Dismayed that he had brought her to tears, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly until the sobs lessened and she looked up at him again. He kissed her forehead.
“It’s I who should be sorry, for causing you to show even a momentary weakness. You’re a brave woman, chérie, a strong one. How else could you have taken over the Sectiunite when your husband died? I imagine Prince Ciprian fought strenuously before handing it over to a female, but you prevailed, the only woman ever to do so, and win.”
He continued holding her, gently stroking her short, curly hair.
“Then I come stalking in here asking your assistance, and causing dissention between you and your sub-Sectiuni. And you shed tears for me?” Releasing her, he dipped his head in a totally repentant bow. “I beg your pardon, Madame, forgive me for suborning your authority. What must I do to restore you to your former regard among the aventurieri of France?”
“One thing.”
“And that is…?” With a sinking in his gut, he wondered if she was going to send him away. Well, if that had to happen, he wouldn’t lower himself to beg, but would accept it as his lot.
“Let’s double our efforts to find Micea Ravagiu. Find him and destroy him, and rid my country and your life, of this creature. We’ll go on a personal search of the city, you and I,” she suggested. “And if we don’t find Ravagiu…”
“If we don’t find him?”
“Call a halt to your search, and give up the sânge ravensa as the Prince ordered, and stay with me.”
“That’s a difficult thing to even consider. I said it’d never happen until Ravagiu paid for his crimes.” He sat for a long time without speaking, as if thinking how his life would change if he revoked the ravensa.
For nearly eighteen years it had been his one goal. Unconsciously, his fingers touched the wound on his wrist. Céline stayed silent, waiting. At last, he sighed and kissed her.
“I love you, Céline. You’ve a place beside my beloved Lily in my heart, and you always will have, but there’s only one thing for me to do.”
Throwing back the coverlet, Marek slid from the bed. The fire had burned low and the room was now so chill he shivered slightly as the cold air struck his skin. He reached for the garments lying on the chaise, carefully shaking out his shirt and putting it on.
“What are you doing?” She slid off the bed.
“I can’t give up my revenge, Céline, no matter how much I love you. My father’s spilled blood won’t let me.” He had his trousers on now, stockings smoothed and tucked inside them. “Hans-Claud and I will leave tonight and find lodgings elsewhere in town. This should please your sub-Sectiuni, at least.”
He managed an ironic smile as he pulled on his boots and started to the door. As he reached for the handle, she got between him and the door, soft flesh pressed against him, hands on his chest. He’d never believed anyone could move so quickly.
“You aren’t leaving. I forbid it.” It was the voice of the Sectiune commanding a subject.
“Beg pardon, my lady.” He didn’t raise his voice. “Who’s going to stop me? I’m not one of your people. You can’t order me around.”
They stared at each other.
“Are you really going to leave?”
“Though it breaks my heart.”
“Stay.” She became quieter, not ordering, but not begging, either. “We’ll devise a new plan. We’ll find him, I swear.”
“How?”
“I’ve maps. We’ll go over Paris, section by section, then the entire country. One province at a time. It’ll be difficult in winter, but…”
Ignoring her nakedness, she ran to the high bookcase built into the wall adjourning her upstairs study, searching through the books until she found the ones she wanted. They were heavy over-sized tomes, and he had to help her carry them to the desk.
“Here.” She flipped the first one open, unfolding a map tucked inside. “This one has a detailed layout of the catacombs under the city. Others show similar places in other towns, as well as caves and cemeteries with large family tombs. Many places where someone could hide himself.”
Pulling the map from her hands, Marek opened it and spread it on the desk. He studied it for several minutes before looking up.
“Thank you for your renewed assistance, Céline.” He kissed her mouth gently. “May I ask something else from you?”
“Anything, cher.”
“I’d much prefer my wife help me bring the killer of her husband’s family to justice than simply a Sectiune assisting a visiting aventurieri from the Motherland. Will you marry me, Céline?”
