Once Upon an Irritatingly Magical Kiss by Bree Wolf
Chapter Sixteen
A Mother’s Counsel
To her utter shame, Christina found herself looking forward to each and every visit of her betrothed. Although they did not know each other well, an odd honesty existed between them.
With gentlemen of the ton, Christina had always experienced somewhat strained conversations, as though both sides were constantly on their guard, considering every word well before speaking it. She had never been certain how much truth lingered in the other’s words, wondering even after weeks of conversations who the other person truly was.
Of course, Christina’s knowledge of Mr. Sharpe’s character as well as past was still severely limited; however, she could not help but feel as though she was slowly becoming acquainted with the man he was at heart…not the man he might be trying to portray. It was a thought that often calmed the rapid beating of her heart whenever Christina thought of her impending nuptials. Despite everything, she was marrying a complete stranger, a man from a world quite unlike her own. Yes, it worried her, and yet part of her was looking forward to this new life that had so unexpectedly opened up to her.
To Christina’s dismay, her family was less convinced. Her father had told her in no uncertain terms that should she choose to end the engagement at any time, he would support her. She knew he wanted her to know that she had every option, that as soon as she had doubts, she was free to change her mind. Christina loved her father for his devotion and loyalty, but his own doubts also served to feed hers.
Because, of course, she had doubts. How could she not? Of course, there were moments when she worried she was making a monumental mistake. Still, whenever she thought of changing her mind, there was always something that held her back.
She could not quite say what it was, but it was enough to keep her from reconsidering.
Her sisters were no better, constantly urging her to think things through, to not rush into anything. Christina could see that they were worried; however, no objection they brought forth truly unsettled Christina.
Under the circumstances, she was thinking that she was walking into this marriage with her eyes wide open. Far more often than not, women did not know what would await them after their vows were spoken. With Mr. Sharpe, however, Christina believed to have a fairly accurate idea of what life with him would be like. Indeed, his character was not unlike her own. Perhaps that was why they managed to communicate with such ease.
Only Grandma Edie refrained from questioning Christina’s decision. Indeed, her grandmother said little on the subject. Every now and then, she would pat Christina’s hand, smile at her and assure her that all would be well.
It often seemed as though her grandmother knew more than everyone else. How that was possible she could not begin to fathom. However, over the course of her life, she had learned to trust her grandmother’s instincts. It seemed they were rarely wrong, and Christina drew strength from the certainty that lingered in her grandmother’s steady gaze.
Christina looked up as a knock sounded on her door. “Come in,” she called and set down her quill. She had been in the process of writing to her aunt in France, unable to find the right words, afraid that Aunt Francine would be disappointed in her. After all, her aunt had all but fled England, leaving behind a husband and her entire family, in order to be who she was.
“Do you have a moment?” Christina’s mother asked as she stepped over the threshold. A small smile lingered upon her soft features, and the hand that moved to close the door seemed to tremble ever so slightly.
“Of course, Mother.” Christina rose from her chair and moved over to meet her mother halfway. “Are you all right? You seem…unwell somehow.”
Her mother heaved a deep breath into her lungs before her hands reached out and grasped Christina’s. Yes, they were indeed trembling. “There is something I need to speak to you about.” Her words came fast, and yet Christina heard reluctance in her mother’s voice.
“Is it about Mr. Sharpe?” she inquired, surprised that her mother would seek her out now with barely a fortnight left before the very day. “Will you, too, urge me to reconsider?”
A warm smile came to her mother’s face, and the trembles in her hands ceased as she looked upon Christina, her eyes beginning to glow in a way they sometimes did when she looked upon one of her children. “You’ve become a most determined young woman,” she said rather quietly as though more to herself than Christina. “You know what you want, and you’re not afraid to go out into the world and claim it.” Her eyes settled upon Christina’s, truly seeing her now. “I am glad for it, but I also know that there is another side of the medallion for determination can often turn into stubbornness.”
Christina chuckled despite herself. “Are you calling me stubborn?”
Her mother sighed. “I am not certain. That is precisely why I’m here. I need to know why you chose to marry him. I’ve watched you most carefully, and I am uncertain whether you are simply determined to marry him because you genuinely want to or if you are too stubborn to change your mind because you believe you must not.” The question, daring and unwavering, lingered in her mother’s gaze as she looked at her daughter with those seeing eyes of hers. It was a way mothers often looked at their children as though they could see into their hearts no matter how hard their children tried to shield them.
Christina frowned, trying to ignore the soft shiver that snaked down her back. “I’m not certain I know what you speak of.”
Her mother’s hands clasped more tightly over her own. “Are you doing this for yourself? Or for Sarah?” Her brows rose meaningfully, letting her know without a doubt that she was well aware of the conflict that existed within Christina’s heart.
Christina heaved a deep sigh, wishing she did not have to defend her decision to her mother. Always had her mother had a way of reading between the lines and understanding with perfect clarity what it was Christina did not dare to admit to herself. “Does it matter? Does there need to be a difference? Perhaps I’m doing this for myself as well as her.”
