The Whisper Of Wings

by Cassandra Ormand

  "Not a very enlightened fellow," Christopher acknowledged.

  "I couldn't stop writing." She was speaking in earnest now, her voice full of emotion, passion, and sadness. "It was a part of me. I hid it from him. When he found out, he beat me for it. It was the only time he ever physically abused me, but I never forgot it."

  Christopher couldn't stifle the rage response that welled up inside him. If Michaela's father had still been alive, he would have beaten him senseless for raising a hand against her.

  "Then suddenly my father died. They allowed me a brief mourning period, and after a time, I thought I could escape the arranged marriage altogether. I thought Geoffrey would respect my wishes and release me from my father's promise, but he grew angry and impatient, insisting that we hasten the nuptials. He argued with my mother, threatened her. I couldn't stay. I didn't know where to go, but I couldn't stay. I couldn't trust anyone. I didn't even know if I could trust Eugenia anymore. Dear Eugenia."

  She broke off with a sigh, then smiled as she suddenly became aware of Christopher's heartbeat beneath her cheek. Being in his arms, having him stroke her hair, felt so good, so right. It seemed as though they belonged together, as though they had always been together. It was wonderful, comforting.

  "She was like an aunt to me. At one time, I was best friends with her daughter. But even Lucy believed that I should marry Geoffrey. She swore that love had nothing to do with marriage. I didn't agree."

  "I must side with you. Without love, a marriage cannot stand," Christopher said.

  Michaela's smile broadened. Christopher was as hopelessly romantic as she was. "Some people believe that's an outdated notion."

  "Some people are ignorant. They don't know what true beauty life holds."

  She lifted her head to look up into his eyes. "You are a beautiful man, Christopher Standeven, with a beautiful heart."

  An odd expression flickered across his face, and his eyes filled with emotion so intense that it bordered on pain. He looked as though he was searching for something, as if he needed to tell her something, something vital, something that would change both their lives forever.

  "You needn't worry about Yelvington any longer, Michaela," he finally said. "I've seen to it that he is never a concern again."

  She straightened a bit, her brows pulled down in a frown of consternation as she stared at him. "I don't understand."

  His voice was earnest now, and he squeezed her shoulders a little as though for emphasis, to help her understand. "You don't have to marry him. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. Ever."

  Michaela was still confused. "I thought that's why my mother was calling. I thought you had discovered my deception and had...."

  He shook his head, his eyes bright with sincerity. "I would never betray you. I went to her to get your novels. I never invited her to call."

  "You have my novels?"

  He suddenly looked sheepish, almost guilty. "Yes. All of them."

  "And Geoffrey?"

  "Bought off."

  She fell silent for a long time as she contemplated this new information.

  "Are you very angry with me?" he asked.

  She shook her head.

  He went on in a rush. "I didn't know how you would receive it. I took a reprehensible liberty, but I felt it was necessary to your welfare."

  "I can't argue that point," she admitted. But she was still frowning when she said, "I just don't know how I will ever repay you."

  He didn't answer her for a long time, just stared down at her, his fingers biting into her shoulders, his eyes probing. She wondered if he realized he was hurting her a little, but knew that he mustn't. He would never intentionally hurt her.

  "Marry me," he finally said, his voice broken, so unlike any sound she'd ever heard him make before. There was something almost tragic about the way he said it, a bit helpless and pleading. She was so stunned by it that she couldn't speak.

  "Not as repayment," he quickly amended. "I don't ever expect you to repay me for anything. Marry me...because I want you to."

  She was still too amazed to answer. She just sat there staring back at him, her blood singing through her veins, her heart a deafening roar in her ears. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had yearned for this day to come, and now that it was here, she had a hard time believing it was real. It had to be a dream. It couldn't be real. Why would a man like Christopher Standeven want a penniless waif?

  "You said you loved me," he murmured, as if to convince her.

  "I did?" she squeaked in surprise.

  With an air of defeat, he dropped his hands away from her shoulders. "Just a moment ago. Don't you remember? Or...didn't you mean it?"

