“You will have my carriage brought around at once, Sergeant. That’s an order!”
It was nearing noon when John reached home. He managed to get the door to his apartment open without disturbing Christina, but as he headed for the spare bedroom, Mrs. Greene, his housekeeper, stopped him.
“What on earth are you doing home in the middle of the day, John Wakefield? And what have you there?” she asked disapprovingly.
“This is my sister.”
“Your sister?” Mrs. Greene was shocked. “You mean this is the little girl you’ve been searching for high and low? Well, why didn’t you say so? Don’t just stand there, take your sister into the bedroom.”
“That was where I was going until you stopped me, Mrs. Greene,” John said. He walked into the room that contained all of Christina’s possessions, and laid her gently on the bed.
“Is she hurt—how did you find her?”
“She just needs to sleep, that’s all,” John said. He looked down lovingly at Christina. “Perhaps you could take off her outer robe so she will be more comfortable, but try not to wake her.”
“Well, if you don’t want her to waken, you’d better help me.”
John noticed a crumpled piece of paper squeezed tightly in Christina’s hand. He managed to pry it loose, and tossed it on the small bedside table. Then together they removed Christina’s robe and slippers. Christina opened her eyes once, but closed them again and continued to sleep.
Mrs. Greene and John left the room, and he quietly closed the door. He went straight to the liquor cabinet in the drawing room, poured a stiff glass of whiskey, and sank down into his favorite stuffed chair.
“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.”
