Captive Bride (4 page)

He should have gone to her home in Halstead and courted her slowly. But that wasn't his way. Besides, he had never courted a woman before. He was used to getting what he wanted immediately, and he wanted Christina.

Christina was shaking uncontrollably when she ran back into the drawing room. She could still feel Philip Caxton's lips on hers, his arms holding her pinned against him, the hardness between his legs pressing against her. So that was how a man kissed a woman. She had always wondered what it would be like. She hadn't expected the strange feeling that Philip Caxton had aroused in her: a feeling that both frightened and excited her.

Lucidly she had remembered what her mother once told her: if a man accosted her and she wished to get away, pretend to faint and then kick him as hard as she could. It had worked, and she thanked her mother silently for her advice.

Christina calmed herself while her brother went for her cape. She told him she had a splitting headache and wished to leave immediately. When he came back they left for their carriage.

Looking up, she saw Philip Caxton on the balcony watching them leave. To think the man wanted her and had asked her to marry him knowing she disliked himl Of all the nerve, the outright audacity!

Now that she was safely away from Philip Caxton, she was furious. She had met him only yesterday, and today he had asked her to marry him—without one word of love. He declared only that he wanted her. He was even more impulsive than Peter or Sir Charles. They, at least, were gentlemen.

Thinking about it made her angrier. He was no gentleman! He acted like a barbarian! She wanted to go right back to that balcony and slap his arrogant face again.

Christina's feelings showed on her face, and John, who had been scrutinizing her quietly, finally interrupted her thoughts.

"Crissy, what on earth is the matter with you? You look fit to be tied. I thought you had a headache."

Focusing her attention on John, she absentmindedly put her hand to her forehead as if to feel for a pain, then burst forth heatedly.

"Headache! Yes, I had a headache, but I left him back on the balcony. John, that insufferable cad asked me to marry him."

"Who did?" John asked calmly.

"Philip Caxton, that's who! And he had the effrontery to kiss me—right there on the balcony."

John was amused. "It seems, dear sister, that you have encountered a man who knows what he wants and goes after it. You say he asked you to marry him, and after only one day's acquaintance? At least Browne and Buttler knew you a little longer than that. It looks as if Philip Caxton truly wants you."

Remembering his words vividly, Christina stormed more. "Yes, he wants me. He even told me so, with no mention of love—just lust!"

John laughed. It wasn't often that he saw his sister so angry. If Caxton had tried to molest Crissy, John wouldn't be so amused, and he would have had to call the man out

But he could hardly blame Caxton for a kiss and a proposal of marriage. He would have done the same if he had found a woman as beautiful as Crissy.

"You know, Crissy, more times than not, desire does come before love. Had Caxton said he was in love with you, it probably would have been a lie. What he did state was the truth—that he wanted you. When a man finds a woman he can't live without, then he knows he's in love. I believe that love has to grow slowly and takes more time than just two days, or even two weeks. However, it seems that Philip Caxton was prepared to love you, since he proposed marriage. Instead of getting so angry, you might have taken it as a compliment."

Calming down slowly, Christina leaned back on the seat and stared moodily off into the distance.

"Well, it doesn't matter, anyway. I'll never see Philip Caxton again. I should never have come to London in the first place. The men here don't know their own minds. They all just compete for attention: each one boasting that he's better than the next And men like Philip Caxton think anything can be theirs for the asking. This isn't the life for me. I guess I'm just a country girl at heart." Christina took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Oh, John, I'm glad we're going home."

Chapter

A pleasant breeze ruffled Christina's skirts as she and John boarded the ship that would carry them to Cairo. Christina was shown to a small cabin that she would have to share with another woman. John would be in the cabin directly across from hers. After their luggage was brought aboard, Christina went on deck for a last look at her beloved England. As she watched the seamen preparing to cast off, she recalled the frantic haste of the morning.

Christina had been awakened from another restless sleep by loud pounding on her door. Her brother entered the room and stood beside her bed, a forlorn expression on his handsome face. She noticed the paper he was holding as she wiped the sleep from her eyes.