  "Of course. Of course, I meant it," she insisted. "I do love you."

  She flushed and looked away, mortified that he might think her gauche, mortified that he might not love her in return.

  Christopher was barely aware of her discomfort. His mind was already racing ahead, planning, worrying. There was so much to consider. "I'll have to speak to Gerald," he murmured.

  Michaela glanced at him in surprise. "Gerald?"

  Christopher frowned as he gazed into the distance. "I'm afraid it will be a shocking blow for him."

  Michaela reached out and touched his arm to get his attention. He wasn't making sense, and she needed to know what all this talk of Gerald was about. "I don't understand."

  Christopher turned his eyes back to hers. He seemed surprised that she didn't understand, even a bit perplexed. "He's in love with you. It's going to crush him when I tell him."

  She stared at him in honest amazement, then very slowly a smile began to break over her face, spreading until she was eventually laughing, laughing with the most heartfelt sincerity he'd ever heard. She was so caught up in mirth that she wasn't even looking at him anymore. She was just giving in to the laughter, her hands clasped across her waist. He stared at her in total confusion. He couldn't for the life of him imagine what she found so amusing.

  When Michaela noticed the odd expression on his face, she was quick to suppress her mirth. "Gerald isn't in love with me," she explained.

  Now it was Christopher's turn to be surprised. "But it's why...I've stayed away from you for so long. I was in an agony...."

  She smiled. "Oh, Christopher. I love you so much, you silly man. Of course, Gerald loves me. But not like that. It's all perfectly innocent. It's just a very deep, very lasting friendship. Nothing more."

  For a moment, he seemed to flounder in his confusion, but then as he realized what she was saying, he began to grin. "I suppose I was being rather silly, jumping to conclusions. Perhaps because...."

  Her eyes were shining with hope when she prompted, "Because?"

  "God, but I'm relieved. You can't imagine how."

  "Perhaps because what?" she pressed, poking him with her fingers to get him back on track.

  He smiled, his eyes sparkling with mirth. The bold little devil was actually prodding him. "Perhaps I couldn't see clearly because I was blinded by love."

  Michaela's hands were trembling when she reached out to trail her fingers down his cheek. He loved her. She had prayed for this day, had yearned for him to love her. It was like a gift from heaven, a gift she would cherish for the rest of her life. Christopher truly was her wings. He would love her, respect her, honor and adore her, and she would make him a good wife. Forever.

  Christopher's mind was still churning with plans. "I've bought out the partnership. Mason was not happy about his son's behavior, and, consequently, James won't be taking over the partnership now. Still, I proceeded with my plan. It's been in the back of my mind to get out of that venture for some time. Not that Mason isn't a wonderful friend. I just needed the freedom, I suppose. I'm not business partner material. I'm too set in my ways."

  Michaela smiled. She liked his ways.

  "My fortune is somewhat depleted for it, but I'm still an obscenely wealthy man. We should be able to get by well enough," he t
eased, smiling openly now.

  Michaela gazed at him in wonder. There was something different about him, something she couldn't quite define.

  But of course! Why hadn't she realized before? It was the frown that had always been nestled between his brows. It was gone. Now he looked more open, more approachable, younger, not quite so fettered. It was as if some crushing weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he was free to enjoy life again, free to take it a little less seriously.

  Christopher gazed down at his little darling. She was so beautiful. He wanted to marry her right now, make her his as soon as possible. Now that she had.... He suddenly frowned. "But you haven't answered me. Will you marry me?"

  Her face took on a pained look, and she quickly glanced away. "There's something I have to tell you."

  It was a barely audible whisper, full of apprehension. Christopher felt his spirits plummet. "I know about the rape, if that's what you mean."

  She was too mortified at having to tell him the truth of the matter to be appalled that he knew about the way the stranger in New Orleans had violated her. She shook her head, tears pricking the backs of her eyes. "Before that. I...." She turned stricken eyes to his. "I wasn't a virgin when I was violated."

  He stared at her, careful to maintain his composure. It was a bit shocking, but it wouldn't change the way he felt about her.

