Johanna Lindsey - Captive Bride

"Oh my God. What have I done? I've killed her!" " Tommy cried. The color drained from his face, and with a sickening cry he turned and ran down the stairs. But before he'd reached the front door, John came tearing through the dining room, with Kareen and Johnsy right behind him.

"Tommy!" John yelled, halting him at the door. Tommy turned slowly around, and John paled at the sight of the two pistols in his hands. "My God! What have you done?" Tommy dropped the weapons instantly, as if they burned his hands. But one pistol was still loaded, and it exploded with a horrible sound when it hit the floor. An anguished scream echoed from upstairs. Tommy fell to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks.

"She's come to haunt me already!" Tommy cried. "Oh, God, Crissy, I didn't mean to hurt you. I loved you."

"Stay where you are, Tommy," John commanded in a choked voice before he ran up the stairs, the women right behind him.

"Where will I go?" Tommy mumbled to himself in the empty hall. "Why doesn't Caxton come after me? Justice must be done! Oh, God, how could I have been so blind as not to see how much she loved him—so much that she would run into my line of fire to protect him? I can't live with what I've done—I want to diel"

DAMN it, Doctor, why won't she wake up? It's been 3Ljr three days now, and you said it was only a superficial wound—it didn't even need bandaging!" John paced the floor in Christina's bedroom as old Dr. Willis closed his bag.

"From what Mr. Caxton tells me, I'm afraid Christina's condition is mental, not physical. When she awoke from the first faint and heard the second shot, she instantly assumed her son had been killed. There is absolutely no reason why she shouldn't wake up—she just doesn't want to."

"But she has every reason to live!"

"We know that, but she doesn't. All I can suggest is that you sit here and talk to her—try to bring her out of it. And don't fret so much, John. In all my years, I have never lost a patient who died of plain stubbornness. Except your mother. But she was awake, she willed herself to die. Talk to Christina. Tell her that boy of hers needs her—tell her anything that might make her come out of it Once she's awake, she will be fine."

After Doctor Willis left, Philip came into the room and stood beside the bed.

"What did Willis have to say?" Philip asked soberly.

"That there is no reason why she shouldn't wake up, she just doesn't want to!" John replied heatedly. "Damn itl She's willing herself to die from grief, just as our mother did."

* * *

Late that night, after John had spent the whole day talking to her, Christina finally opened her eyes.

She looked at John, who was sitting in a chair beside her bed, and she wondered why he was there. Then she remembered what had happened.

"Oh, God, no—no!" she cried hysterically.

"It's all right, Crissy—Philip Junior is all right! He is alive, I swear it!" John said quickly.

"Don't—don't lie to me, John," Christina implored him through her sobs.

"I swear, Crissy, no harm came to your son. He is in the next room sleeping."

She couldn't stop crying. "I heard the shot. I heard itl"

"The shot you heard came from downstairs, Crissy, when Tommy dropped his pistols on the floor. No one was hurt by it—Philip Junior is all right."

Christina threw back the covers and started to get out of bed. But a blinding pain shot through her head, and she fell back onto the pillow. "I have to see for myself."

"Very well, Crissy, if you won't believe me. But sit up slowly this time. You've been in bed for three days."

John finally had to carry her into the nursery. He set her down gently beside the bassinet and held her so she wouldn't fall. Christina looked down at her sleeping son. She put her hand close to his small face and felt his warm breath, then she caressed his cheek. He stirred and turned his head.

"He is alive," she whispered happily. John picked her up and carried her back to her bed. She started crying again from sheer joy.

"I'll have some food brought up, Crissy. And then you should rest some more."

"But you said I'd been sleeping for three days. The last thing I need is more rest. I want to know what happened, John," Christina said soberly.

""One of the Huntington servants found me in the stables. Lord Huntington had sent the lad over to warn me that Tommy was coming here armed. I heard the first shot before I reached the house. I found Tommy in the hall. The second shot was fired accidentally. You screamed, and I thought Tommy had already killed Philip. But when I got upstairs, I found that you'd been shot. Crissy—I thought you were dead. But Philip assured me you had only fainted on hearing the second shot If you hadn't blacked out, you would have known that Philip Junior was all right. The first shot didn't bother him, but the second shot echoing through the house scared him and he was screaming his lungs out. He wouldn't even stop crying for Johnsy."

"Philip is all right, too?"

"Yes. You both would have been all right if you hadn't run into the line of fire. I know why you did it, Crissy, but I didn't think it my place to tell Philip. Thank God the bullet only grazed you."

"Where is Philip now?"

"I believe he's downstairs getting drunk, as he has done these last three nights."

"And Tommy—is he all right?"

"Tommy, I think, was more shaken than the rest of us. He really thought he'd killed you. He cried like a baby when I told him you were only unconscious. But I'm afraid he was arrested. After all, he did shoot you."

"But I'm all right—it was only an accident. I don't want him in jail, John. Tommy went crazy because I broke off our engagement. I want you to have him released—tonight."

"I'll see what I can do, but first I'll get you some food."

* * *

"Miss Crissy, love, wake up. There's someone 'ere who'd like to see 'is mama."

Christina turned over in bed to see Johnsy rocking Philip Junior in her arms. She smiled, for even though he was being cuddled, he was still fidgeting. She unbuttoned her nightgown, then put him to her breast while she watched Johnsy, who was obviously agitated, straightening the room.