Turning away without answering, she walked back into the bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“To get dressed. We’ve much to do. Between searching for Ravagiu, preparing for a wedding, and handling all my other duties, I’m going to have a full calendar.”
* * *
“You’ve come back empty-handed.” Mircea fixed the captain with a dark stare. “Why?”
Instead of quailing, the soldat raised his head defiantly. Mircea applauded his courage.
This man’s much like Vasili.
“The Strigoisti weren’t there, master, and I dared assume you wouldn’t wish us to make an attack only upon the Graf and bring attention to ourselves.”
“That was good forethought,” Mircea murmured, as he concentrated on the captain’s first words. “Where are they? Did you determine that?”
“Yes, sir, and you won’t believe your good fortune. They’re on their way to Paris. The ghidaj…”
“He’s bringing them to Paris? Gods, has the man completely taken over the Sectiunite?”
“You know about his being in France, sir?” Gavriel looked crestfallen that his news hadn’t created more of a reaction.
“Of course, fool. Do you think I do nothing but sit here and drink my wine? I’ve had men flying to the Motherland as well as other countries gathering the latest news, and also infiltrating the French aventurieri for the most current gossip.”
One messenger returned from Paris with the information that the Sectiune had at last taken a new lover, a stranger said to have come from the Motherland by way of Austria. Mircea’s ears perked up at that. He’d interrogated the soldat learning la Marquise’s new amour was brash, black-haired, and the possessor of a pair of mismatched eyes. Mircea needed no more corroboration that the stranger was his old nemesis. He’d thought to kill the others while they were without his leadership, then bear down on Marek when he learned of their deaths, attacking while he was weakened with grief, but now...
“They’ll be together again in Paris. This is too much. It may take me a few days to savor it.”
“Master?”
He looked back at Gavriel. “Nothing for you to worry about. You’ve done well. Have my vintner break out a cask of wine for you and your men to enjoy. Now go.”
Soon, Strigoi...so very, very soon...
Success was so close he could almost taste it, and it was as sweet as Marek Strigoi’s blood was going to be.
Chapter 44
Marek was down the steps before the coach’s wheels stopped turning. Not waiting for the footman, he jerked open the door, stepping back as Dan appeared. Folding his cousin into his arms, he pounded his back. After a slight hesitation, Dan responded with an embrace of his own.
In a moment, the twins were beside them, Vlad calling out rather quietly, “Hello, Brother.”
If Marek noticed any reticence in their greetings, he blamed it on the long journey and the many nights of travel. Releasing his cousin, he looked around.
“Where’s Ruxanda?”
“In the coach.” Vlad nodded toward the vehicle. “Pouting.”
“For the gods’ sakes, why?”
“Because at the moment she hates you, me, and the whole world.” Dan answered, with an anger he’d never heard before.
“Whatever for?” Marek was plainly puzzled.
“You never read any of my letters
, did you?” Dan looked sad. “If you had,” he went on before Marek could deny the accusation. “You’d be aware of what I’ve had to put up with these eight months.”
“Xandi?” Marek turned to the coach, pulling the door open again. “Aren’t you going to get out?”
There was a reluctant snuffle from inside.
Ruxanda appeared, attired in a bonnet and tight-sleeved, traveling coat. Avoiding his offered hand, she climbed out of the coach, looked around at all of them and burst into tears.
“I hate you. I hate you for bringing me here.”
Darting up the steps, she disappeared into the house. Marek looked after her in astonishment. Vlad and Andrei shifted their weight in embarrassment.
“Must we stand here on the sidewalk, flaunting our private problems like fishwives?” Dan glanced up and down the street. “Can we at least go inside?”
The waspishness in his voice startled Marek.
“Of course.
Catching his arm, he pulled his cousin up the steps and into the study, calling over his shoulder to Hans-Claud to show the servants where to put the luggage.
The twins followed.
Once inside, Dan snatched his arm from his cousin’s grasp.
Marek countered with a sharp, “So? Tell me.”
“It’s that boy. Joachim. She’s been meeting him secretly.”
