Love Me Again

by Wendy M. Burge

  Thoughtfully, he turned away to inspect Varek's lances again. It was bound to be a long evening, and he had no intention of letting von Serent out of his sight.

  * * * *

  Christina was definitely feeling none of her earlier anxieties as she watched the handsome knights display their expertise in catching beribboned rings on their ornate lances. She clapped and shouted her approval with the other ladies. None noticed as a hiccup caught her by surprise. She giggled as she leaned over, and thinking she was whispering, shouted into Dorothea's ear, “Aren't they gorgeous?” Seeing a tray of champagne flutes out of the corner of her eye, she eagerly reached behind her.

  Many of the ladies exchanged amused glances, several just as tipsy as the usually sober-minded viscountess.

  “Your valiant knight is surely the most exquisite piece of heaven I have ever seen,” one lady sighed, her gaze pinned on Varek as he galloped by. The archduke made no effort to hide the devilish smile he cast boldly at his love. As Christina stood up to wave, she tottered, then blew him a kiss. Varek's eyes widened as he flashed by, close to the railing. He briefly cast a worried glance over his shoulder before he turned his attention to stabbing another ring. His lance fluttered with the ribbons of a dozen captured rings as he continued on to the opposite end of the arena.

  “He is so clever. Look at all those lovely rings,” Christina crooned as she sat back down, her champagne spilling over the railing and into the sand below. Frowning, she looked down into her empty glass; then, blinking in confusion, she looked around for a footman.

  “I think you have had enough,” the Princess Esterhazy laughed as she waved the attentive young man away. Leaning over, she pried the glass out of Christina's obsessive hold.

  She hadn't had that much, Christina thought. She flinched as the ladies all applauded, standing as they praised the young Prince Trauttmansdorff's performance of charging full tilt, with scimitar in hand, at a cluster of apples suspended on ribbons. With a cavalry yell, his sword slit a ribbon; then while still in midair, he severed the gleaming apple in two.

  Not sure what she was applauding, Christina nonetheless stood and cheered with the others. As the excited ladies settled down into their chairs again, one lady behind her whispered rather loudly, “He has the most nimble fingers! I swear he can titillate you even as you lay between those rock-hard thighs and suck that stallion cock of his. I vow, I've never felt the like before! And talking of delicious!”

  My goodness! Christina giggled as she pictured arms down to the young prince's knees. They'd have to be to reach that far! With interest, her wide eyes searched out the object of such talent. She frowned in disappointment, for his arms didn't look

  so very long. “That is nothing! Have you ever had Tour du Fen suck your nipples as he plunges deeply into you? Divine, simply divine, my dears. You must try him.”

  Christina, mouth agape, looked behind her and found the source of this little bit of generous advice. Petite Marie Gresset, who didn't even reach five feet in height. Heavens, the lady barely reached mid-chest to the French count, who was famous for his towering height. Christina slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the laughter that bubbled forth. The thought of those two in bed together brought all sorts of hysterical pictures to mind. She couldn't help but imagine the lanky gentleman climbing out of bed, his spine bent in half, after servicing his diminutive ladylove. Another spurt of laughter erupted and she slapped her other hand on top of the other as she faced forward, her shoulders shaking.

  Dorothea glanced quizzically at her. “Are you crying?” she asked in alarm.

  Frantically, Christina shook her head. When she was finally able to swallow her giggles she heard the tail end of another snippet of boasting. “...I vow I could feel his tongue touch my womb!”

  Again her hand clamped over her mouth, the nails of her left hand digging into the tender arm of Dorothea, causing the poor girl to jump. Behind her hand she was laughing so hard she could barely draw breath.

  “Did you hear that?” Dorothea demanded as she pried Christina's nails out of her forearm. “Jeanne Marie just said that her lover has hair on his back! Can you imagine anything more repulsive? Christina, let go!”

  Christina had to let go. She was too busy stuffing her veil into her mouth to smother the gasps of hilarity that were now uncontrollable.

