“You didn’t tell me when you ran off to Scotland to get married. You didn’t tell me about Lillian until you returned.”
Lillian straightened. She’d thought Bernadette had come to terms with having her there. It seemed, however, that there were some unresolved issues. She took a step toward her sister-in-law. “But you know we didn’t even tell my mother. And the rest of my family is equally out of sorts with me that there wasn’t a wedding breakfast for them to plan. In her last letter, Cora threatened to stop speaking to me indefinitely.”
Bernadette seemed almost interested at the mention of one of Lillian’s younger sisters but instead shifted her gaze back to her brother. “Most normal people might say a lengthy betrothal would be appropriate.” She glanced at Lillian.” Of course, I’m sure you’ve realized by now that my brother is anything but normal.”
At this, Lillian frowned.
“Don’t be a brat, Bernadette, if you wish to pick a quarrel with me, I’d prefer you do so in private.”
Lillian bit her lip. She was beginning to wonder if Christian’s sister wasn’t as unaware of her brother’s concerns as he’d like to believe. “But if we are to be family…”
Bernadette gave Lillian her full attention. “You do know, don’t you, that my brother believes he is going to die? Are you aware that he married you because he thinks I am too much of a simpleton to avoid the clutches of Cousin Livermore? That he’s desperate to provide a rightful heir so that upon his death, he can leave this earth with a clean conscience?”
By the time she came to the end of her startling tirade, Bernadette was glaring daggers at her brother. “Did you think I didn’t know?” Angry tears shone in her eyes. She didn’t wait around for an answer from him, however, but burst from the chair and ran out of the room.
“Bernadette!” Christian looked horrified and confused as he glanced down at Lillian.
“Go after her!” Lillian urged him. She hated that he had this fear, but it was possibly doing greater harm to his sister than it had to either of them. He nodded.
“What should I tell her?” Oh, but men were clueless sometimes!
“Just listen to her. And then tell her the truth.”
“She… The truth?”
“All of it, Christian. She is not a child.” Lillian shooed him. “ If she doesn’t open her door for you, wait her out if you must. We’ll go to a gala some other day.”
He stepped forward, squeezed her hand gratefully and then rushed from the room.
Of course, his sister knew all of it.Of course, she did.
Lillian dropped onto the settee and slumped into the cushions. She should have thought of this sooner. She should have known a girl of such an age was far more aware than she would have been given credit for.
She was not surprised when she heard the sound of a slamming door echo from the bedchambers upstairs.
How wasit that women could make a man feel soutterly guiltyfor transgressions they wereutterly unawareof having committed?
After pounding on his sister’s bedchamber door for ten minutes, with only a few grunts and curses for an answer, Christian dropped onto the floor on the opposite side of the corridor, thinking to wait her out silently. Horace had apparently followed him upstairs as well and lowered himself to sit beside him.
“You are lucky to be a canine.” Christian rubbed his hand along the dog’s back.
Horace turned his head and tilted it questioningly. “Don’t act like you don’t know why.” Christian winced. Even his dog, it seemed, understood what was happening under this roof.
Christian had been so caught up in his own frustrations that he’d failed to notice what he was doing to his sister. The one person he’d sworn he would protect at all costs.
His breath caught.
If he hadn’t wanted to protect Bernadette so badly, he never would have met Lillian.
Lillian.
The first person he thought of in the morning and the last person he thought of before he fell asleep.
She was coming to care for him, and he hated knowing he was going to hurt her. Already, he wondered if it was too late.
The only answer was to send her away. Allow her all of that independence she had wanted when she’d accepted his proposal. They’d known one another for little more than a month. After less than one week, he’d rushed her headlong to the altar.
Not even an altar. To an anvil.
