Once Upon an Irritatingly Magical Kiss by Bree Wolf

Chapter Two

Strong Objections

“What happened?” Christina asked as she thrust Sarah’s hat and gloves into a footman’s face. “You look pale. Is something wrong?” Her hands reached for Sarah’s, her heart beating faster as she took note of the strain lingering upon her friend’s face.

Sarah heaved a deep sigh, and her eyes closed briefly as though she needed a moment to comport herself. “I don’t even know where to begin.” The words tumbled from her lips on a rushed breath, and for a moment, Christina worried that her friend might collapse in her arms.

Sarah had never been bold and daring, every step she took measured by her parents’ demands and expectations. Yet Christina had never seen her so…frail and resigned as she had seemed lately. Something was most definitely wrong.

Grasping Sarah’s hands, Christina pulled her friend into the drawing room and closed the door. Her eyes darted to her grandmother, seated in a cushioned armchair near the fireplace. Her eyes were closed in slumber, and her chin rested upon her chest, a mild snore filling the room.

“Tell me what happened,” Christina urged her friend, pushing her down onto the settee and then sitting down next to her, their hands still entwined.

Sarah heaved another deep sigh. “It seems I am to be married,” she told Christina with an almost anguished look in her eyes before her gaze fell and she bowed her head in defeat.

Christina felt anger bubbling up in her veins. “Who? Who did your mother choose this time?”

Not long ago, Sarah and her family had lived in the townhouse next door. For many years, the families had been close, Sarah coming and going as one of them, through a gap in the hedge between the two properties, an easy gateway. Blissful years had been spent like that, but had come to an end when Sarah’s father, Lord Hartmore, had been forced to reveal his severe gambling debts. The family had had no choice but to sell their townhouse and move to a more affordable neighborhood.

Ever since, Sarah’s mother had been most devoted to finding her daughter a wealthy husband in order to pay back her husband’s debts. Even Sarah’s dowry had been used for this purpose, leaving her with nothing, no prospects on the marriage mart. All she now had to recommend her were her father’s position as well as her beautiful face and kind character. Unfortunately, it seemed those were not enough to tempt an honorable gentleman.

As far as Christina knew, Sarah had not yet received any offers of marriage. In turn, it had made her mother desperate, going to great and somewhat questionable lengths in order to see her daughter married.

Earlier this year, Lady Hartmore had arranged for her daughter to be compromised by Lord Barrington in order to force them into marriage. However, by that time, Lord Barrington had already been in love with Christina’s elder sister Louisa, a fact which had rendered Lady Hartmore’s attempt unsuccessful.

Sarah’s hands tightened upon Christina’s. “His name is Mr. Thorne Sharpe,” her friend replied on a trembling breath. “He is from the North. As far as I know, he owns a cotton mill in Manchester and intends to open more. He says, it is a thriving town that—”

Christina stared at her friend. “A cotton mill? He is in trade?” It was unthinkable! “Was he the man your father introduced you to the other night?” Christina remembered him well. He had struck her as…misplaced, for lack of a better word. With one glance, she had seen that he did not belong, that he was not one of them.

Not a gentleman.

Sarah nodded, tears glistening in her eyes. “He intends to return to Manchester.”

Her friend’s words cut deep. “Manchester?” In Christina’s mind, it was a place of factories, smoke-filled skies and dirt roads. “But he cannot!” The thought of losing Sarah was unbearable. They had known each other since before she could remember. Always had Sarah been there.

Always.

Straightening her shoulders, Sarah lifted her chin. “I admit he seemed fairly…decent and—”

“It does not matter!” Christina exclaimed, feeling her heart beat painfully in her chest. “You cannot leave. Your parents cannot make you marry him. Who knows what kind of man he is! He could be—” Words failed her, and for the first time in a long time, Christina realized that her knowledge of the world was severely limited. It had never bothered her before, but it did now.