  If one paid heed to the experienced ladies about her, she had been given the picture of the perfect lover, a hunchbacked gorilla, arms swinging about his knees and tongue lolling somewhere past his jaws. All that was needed to complete this mad image was this paragon of sexual dexterity drooling in abject adoration of his love. In desperation she gulped for air. Varek didn't stand a chance!

  Dorothea stared at Christina, aghast. “I vow, you cannot hold your champagne. Christina, you are drunk! Stop it! Right now! You are making a spectacle of us. Anyway, the jousting is about to begin.”

  That sobered Christina instantly. Blinking through the tears in her eyes, she sat at the edge of her chair and grabbed hold of the railing. Dizzy, she spit out her veiling, wondering how it had gotten into her mouth.

  The orchestra was swelling with another martial beat as the knights, in two teams of four, aligned themselves on either side of the lists. Unfortunately, Varek was among this first tilt. When the heralds trumpeted the signal, both teams wheeled their horses and charged their challengers, their extended lances trying to lift their opponents from their horses.

  Christina closed her eyes as Varek charged fearlessly into the fray. Her sightless void tilted alarmingly about her as she heard an explosive clashing of men and beasts. Then the hall erupted with the gallery's thunderous cheers.

  Christina shivered. Why did blood sport always drive a crowd to such frenzied heights? she wondered in disgust as she opened her eyes again. At first she couldn't see Varek in the tangle of men and horses. Then she saw him. Fear surged through her. Clamping a hand over pale lips, she thought she was going to be ill.

  * * * *

  “Well, I'll be damned,” Sergei laughed, coming to a skidding halt beside Varek, who was ignobly sprawled on his stubborn arse.

  Varek threw a sour look up at this unwanted help. Wincing, he climbed to his feet, brushing aside Sergei's outstretched arm. “Damn your eyes, Sergei. You have been nothing but ill luck for me. Take your own unabused ass and get the hell out of here!”

  “Oh, ho! I do that and I'll have to deal with a very drunk, very emotional lady. I try never to deal with very drunk, very emotional women. Can hardly reason with them when they are sober, let alone in their cups. Never saw a woman yet who could hold her liquor with any modicum of respect. The darlings just aren't men, after all.”

  Varek listened to this inane diatribe with a withering glare. Then he had the misfortune to look into the twinkling eyes of the audacious bastard and he had to bite his lip till it bled to stop the smile that fought to betray him. God, how he missed Sergei's pointless banter that could lighten any situation. He watched as Sergei turned and gave Christina a jaunty bow.

  Directing his ire where he felt it belonged, Varek growled as he too looked down the arena at the dais. “I knew it!” Just as he had feared, in her nervousness she had imbibed too much. Knowing what the coming evening would bring, Varek cursed foully. So much for his erotic intentions that night! It could have been so perfect.

  Grabbing hold of his horse's reins, the two men quickly left the floor as the next sets took their places. “Mayhap you'd be more useful seeing to her until I'm done with these blasted games.” He had to have been insane to get involved with this infantile show, especially when his ex-mistress's new lover was out to prove some undefined point of honor.

  “Absolutely not. I was instructed to stick to you like tar, your highness.”

  “Well, much good you were when von Serent's hit landed under my shield.” Scowling, Varek glared over his horse's back at the nuisance across the arena. He cursed long and viciously as he watched von Serent receive another flower
from the vindictive ex-lover. Looking up, Sophy gave Varek a taunting smile, then blew him a kiss. He looked away in disgust.

  Sergei scratched his chin reflectively. “Shall I inform the heralds-of-arms of the illegal pass? Clearly none of them caught it.”

  “Hell, no! I want to get that bastard in the next round. It is time he knows who he is dealing with. After I'm done with the little worm he'll be lucky if he can climb between her greedy thighs in a month!” Another groan escaped Varek's lips, and he rubbed his burning gut. His chest ached under the deep dent in his chest piece.

  “Just be careful. You don't want to get yourself disqualified.”

  “Whenever have you known me to do anything dishonorable?” Varek charged in a scathing retort as he turned away.

  Sergei just quirked a brow at his friend's back.