“Eyes of the Oracle.”
“Oh, don’t become too incensed yet,” Dan told him. “There’s more. I informed Karl-Josef and he ordered the boy not to see her.”
He took a deep breath.
“That night I caught Ruxanda sneaking down the backstairs with a packed valise. She and Joachim were going to elope, and as I’m sure you’re well aware, that would’ve been a catastrophe.”
He fixed his cousin with an accusing glare.
“I thought you told her.”
“I did. Fully…I thought.” Marek had a sinking in the pit of his stomach. “I suppose you punished her?”
“I locked Ruxanda in her room and told the Graf,” Dan admitted, more forcefully than Marek expected. “He sent Joachim back to the country with orders not to return to town for two years.”
He shrugged.
“As a result of my oh, so heartless action...” He made the words a quote in an ironic imitation of a female voice. “Ruxanda hates me, and now, since you’ve made certain she’ll never see her true love again by taking her from Vienna, she hates you, also.”
“I don’t know what to say. I thought this was all taken care of.”
“There’s nothing to be said.” Andrei spoke from the doorway. “Dan’s quick action saved both those foolish youngsters from getting killed. It’s your problem now, dear brother, and I hope you can pick up the pieces.”
“When I spoke to Ruxanda, she accepted the situation. What happened to change that?”
“Joachim happened,” Vlad retorted.
“For the gods’ sakes, she didn’t tell him, did she?”
“She says she didn’t,” Dan replied. “She says she simply told him she couldn’t see him any more and he was so forceful he swept her away.”
His voice took on a sarcastic lilt.
“I’m sorry this was foisted on you, Dan.”
“Are you?” His cousin wasn’t ready to let go of his anger. “Are you, really?”
“Perhaps not.” Marek’s voice rose in reply. “I left you in charge, but that seems to have been an error. Apparently, I made a grave mistake since you can’t even control one young girl.”
“I might remind you I’m not exactly the expert on handling women of any age.” There was no sympathy in Dan’s voice.
“So, you’re finally admitting it?” Marek’s laugh was abruptly cruel in retaliation. “That’s a relief. Do you control boys better?”
Someone gasped. Then there was silence, stark and shocked, lasting several moments before Dan said, rigidly, “That was low, Marek, and something I never expected to hear from you.”
Turning, he stalked through the study door to the stairs, saying to Étienne, who was watching the trunks being brought in, “Take me to my rooms…”.
“Dan, wait!” Marek followed, the twins, still silent, trailing behind.
His back to them, his cousin stopped at the foot of the stairs.
Seeing the startled look from the butler, Hans-Claud, and the footman still unloading the trunks, Andrei spoke up. “Are we going to remain in your Marquise’s foyer all night or may we be shown to our rooms? Where’s your intended, anyway?”
“Céline had some unavoidable business.” Marek gave his youngest brother a stern look. “You’re certainly cool about this.”
Andrei shrugged. “We’ve put up with this high melodrama for eight months. If one doesn’t get accustomed to it, one might go mad.”
“Where did our little sister go?” Vlad enquired, looking around the foyer.
“Étienne?”
As Marek glanced over at the butler, Hans-Claud and the footman scrambled up the stairs, the trunk between them.
“The young lady asked to be shown to her room, my lord. I escorted her to the suite prepared for her. She’s there now, weeping quite copiously, I believe.”
“I’ll go to her. Get this sorted out.” Marek looked up the stairs.
“Do that.” Dan didn’t turn around,
Across the foyer, the door to Céline’s study opened.
“Cher, they’re here already?” She looked flustered. “Why didn’t you interrupt me?”
There was an immediate unbending of slouches, shoulders going back, hands reaching up to straighten cravats and smooth hair as expressions relaxed. Turning, Dan began to brush the dust off his sleeves, arranging his features into a more pleasant expression.
Marek paused on the stairs, looking down at them.
Céline bestowed smiles upon everyone. She held out a hand to his cousin.
