Once Upon an Irritatingly Magical Kiss by Bree Wolf

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A Tumultuous Farewell

The moment Thorne awoke the following morning, his gaze immediately moved to the door connecting his own chamber to that of his wife. He longed to see her and was halfway across the room, his hand lifted to knock, before he stopped himself. Perhaps he ought to give her more time to herself in order to settle in. He doubted she would appreciate it if he were to simply burst into her chambers early in the morning before she had any chance to dress herself.

Although he had to admit that the thought was appealing!

Yet in order to prove his dear wife wrong, Thorne refrained from acting upon that impulse and instead dressed himself and then headed downstairs for breakfast. A certain sense of unease lingered in his bones, and he found himself pacing the breakfast parlor until the door opened and Christina entered.

“Good morning, Chris,” he greeted her, finding utter delight in this simple way of communication between them. No matter what she might honestly think of him, the beauty of their union was that they were able to speak to each other. “How did you sleep?” He could not help but wink at her, knowing that it would upset her.

Not because she truly was upset though, but simply because it seemed that she wanted to be upset with him.

And he had no intention of disappointing her.

“Oh, I slept quite well,” she replied as she seated herself across from him. “You don’t sit at the head of the table?” She glanced from him to the empty seat that should have been his.

Pulling out his own chair, Thorne shook his head. “I decided against it. I thought it would be more pleasant if we sat…closer together.” He winked at her. “And I thought seating myself here would discourage you from choosing your own seat at the other end of the table. It would seem my predictions were correct.”

Accepting a cup of tea, she looked at him curiously. “Does this mean I now need to be on my guard? To be manipulated by my own husband?”

He offered her a mock frown. “Manipulated is such an ugly word. I prefer to think of it as evidence that I simply know you better than you like to admit.”

Instead of answering, Christina sipped her tea, a calculating look in her eyes as though she were adjusting her impression of him. “Do you have any plans for today?”

Thorne swallowed, hoping that today would not end in a disaster. “In fact, I do.” He reached for his own cup, savoring the hot liquid as it flowed over his tongue. “As I told you last night, I have purchased a new estate, and I would very much like for you to see it.”

Christina paused. “You wish to travel there today?” A slight frown came to her face, and he could see that she suspected that he was holding something back.

Which, of course, he was.

Thorne nodded. “Would you mind? Of course, if you like we can stop by at your parents’ house, bid everyone farewell and extend an invitation for them to visit us at their earliest convenience.”

Although her features had tensed at the thought of saying goodbye to her family, a small smile teased the corners of her mouth when he spoke of inviting them to their new home. “You would not mind?”

It seemed that perhaps he had not quite yet passed her test. “They are your family, and I hope that one day they will see me as family as well. Our home shall always be open to them.”

That small smile upon her face slowly grew as she looked at him, her blue eyes beginning to sparkle in a way that warmed his heart. “Perhaps you are not as bad as I thought after all,” she told him with a teasing look in her eyes.

“I will take that as a compliment,” Thorne told her, grateful for the deeper meaning of those few simple words.

His wife nodded. “You should. You definitely should.”

While Thorne’s staff busied themselves with packing their belongings that morning, Thorne escorted his new wife to her family’s townhouse. They had sent quick notes to Lord and Lady Barrington as well as Lord and Lady Pemberton asking them to meet them there as well.

Thus, the whole family was gathered when they arrived.

Thorne was well aware of the cautious looks her two married sisters cast in his direction, their eyes lingering upon their sister’s face before turning to him. He saw questions in their eyes that whispered of concern, and he hoped that Christina would put their minds at ease once they had a chance to speak to one another.

Lord Whickerton and his son proved equally curious about how Christina had fared these past few hours as his wife. They were less direct in their approach; however, Christina’s brother once more uttered a kindly phrased warning.

But a warning, nonetheless.

Knowing that their hostility toward him as well as their distrust stemmed from a place of deepest love for one of their own made it easier for Thorne not to feel offended. What he witnessed was loyalty and devotion, traits that were rare in the world and therefore, all the more precious. He knew it to be so because he could not recall ever having had anyone to stand by him the way Christina’s family stood by her.

“Before you leave,” the youngest Whickerton sister Harriet said to Christina, her green eyes slightly misted with tears, “I have something to give to you. I hope it will make you smile, and I hope it will make you remember me.” She quickly slipped out of the drawing room and into the hall, only to reappear a moment later, a cage in her hand and a slightly ruffled-looking parrot within.

“Oh, you cannot be serious!” Christina exclaimed the moment her eyes fell on the feathered animal. “You must be jesting!” Lifting her hands as though in defense, she backed away.

Thorne frowned, looking from his wife to her sister and then at the parrot. “You don’t like birds?” he inquired carefully, sensing a deeper meaning behind this rather unexpected gift.

Christina looked at him. “I don’t like that bird!”

“Why not?”

Her jaw dropped in utter disbelief as though the reason should be obvious. He could see that she was all but searching for words to explain but could not discover any that would do her objections justice.

“His name is King Arthur,” Harriet explained as she moved farther into the room holding the cage out to Christina. Her gaze moved to Thorne when she realized that Christina would not accept her gift. “He is a most loyal and watchful friend, and he will make you smile when you most need it.” With another glance at Christina, she turned to him and held out the cage. “Please, take it with you. I know you shall take good care of him until I come to visit.”

