After Christina left Dax, she walked through the woods in back of the stables until she came to the small pond where she and Tommy used to swim. It was a peaceful place, shaded by a tall oak whose limbs reached halfway over the water.
She sat down and leaned against the old tree recalling a similar pond in the mountains. Philip probably took Nura there now.
Christina returned to the house late. The sun had already disappeared, and the sky was a soft purple and steadily growing darker. Christina stepped into the lighted hallway. It had become a bit chilly, and she rubbed her bare arms briskly as she headed for the drawing room.
The room was in darkness when she entered. Only the soft light from the hallway allowed her to see her way to the fireplace. She took one of the long matches from the mantel and lit the fire, then stood back as it gained strength. Gradually the warmth touched her, and she moved away to light the many lamps throughout the room. She had taken only two steps when she saw a figure standing in the shadows by the open window. She gasped in sheer fright when the figure moved toward her, but her fear turned to anger when she saw who it was.
"You scared the wits out of me, Tommy Huntington! What the devil are you doing in here in the dark?" she said angrily.
"I was waiting for you, but I didn't mean to scare you," he replied meekly. He usually backed down when confronted by Christina's anger.
"Why didn't you speak out when I entered the room?"
"I wanted to watch you without being observed."
"What on earth f or?"
"Even in your present condition you—you're still the most beautiful girl in England."
"Why, thank you, Tommy. But you know I don't like being spied upon, and I didn't expect to see you again today. Are you here for some special reason? If not, I'm tired and I plan just to have my dinner and then go to bed."
"Then why come in here and light the fire?"
"You can be very exasperatingl I'm going to eat in here, if you must know. I don't like having my meals in that big dining room all by myself."
Just then, one of the downstairs maids came into the room, but stopped when she saw Christina.
'1 was just going to light the lamps, miss."
"Well, go ahead. Then have Mrs. Ryan prepare my dinner, please."
"Mind if I join you?" Tommy said.
Christina arched an eyebrow, surprised at his request Perhaps he was willing to remain friends.
"Molly, have two dinners prepared, and you may serve them in here. And let Johnsy know I'm back, please, so she doesn't fret."
After the maid left, Christina moved to the couch, and Tommy sat down beside her.
"Christina, I have something to say, and I want you to hear me out before you answer."
She took a better look at him and noticed that he had matured during the past year. He had grown taller, and his face was less boyish. He'd even grown a moustache, and his voice sounded deeper.
"All right, Tommy. Go ahead—I'm listening."
"I've spent the whole afternoon overcoming the shock of your loving another man. I—I have come to the conclusion that I still love you. It doesn't matter that you will bear someone else's child. I still want to marry you. I will accept your child and raise him as if he were my own. Soon you will forget this other man. You will leam to love me—I know you will! And I won't ask you for an answer now. I want you to think about it for a while." He paused, and took her hand. "I can make you happy, Christina. You'd never regret becoming my wife."
"I'm sorry that you still feel this way about me," said Christina. "I hoped we could still be friends. But I can't marry you, Tommy. And I'll never change my mind. The love I have for the father of my child is too great Although I will never see him again, I can't forget him."
"Damn it! Christina—you can't live with a memory. He's far away, but I am here. Can't you find room in your heart for another love?"
"Not that kind of love."
"What about your child? I'd give him a name. He wouldn't have to go through life a bastard."
"The news of my pregnancy has probably traveled all through Halstead already. My child would be called a bastard even if I did marry you. Only his true father can right that wrong."
"But still, Crissy—the child will need a father. I'd love him—if only because he's yours. You must think of the child."
Christina moved away from him and stood by the fire. She hated to hurt Tommy.
"Tommy, I've already told you—"
"Don't, Christina—don't say it." He stood behind her and clutched her shoulders. "For God's sake—think about it! You're all I've ever dreamed about, ever wanted. You can't destroy my hopes so easily. I love you, Crissy—I can't help it!"
He turned and left the room without giving her a chance to answer him. A few minutes later, Molly brought in two meals, but had to take one back.
Christina ate at the gold-and-white marble-topped table before the couch, facing three empty chairs.
She felt stuffy and fat, lonely and miserable. Damn, why did Tommy have to make her feel so guilty? She didn't want to marry him, because she just couldn't bear living with another man after Philip. Why did Tommy have to love her? She was not going to marry him, or anyone else.
Pushing herself from the couch, Christina left the room and started up the stairs. She'd thought she could have her baby in peace at home, but she might as well have stayed in Cairo.
Chapter Twenty-six
IN the slow-moving months that followed, Christina busied herself preparing a nursery for Philip's son. She chose furniture, and decided on a light-blue-and-gold pattern for the drapes and easy chairs, and a light-blue carpet. A doorway was cut to connect her room with the baby's room.
The nursery was ready. All the little clothes that Christina had made were put away. And she was bored with nothing to do.
She couldn't ride, she couldn't help around the house. All she could do was read and take her walks. Her heaviness was becoming impossible to bear, and she wondered if she would ever be slim again. She turned her full-length mirror to the wall; she was so sick of looking at her rounded shape.
Tommy made her life miserable. He came to see her every day, and every day it was the same thing. He just wouldn't give up.
She told him over and over again that she wouldn't marry him, but he never listened. He always had new reasons why she should marry him, and closed his ears when she said she would not. She was getting sick of it.
It was late in the afternoon of a September's day when Christina finally made a decision. She went from room to room in search of Johnsy, and found her in the nursery dusting the furniture where there was no dust. Christina walked in and stood beside the cradle. She flicked the colorful clowns and toy soldiers hanging above the little bed, making them dance merrily in the air.
"Johnsy, I've got to get away from here," she said suddenly.
"Whatever are you talkin' about, love?"
"I just can't stay here any longer. Tommy is driving me crazy. It's the same thing over and over again, every tune he comes here. I can't stand it anymore."
"I won't allow 'im to see you, that's all. Til tell 'im Vs not welcome 'ere."
"You know he won't stand for that, and it would just give me more to worry about. I'm always nervous, waiting for him to show up."
"Aye, that's not good for the baby."
"I know, that's why I have to leave here. I'll go to London and rent a room at a hotel. I'll find a doctor to call when the time comes. But I've made up my mind. I'm going."
"You'll do no such thing. You'll not go to London—to a place filled with people who 'ave no time for anyone but themselves—an' you all by yourself," Johnsy replied, shaking her finger at Christina.
"But I've got to—I'll be all right"