“Yes, that portrait was painted after she came back to England with her two sons. She was never happy again, but she never told anyone the reason.”
“You mentioned two sons?”
“Yes, Mr. Caxton has a younger brother who lives in London.”
Christina felt a wave of dizziness, and collapsed into the nearest chair.
“Are you all right, Miss Christina? You look pale,” Mavis exclaimed.
“I don’t know—I—I just felt a bit faint. Would you mind telling me Mr. Caxton’s first name,” she asked. But she already knew the answer.
“I thought I had,” said Emma. “His name is Philip. Philip Caxton, Esquire.”
“And his brother’s name is Paul?” Christina asked weakly.
“Why, yes—but how did you know? Are you acquainted with Mr. Philip?”
“Acquainted!” Christina laughed hysterically. “I’m going to have his baby.”
Mavis gasped.
“But why didn’t you tell me?” Emma asked, a shocked expression on her face.
“I think it’s wonderful!” Mavis blurted.
“But you don’t understand. I didn’t know this was his home. Mavis, you never told Johnsy Mr. Caxton’s first name, and Philip never told me he had an estate in this part of the country. I can’t stay here now—he wouldn’t like it.”
“Nonsense,” Emma smiled. “What better place for Mr. Philip’s baby to be born than in his own home?”
“But Philip didn’t want me. He doesn’t want this child.”
“I can’t believe that, Miss Christina—you’re too lovely,” said Mavis. “Mr. Caxton cannot be that much of a fool. Did you tell him about the child?”
“I—I knew he didn’t want this child, so I saw no point in telling him of it.”
“If you didn’t tell him, then you can’t be sure of his feelings,” Emma said reasonably. “No, you will stay here as planned. You cannot deny me the chance to see Philip Caxton’s child.”
“But—”
“Now I don’t want to hear another word about your leaving. But I would love to hear how you and Mr. Caxton met!”
“I want to hear the whole story!” said Mavis.
Christina looked up at the portrait of Lady Anjanet. How like her Philip was!
A few weeks later, Christina’s pains started. She felt the first slight cramps while taking her morning stroll in the vast floral gardens behind the house.
Emma immediately put Christina to bed, set water to boil, and summoned Mavis, who was experienced at delivering babies. She remained at Christina’s side and assured her that everything was going well. The hours passed by slowly, and Christina fought back screams as her pains came faster.
She labored fourteen long hours. With a final great effort, she pushed her baby into the world, and was rewarded by his lusty wail.
Christina was exhausted, but she smiled contentedly. “I want to hold my son,” she whispered weakly to Emma, who was standing beside her bed looking just as worn-out as Christina.
“As soon as Mavis finishes washing him, child, you can have him. But how did you know he was a boy?”
“What else would Philip Caxton sire?”
IT WAS MIDDAY in late September, and the slow-moving ceiling fans did nothing to alleviate the stuffiness in the small hotel dining room. Philip had arrived in Cairo only yesterday. This morning he’d managed to find a decently fitting suit, and had ordered everything else he would need for his journey home. Now he sat with a glass of cognac waiting for his meal, his mind a blank. He didn’t want to think about his last eight months of living hell.
