Once Upon an Irritatingly Magical Kiss by Bree Wolf

Chapter Five

Wrong Time, Wrong Place

Sarah’s face paled in a way that made Christina reach out and grasp her hands, concern quickening her pulse as she stared at her friend. “What is it?”

Sarah swallowed hard, but then quickly regained her composure, a polite but somewhat intense smile coming to her face. “It is nothing. I was merely—”

Christina frowned, then turned to look over her shoulder, wondering what her friend was staring at or rather trying not to stare at so intently. “What is it? What did you—?” Christina’s insides tensed at the very sight of him. “What is he doing here?”

Sarah shook her head. “I don’t have the faintest idea. I never expected to…”

Indeed, what was he doing here? At her sister’s wedding reception? In her sister’s new home?

Craning her neck, Christina spotted Leonora and her new husband speaking to a few other guests, their eyes aglow with happiness, her hand resting upon his arm as she leaned into him. “Why would they have invited him?” she mumbled more to herself than anyone else. Then she turned to look at Sarah. “Do you think it was your mother?” Christina felt the frown lines upon her forehead deepening. “No offense, but I would not put it past her.”

Sarah waved Christina’s concerns away. “Neither would I. However, I do not believe she would invite him without permission from your parents or your sister.”

Together, they turned to look toward the pianoforte where Lady Hartmore stood in a small circle of elderly matrons, a glass of ratafia in her hand. Truth be told, she did not look particularly conniving at the moment. If she had, in fact, invited Mr. Sharpe, the expression upon her face did not betray her. Indeed, she looked completely unperturbed.

“Do you think he could’ve invited himself?” Sarah asked, keeping her gaze fixed upon anything but Mr. Sharpe. Clearly, the man upset her deeply. Whenever he was near or was merely talked about, Sarah seemed uneasy.

Christina understood why. The man was most irritating! In fact, he was most likely the most irritating man she had ever met. When she had spoken to him the other day at the ball, he had been most direct and impolite. No gentleman would have spoken to a lady the way he had spoken to her.

A small voice whispered that neither would a true lady have addressed Mr. Sharpe the way Christina had; however, Christina silenced that voice immediately. “Honestly, it would not surprise me. He has no manners, no sense of decency, no—” Her words broke off when the man’s gaze met hers from across the room.

Mr. Sharpe smiled at her in greeting, which infuriated Christina even more. What was he thinking? They were not friends! They were not even acquaintances! In fact, he was her nemesis. Granted, that might be a bit extreme. Still, Christina loathed him with every fiber of her being for the role he was currently playing in ruining her friend’s life.

“Who are you glaring at so intently?” Harriet’s voice chirped up a moment before she appeared in Christina’s field of vision. Her fiery red curls bounced upon her shoulders and then flew sideways as she quickly turned her head in Mr. Sharpe’s direction. “Oh, him.” Her green eyes narrowed as she looked at Christina. “Honestly, I never understood why you dislike him. He seems quite amiable.”

Christina snorted in derision. “How can you say that?” She glanced at Sarah, not wishing to upset her friend further. “Do you know why he’s here? Did Mother and Father invite him? Did Leonora?” She frowned and cast a quick glance at her new brother-in-law. “He’s not a friend of Drake’s, is he?”

Harriet threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, can you imagine that? They are like day and night, one dark and skulking and the other cheerful and teasing. Now, if he’s anyone’s friend, I think he must be Phineas’. They are a lot alike, wouldn’t you say?”

Christina frowned, then looked at Sarah, somewhat relieved to see an equally confused frown upon her friend’s face. “Harry, honestly, I don’t know how you cannot see it. He is so—”

Harriet lifted a hand to stop her. “If you insist on yelling and ranting on our sister’s wedding day, then please let me get away first.” She made to turn away, but then stopped and looked at Sarah. “Would you care for a stroll through the gardens?” Her eyes darted to Christina, then did a quick little roll before she held out her hand to Sarah. “You look like you could use a little fresh air.”

Christina tried her best not to be offended by her sister’s remark. “Go ahead,” she told Sarah, well aware that she was truly poor company at the moment. “I need a moment to myself.”

With a bit of a sigh, Sarah took Harriet’s arm, cast Christina a small smile and then, together, the two crossed to the terrace doors and stepped outside into the warm air of early summer.

Inhaling a deep breath, Christina tried her best to calm her nerves. However, the slight tingling sensation trailing down the back of her neck made her once more glance over her shoulder at Mr. Sharpe.

To her utter surprise, the blasted man was still looking at her. Worse! He was watching her. Why on earth was he watching her? After all, there was nothing she could do to protect her friend, and he knew it. Was it boastful pride? Did he delight in letting her know that he would win eventually?

Merely thinking about it stirred Christina’s blood. She felt the need to curl her fingers into tight fists. Her teeth gritted together, and her eyes narrowed. She could see that he saw that she was angry. She could see the teasing smile that came to his lips as well as the slight arc of his brows as though daring her to lose her temper.

Here.

In front of everybody.

Oh, no! She would not play into his hands. She would not explode. She would hold her temper until she was alone.