"They came this morning, Crissy. I'm afraid I'll have to leave immediately."

"Who came?" she yawned. "What are you talking about?"

"My orders. They came sooner than expected," he replied, handing her the paper.

Christina read it slowly, shaking her head in disbelief. "Cairo!" she exclaimed. "But that's more than four thousand miles away."

"Yes, I know. I have to leave in an hour's time. Tm sorry I won't be able to escort you 'home, Crissy, but Howard said he would be glad to go with you. I'm going to miss you, little sister."

A smile crossed her lips. "No, you won't, big brother. I'm going with youl I decided a long time ago."

"That's ridiculous, Crissyl What would you do on a military post in Egypt? The weather is miserable. It's blazing hot and very unhealthy. You'd ruin your complexion!"

Throwing back the covers, Christina jumped from the bed and faced John, hands on hips and a stubborn tilt to her chin.

"I'm going, John Wakefield, and that's all there is to it! It was miserable at home last year with you gone. I won't stand it again. Besides, we won't be in Egypt all that long." She spun about, seeing her belongings scattered about the room. "Oh, Fm wasting time! You get out of here while I pack and get dressed. I won't be long, I promise."

Christina pushed John out of the room and called Mary to help with the packing. She had to hurry so John would have no excuse to leave her behind.

She was dressed and ready to leave in less than an hour. John made no more objections and even told her he was glad she was coming.

And now they were about to cast ofi for a strange land that Christina knew very little about.

Looking over the other passengers, she thought it strange that her brother was the only army officer on board.

"Crissy, you should have waited for me. I don't want you on deck alone againl"

Christina was startled at his words, but relaxed as John joined her at the rail. "Oh, John, you're being a mother hen. I'm perfectly all right up here alone."

"Nevertheless, during the journey I'd rather you not come on deck without an escort."

"Very well, if you insist," she gave in. "I was just thinking how strange it is that there are no other officers on board. I thought replacements usually traveled together."

"They usually do. I was wondering the same thing, but I won't know the answer until we reach Cairo."

"Maybe they want you for something special!" Christina ventured.

"I doubt that, Crissy, but we'll find out when we land." John put his arm around Christina's shoulder, and they watched England fall behind them as the ship sailed out to sea.

It -was a long, boring journey foT Christina. She hated confinement, and the ship offered few pastimes. She made friends with her cabinmate, a Mrs. Bigley. Mrs. Bigley had been visiting her children at school in England, and now was returning to Egypt. Her husband was colonel of the very regiment where John was posted. But Mrs. Bigley couldn't tell Christina why her brother was being sent to Cairo. She knew only that the other replacements wouldn't be leaving for a month.

Since there could be no answers until the journey was over, Christina put the mystery out of her mind until then. She spent much time reading in her cabin or on deck. When she had exhausted all the books she had brought with her, she made frequent visits to the ship's small library.

Christina attracted three young gentlemen admirers early in the voyage who did their best to monopolize her time.

One was an American. His name was William Dawson, and he was a nice young man with soft gray eyes and dark brown hair. His face was lean and rugged, and his voice was very deep, with the strangest accent. Christina could sit and listen to him for hours as he told her exciting tales of the wild western frontier.

Though she liked Mr. Dawson, Christina wasn't interested romantically in any of her three beaux. She had decided that most men were alike; they only wanted one thing from a woman. None seemed willing to respect her as an equal.

The days rolled slowly by without incident. Christina could hardly believe it when they finally reached Egypt The weather had turned much hotter as they moved south, and she was grateful for the summer clothes she had brought. John had sent for the rest of their clothes, but the trunks wouldn't arrive until next month.

Their ship docked in Alexandria the following morning. Christina couldn't wait to put her feet on solid earth again, but the dock was so crowded with Egyptians that disembarking passengers had to fight their way through the crowded mass.

