The mansion was even colder the next day. Servants moved silently down the halls, yet Ethan could see the way that Christiana dodged him everywhere. When she ate breakfast she sat next Mrs. Williams and smiled politely at all her interrogatives without ever looking in his direction. Every smile she bestowed on another person severed him with a silent knife.
The food of Ethan was not disturbed. His head was full of the things he wanted to say, regrets he wanted to express, and none of them appeared satisfactory.
He discovered her in the garden, again, after the meal, on the stone bench on which they had broken their hearts the previous night. She had been drawing some flowers in a little book in an old-fashioned way , a present of Mrs. Williams.
"Christy," Ethan said softly.
She jerked, and her pencil lay lifeless along a line. "I don't want to talk."
Yes, I know, but I must have you listen to me, he thought. My choice was not what took place last night. Sophia..."
Don't say her name,," Christiana interrupted, and at last looked at him. Her eyes were red but fierce. "Don't you see? You're in her world now. She gets all she desires. And if she wants you..." Her voice failed. ...what chance do I have?
Ethan crouched over her, his hands shaking in his speech. "You're not a chance, Christy. You... you are the only thing that makes sense to me. You were my hope in that orphanage, my family. I can not lose that, not to anything, nor to any one.
Her eyes melted, yet there was still pain. So what the hell did you do not push her away?
Ethan lowered his head. "Because I froze. I didn't expect it. And you were late in coming in, too late.
He had to wait a long time before the heart of Christiana, the heart of Christiana, in its agony, made its choice. At last she said, I do not know whether I can forgive you.
The phrase struck him as a thunder-bolt, yet he sighed his head. "Then let me prove it. I'll wait, Christy. but however long it may be,...I will show you you're the one I pick.
Sophia had had an eye on them, upstairs, behind the half-open curtains of her bedroom. She closed her fists at the view of Ethan on his knees in front of Christiana, whose words were dripping sincerity.
That ought to have been done to me, she hissed to herself.
Swiftly pacing her room Sophia was in contemplation. Should she desire a battle, then battle she will have. Ethan will realize that she is too weak of him, too frail of this world. And when she is shattered he will have no alternative but to resort to me.
Her lips would be drawn in a dangerous smile.
The game had only just begun.