Straightening her shoulders, Christina lifted her chin and met his gaze head-on. Then she did her best to imitate a genuine smile, one that spoke of confidence and self-assuredness, and did her utmost to maintain that smile until she had counted to three in her head. A moment later, she shot him a challenging glare, turned her back on him and walked away.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, and Christina wanted nothing more than to stomp on his feet and scratch out his eyes. It was a childish and immature desire, but it was one he had only himself to blame for.

Leaving the assembled guests behind, Christina stepped out into the deserted corridor, the cheerful voices echoing after her a taunt, a reminder of how different she felt from those around her. If only she could have enjoyed her sister’s wedding day! If only she could have simply joined in! But no, he had to ruin everything! What was he doing here in the first place?

“Who stepped on your toes, my dear?”

At the sound of Grandma Edie’s voice, Christina whirled around. “How is it possible that you always manage to sneak up on us? And with your cane no less?” She drew in a replenishing breath, her gaze moving from her grandma’s chuckling face to her cane.

“I doubt it had anything to do with me, dear,” her grandmother replied with an indulgent smile. “You seemed rather lost in thought. Anything on your mind?” With her right hand leaning heavily upon her cane, Grandma Edie slipped her other hand through the crook of Christina’s arm as they proceeded down the corridor. “Speak to me, child, and I promise I shall not breathe a word of it to anyone.”

Christina shook her head. “Oh, it is nothing.”

Her grandmother snorted. “Chris, I have seen nothing countless times—although admittedly not as often as I have seen something—and I can tell you that nothing rarely leads to flushed cheeks and an accelerated heartbeat.” She grinned up at Christina. “Will you truly pretend that it is nothing?”

Christina heaved a deep sigh. “Oh, very well. There is no point in trying to hide anything from you, is there?”

Again, her grandmother chuckled. “Of course, you are free to try; however, I doubt you will succeed.”

Christina smiled at her grandmother, then gave her a quick hug, grateful to have her in her life. Although often quite intrusive and annoyingly tenacious when it came to knowing other people’s business, her grandmother had the kindest heart Christina had ever known, and she liked the thought that her own tenaciousness had come from her darling grandmother, passed down to her like a precious gift.

“What is it, dear? Is it Sarah’s soon-to-be-betrothed?”

Christina drew to a halt and turned to stare at her grandmother. “How do you know?” A deep frown drew down her brows. “Have you been watching me?”

Her grandmother chuckled. “How else would I know what I know?” Her pale, watchful eyes looked over Christina’s face. “He upsets you,” she remarked thoughtfully. “He upsets you deeply.”

Christina felt a surge of anger at her grandmother’s words. Yes, he did upset her! He irritated her! He—! “I don’t know what to do,” Christina admitted, realizing that Mr. Sharpe upset her so deeply because his insistence upon marrying her friend made her feel helpless. Never had Christina felt helpless. Never had she found herself confronted with a problem she could not solve. And now, here she was dependent upon his cooperation, which he stubbornly refused to give! “Sarah cannot marry him. She simply cannot.”

Her grandmother’s head cocked sideways. “Why not? Would he truly be such an awful match for her? You have to admit, he looks quite dashing with those teasing green eyes and those dark brown locks.” A youthful twinkle came to her eyes.

Christina threw up her hands. “You sound like Harriet,” she accused. “He looks like a blackguard, a scoundrel, a rogue, a…villain! Yes, he looks like a villain, the kind of villain the hero has to defeat in order to save the damsel in distress.” She heaved out a deep breath and crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s what he looks like!”

Grandma Edie chuckled, and for once, that sound deeply annoyed Christina. “So, he is the villain, and I suppose it is safe to assume that Sarah is the damsel in distress. Then, who is the hero?” She asked, grinning at Christina. “You?”

Christina rolled her eyes. “Since we’re lacking a dashing gentleman, yes! Who else?” Oh, how she wished there were a man—a gentleman, to be precise!—who would swoop in and sweep Sarah off her feet. A man who would marry her. A man who would be good for her. A man who would be good to her.

“Well,” Grandma Edie began, once more slipping her hand through the crook of Christina’s arm, “even a hero needs a moment to breathe every now and then. Come.” Together, they slowly made their way a little farther down the corridor before Grandma Edie used her cane to point at a door. “I believe the library is through there.”

Christina nodded for she had known this house what felt like all her life. After all, it had been Sarah’s former home!

Stepping forward, Christina pushed down the handle and stepped inside, her eyes darting from the tall floor-to-ceiling windows to the many rows of books along the walls. A fireplace was nestled in one corner with inviting armchairs set around it. Indeed, the room looked peaceful with the warm sun streaming in through the windows, touching the dark mahogany wood of the shelves and the floor.

“Rest your thoughts a bit,” Grandma Edie instructed from the door. “I shall see to Sarah.”

Sighing, Christina nodded, suddenly feeling utterly exhausted. “She went outside with Harry. Please, make certain that Mr. Sharpe does not approach her. He upsets her whenever he draws near.”

A gentle smile came to her face. “Of course. Do not worry. I promise all will be well.”

“I wish I had your faith in the future,” Christina mumbled, then turned to head toward the most comfortable-looking armchair. After a single step, though, she stopped and turned back around. “Do you know who invited Mr. Sharpe here today?”

Grandma Edie shrugged her shoulders. “I haven’t the faintest idea.” Then she smiled and closed the door, her hobbled steps echoing down the hall as she moved away.