"Whatever is the matter with you?" Christina asked.

"I don't mind sayin' you scared the wits out of me—you lyin' up 'ere in bed three days. And your brother, of all things, tells me to come and ask you if you're up to seein' Master Tommy. If 'e'd asked me, Fd'a said no, but nobody asks me anything anymore."

"Oh, stop your grumbling, Johnsy. I'll see Tommy as soon as I'm finished feeding Philip Junior."

"Perhaps you're not up to it yet?" Johnsy ventured hopefully.

"There's nothing wrong with me. Now get along with you and tell Tommy I'll see him shortly."

A while later, Tommy knocked on the door as Christina came back from putting Philip Junior in his bassinet She opened the door and noticed that Tommy was wearing traveling clothes. She invited him into the room.

"Crissy, I—"

"It's all right, Tommy," she interrupted. "You don't have to say anything about it."

"But I want to," he said, taking her hands in his. "I'm so sorry, Crissy. You've got to believe that I wouldn't have hurt you for the world."

"I know that, Tommy."

"I realize now how much you love Philip Caxton. I should have seen it sooner, but I was too obsessed with my own feelings. When Caxton came here, I saw him only as a rival. But now I know you were never mine to have— you were always his. Tell him I'm sorry for what happened. He's still sleeping or I'd attempt to tell him myself."

"You can tell him later." ' "No, I won't be here. I'm leaving this morning."

"But where are you going?"

"I have decided to enter the military, as John did," Tommy said sheepishly.

"But what about your lands? Your father will need you," Christina said. But she could tell that Tommy had already made up his mind.

"My father is still a young man. There's nothing for me here. I'm like you were, Crissy, living all my life here. It's time I saw a bit of the world." He kissed her lightly on the cheek, his brown eyes warm with friendship. "I'll never find anyone like you, but perhaps there will be someone."

"I hope so, Tommy, I really do. And I wish you all the luck in the world."

Christina stood in the middle of the room for a long time after Tommy left. She felt very sad and lonely, as if a little piece of her heart had just been chipped away. The Tommy she'd just spoken to was the old Tommy, the Tommy she loved as a brother, and she would miss him sorely.

PHILIP woke with a splitting headache. The sunlight streaming into the room didn't help matters any. He pressed his hands against his temples to ease the pain, but it didn't help. He glanced down at his fully clothed body, minus one shoe, and groaned slightly.

John had said last night that Christina had finally awakened. Or had he dreamed it all? Well, there was one way to find out. He stood up. A sharp pain shot through his head again, and he vowed he wouldn't touch another glass of whiskey for a long time. He splashed water liberally on his face, then stood there holding onto the dresser until the pain eased somewhat

After a while, Philip was able to kindle the fire that he hadn't bothered to light the night before. He shaved the stubble off his face and changed his clothes. He began to feel almost human again, and decided this was as good a time as any to see Christina.

He walked the few feet to her room and went in unannounced, to find her propped up in bed and wearing her black-velvet robe, of all things, over a white-lace nightdress. Her long hair was spread out on the pillow behind her framing her in a golden halo of beauty.

"Don't you ever knock?" she asked curtly.

"You would only tell me to come in, anyway, so why should I waste both your time and mine?" Philip closed the door and sat down in the chair that John had pulled up beside the bed. "So—you are finally awake. What the devil do you mean by sleeping three days, madam, and leaving my son to the mercy of a wet nurse?"

By the tone of his voice, Christina didn't know whether Philip was chaffing her or if he was serious. She chose the latter and became annoyed.

"I'm sorry if my delay in waking has upset you, but I have seen my son this morning. And he seems to have fared rather well. And since you appear to have a dislike for wet nurses, tell me, Philip, how would you have managed if I'd agreed to give you my son?"

"Damn it, woman!" he bellowed, then groaned at the sound of his own voice.

Christina realized what was the matter with him, and she started to giggle.

"What the hell is so damn funny?" He scowled at her through reddened eyes.

"You are," Christina said, repressing her laughter. "What could have possessed you to drown yourself in liquor three nights straight? I know you were upset about nearly losing Philip Junior, but is that any reason to make yourself sick? He wasn't harmed."

"You are up here in bed in an unconscious state, and I don't know if you are going to live or die—and you ask me what possessed me to drink!"

"What would it matter to you if I lived or died? I am sure that if I hadn't come through, John would have given you Philip Junior. You should have been quite happy at the prospect of getting what you wanted. I'm sorry I disappointed you."

Philip leaned back in the chair and stared at Christina. "I ought to tan your hide for that remark! Ah, hell— never mind. I shouldn't have come to see you this soon. I should have realized you'd be upset knowing your lover is in jail."

"He was not my lover, damn it!" Christina snapped angrily. "For the record, Mr. Caxton, you are the only lover I've ever had."

"You don't have to shout, damn it!" he shouted himself.

"Don't I? It would seem that is the only way I can reach you. And furthermore, Tommy is no longer in jail. He was—"

"Did I hear you correctly?" Philip cut her off, his green eyes turning a shade darker.

"You did," she replied, ignoring his rising anger. "Tommy was released last night—at my insistence."

"For the love of God!" Philip exploded, forgetting his headache. "After what he did to you, you turn him loose as if nothing happened?"