  She glanced away again, in utter misery now that she had to admit something so reprehensible to him. "It was a man who worked for my father, one of the transient cotton pickers. He was only there for a short time, but he was so different from all the other men I had ever known. He actually thought that I should pursue my dreams. He was everything I wanted to experience at the time. It was only once. I suppose I was weak. I needed approval from someone." She trailed off and stared at the ground, too afraid to meet his eyes, afraid that he might hate her for it. "If you don't want to marry me now, I'll understand."

  She glanced up when he grabbed her shoulders, grabbed them so tightly that she thought he was angry. But one look at his face, and she knew he wasn't. He was just earnest.

  "It doesn't matter. What matters is the here and the now." His eyes softened as he looked at her. "Oh, Michaela. I could never hate you for something like that."

  "I just thought I should be completely honest with you."

  He smiled. "And I'm glad for that. Together we will build an unshakeable foundation of love and trust. Nothing will ever come between us. We will be stronger than anything that could ever hope to tear us apart."

  Michaela sagged with relief. He really wasn't going to hold it against her. "Oh, Christopher, I'm so happy. You're so wonderful."

  "Marry me, Michaela." He gently shook her. "Dammit, woman, answer me now. I can't wait another minute."

  She laughed. "Yes!" She shouted it to the mountaintops. "Yes, Mr. Standeven, I will marry you!"

  "I love you," he said, pulling her to his chest.

  "I love you too, Christopher. And I will never stop loving you as long as I live." She raised her head to gaze into his eyes. "Thank you for everything."

  "No. Thank you. You've shown me that I can live again, that I can feel again. I can see the sun again, the beauty and marvel in the petals on every flower." He pressed his forehead to hers and whispered, "I'll show you the world, and you can write about every place we visit. Our life together will be wondrous. "

  She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "And children? May we have children?"

  "A dozen of them," he promised.

  She smiled.

  He kissed her then, kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, her throat, and finally her lips, a long, lasting kiss that spoke of his love for her from the very depths of his soul. Then he pulled her against his chest and held her for a long time, content to just be with her, to just exist.

  "I hate to think that we will never see Mr. Telford again," Michaela murmured as he cradled her in his arms.

  "He has an open invitation to our home," Christopher mused. "I imagine we will be seeing quite a lot of the old crone. He was quite taken with you."

  She laughed and snuggled closer. "Shouldn't we be getting back? Won't the others worry?"

  "Soon," he murmured against her hair. "Soon. I just want a few more minutes alone with you before we step into the din together. It's going to be a madhouse when we return, you know. There will be a hundred questions. Congratulations on our upcoming marriage. Mrs. Avery is going to be beside herself. She'll be demanding that we present her with children right on the spot."

  "And I'm going to enjoy every minute of it," she teased, lifting her head to nibble at his earlobe.

  He laughed and pulled her down to the forest floor with him. "I hope you enjoy every moment of this," he murmured just before his lips came down to cover hers.

  "Always," she murmured against his bare throat a few minutes later. "But only with you."

  THE END

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Cassandra Blizzard is one of the world’s most detailed psychic mediums. She is internationally known for her evidential mediumship skills as well as her psychic abilities, with clients on nearly every continent. She is also an accomplished, award-winning author, with over 30 novels to her credit. She has been writing since the age of 15 and has published numerous short stories, articles, and books. In the realm of mediumship, Cassandra is known for her accuracy and compassionate readings. When it comes to her writing career, she is known for her skills in hopping genres. She has written in nearly every genre, including romance, mystery, thriller, science fiction, and mainstream. She has recently added to her list of writing accomplishments with a spiritual non-fiction series, the first of which is titled Seven Years of Surrender. In fiction, she writes page turning novels that keep readers avidly engaged. Cassandra’s non-fiction series, which debuts in late 2011, promises to be an eye-opening series of revelatory books designed to broaden the reader’s understanding of the soul and the spiritual realm.

  http://psychicmedium-cassandrablizzard.com/