"Love! What has love to do with it? I desired her then, just as I desire you now," Philip said, with very little emotion in his deep voice.
"Then she doesn't mean anything to you now?" Estelle asked.
"Christina is the mother of my son—that's all. Now I must ask you to leave, Estelle, before someone finds you here. The next time you wish to talk to me privately, find a more suitable place."
"Anything you say, Philip," Estelle giggled, obviously pleased with herself. "Will I see you for lunch?"
"I'll be down shortly."
Christina sat down on the edge of her bed feeling as if a knife had been plunged into her heart. She had been famished, but now all thoughts of food vanished. She had to get away!
She tore off her dress, put on her riding habit, and ran down the stairs and out of the house.
Christina had a stableboy saddle Dax while she waited impatiently. Then she took off down the path leading to the open fields, and the tears anally came.
The wind pushed the salty drops to the sides of her eyes as Christina urged Dax faster and faster. The pins fell from her hair and it tumbled down her back, streaming in the wind behind her. She wanted to end it all, but remembered Philip Junior. She couldn't leave her baby. She had to face the fact that she still loved Philip but she would never have him again. She would just have to accept it and take what joy she could in her son. Tommy loved her, and perhaps someday she could feel content with him.
It had been dark for two hours when Christina finally came in the front door and leaned back against it, exhausted. Philip came out of the drawing room, an angry, concerned expression on his face, but he relaxed and grinned when he saw her. John and Kareen were right behind him, Kareen worried and John filled with rage.
"Where the hell have you been, Christina?" John fumed. "This makes twice in the same day you've gone off without a word. What's gotten into you?"
"Is Philip Junior all right?" Christina asked.
"He's fine. Johnsy had to send for a wet nurse when you didn't come back. He was a bit fretful, but he's sleeping now. Crissy, are you hurt?" John asked. "You look as if you've taken a fall."
Christina looked down at herself. She was a mess. Her hair was in tangles, falling over her shoulders and down to her waist Her dark-green velvet riding habit was torn in many places from riding wildly through the woods.
She pushed herself away from the door and straightened her back proudly.
"I'm fine, John. Just tired and hungry."
She started to walk away, but John pulled her back. "Just a minute, young lady. You haven't answered my questions. Where have you been all this time? The whole household has been out searching for you."
Christina glanced at Philip's amused expression and became angry. "Damn it! I'm not a child anymore, John—I can take care of myself! Just because I go off by myself for a few hours is no reason for you to send out a search party."
"A few hours! You've been gone all day."
"I've been riding—that's all! And you of all people should understand why!"
John knew why. It seemed Philip's presence in this house troubled Christina more than he had thought it would.
"Crissy, I want to talk you—privately," John said.
"Not tonight, John—I told you, I'm tired."
He walked with her toward the stairs and out of the others' hearing. "Crissy, if Philip is upsetting you this much, then I'll ask him to leave."
"No!" she shouted, then said more softly, "I don't want him to leave, John. I can't deny him the right to be with his son. I've come to terms with myself—Til be able to handle his presence from now on." She hoped she was telling the truth.
John walked solemnly back to Kareen after Christina went upstairs.
"I'll have someone take a tray of food to her room, and hot water for a bath," Kareen said, looking worriedly at her husband. "Did you find out what made her go off this afternoon?"
"I know why," John replied, giving Philip a disapproving glance. "But I don't know what to do about it"
Chapter Thirty-two
IT was the fifth day of the new year, 1885. The last seven days had been filled with tension for everyone at Wakefield Manor, but for Christina most of all. Estelle snubbed her rudely whenever they met, while Philip looked on with an amused smile. But the supper table every evening was the worst time to endure. Poor John and Kareen sat at the head and foot, waiting nervously for an explosion. Christina and Tommy sat on one side of the table, Tommy glowering at Philip. And Philip and Estelle sat on the other side, Estelle openly showing contempt for Christina. They were sitting on a powder keg.
Philip had changed since Christina's disappearance a week ago. He no longer bantered with her, but treated her coldly and politely. He never mentioned the past, which unnerved Christina, for she was continually waiting for some biting remark that didn't come.
She tried to avoid being alone with Philip, but was always left alone with him in the nursery. Christina insisted that Johnsy stay with her, but as soon as Philip walked into the nursery, Johnsy would make some lame excuse and depart quickly.
However, Philip seemed interested only in his son, and he kept his distance from Christina. He watched her bathe Philip Junior, or played with him on the soft, carpeted floor. But whenever it was time for his feeding, Philip left tactfully. And that completely baffled her.
Tommy had become the worst of her problems. He had grown very demanding since Philip's arrival. He constantly pressed Christina to set a date for their marriage, although so far she had avoided doing so.
But today, Christina had finally found something to rejoice about.
Kareen came into the dining room while Christina was eating a late lunch.
"Estelle has finally decided to go home—she's upstairs packing right now," she said.
Christina said nothing, although she felt like jumping for joy.
"Even though she is my sister and I love her dearly," Kareen continued, "I don't mind admitting I'm glad she's leaving. But it puzzles me why—and she won't tell me. Only yesterday I tried to talk her into leaving, and she was flatly against it. Then she went riding with Philip this morning, and when she returned just a little while ago, she stated angrily that she wouldn't stay here another minute. It's better this way, for I know she was heading for a big letdown, but I still don't understand it."
Neither did Christina. But it didn't matter why Estelle was leaving—so long as she left. Now Christina wouldn't have to suffer seeing another woman clinging to Philip's side. But Philip might leave now that Estelle was going. Suddenly Christina didn't feel quite so happy.
With his hands clasped behind his head, Philip reclined on the big brass bed listening intently to the sounds coming from the room next to his. He glanced at the antique clock on the mantel above the fireplace. Five minutes to ten—he wouldn't have much longer to wait.
Philip grimaced when he recalled what had happened that morning. He had tired of the game he was playing with Christina and Estelle, and had been trying to think of a way to end it. Estelle's boldness had provided the solution to his problem.
Estelle had cornered him after breakfast and asked him to take her riding. Philip saw no reason not to, since Christina was upstairs feeding Philip Junior. But after they had ridden some distance from the house, Estelle had dismounted under a large oak tree. She had sat down under the tree and taken off her riding hat, shaking her thick black hair loose, and beckoned to Philip seductively.
"Estelle, get back on your horse. I have no time for playing games," he had said harshly.