“I apologize for not being here to greet you.” She nodded toward her office. “Some business that wouldn’t wait. You must be Bogdan.”
“No, Madame la Marquise, I’m enchanté.” He bowed over her hand.
“Ah.” Céline looked at Marek over his head. “You got the galanterie that passed by my Marek.”
Before his cousin could say anything else, Marek leaned over the railing and kissed her on the cheek. “Excuse me, chérie, a minor problem with Ruxanda. I must see to the child.”
“Of course.” She nodded permission for him to leave them, turning back to the others as he went up the stairs. “Is your sister ill?”
“An affaire d’coeur, madame.” Dan straightened, releasing her hand. “Her first.”
“La pauvre.” Céline looked sympathetic. “First love. Always so wonderful. Sometimes so tragique.”
Bestowing a brilliant smile upon them, she changed the subject.
“I’m certain you’re all very tired from that long trip. Étienne will show you to your rooms, and after you’ve freshened yourselves, please come to the dining room. I’ll have a light dinner laid.”
She included the twins in her statement, smiling at them and offering her hand to each as they quickly whispered their names, and in fluent French told her they were even more delighted than Dan to meet her. Then, they followed Étienne up the stairs. Their suites were in an opposite wing so they were prevented from seeing or hearing Marek’s reunion with Ruxanda.
* * *
Knocking on her door, Marek was rewarded with a watery, “Who is it?”
“It’s Marek, Xandi.”
“Go away. I hate you,” There were more loud sobs.
“Ruxanda, open this door.” Marek managed to keep his voice quiet.
He looked down the hallway to make certain no servants were in sight to hear this embarrassing exchange. Her only answer was the increased sound of weeping.
“Very well.” He took a deep breath. “If I must, I’ll get the master key.”
“Wait.”
Light footsteps came toward the door. The latch
clicked, and the footsteps retreated. Marek opened the door and went in.
She was seated in a velvet chair at the dressing table, coat and bonnet tossed carelessly on the bed. Her eyes were red-ringed, face splotched and tear-stained. One hand clutched a sodden scrap of lace-trimmed muslin.
“What do you want?” She turned her head away, sniffling loudly.
“Why, I merely wish to welcome my little sister to her new home.” He decided a light approach was needed now.
“Please, Marek, don’t treat me like a child.” Her tone was scornful. “I know why you’re here. If not for my behavior in rushing past you in tears, then because Dan told you. About Joachim and me.”
“You’re right.” He pulled a chair over to hers and sat n in it. “What about Joachim and you? Before I left, we talked. I was under the impression you understood that being human meant you mustn’t…”
She shrugged. “I guess knowing such a thing and putting it into practice are very different. I love him. He loves me. I know it’s wrong but I’d rather die than give him up.”
“You very well could. What can you know of love, anyway?”
“What can you?” She fixed him with a wet stare. “If I remember correctly, you were well over thirty when you met Lily. A fairly absurd age to fall in love for the first time.”
There was ridicule in her gaze.
“I was thirty-seven,” he corrected. “That hardly qualifies me as being in my dotage.”
Ruxanda made a little moue, stating she thought otherwise. With a patience he didn’t feel, Marek sat back in his chair, a flood of emotions battering him.
How in hell am I going to handle this? I could play the big, bad brother and order her to forget him, but I think that would have the opposite effect.
“Very well, Ruxanda, let’s speak of this sanely and unemotionally. If that’s possible.”
“With an attitude like that, how can we?” she snorted.
“You know this can’t go anywhere.” He forced himself to affect a calmness he didn’t feel. “Even if you two had managed to elope, the minute he touched you, it would’ve been your death sentence. Sooner or later, Cézar’d hunt you down.” He took a deep breath. “You do understand that, don’t you?”
“I…” She hesitated, then her chin quivered as she nodded. “Yes. Oh, Marek, I didn’t mean to be disobedient, truly I didn’t. It’s only that I enjoyed being with him so. I kept telling myself it couldn’t hurt as long as we didn’t do anything.”
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