is a handsome lad, Tina—thank you," Philip said warmly, and Christina melted again at the softness in his voice. Philip picked up his son gently. Surprisingly, the baby didn't cry, but stared curiously at the stubble of whiskers on his father's face. "What did you name him?"

Christina hesitated and averted her eyes. What could she tell him?

"Junior," she whispered.

"Junior! What kind of name is that for my son?" Philip stormed, and Philip Junior began to cry.

She quickly took her baby from Philip's arms, as he stood there helplessly. "Hush, darling, it's all right—mama's here," she soothed. He stopped crying immediately, and Christina glared at Philip. "The name was my choice, since you weren't here. Oh—why did you have to come?"

"I came here with good intentions, but then I overheard you agreeing to marry your lover," Philip returned, his eyes dark and menacing.

"My lover!"

"Oh, come now, Christina—spare me your denials. I of all people know what a passionate woman you are. After all these months, I expected to find you in another man's arms."

"I hate you!" Christina cried, her eyes turning a dark, shadowy blue.

"I am well aware of how you feel about me, madam. If you hate me so, why do you wish to keep my son? Every time you look at him, you will see me."

"He is also my son! I carried him for nine months. I suffered the pain of bringing him into this world. I will not give him up! He is a part of me, and I love him!"

"There is another matter that puzzles me. If you hate me so, why did you go to Victory to bear my son?"

"I didn't know it was your home until after I arrived. I didn't want to stay here, and so Johnsy, my old nanny, suggested I go to her sister, who happens to be your cook. I went to Victory. How was I to know it was your estate?"

"That must have been quite a surprise," Philip sneered. "Why didn't you leave when you found out the truth?"

"Emma insisted I stay. Now I don't want to discuss it any longer," she replied. "You will have to leave now, Philip. It's time for his feeding."

"Then feed him. It's rather late for false modesty on your part, Christina. I'm well acquainted with the body bidden underneath your dress."

"You are impossible! You haven't changed one damn bit."

"No—but you have. You used to be more honest."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She walked toward her bedroom door. "I suggest you have someone show you to your room. You may see your son later—if you wish."

She sat down in a chair in the far corner of her room and rested Philip Junior on her lap while unbuttoning her bodice. But she still felt Philip's presence and looked up to see him leaning against the doorframe, watching her intently.

"Please, Philip! You are welcome in the nursery, but this is my room. I would like some privacy—if you don't mind."

"Do I embarrass you, Christina? You have never bared your breasts in front of a man before?" he taunted. "I suggest you stop acting indignant, and feed my son. He is hungry, is he not?"

"Oh!" She decided to ignore him, and hoped he would leave. She pulled one side of her dress open and gave Philip Junior her breast. He sucked greedily, resting one tiny fist against her. She was fully aware that Philip still watched her.

"Christina, what are you doin'?" Johnsy shrieked, coming into the room from the other entrance and seeing Philip.

"It's all right, Johnsy. Calm yourself," Christina said irritably. "This is Philip Caxton."

"So you be Philip Junior's father," Johnsy snapped, turning to face Philip. "Well, you 'ave your nerve comin' 'ere after what you did to my baby."

"Oh, hush, Johnsy! You've said enough already," Christina bit off. Philip started laughing, and she cringed, knowing full well what he found so amusing. "It's a common name, damn it! I need not explain myself to you!" Philip Junior began crying again.

"You get yourself out of 'ere, Mr. Caxton. You're dis-turbin' Crissy an' your son," Johnsy scolded. She closed the door behind Philip, but Christina could still hear him laughing. She quickly closed the other door, then looked at Christina, shaking her head. "So 'e did come—I knew 'e would. Does Master John know?"

"Yes. John has decided to let Philip stay here. And Tommy knows, too. Philip walked in just when I was agreeing to marry Tommy. Oh, Johnsy, what am I going to do?" Christina started crying. "He came here for his son—not me! Philip is so cold to me, and how can I bear seeing him and Estelle together?"

"It will be all right, Miss Crissy—you'll see. Now you stop your cryin', or that little one will never settle down."

* * *

Christina closed the door to the nursery very quietly and turned to see Philip coming out of the next room. She had to walk toward him to get to the stairs, but he blocked her way.

"Is Philip Junior asleep?" he asked teasingly.

"Yes," she replied, avoiding his eyes. "Is your room satisfactory?"

"It will do," he returned, and tilted her face up to his. "But I'd prefer to share yours."

Philip pulled her against him, molding her body against bis, and his lips covered hers, demanding a response. She gave it willingly. All the long, lonely months disappeared.

"Ah, Tina—why didn't you tell me you were carrying my child?" he murmured huskily.

"I didn't know I had conceived until I was three months' pregnant. And it was too late then—you had already married Nura."

"Nura!" he laughed, looking down into her soft blue eyes.

But then he stiffened. So—she had gone back to her brother because she wanted to. Philip thought she might already have known of her pregnancy, and been afraid he would be angry. When would he learn that the woman hated him!

"Philip, what's the matter with you?" Christina asked, seeing the coldness in his eyes.

"You had best go to your lover, madam. I'm sure you prefer his kisses to mine!" Philip said harshly, and pushed her away.

Christina watched him walk away and felt as if her knees would give way. What had she said to make him hurt her so cruelly? She had been deliriously happy only a moment before, and now she felt like dying.

"Philip! Oh, I knew you would come!"

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 wanned 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 nightdress.

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."