Starlight & Promises (46 page)

The arrangements were finalized, the church reserved, the flowers chosen, and the invitations sent. Samantha played no part in the preparations. Most days, when she could elude Steven, she spent in quiet contemplation in the gardens. She thought about her baby, Christian’s baby. Would she deliver a green-eyed boy or a golden-eyed girl? At those times, she drew out her wedding ring that she wore on a ribbon around her neck. The sparkle of the topaz and emerald stars caused her such pain that she soon tucked the cherished ring back into her bodice against her heart.

Oh, Christian
, she asked time and time again,
am I doing the right thing or making a terrible mistake? What would you have me do?
Christian never answered her plea, and events swept her along as though she were naught but flotsam caught in a strong sea current. Her wedding day advanced with alarming speed. The closer it drew, the more helpless she felt.

When Jasper removed the splints from Christian’s legs, Christian took his first blind, tentative steps with only a pronounced limp as testimony to his injuries.

“Your right leg did not heal as straight as I had hoped,” Jasper said. “Perhaps it will improve with exercise.”

Once again ambulatory, Christian fought to recover his former strength. At long last, the day arrived when Jasper pronounced him well enough to weather the journey to Hobart. Jasper packed supplies while Garrett saddled the horses. They left Queenstown behind on the long overland journey around Lake George and on to Hobart.

Christian rode like a novice rider on a lead rein behind Garrett. His temper suffered, but he bore the indignity in silence. His two friends were doing the best they could. He stubbornly clung to the hope that soon he would regain his sight. Though with Samantha gone, naught remained that he wished to see.

They caught the ferry at the western end of the Huon River, and the three men grew eager for the journey to end. They spoke of beds instead of bedrolls, beef in place of bush-tail possum, and water that tasted clean, unlike that from canteens, which left a metallic aftertaste. For as much good as it did, Jasper bathed Christian’s eyes every night with an acidic solution he had purchased from an Aborigine medicine man.

“Damn, that stings,” Christian complained, as he did each time Jasper soaked the cloths and laid them across his eyes. “And it has no effect.”

“Patience, Professor, you must have patience and faith,” Jasper said. “You sustained much damage. You cannot expect miracles overnight.”

Christian grumbled, but two days out of Hobart when he opened his eyes at dawn, the darkness he had lived with for weeks lightened. By the time they reached Hobart’s outskirts, his vision had improved. Objects in the distance appeared fuzzy. A headache arose when he strained to focus, but he could see well enough to reclaim his reins from Garrett.

The day of the wedding at hand, Samantha rode in a carriage beside Delia, Chloe, and Gilly to the church where Steven awaited her. Pettibone drove. Cullen, despite their urging, refused to accompany them. He made his feelings clear: he wanted no part of Steven Landry or Samantha.

While Cullen mucked the stalls, a clatter arose in the courtyard. He laid aside the pitchfork and strolled to the door, wondering if the visitors were looking to lease Talmadge House. They had received several inquiries in past days. Steven planned to move Samantha into his town house directly after the wedding. Her clothes had already been sent ahead. After a weeklong honeymoon, the remainder of the family would join them and stay until Samantha gave birth. As soon as the baby was old enough to travel, they would return to England to settle the details of Richard’s estate. They had invited Cullen to accompany them, but he couldn’t stomach Samantha’s betrayal of Christian’s memory. If Jasper and Garrett didn’t return before the family departed, Cullen planned to sign on to a ship headed for America.

He wandered outside to greet the visitors and failed at first to recognize them. Jasper’s great bulk and dark skin finally registered. He drew closer to the other two bearded, dusty men, and his eyes stretched wide. His heart gave a hitch. “Chris!” he shouted and accelerated into a run. He reached them, stopped short, and knuckled at his eyes. “Ye can’t be ‘ere. Ye’re dead!”

“Much as I hesitate to disappoint you, I’m not dead yet. However, I’ve certainly been in better health,” Christian said, stiffly swinging his leg over the horse and dismounting. He caught Cullen up in a hug that nearly cracked his ribs.

Cullen struggled out of his arms. “Ye don’t understand. If’n ye’re not dead, ye can’t let ‘er de it!”

Christian’s brows drew together. “What are you prattling about? Not let who do what?”

“Sam,” Cullen panted. “Sam’s gettin’ married!”

“Married?” the three men echoed.

“Aye, married ta Steven Landry, may God rot ‘is soul. Ye’ve got ta stop ‘er!”

Grimness tightened the line of Christian’s mouth. “When?”

Cullen pointed down the road. “Now! At t’church!”

Stiffness suddenly loose fluidity, Christian grabbed the reins and swung up onto the horse. He pivoted the mount on its hindquarters and dug in his heels. The horse shot forward with a leap. Jasper and Garrett chased after his heels.