Sarah’s eyes hardened. “I do not have much of a choice,” she told Christina gently as though her friend were the one in need of comfort. “Debtors keep knocking on our door, and—”

“That is not your fault! Your father should—”

Sarah’s hands tightened upon Christina’s, cutting off her words. “My family needs this. I need this.” Her chest rose and fell with a deep breath. “You know that I have no other choice. No gentleman wants to marry me, considering our reduced circumstances. It is the way of the world, is it not? Perhaps I ought to consider myself fortunate that Mr. Sharpe has come to town and is willing to marry me despite my father’s debts, despite the fact that he cannot give me a dowry.”

“Do not think like that, Sarah. You have so much to offer. You’re kind and devoted. You’re beautiful. You are—”

Sarah smiled at her sweetly. “You know as well as I do that that does not matter. Marriages are arranged for mutual benefit. It has always been thus.” Her smile deepened and took on a wistful note. “Not everyone can be as your parents are. Not everyone can marry for love.” Again, her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “I shall be fine. Mr. Sharpe appears to be a kind man, no matter his birth or standing. There is no reason why I should not be happy with him.” Still, Sarah’s voice faltered on the last words, and Christina knew that her friend harbored doubts she was not willing to admit to.

“You cannot know that,” Christina replied, torn between cautioning her friend with regard to preventing such a marriage and giving her comfort and strength in order to see it through. Yes, Christina knew that not everyone was like her parents. Indeed, she and her sisters were fortunate that their parents insisted they marry for love. It was a Whickerton tradition despite the fact that they were only the second generation to uphold it.

“You’re right,” Sarah admitted. “But what I do know is that my family needs this. We shall be ruined if I don’t make an advantageous match, and whatever Mr. Sharpe may be, his fortunes will save us. It is as simple as that.” Tears burned in her eyes, and Christina could see that Sarah was holding on by a thread. Before Christina could say another word, Sarah pushed to her feet, dabbing a handkerchief to her eyes. “I better leave. My mother is expecting me home. She says there is much to be done before…” A tight smile came to her face as she stepped toward the door. “Thank you for listening. You are the dearest friend I’ve ever had.” And with that, Sarah turned on her heel and left.

“What will you do?” came Grandma Edie’s voice from behind her.

Christina sighed, turning to look upon her grandmother. “I knew you weren’t sleeping. Why did you pretend to?”

Grinning in that mischievous way of hers, completely unbefitting her age, Grandma Edie said, “Would you not say it proved to be a good idea? Would you and Sarah have spoken as freely as you did had you known I was listening?”

Christina chuckled, then sat down in the armchair opposite her grandmother. “Any pearls of wisdom?”

Grandma Edie leaned forward and gently patted Christina’s hand. “I cannot tell you what to do or what not to do, my dear. However, generally I find that listening to one’s instincts is never wrong.”

Looking at her grandmother, Christina nodded. “I feel I should stop this from happening.” She held her grandmother’s gaze, waiting for her to say something. When she did not, Christina continued, “As angry as I am with Sarah’s mother, I understand why Lady Hartmore is pushing for this marriage. Yes, they are in debt, severely, and without this marriage…” She shook her head. “Still, there must be some other way. She cannot marry this man.”

Grandma Edie’s brows drew down into a frown as she regarded Christina carefully. “Why do you object to the man? Judging from the way you speak, I suppose you have other reasons aside from his upbringing in the far north as well as his occupation?”

Christina nodded, remembering the evening a few days ago. “I’ve seen him here and there at a ball,” she replied, drawing upon her memories, trying to see his face the way he had looked across the ballroom at her and Sarah. “I’ve never taken much notice of him as I’ve merely seen him pass by. However, a few days ago, I was there when Lord Hartmore introduced Sarah to him. I watched and I…” Somehow, Christina knew that Sarah ought not marry Mr. Sharpe; however, it seemed she did not possess the words to explain why exactly she felt so strongly about it.

“What impression did you get of him?” Grandma Edie asked as she tapped her fingers upon the armrest of her chair. “Did you speak to him yourself?”

Sighing, Christina shook her head. “I did not. However, I…” She could not quite say what it was, but something lurked in her memory, far back, whispers she had heard, but had not been meant to. “Men of trade,” she began, looking at her grandmother, “are they different from gentlemen?”

