Something cracked in his chest, and all the pain of the past few days poured out of him, replaced by the burning urge to protect her. He turned to the others. “Leave us alone.”
Benedict and Dorian walked towards the door, but Cowasj loitered, a murderous light in his gaze.
“Now!” Christopher barked.
The prince strode out, muttering something Christopher didn’t care to understand. When the door shut, Pearl sobbed and slumped in the armchair, as if she’d waited to be alone with him before falling into pieces. He rose from the couch and wrapped his arms around her. He rocked her gently as her tears soaked his shirt.
“I know how hard is to lose someone you love,” he whispered, brushing his lips on her temple. “I lost both my parents in the span of two weeks. My father died of a heart attack, and Mother couldn’t bear to live without him. She died after him.”
She sobbed harder.
He kissed her temple again. “You aren’t alone.”
Her sobs quietened, and her muscles stiffened. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her shirt. “I am alone. I don’t have a home, no family, no money, and the police will soon arrest me.”
“No.” He took her hands again and stroked her knuckles. “I believe you.” The truth in his statement shocked him. But yes, he believed her.
“Cowasj thinks I’m hiding the money.” Anger dripped from her voice. “I don’t know anything. I swear it. The only thing my father left me is his last letter.” She opened the reticule and took out a folded piece of paper. “This is the last letter he sent me. Likely, the last thing I own. Not even the dress I’m wearing belongs to me.” Tears dropped again on her blotched cheeks. “I have nothing.”
Christopher didn’t know for how long he held her or for how long she cried, but his bad leg was burning, and agony, like thousands of needles prickling him, pierced his flesh from staying crouched in front of her for so long. But he’d rather face another war than move.
When her sobs subsided and her breathing became more regular, he handed her his handkerchief.
His chest constricted. “When you left . . .”
With shaking fingers, she took the handkerchief and peered at him through wet lashes.
Christopher cleared his throat. “When you left, you were worried to tell me the truth, weren’t you?”
“When you said you wanted to talk with my father, Amelia’s father, I panicked. You would’ve discovered my ruse in the worst possible way.” Her fingers tormented the handkerchief. “I was coming here to tell you the truth, though. I swear, I wanted to tell you everything and accept the consequences.”
A lock of her hair tumbled on her neck. He curled it around his finger before tucking it behind her ear. “You need to rest. Why don’t you go to your room? I’ll ask Florence to prepare a strong cup of tea for you.”
Her gaze darted towards the door, and she shivered again.
He cupped her cheek wet with tears. “I swear, no one will take you away. No one will call the police. You’re safe in my house.” Christopher kissed her forehead and vowed to protect her. Always.
~ * ~
WHEN PEARL OPENED her eyes, orange sunlight was streaming through the window, shading the room in a crimson glow. Hard to say if it was the sunset. Maybe she’d slept through the whole day and night, and it was dawn now. After crying herself to sleep, she didn’t remember anything.
A sharp pain hit her chest. Papa.
The evidence Cowasj had shown her was overwhelming. Papa had been a fraudster, and a skilled one at that. And he was dead. She rubbed her chest. Somehow, it was as if deep down she’d guessed. He had been a criminal, but he had been a caring father. He wouldn’t have left her without a word unless something terrible had happened to him, as it was the case.
“Papa,” she murmured.
Fresh tears blurred her vision. She let the tears fall, releasing some of the pain with them.
A swish of fabric came from a corner of the room, and she turned, gasping. Christopher sat in an armchair in his dressing gown.
“You’re awake.” He tilted his head. “How do you feel?”
Had he been here the whole time? Guarding her in her sleep?
Dozens of questions piled up in her mind. “What are you doing here?” Had he been worried she might’ve escaped?
“You kept screaming. Nightmares, I suppose. So I decided to stay here. You seemed to sleep better if I held you hand.”