Samantha clutched the cushions until the springs pressed painfully into her palms. She desired naught more than to remain in the carriage and instruct Pettibone to drive on. ‘Twas a vain wish. Everyone awaited her at the church door, with strained smiles on their faces. She inhaled a breath, released her grip on the cushions, took Pettibone’s hand, and stepped down onto the roadway. Every instinct screamed for her to end this debacle before it went too far. Nevertheless, her feet moved her forward. She managed that first step, and inexplicably a sense of calm slipped over her. ‘Twas as though Christian was by her side or nearby, watching with approval as she took this action for their child. She forced a smile and entered the church on Pettibone’s arm.

Flowers of all varieties and hues of the rainbow crowded the church this time. Ribbons decorated the pews and altar, and a massive candelabra burned with dozens of sweet-smelling candles. Steven stood at the altar with the pastor. He turned and looked at her, hazel eyes blazing in the candlelight. With Pettibone holding her up, she lowered her veil and proceeded down the aisle. Her dress of cream silk brocade whispered. When they reached Steven, the butler handed her off to her future husband and took his seat.

Samantha met Steven’s gaze and saw not tenderness, as she had seen so often, or pity, as she had come to expect, but raw lust, and her knees threatened to give way. Goose bumps broke out across her skin. She’d not considered the physical aspect of this marriage. Her only concern was her child’s welfare. The remainder she had blocked from her mind. Could she bear it? Could she allow Steven to bed her and touch her as Christian had done? When she placed her hand over her stomach, the baby kicked, as though in response to her thoughts.

A small smile touched her lips. She had no desire for Steven’s attentions but surely could endure whatever was necessary to ensure her child’s future. Were she obliged to close her eyes and pretend Steven was Christian, she would do so.

The pastor intoned the words that would make them man and wife, and her thoughts returned to the ceremony.

“If any man present can give reason why this man and woman should not be joined in holy matrimony, let him speak now or forever hold his peace,” the pastor said, looking out over the assemblage.

Silence reigned, and everyone craned their necks to examine their neighbors, as though expecting some objection. None came.

The pastor smiled and looked down on the couple. “Then, with the blessing of the Church of England, I now pronounce—”

“I have reason,” a strong voice echoed from the back of the church, clearly heard by all assembled.

Heads turned around, and eyes focused on the large, bearded man poised in the open doorway with his legs apart and hands on his hips.

The pastor blinked. Bewilderment crossed his face. He cleared his throat, directing a stern look at the man. “And what would be your reason, sir?”

“She is already married,” Christian said and strode up the aisle.

The pastor’s mouth dropped open. His gaze returned to the bride when she slumped to the floor in a froth of cream silk brocade.

S
teven dropped to one knee and patted Samantha’s pallid cheek.

Christian stopped beside him. “Remove your hands from her before I break them.”

Steven’s eyes sparked with fury. “Who are you, sir, to issue orders to me?”

Christian squatted on his heels, scooped Samantha into his arms, and straightened his legs. “Christian Badia, Samantha’s legal husband. Who the hell are you to wed another man’s wife?” His gaze barely touching on the burden in his arms, he looked with contempt over the slender, middle-aged man. Samantha planned to marry this aging roué? The least she could have done was select a man her equal. He shifted his gaze to the pastor. “Should you require confirmation, ask them.” He nodded toward the pew where Samantha’s family sat.

Aunt Delia and Chloe had fainted. Gilly hovered over them, fanning the air and darting incredulous glances at Christian. Pettibone appeared frozen to the pew.

“I protest this!” Steven whipped his head toward the pastor.

“And I don’t give a damn,” Christian said. He turned and left with Samantha cradled against his chest.

The pastor swayed on his feet with his mouth catching flies.

As Christian headed down the aisle, he examined Samantha. Cheeks and lips as white as sea foam, her breathing shallow. While he reacquainted himself with her lovely face and form, his gaze lit on her rounded belly, and he drew in a tight breath. Exactly how well did she know Steven Landry? He harked back to what Cullen and the others had said about Landry at the time of her disappearance. She and Landry were close … close friends. And more? Pain hit him as surely as if someone had socked him in the gut. Were they “close” from the time he had shipped out on the
Maiden Anne
to search for Richard, she could be carrying the man’s child. In a moment of clarity, the reason why she decided to marry Landry abruptly made sense. And why did Cullen so fervently pronounce his demise? Once Samantha recovered from her swoon, he would demand some answers.

His mother’s face flashed before his eyes, her features superimposed on those of Samantha’s. The woman’s perfidy had destroyed his father, transformed a strong, rational man into a rambling child. Never would Christian forgive his mother for the misery she had caused. Now it seemed he was doomed to walk the same path as his father. How had he allowed himself to fall into Samantha’s trap? He would be damned if he did! Though his wife had managed to worm her way into his heart, he could just as easily expel her. Her actions this day confirmed the opinion he’d held for so long of women as untrustworthy creatures. He’d thought Samantha was different. He’d been wrong.

When Christian exited the church, Jasper and Garrett were waiting by the horses. He handed Samantha off to Jasper and mounted, then reached out for her.