Quillan said, “I meant no disrespect.”
The vein in Papa’s temple pulsed, but he contained his anger. “You found my daughter vulnerable and forced your attentions—”
“It wasn’t like that, Papa!” Carina’s hands clenched at her sides. “He saved my life!” Now all eyes were on her. “In my letter I told you Crystal was lovely, but it wasn’t. It was hard and terrible. I went to Quillan for help.”
Papa’s eyes narrowed. “And he used that to marry you?”
Carina spread her hands. “It was all he could do to stop a man who was truly worthy of your disdain. You should thank him, Papa, for saving me from shame. I was the foolish one. Not Quillan.”
Papa’s mouth pulled down. “You defend him, but that does not excuse—”
Quillan stepped forward. “I ask your pardon for marrying without your blessing. If circumstances had permitted, I would have asked it.”
Papa looked him up and down without speaking. Would he accept Quillan’s apology? Fervently she hoped so. He said, “I would have refused.”
Quillan’s chin dropped just enough that Carina felt the blow.
“You’re a stranger to our ways, our religion, our life. I would not have wished exile for my daughter.”
“I can learn.” Quillan drew himself up.
“He can, Papa. You should see how quickly he learns the language.” Carina leaned forward earnestly.
“Then we’ll have to watch what we say.” Papa’s words were cruel, brutal in impact. He would not accept Quillan, not give him a chance.
Carina looked around the room, every face hostile, judging. Her fists hardened again at her sides. “If you don’t accept Quillan, you don’t accept me.”
Angelo exploded. “Be quiet, Carina. This is our father’s business.”
Carina looked at Quillan. He stood stiffly, too proud to show the hurt she knew was there. It wasn’t Papa’s business. It was theirs.
Quillan dropped his hands to his sides. “Thank you for your hospitality. I won’t impinge further.”
Carina caught her breath sharply. “If you go, I go, too.”
Quillan shook his head. “You need to stay here with your family.”
“I’d rather sleep on the street.” She turned for the door.
Angelo caught her arm. “Don’t you dare insult Papa.” His fingers dug into her flesh.
“I won’t stay without my husband.” She shot her gaze to Papa.
Her father raised a hand. “It’s your husband who leaves you.”
The pain shot through her. Would he? Had Quillan brought her there only to leave again? She turned to him, beseeching. Quillan’s gaze softened. He wanted her to understand . . . what? Why he would leave her? She struggled against Angelo’s hold, but Lorenzo caught her other arm and held her firmly.
Her eyes followed Quillan as he walked through the door. She heard his steps on the stairs. He was going. He would pack his things and go. Her heart thumped inside her. “No!” She fought off Angelo and Lorenzo and ran for the stairs, holding her side where the corset made hard breathing painful. She rushed into the room. “I won’t let you go.”
Quillan straightened from the bag he had opened. She rushed to him, clasped him in her arms, and pressed her tear-streaked face to his chest.
He returned her embrace with desperate force, kissing her head. “It’s only for a while, Carina, until I can find us a place or build one.”
“No.” She shook her head.
He caught her face. “I’m not leaving you. But I can’t stay under this roof.”
“Then let me come.” She covered his hands, pressed his palms against her cheeks.
He shook his head. “If you came now, it would destroy any chance we have. Show your father the respect he demands.”
Carina shook her head. “Where will you be?”
“In town somewhere. I’ll let you know.”
A sob caught in her throat. “This can’t be right.”
“You heard him, Carina. I have to prove that I’m no different, that I can be what you are.”
“So prove it here!” She clung to his hand.
He stood back. “Do you really believe that’s possible?”
She looked up into his face. He was no fool, her husband. But it broke her heart to watch him go. He stuffed the rest of his clothes from the trunk into the bag, took up his leather pack and another satchel. He bent and kissed her lips, then left the room. His steps going down were like blows. She threw herself onto the bed and sobbed.
How could they be so cruel? What had he done? Why must he always prove himself worthy? Would no one ever accept him? She punched her fists into the bed. She accepted him, loved him. But she was being denied even that.
Had she committed some unforgivable sin? She thought of all the things she had hoped Quillan wouldn’t say, the things she wanted to keep hidden. Was she ashamed of him, of Rose and Wolf? Was she ashamed of the way their marriage had happened? Did she know inside it was wrong?
No! She thrust herself up. She almost ran after him, but he was right. They had to make her family see, and they couldn’t do that if she made the breach so wide it couldn’t be healed. So Papa was human. So he’d been insulted. She would show him her love, her respect. Then she’d show him all the reasons he should love and accept Quillan.
She snatched a handkerchief from the bed and wiped her face. Then one by one she hung her dresses in the wardrobe, then folded her blouses and undergarments into the drawers. She looked up at the knock. “Yes?”
Divina opened the door. “Dinner is ready.”
Carina seethed. She should go down now and eat with them? “I’m not hungry.”
Divina advanced. “You deserve it, Carina. You’ve caused no end to misery. Flavio—”
“What about him?” Carina clutched her gabardine camisole.
Divina’s face was a knife. She had put on more weight than just the baby, but her face now looked sharp enough to cut. “You know he’ll never love anyone but you.”
Carina huffed out her breath at the absurdity. “You can say that?”
“You stupid baby.” Divina brought her face up close. “You think because Flavio dallies he doesn’t love you?”
“Dallies, Divina?” Carina questioned. “Whose child is in your belly?”
Divina’s slap numbed Carina’s ear and burned her cheek. Carina pressed her palm on the stinging flesh. She stood frozen as Divina stalked from the room, then she backed into the bed and sat down, covering her eyes with her hands. Could anything else go wrong?
It was as if some evil had pervaded her family while she was gone. Everything that had been safe and good was gone. Everyone had changed. Or did she just see them differently? Had she been so self-centered and arrogant herself that she couldn’t see it in them? Had she been so coddled and petted that she blinded herself to reality?