John and Christina were standing on deck with their luggage when Mrs. Bigley came up and took Christina's hand. "My dear, do you remember when we discussed your brother's orders at the beginning of our voyage? Well, it has puzzled me ever since. My husband, Colonel Bigley, will be meeting me here, and it will be the first thing I ask him. If anyone knows why your brother was sent here early, my husband does. If you care to stay with me until I locate him, then you can learn the answer, too."

"Yes, of course," said Christina. "I'm dying to know, and I'm sure John is, too."

Mrs. Bigley waved to a portly gentleman in his late forties who must be her husband, the colonel. They walked down the gangplank toward him, and he met them on the dock. He embraced his wife and kissed her full on the lips.

"Godawful lonely here without you, love," the colonel said, holding his wife closely.

"I've missed you, too, love. I would like you to meet Lieutenant John Wakefield and his sister, Christina Wake-field." She looked to her husband. "Colonel Bigley."

John and the colonel saluted each other. "What on earth are you doing here a month early, Lieutenant? The replacements aren't expected to arrive until next month," Colonel Bigley said.

John said, "I was hoping you could answer that question for me, sir."

"What? You mean to tell me you don't know why you're here? Do you have your orders with you?"

"Yes, sir." John pulled his orders from the inside of his coat and handed them to the colonel.

After Colonel Bigley read the orders, he looked at John with a puzzled expression on his sunburned face. "Sorry, son, but I can't help you. All I can tell you is, we didn't send for you. Do you have any enemies in England who might have wanted you out of the country?"

John looked shocked. "I hadn't thought of that, sir. I have no enemies I know of."

"This is most unusual, but now that you're here, you must join us for some refreshment," Colonel Bigley said, drawing his wife's arm through his. "The train for Cairo doesn't leave for another two hours."

Colonel Bigley led the way through the crowd to a small caf6. They had a leisurely lunch in an open patio, and then left for the station.

William Dawson was there to say good-bye to Christina. He would call on her when he came to Cairo in a week's time, he said, and asked her not to promise all her time to other swains.

The train ride was hot and uncomfortable. It amused Christina that, with all the trains in England, she had had to come halfway across the world to ride on one. She much preferred the cool comfort of a coach, however, though it was a bit bumpy at times.

Mrs. Bigley and Christina shared a seat in the overcrowded salon. "I've heard there are many dangerous outlaws in the desert. Is it true that the Bedouin tribes make slaves of their captives?" Christina asked Mrs. Bigley nervously.

"It's all quite true, my dear," Mrs. Bigley returned. "But don't worry about it. The outlaw tribes fear Her Majesty's Army, as well they should! They hide in the Arabian Desert, which is quite far from Cairo."

"Well, that certainly is a relief," Christina sighed.

The train pulled into Cairo before nightfall. The Bigleys showed Christina and John to a hotel.

"After you get settled in your quarters, I'll show you the city in its entirety, and we can go to the Opera House," said Mrs. Bigley kindly. "Did you know that it was right here that the famous opera Aida was first produced, to celebrate the opening of the Suez Canal?"

"I didn't know, but I haven't read too much about this country," Christina replied. She was too tired to be overly interested in anything tonight. She and John thanked the Bigleys for their kindness, and bade them goodnight. John ordered a light supper, but Christina could eat very little, and retired early.

Her room was at the opposite end of the hall from John's, and a hot bath awaited her. She quickly shed her clothes and slid into the tub. This is heaven, she thought! The heat and crowded railway car had made her feel sticky and dirty. But now she luxuriated in the steaming hot water.

She lay there for an hour before rinsing off and donning her nightdress. The hot water had relaxed her, and she had no trouble falling off to sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night Christina was awakened from a peaceful sleep by a noise in her room. She opened her eyes to see a tall figure standing above her. Christina wondered what on earth John was doing standing beside her bed looking down at her in the dark. But then she realized it couldn't be John. This man was taller than John, and he had something covering his face.

She started to scream, but before she could make a sound, a huge hand clamped down over her mouth. She tried to push him away, but the man was too strong for her.