Her grandmother’s eyes narrowed in a way that whispered of intrigue. “Different? Well, I suppose it’s safe to say that each man is different from any other. The same holds true for women, would you not agree?”

Christina nodded, feeling her grandmother’s eyes upon her, aware of the way she was watching, waiting for Christina to explain herself more fully. “I’ve heard it whispered,” Christina began, uncertain what precisely it was she wanted to say, “by gossips, of course, that common men make different husbands. I’ve heard matrons speak quietly about it to one another, about the way they treat their wives, that they are not considerate and aware of a lady’s sensibilities.”

Grandma Edie chuckled. “My dear sweet child, Mr. Sharpe may not possess the same manners as the gently bred men of your acquaintance; however, that does not mean he’s not capable of kindness and respect.” She cocked her head to the side, a quizzical expression coming to her eyes. “Is that what you believe? That somehow some people are simply better than others? Born better?”

Frowning, Christina shook her head. “Of course not, Grandmother. However, the way we grow up shapes who we are, does it not? If Mr. Sharpe grew up among thugs and thieves, what does that make him? Is he truly capable of treating Sarah with the kind of respect she deserves? What would a marriage to him be like for her?” Christina shook her head, unwilling to picture such a possibility. “She’s too…gentle and kind and…a man like that would crush her spirit. I am certain of it.”

“And you?” her grandmother inquired, a daring gleam coming to her eyes. “Would you consider yourself up for the task? Would you expect to see your own spirits crushed as well?”

Christina snorted, knowing it was not ladylike, but also knowing that her grandmother would not mind. “Of course not!” Although she could not be certain for she did not know what it would mean to be married to such a man.

Throughout her life, every once in a while, Christina had observed moments between a husband and his wife—at a ball or a picnic—that had made her wonder. She had seen a man grasp his wife’s arm and tug her toward him, angry words falling from his lips. The wife’s eyes had been open wide, her skin pale, and she had stood before him, bowing her head, accepting defeat. Christina knew that some husbands dominated their wives, that some even raised their hands to them. She had never seen it, but she had heard the whispers, and she could not help but wonder if Mr. Sharpe was such a man.

“I know that look,” Grandma Edie remarked with a grin. “Tell me.”

Smiling sweetly at her grandmother, Christina rose to her feet. “I have not the slightest inkling what you are speaking about.”

Her grandmother laughed. “I may be old, but I’ve known you since the day you were born. You cannot fool me, nor do you seem to wish to.” Her eyes twinkled. “Good luck.”

Christina smiled at her and then slipped out the door, knowing that she could not simply stand back and see her friend sacrificed to her parents’ ambitions. No, she needed to do something. She needed to—

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Christina remembered the pleading sound in her aunt’s voice as she had begged her older sister for her assistance. Aunt Francine had found herself trapped in a marriage she had been unable to bear a moment longer. However, Aunt Francine had always possessed a daring spirit, not unlike Christina’s.

Christina smiled, remembering her aunt. Years had passed since she had last seen her, and now that England and France were at war yet again, many more would pass before they would ever lay eyes on one another again. Still, what mattered was that Aunt Francine had found happiness after all. Not in the way demanded or expected of her. But in her very own way.

Always had Christina known herself to be different from her aunt, that she would not choose her passion over her family as Aunt Francine had. No, all those years ago, Christina had decided that her stories were to remain a secret, a secret she would only ever share with those closest to her—her sisters. However, beyond that small circle, no one would ever know that a writer’s heart beat in Christina’s chest, that she sometimes spent the evenings writing page after page, her imagination running wild.

And yet, over the years, Christina had often found herself wondering what would have happened to Aunt Francine if she had not taken the risk she had that night. Indeed, her aunt had been daring and she had found happiness because of it. And now, here, in this moment, Christina knew that she needed to be daring as well. This was not about her, but it was about someone dear to her. Sarah was like another sister, and Christina would not see her married to a man who did not appreciate the treasure she was.

“No matter what,” Christina mumbled under her breath, “I will find a way to prevent this marriage from happening. No matter what.”

For Sarah’s sake.