  * * * *

  “See there,” Princess Esterhazy soothed as she rubbed Christina's back. “He is just fine.” Christina nodded numbly. She felt so ill. All she wanted to do was get out of there, away from the heat and the thundering noise of over a thousand voices. Swallowing thickly, she held a hand to her throbbing temple.

  When a cool cloth was thoughtfully pressed against her warm forehead, she sighed in relief. “Thank you,” she murmured, not really caring who had performed the merciful act. “I don't know how much more of this I can take. I think I really do need to lie down before I swoon at your feet ... or,” she swallowed deeply, “...or worse.”

  “Nonsense,” Dorothea announced brightly. “Just sit still and draw in deep breaths. The dizziness will pass soon enough. It always does for me. I never realized you drank so much,” she added in awe.

  Christina shuddered, and her mouth felt like cotton. “Please, could I have a glass of water?”

  “Of course, my dear. Right away.” The princess turned in her seat and whispered to the footman who had arrived promptly at her elbow. Turning back, she patted Christina's hand, which was clamped with a death grip on the arm of her chair. “Now, just take it easy. The archduke is going to expect your support during the next skirmish, do not forget.”

  Good heavens! Christina looked up quickly and gasped as the arena tipped alarmingly before her. “Are you sure he is well?”

  “But of course. They would not allow him to mount again if he wasn't. The emperor himself would see to that.”

  When the glass of cool water appeared over her shoulder, she grabbed it and tried to swallow the entire contents in one long pull. However, the glass was yanked from her hand as her two companions tsked at her. She was ordered to drink slowly; then, thankfully, it was held to her lips again. As demanded, she sipped slowly as she took the glass back into her trembling hands.

  When Dorothea's squeal of delight shot like a bolt of lightning behind her eyes, Christina almost dropped the glass. Dorothea jumped to her feet, clapping and waving her veil. Her cavalry officer must have done something right, though at that moment Christina could have hardly cared less. With a groan, she pulled on Dorothea's skirts to get her to sit down again. “Please, my friend,” whispered Christina, “if you are indeed my friend, could you please not shout.”

  Dorothea looked hurt, indignant and apologetic all at once. “But I wanted Karl to hear me.”

  How could Christina argue with this bit of romantic logic?

  Would this night never end?

  Fourteen

  Varek ignored the good-natured jostling of the men around him as he almost rudely squeezed himself through the crowd of battered, happy knights. Thank God, this interminable night was over! He couldn't even remember why he had agreed to participate in the farcical extravaganza. What had it brought him but a sore arse, an aching gut and one hell of a guilty conscience? Again he saw young von Serent's expressionless face as he lay before the doctors’ probing hands and questions. Varek hoped to God that those learned men were wrong. Not to ever walk again...

  Disgusted with the revelry around him, Varek quickly strode out of the room provided for the knights’ use and made his way down the long corridor, side stepping the tide of people going in the opposite direction. Hopefully, if he hurried, he might find Christina still on the dais.

  Christina had been right, as usual. He had been a fool to participate in an event that should have been left to the young. He was ashamed to admit it to himself, but he knew why he had gotten swept up in the seduction of a fantasy. In a weak moment he had had the puerile, idiotic notion that flaunting his skills before Christina would impress her. He would wear her colors and win honors for her. The humbling fact was, she hadn't been impressed at all, instead she had gotten herself drunk! A spurt of reluctant laughter passed his bruised lips. Lord, what a mess this evening had turned out to be. Next time he talked himself into such an insane situation he would have Sergei slap some sense into him.

  Von Serent's face again plagued him as he continued through the maddening throng. Over and over, those last fatal minutes of the mock battle twisted and shifted about in his mind. Maybe there was something else he could have done to bring the young fool down? Something he should have said when he had a sense of what was coming? But no matter how many times or in how many different ways he replayed the damned scene in his mind, it always had the same unfortunate ending. He had had no choice but to repel von Serent's attack exactly as he had. Would he ever forget the sight of the young count being taken from the field in disgrace, his father turning his back on his only son? Attacking a man's back could not be condoned as anything but what it was, the act of a dishonorable man.