“Are you?” her mother pressed, something determined in the way she looked at Christina. Or should it be called stubbornness instead? Where was the difference?
“Why don’t you tell me what objections you have?” Christina replied instead of answering her mother’s question, uncertain if whatever she might say would satisfy her mother. “Why is it that you do not want me to marry him?”
For a moment, her mother remained quiet. Then she inhaled a slow breath as though she needed strength for what she was about to say. “Come, sit with me.” Seating herself at the foot of Christina’s bed, she urged her daughter to sit down beside her.
Christina watched her mother carefully as moment after moment slowly ticked by. There was a hint of reluctance and perhaps a touch of mortification upon her mother’s face as she tried to find the right words to voice what was on her mind. Christina felt herself grow tenser with each moment that passed, beginning to get worried about what aspect of Mr. Sharpe’s character or perhaps of married life itself she had failed to consider.
After a small eternity, her mother finally spoke, her gaze now steady despite the hint of hesitation in her voice. “You may or may not be aware of this—perhaps you’ve already spoken to Louisa or Leonora—however, there are…certain intimacies shared between husband and wife that you need to consider.” Her mother swallowed, and Christina could not help but think that she was relieved to have said what she had.
Christina frowned. “What do you mean?” Of course, she had observed heated looks exchanged between spouses—or even strangers at a ball—as well as passionate embraces and the occasional kiss between her parents as well as her sisters and their husbands. What else was there?
From comments she had overheard here and there, Christina deduced that the marriage bed might be a somewhat different matter; however, would it not be the same no matter whom she married?
For a moment, her mother looked down at their linked hands and inhaled a deep breath. Then she looked up again, the look of hesitation once more upon her face. “My dear, you know that I love your father dearly and, therefore, of course, I do not mind the moments when he pulls me into his arms. Quite on the contrary, I cherish them.” A smile full of longing and joy came to her mother’s face that Christina felt her own heart skip a beat, a stab of envy distracting it from its normal rhythm. “I married him because I loved him, and I love him still. Every day is more beautiful because he is with me and I am with him.” Her mother’s hands no longer trembled but were warm and steady upon her own. “That is what marriage is supposed to be. I cannot imagine how it might feel if the person to pull me into his arms were someone I did not care for. I know that most marriages begin like that. It is the way of the world. However, I do not even want to contemplate such a life. I don’t want to live with a stranger, always finding myself tensing when he draws near. After all, who would feel comfortable sharing anything intimate with someone one does not hold to heart?”
Christina bowed her head as her mother’s words slowly sank in. The Whickertons marry for love. It was a family tradition, and quite obviously, it was one based on sound reasoning. The question was, did she care for Mr. Sharpe enough to feel comfortable with him?
Christina did not know. Although she did enjoy his company, she could not be certain how she would feel if he ever…kissed her. Embraced her. Admittedly, in the library, he had drawn close, remarkably close, and as far as Christina remembered, she had not been reluctant. Yes, her heart had hammered wildly in her chest, and yet it had not been out of reluctance, had it? In fact, she believed that she had been tempted in that moment. Did that mean she would feel comfortable being his wife…in every way?
Her mother’s hand squeezed hers. “I suggest you speak to your sisters.” A youthful smile came to her mother’s face. “After all, I am an old woman. I have been married for decades, and perhaps it would be more helpful for you to speak to someone who has only just started upon the journey you, too, are determined to embark upon. Ask them and hear their answers.” Her mother’s eyes became imploring. “There is no rush. Please, think this through for it cannot be undone once you have made your choice.”
Christina nodded, unable to utter a reply. Still, she had given her word, and the wedding was to take place in less than a fortnight. If she went back on her promise now, would she rob herself of her only chance to ever be married? Would this be the final scandal to ruin her family’s good name?
“Be absolutely certain of what you want, my dear,” her mother urged, something lingering in her gaze as though she, too, had once stood at the same fork in the road. “Marriage cannot be undone, and sometimes we find ourselves swept off our feet by a charming smile and kind words only to discover later that no true bond exists, especially not one that would last a lifetime.”
Christina looked more closely at her mother, feeling the sudden need to ask for more details, sensing that there was more her mother was not telling her. Still, whatever it was that lived in her mother’s past seemed well shielded, buried almost, and she knew that her questions would not be rewarded with answers.
“Speak to your sisters, please.”
Smiling at her mother, Christina nodded. “I will.” Perhaps it would be wise to do so. Of course, she had a fairly good idea of what Louisa and Leonora would say. Especially Leonora seemed terribly upset by the idea of Christina marrying Mr. Sharpe. After what her sister had been through, Christina was not genuinely truly surprised. Yes, Leonora had experienced forced intimacy with a stranger, and it had wounded her in ways Christina could not even begin to understand. Only her new husband’s kindness and patience had given her the strength to rise above and once again stand tall.
Yes, Christina thought. Perhaps it would be wise to speak to her sisters and find herself better prepared for what might await her.