Captive Bride

Chapter Twenty-nine

PHILIP pounded heavily on the single door. It was II opened by a dour-looking manservant. "Mr. Caxton, sir, 'tis good to see you again. Mr. Paul will be delighted."

"Where is that brother of mine?" Philip asked, handing over his greatcoat.

"In his study, Mr. Caxton. Shall I announce your arrival?"

"That won't be necessary," Philip replied, and walked down the short hallway until he came to the open door of Paul's study. "I can come another time if you are busy, little brother," Philip said mischievously.

Paul looked up from his papers and rose quickly, a bright grin on his handsome features.

"Damn, but it's good to see you again, Philip! When did you get back?" Paul came over and embraced his brother warmly.

"I only just arrived," Philip answered. He sat down in a large leather chair by the window.

"I wrote you a letter not too long ago, but apparently you sailed before it had a chance to reach you. Well, no matter—now that you're here. This calls for a drink," Paul said, walking to the small cabinet where he kept a decanter of brandy and a supply of glasses. "And congratulations are in order."

"I hardly think my coming home merits congratulations," Philip remarked dryly.

"I agree. Your coming home merely calls for a drink, but you deserve congratulations because I've seen your son, and he's a fine, healthy fellow. Looks just like you," Paul said cheerfully, handing Philip a drink.

"What the hell are you talking about, Paul? I have no son!"

"But I—I thought you knew! Isn't that why you came back to England—to find your child?" Paul asked.

"You're talking in riddles, Paul. I've already told you I don't have a son!" Philip returned. He was getting irritated.

"Then you're not going to claim him? You're just going to deny that he exists—pretend it never happened?"

"There is no son to claim—how many times must I say it! Now you had better come up with a good explanation, little brother. You are trying my patience sorely!" Philip stormed.

Paul burst out laughing and sank into a chair across from Philip. "I'll be damned. She didn't tell you, did she? You really don't know?"

"No, she didn't tell me, and who the hell is she?"

"Christina Wakefleld! Whom else have you lived with this past year?"

Shocked, Philip sank back into his chair.

"She bore a son three months ago at Victory. I naturally assumed you knew about it, since she went to your home to have the baby. I happened to go there and ran into her just as she was leaving to go back to her home. She seemed angry that I had learned about the baby. And she told me what you had done—how you kidnapped her and held her captive four months. How the hell could you do such a thing, Philip?"

"It was the only way I could have her. But why didn't she come back and tell me?" Philip said, more to himself than to Paul.

"She said you didn't want the child—that you didn't want to marry her."

"But I never told her—" He stopped when he remembered that he had told her just that. He'd said he hadn't brought her to his camp to bear bis children, and he'd told her in the beginning that he had no intention of marrying her.

"Just because the child looks like me doesn't prove he is mine. Christina could have conceived after she went back to her brother."

"Use your brain, Philip, and calculate the time. You took her when she first arrived in Cairo—in September, did you not?"

"Yes."

"Well, you kept her four months, she left you at the end of January, and she gave birth eight months later, at the end of September. So she had to conceive with you. And besides, Christina as much as told me the child was yours. Her exact words were, 'I gave birth to the son that Philip doesn't want,' and I might add that she intends to keep him and raise him herself."

"I have a son!" Philip exclaimed, slamming his fist down on the arm of the chair, his laughter ringing through the room. "I've got a son, Paul—a son! You say he looks like me?"

"He has your eyes and hair—he's a handsome boy. You couldn't ask for better."

"A son. And she wasn't even going to tell me. I will need one of your horses, PauL I'll be leaving first thing in the morning."

"You're going to Halstead?"

"Of course! I want my son. Christina will have to marry me now."

"If you didn't know of the child, why did you come back to England?" Paul asked while he refilled their glasses. "Did you come back for Christina?"

"I still want her, but I didn't come back to find her. I came back because there was nothing left for me in Egypt. Yasir is dead."

"I'm sorry, Philip. I never really knew Yasir or thought of him as my father. But I know you loved him. You must have taken it badly."

"I did, but Christina helped me through it."

"I wish I knew what happened between Christina and you," said Paul.

"Perhaps someday I will tell you, little brother, but not now. I'm not really sure what happened, myself."

Philip left at dawn the following morning, and had a chance to think things out while riding through the countryside.

Why hadn't Christina come back and told him when she learned she was carrying his child? Had she been too proud? And what of John? She must not have told her brother, or John would have called him out when they met in Cairo.

Well, John would soon know the truth. Philip wondered how he would take the news, for they had become good friends during their journey back to England. He also wondered how Christina would react when he showed up unexpectedly. She obviously hadn't wanted him to learn of his son. Or had she? Had she gone to Victory so that he would find out?

She was going to keep and raise the child. If she hated him, why keep his son to constantly remind her of him? Perhaps she actually cared for him!

If only he had told her he loved her. If only he hadn't waited to hear her say it first. Well, he would tell her this time, just as soon as he saw her.