Once Upon an Irritatingly Magical Kiss by Bree Wolf
Chapter Forty
Doubts
Thorne could not deny that it felt strange to have Mrs. Miller and her son in the house. Although the woman had instantly agreed not to reveal her identity to Samantha, Thorne could not help but think that something eluded him, and so he kept watching her most carefully.
As did everyone else.
As the Whickertons rarely kept secrets from one another, Thorne and Christina had not hesitated to share what had happened with the rest of their family. They too seemed torn between compassion and distrust. It was the way of the world, was it not? Of course, there were always those who deserved support and kindness while it was also true a deceiving mind often hid behind tearful eyes and a charming smile.
The only ones who seemed unaffected by the tension that lingered were the children. Thorne was relieved to see that Samantha delighted in their new visitors, particularly the boy. Although Owen was rather taciturn and somewhat hostile, Samantha did not seem to care. She was her usual exuberant self, sharing her toys freely and always ensuring that Owen could participate in her games despite his inability to walk.
“Look at him,” the dowager countess chuckled as she stood beside Thorne and Christina at one end of the terrace, watching the children play at the other end. “She’s wearing him down, is she not?”
Thorne looked down at her and smiled. “She has been known to do so.” He grinned at his wife.
Christina nodded, a warm glow in her eyes as she looked at Samantha. “Yes, she has a way about her.”
“Any news?” The dowager countess inquired, looking from her granddaughter to Thorne. “Is her story confirmed?” Her gaze moved to the bench on the side of the terrace where Mrs. Miller sat and watched her son, an equally warm smile upon her face as well. Thorne could not help but think, though, that something tense lingered in her eyes. Was it only the uncertainty of her situation? Or was it more than that?
“Not yet” Thorne replied when Reuben stepped out onto the terrace.
“Pardon me, Sir.” He hesitated for a moment before Thorne nodded to him to continue. “I’m afraid I have been unable to recover the silver letter opener from your study. Of course, I will instruct everyone to keep an eye out for it.”
Thorne nodded, and the man disappeared.
“A letter opener is missing?” the dowager inquired with narrowed eyes. She looked at him for a moment before turning her gaze to Mrs. Miller.
“I’m afraid so,” Christina answered for him. “We do not wish to point fingers, but, of course, the thought has crossed our minds as well. After all, she was alone in the study the day of her arrival at Pinewood Manor.”
Thorne sighed. “I do not wish to believe it, yet a part of me understands.” He wondered what he would do if he were unable to put food in Samantha’s belly. How far would he go to see her fed?
The answer was: to the end of the world if need be.
* * *
Over the next couple of days, Samantha continued to draw Owen out of his shell. The pinched expression upon his little face showed clearly that he was on his guard, that he did not wish to be included in her games or at least that he did not think it wise to allow himself to be included. Every now and then, though, he could not help but crack a smile, something almost lively dancing in his pale eyes. There was a yearning there for the life Samantha called her own, a life he had never known and was afraid to want.
“She never truly speaks to Samantha, does she?” Harriet observed as she and Christina strode through the tall grass beyond Pinewood Manor’s gardens. Her gaze remained upon the little girl as she chased ahead toward the forest line, Mrs. Huxley as well as Mrs. Miller and her son following upon her heel.
“Not that I have ever observed,” Christina replied as her gaze moved from Mrs. Miller to Samantha and back. Of course, the woman always tended most diligently to her son, presently pushing the bath chair they had fashioned so that Owen could leave the house without being carried. That pinched expression upon his young face seemed to lessen whenever they stepped out of doors, when the wind brushed over his head and the sun touched his skin.
In these moments, the serious, most earnest little boy almost looked like a true child again.
“Don’t you find that odd?” Harry asked, a slight frown drawing down her brows as she watched the frail, young woman carefully.
Christina shrugged. “I cannot say. I cannot imagine what it must feel like to give up your child, to spend years without her and then to see her again.” She heaved a deep sigh. “We haven’t told Samantha. I keep wondering if we should, but what if Mrs. Miller did not tell us the truth? What if there’s a lie in her story somewhere? A lie that could hurt Samantha?”
A wide smile came to Harriet’s face. “You truly do sound like a mother,” she commented, wrapping an arm around Christina’s shoulders and giving her a quick hug. “You’re trying to protect her. There is nothing wrong with that.” Her gaze once more moved to Mrs. Miller. “Your husband’s investigators have not yet discovered anything that would prove her story untrue?”
Christina shook her head. “Quite frankly, they have not yet found anything, nothing that would prove her story true or untrue.” She shook her hand. “I do not know what to make of this. But I suppose you’re right; I think I would feel better if Mrs. Miller tried to reacquaint herself with Samantha. I cannot help but think that she does not genuinely care about her. And if that is so, then why is she here?”
Harriet nodded in agreement. “It seems the only thing she cares about is her son. Did she not say she had come to ask for help?”
Heaving a deep sigh, Christina nodded. Indeed, regular meals had done both of them well. Although Mrs. Miller still looked frail, she seemed stronger these days. As did Owen. Was it truly the only reason why Mrs. Miller had come? Did it have nothing to do with Samantha?
Christina did not know what she was hoping for. Only it was not her decision to make. All she could do was wait and see what would happen.