  Varek's temper, not at its best at that moment, only flared higher, when, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the cause of today's debacle. Smiling and laughing with a conscienceless frivolity that made Varek grit his teeth in enraged frustration, Sophy sauntered along with the crowd preparing to depart for the main ballroom. So much for flying to her lover's side in agonized devotion, Varek fumed as he continued on his way, not trusting himself to contain his temper if he was forced to confront her.

  Unfortunately, Sophy turned at that moment and caught sight of him. Immediately, she crossed the busy corridor and darted his way. Biting back a particularly vulgar curse, he tried to step around a group of giggling ladies, in the vain hope of avoiding her. No such luck, for she was too intent on her prey to give up easily.

  “Varek, darling,” Sophy purred, her claws latching onto his sleeve.

  Taking a deep breath, he stopped short. His hands clenched as he swung around on her, shaking off her hold. “You had best stay out of my way,” he warned coldly as he stepped away from her encroaching presence.

  Her eyes widened in a pretense of hurt. “I just wanted to compliment you on your valiant play in the games. A truly heroic knight, to show such mercy where none was given.” Her low, breathy voice grated on his already strained nerves.

  Varek couldn't believe the gall of the woman. For a long moment he contemplated the wall behind her, his expression flat. “Listen to me, madam.” His distaste for her was all too evident in his steely voice. “Since it is obvious you have no intention of conducting yourself with any integrity, then so be it. You leave me no recourse but to treat you accordingly.” His gaze suddenly shifted down.

  Sophy gasped as she involuntarily stepped back. Those famed icy blue irises were frigid with a devouring rage held close on the edge. His glare met her wide eyes full on, and she felt as if his fury would rend her apart. Swallowing hard, her breath accelerating, her hand inched up to clutch her throat, as if to protect that defenseless flesh from the jaws of a ravening beast.

  Through her fear she heard his voice, low and clipped, so very precise. “Your petty vengeance has done irretrievable harm this day. Because of you, a brilliant young man lies paralyzed, and his noble and ancient name has been brushed with the taint of dishonor. Least of which, you have forced my hand to be a part of this sordid mishap.” Leaning down, he pinched her chin between ruthless fingers as he brought her face so close she could feel his breath burn her lips. “List
en to me true, madam. I give you till tomorrow to remove yourself from Vienna. If you ignore me, I shall feel it my duty to seek retribution from you, and that equal to what you have taken from the von Serent family.”

  Sophy tried to pull free from his painful grip, but it only tightened. When tears sprang to her eyes, she saw him smile, the cruel lips curving slowly. “Do we understand one another?”

  Shaken, her face still painfully clutched in his merciless fingers, she whispered back fiercely, defiant to the bitter end. “What could you possibly do to me that you haven't already done? I loved you, damn you!”

  Varek's crack of laughter mocked her words. “Loved me?” he derided callously. Flicking the expensive circlet of diamonds around her wrist with his finger, he taunted her, “This is the only love you know, madam. This is what you dream of, what you covet. As to what havoc I could cause in your life?” His finger brushed with seeming tenderness over her cheek. “Von Serent lost the use of his legs this night. How would you be able to sell your body for such jewels as these with a scar running down your pretty cheek? Would that be retribution enough?” He smiled in genuine amusement this time as his threat sank in and terror flashed across her flawless features. Softly, he drawled, “Perhaps now we understand one another?”

  Through tight lips, she asked, “Do I have a choice?”

  His gaze raked over her, his expression hard as flint. “None.”

  When she said nothing further, he brushed past her and hurried on his way.

  Shaking with the power of her rage, Sophy took a deep breath as she struggled to gather up the shreds of her ravaged pride. When she finally had the courage to look about her, all she saw were malicious smiles spread before her like the evil tides of an approaching storm. Her narrowed gaze swung back to Varek, and she caught a last glimpse of his broad shoulders before he disappeared behind the curtain that led to the dais of the Queens. To lick his lady's feet, no doubt, she thought viciously.