With another look at his fuming wife, Thorne finally took the cage, wondering if she would hold it against him. “Thank you for your…kindness, Lady Harriet.” He looked at the ruffled-looking parrot, its ruby-red feathers shimmering and its eyes wide as it seemed to consider all those crowded around it. “King Arthur,” Thorne mumbled incredulously. “What a...a fitting name.”

Lady Harriet clapped her hands. “Yes, I thought so too.”

Thorne was about to reply when the parrot suddenly stretched and turned its head. “Pretty bird. Pretty bird.”

Thorne almost dropped the cage. “It speaks?”

Lady Harriet nodded eagerly. “Yes, he does. He’s a most clever bird.”

Looking around at his wife’s family, Thorne spied expressions of suppressed laughter on almost every face. It would seem that the bird and Lady Harriet’s devotion to it were a much-discussed topic. While she truly seemed to adore it, her family appeared to consider the bird a bit of a nuisance or at least a welcome source of amusement.

Thorne turned to look at his new sister-in-law. “Thank you, Lady Harriet, for such a wonderful gift. I can see that he means a lot to you, and I promise that we shall take good care of him.”

Fresh tears brimmed in Lady Harriet’s eyes, and she swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she choked out. “Thank you so much.”

Turning to look at his wife, Thorne could see that Christina had finally realized the meaning of her sister's gift. While Christina might not like the bird, Lady Harriet was clearly giving away a dear friend, thus stating clearly how much her sister meant to her and how deeply she would be missed.

The two sisters embraced, tears running down both their cheeks. “You know I can’t stand that bird,” Christina whispered before pulling away and brushing the tears off her little sister’s face. “However, I’m glad you’re not giving me the toad.”

Lady Harriet laughed, and then everyone else joined in. As though not wishing to be excluded, the parrot’s head snapped up. “The toad. The toad,” King Arthur squawked, a strangely serious expression upon his feathered face.

Thorne grinned. “I think I like him.” That statement unfortunately earned him a somewhat incredulous look from his wife.

After another half hour of tearful embraces and warmest well wishes, Thorne finally escorted his wife into the carriage. To her dismay, he seated the parrot beside him before they turned to wave to her family as the carriage began to rumble down the street.

After turning a corner, Christina finally sat back in her seat as her eyes fell on their traveling companion. “I cannot believe she made me take the bird.”

Thorne chuckled. “She clearly meant well. It is most obvious that she adores King Arthur.”

His wife rolled her eyes. “Must you call it that?”

Thorne shrugged. “It’s the bird’s name. Why ever not?”

“It’s such a silly name for a bird!”

“What would you call him then?” Thorne regarded the bird curiously, who in turn seemed to be regarding them with just as much interest. “What does one call a parrot?”

“I don’t know.” Christina threw up her hands. “Biscuits? It seems the only thing that blasted bird eats are almond biscuits.” She leaned forward in her seat, a most serious expression coming to her face as she lifted her right forefinger. “But mind you, if they are just a tad too brown, it won’t touch them!” Again, throwing up her hands, she sank back into her seat.

King Arthur turned his head from side to side and regarded Christina with a curious frown. “Biscuits!” He squawked. “Biscuits!”

Thorne laughed. “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps we should rename him.” He glanced at Christina. “Do you think your sister would mind?”

“You honestly want to call him Biscuits? I was jesting!”

Thorne shrugged. “I cannot help but think that he likes the name. Perhaps he simply feels misunderstood.”

“He’s a bird! He can’t feel mis—”

“Biscuits! Biscuits!”

Thorne laughed. “There you have it. I think he likes Biscuits.”

Christina slumped back in her seat. “Very well. If you insist.” She cast a pointed look at him. “He is your responsibility. I will not feed that thing.”

Crossing his legs at the ankles, Thorne regarded her curiously. “Why do you dislike him so much?”

“You would, too, if you had to live with him these past few weeks.” Sighing in a rather exhausted fashion, she briefly closed her eyes. “Of course, Harriet does not keep him in that cage all day. After all, a bird needs to spread its wings. And for reasons I cannot fathom that blasted bird always somehow ended up in my chamber.” She sat up, her jaw slightly dropped as she stared at him, once again lost for words as she no doubt pictured the havoc Biscuits had wreaked upon her bedchamber. “Feathers everywhere! Honestly, the blasted bird should be bald. Where does he keep them? He shredded my best gown, and then he destroyed my—” Quite abruptly, Christina broke off. Her jaw tensed, and her gaze dropped from his as though she had been about to say something she did not wish for him to know.

Thorne frowned. “What did he destroy?”

Sighing, Christina shook her head. “Nothing. It was nothing.” She cast him a forced smile and then turned to look out the window.

Although wishing to ask, to press her for more information, Thorne did not. He could tell from the way she had turned away that she would not volunteer anything further. Clearly, what had happened had deeply upset her. Yet Thorne could not imagine what the bird could possibly have destroyed that would have cemented Christina’s opinion of him in such a way.

It had to have been something very, very dear to her.

But what?