The Perfect Arrangement (The Not So Saintly Sisters #4) - Annabelle Anders Page 0,46
after her!” Lillian urged him. She hated that he had this fear, but it was possibly doing greater harm to his sister than it had to either of them. He nodded.
“What should I tell her?” Oh, but men were clueless sometimes!
“Just listen to her. And then tell her the truth.”
“She… The truth?”
“All of it, Christian. She is not a child.” Lillian shooed him. “ If she doesn’t open her door for you, wait her out if you must. We’ll go to a gala some other day.”
He stepped forward, squeezed her hand gratefully and then rushed from the room.
Of course, his sister knew all of it. Of course, she did.
Lillian dropped onto the settee and slumped into the cushions. She should have thought of this sooner. She should have known a girl of such an age was far more aware than she would have been given credit for.
She was not surprised when she heard the sound of a slamming door echo from the bedchambers upstairs.
How was it that women could make a man feel so utterly guilty for transgressions they were utterly unaware of having committed?
After pounding on his sister’s bedchamber door for ten minutes, with only a few grunts and curses for an answer, Christian dropped onto the floor on the opposite side of the corridor, thinking to wait her out silently. Horace had apparently followed him upstairs as well and lowered himself to sit beside him.
“You are lucky to be a canine.” Christian rubbed his hand along the dog’s back.
Horace turned his head and tilted it questioningly. “Don’t act like you don’t know why.” Christian winced. Even his dog, it seemed, understood what was happening under this roof.
Christian had been so caught up in his own frustrations that he’d failed to notice what he was doing to his sister. The one person he’d sworn he would protect at all costs.
His breath caught.
If he hadn’t wanted to protect Bernadette so badly, he never would have met Lillian.
Lillian.
The first person he thought of in the morning and the last person he thought of before he fell asleep.
She was coming to care for him, and he hated knowing he was going to hurt her. Already, he wondered if it was too late.
The only answer was to send her away. Allow her all of that independence she had wanted when she’d accepted his proposal. They’d known one another for little more than a month. After less than one week, he’d rushed her headlong to the altar.
Not even an altar. To an anvil.
He’d not expected to know such closeness as the two of them shared in bed. Nor the in-between moments. For days now, he’d analyzed the events of his life and tried to see them in a different light. He’d tried to rationalize with himself, convince himself that his beliefs were naught more than nonsense.
And yet, he still could not shake the belief that tragedy awaited him any day now.
Horace yawned and, apparently sensing they could be sitting here for some time, sprawled out on the rug and fell asleep.
Christian quietly knocked the back of his head against the wall he leaned against. Was it possible that he loved her? That he’d fallen in love with her in such a short time?
Summoning her image in his mind required no imagination. It was as though she’d come along to fulfill every dream he’d ever had for love. Her courage, her steadiness, her comforting presence… everything. He felt as though he’d waited a lifetime to meet her.
He slammed his head harder against the wall and then winced.
“Dare the devil!” Christian remembered a voice shouting when he and his father had stopped into the local village pub. “Ha Ha! Not one, not two, but three strapping sons.” His father had pounded him on the back proudly.
“You’ll be sorry after all of you have died!” Christian replayed the words he’d shouted in his mind… words that could never be unsaid.
“You’ll just die too then.” Ah, yes, Calvin had responded in kind as they’d driven away, the last day of their father’s life. The memory had plagued him for years now. Even pounding his head against the wall didn’t help. There were some things that could never be chased away.
The door to Bernadette’s chamber squeaked, causing Christian to slide his spectacles back onto his face to meet eyes the same blue as his peeking out. His little sister frowned when they landed on his sorry visage, but she did not retreat or slam the door again.