You can't mean… you want me to marry her?”
“Yes.” The word was simple but firm, and the parental demand in her
expression left no room for argument.
A vision of all a marriage would entail flashed before him. Much of it looked
appealing, however… “I'm not opposed to the idea, but not yet.”
“Every day she stays in his care, the danger increases,” Julia pointed out.
Christopher scrubbed at his forehead with the tips of his fingers. His mind buzzed pointlessly among snippets of thought and refused to settle on a single coherent idea. “Just how am I supposed to do this if I can't ask for her father's
permission?”
She made a wry face at him. “You know how.”
“Elope?” The buzzing in his head grew into a roar, a pounding in his ears.
“Yes.”
What mother urges such a thing? “This is a very strange conversation,”
Christopher said, and then wanted to slap himself at the inane comment. You're
babbling. Pull it together, man.
“I know,” Julia concurred. “Think about it, Christopher. When women are
abused, the abuser is responsible, but so is everyone who knows and does nothing. I'm her friend, but I have no legal right to separate her from her father.
This was all I could do for her.”
“Marriage is a big step, Mother,” he reminded her, rubbing the middle of his
forehead with one knuckle. His hammering pulse had succeeded in making his head throb. “I wanted one like you and Father have. How can I with someone I've just met?”
“I barely knew your father when we married,” Julia replied. “What we have
has developed over the years. If you make the commitment and the effort, in time, the rest will come.”
Christopher shook his head. “It's too soon. I… I understand the problem, but I have my own future to think about too. I'm not going to rush headlong into an
elopement with her, no matter how lovely she is.”
“I hope you can live with the outcome of waiting,” she said darkly.
Christopher took leave of his mother and returned to his apartment in a hotel
across town, where he spent an unsettled night lost in painful contemplations, which eventually gave way to terrible dreams of an innocent, dark-eyed girl crying out for help. No one came to her aid, and finally, the pleas cut off and a
disturbing silence fell.
CHAPTER 5
K aterina walked up to the door of the unfamiliar home, her heart
pounding. I shouldn't be here. If Father ever finds out… she
shuddered and then winced. It's going to be difficult to act normally this evening.
The pain was intense, and, silly vanity, she had tightened her laces more than usual, wanting to look pretty for Christopher.
This flirtation is a terrible idea. I should leave, but where will I go? Home?
The thought made her stomach drop, but before she could come up with an alternate plan, a gentleman of about thirty years opened the door, ushering her into an entryway lit with softly glowing candles. Trapped, unwilling to flee directly under this stranger's eye, she allowed herself to cross the threshold. To
the left, a door stood open, beckoning her.
“Good evening, Miss Valentino,” the host said. “Bennett said to expect you.
My name is Gordon Wilder. Welcome to my home. If you would please step into
the parlor.”
She nodded and approached the salon where the guests chatted while
