Charles gave her a hug, delighted at her reaction. “You are well enough in your way, my little cabbage.”
When they reached the house, Christa jumped from the carriage and raced up the stairs. A watchful footman opened the door, and she went hurtling through. Marie-Claire was waiting. With a sob of joy, Christa hurled herself into her mother’s arms. “Oh,Maman,Maman,” she gasped through her tears. “I’ve missed you so!”
* * *
Lewis kept out of the way while Christa and Marie-Claire had their reunion. Much later in the day, Christa sent him a message requesting a meeting in the library. He was at his most impassive when he complied; she was beginning to recognize the expression as embarrassment. She rose at his entrance, studying the lean blond figure. He really was a very distinguished-looking man—stern, perhaps, butMamanwould cure that. Men had always fallen in love with her mother, and it was a testament to Lewis’s character that Marie-Claire reciprocated his feelings.
He stood in silence for a moment, then said with rehearsed precision, “I owe you a profound apology, Marie-Christine. I behaved very badly, and I fear my actions may have put you into danger. Certainly into discomfort.”
Christa shrugged and gave a gamin smile. “But as you see, I am none the worse for it, and I have no regrets that I left Radcliffe Hall. I think that my actions perhaps caused you more pain than yours caused me.”
Lewis smiled ruefully and began to relax. “If you only knew! Did I really see you near Hyde Park last autumn? I thought perhaps I was hallucinating.”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “Luckily London is an easy place in which to lose oneself.” She studied him a moment longer, then crossed and offered her hand. “We had best be friends. Otherwise it will make Charles and my mother very unhappy.”
“Then you know . . . ?” he asked as he took her hand and held it between his two large ones.
“Yes, and I approve.Mamanlikes being married. It will be good for her to have someone to care for.” She grinned. “Almost as good as it will be for you to have someone caring for you.”
Lewis bent and kissed her hand, not with the passion of a lover but with respect and affection. “You are a rare young woman, Marie-Christine, worthy of being your mother’s daughter.”
Christa blushed pink at the compliment. “You could have said nothing that would please me more. But there is one thing.”
“Yes?”
“Our relationship will prosper much better if you call me Christa. No one uses my full name unless he is angry with me.”
Lewis laughed, obviously delighted beyond measure to have both her forgiveness of the past and her blessing for the future. Offering his arm, he said, “Shall we go inform the rest of the family that we have made peace?”
“With great pleasure.” She smiled, feeling more comfortable with Lewis than she ever had in the past. “This should be a day without shadows.”
Chapter 18
Of course, the Debenhams could not be left at the Orchard with no member of the family in residence, but two and a half days in a carriage with them left Annabelle with the passionate hope that Alex had succeeded in finding Christa and persuading her to marry him. What was a little—well, a big—scandal, compared to a lifetime of having Sybil in the family?
The Debenhams dropped her in St. James’s Square, stopping only long enough to ascertain that Alex was still among the living before continuing to their town house. Sybil did suggest dutifully that she stay and “lend her dear sister support,” but she was no more eager to do it than Annabelle was to have her.
Annabelle immediately went to Alex’s room, where he lay on a chaise with an unopened book in his lap. Obviously her brother was not at death’s door, but his worn, gray look struck at her heart. She went to him and dropped a kiss on his forehead before seating herself. “You didn’t find Christa?” she asked softly.
Alex closed his eyes, a spasm of emotion crossing his features. “I would rather not talk about her, Belle. In fact, please forget everything I told you.”
“If that is what you wish.” She paused, then asked diffidently, “What about Miss Debenham?”
He shrugged slightly. “The engagement stands.”
“But you don’t love her!”
“It really doesn’t matter, Belle. I’ll be at sea most of the time. Sybil knows what she is getting into, and still wants to marry me. Someone might as well be satisfied.”
Annabelle could have wept to see her brother this way but could think of no words of comfort. Had Christa rejected him, and done it cruelly? Annabelle had trouble imagining her sensitive abigail doing that, but obviously something deeply traumatic had happened to Alex. He seemed as desolate now as Annabelle had been after the disillusion with Sir Edward Loaming, and he had no Christa to tease him out of it.
She sighed. He would have to find his salvation in his work. If he was determined to throw his life away in a loveless match, she could not change his mind.
She went to sit on the floor by the chaise, taking her brother’s hand and leaning her cheek against it to convey her wordless sympathy. They sat in silence for a long time as the shadows deepened. Eventually Annabelle straightened up and said, “Perhaps Jonathan will be luckier in love than you and I.”
Alex smiled a bit at that. “Life goes on. By next week I should be well enough to go to Plymouth and start provisioning my new ship. Would you like to have Cousin Hattie stay here? She is the most agreeable of the available female relatives.”
“She’d certainly be an improvement on Aunt Agatha. I don’t suppose she can be induced to leave those dreadful birds of hers at home?” Cousin Hattie was notorious for her shrieking, messy pairs of inappropriately named lovebirds.
