Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat and asked again, “Then what is wrong?”
Sergei was looking down at their clasped hands, and seeing how tiny and helpless hers looked, he almost changed his mind. Then he thought of Varek trying to stay one step ahead of Bröchre. Swallowing, he told her gently, “I have decided to go back to Austenburg with Varek.”
Christina jerked her hand from his and reared back. “What?”
Steeling himself, he looked up and saw the look of betrayal staring back at him. “I have to go, Christina.”
“Why?” she demanded angrily. “I need you here.”
Standing, he wandered over to the window, rubbing his aching eyes. He started when he felt her behind him. She laid her head on his back. “I am so sorry, Sergei. That was thoughtless of me. If this is what you need to do, then of course you must go. It's just that...” Her voice broke, and he heard her take a deep breath. “It seems all my life you have been the one constant I could rely on. I am going to miss you.”
Turning, he pulled her up into his arms. “It won't be forever, Christina. I'll see you again in England. It's just that with this rebellion, Varek will need someone at his back. Once that is over...”
“Please don't, Sergei. Don't commit yourself to me and then torture yourself if you find you can't keep it.” Leaning back from him, she looked deeply into his troubled gaze. “Just promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“Remember that you always have a home with me.”
He smiled tenderly down at her. “I know that, Christina. You don't have to tell me.”
Smiling sadly back at him, she kissed his cheek. “When will you be leaving?”
“That depends on Varek, of course.”
Frowning, she moved away from him and wandered aimlessly about the room. He saw her cast him a sideways glance. “I worry that there is something you are keeping from me. I felt it with Varek, too.”
Though his gaze faltered, he remained stubbornly silent.
Sighing, she fiddled with her brush and comb on her dressing table. “What will happen when the duchy is dissolved?”
Shrugging, Sergei leaned against the wall. “I would imagine that Varek will probably settle onto one of his outlying estates.”
She nodded. Wetting her lips, she turned about and looked him squarely in the eye, and he had never seen her look more serious. “There is one more thing I want you to promise me.”
“Anything,” he repeated softly.
“If something should happen to Varek", she closed her eyes briefly, then continued, “you must bring Tina to me. I don't think the emperor would find fault with that.”
Sergei saw how hard this was for her, for just the thought of Varek leaving this world was wrenching for her, but even so she was still looking out for him by caring for and loving his daughter. Nodding, he stated without hesitation, “I know Varek would approve, and the emperor will honor his wishes.”
Nodding briskly, she turned quickly away and moved toward the door. “I have to check on Robert,” she announced and then was gone.
His hands dug deep in his pockets, Sergei turned to watch the endless wave of humanity flow by on the streets below, and worried whether he was doing the right thing.
* * * *
The following days were hell on earth for Christina. Robert only seemed to get worse, his abusive tantrums unending, and every hour she dreaded that Sergei would tell her that he and Varek were leaving. Even though she had been assured of Varek's well-being, she was still so tempted to go and see for herself that she found herself pacing the floor in her anxiety. But they had said their good-byes and she must content herself with that painful reality.
Plus the doctors had her testy and snappish for she was getting fed up with them telling her that her husband was mending when she couldn't see any of these improvements. The severed flesh was just as inflamed and hot, and day by day she watched in fear as the telltale streaks of infection could be seen to rise higher into his groin. This, they assured her, was not unusual as his body fought off the effects of the fever. It would just take time.
And it was time that Robert didn't want to give himself. Every waking moment he was railing at her that he wanted to go home, and often she was tempted to bundle him into a coach and send him on his way just to silence him. She was becoming weak from exhaustion and lack of food as her appetite was nonexistent. She was ready to tear her hair out by the roots, and for the first time she couldn't turn to Sergei to solve her problems, for she did not wish to burden him further. He had his own problems now, and she had to keep reminding herself that they no longer included her. As much as she wished she could be angry with him, she couldn't. For too many years he had selflessly held his life in abeyance as he took care of her; it was time to let him go and learn to stand on her own. She was thankful, knowing that Varek and Sergei were reunited, and she wished them Godspeed.
After a week of battling Robert she finally admitted defeat and told Laure that they would be leaving as soon as she could make the arrangements. Perhaps when Robert was home he would settle down and begin to heal. He certainly wasn't doing himself any good constantly battling her. When she spoke with Wellington, he graciously supported her decision and offered a cavalry regiment to escort them safely home.
Even Helen offered to come with her, which set her mind further at ease. They would be fine, she assured herself, as she prepared herself for the long trek back to Kerkmoor.
Kerkmoor! And her baby!
* * * *
On the morning of their departure, Christina watched as Robert, heavily dosed with laudanum, was carefully settled into the huge traveling coach, with the interior benches opened out to form a bed. It had cost her a handsome sum to purchase the vehicle, but seeing how comfortably Robert was resting in it, she knew it was worth every penny. Helen was to follow in a second coach that was loaded with the luggage, plus a few other wounded soldiers who lived not far from Kerkmoor. Having met them while she was at Wellington's headquarters in Waterloo, she had sent them a note, offering them space in the second carriage, which they had gratefully accepted.
Hearing a familiar voice behind her, she turned to see Wellington striding up to her, a smile on his handsome face. “My lady, I had to come and wish you Godspeed. How is that heroic husband of yours doing?” Stepping past her, he peered into the coach and nodded approvingly. “I am sorry to have missed seeing the princess off yesterday.”
Laure had left early yesterday to return to Vienna with her husband. It had been the farewell of a dear friend that Christina swore she would not lose again; so they had made each other promise that this was not goodbye for them and that they would see each other again.
Pulling on her gloves, Christina asked, “And when will you be leaving, your grace?”
“We will be heading for Paris shortly. There is much to do for my men in the aftermath of such carnage.”
Shaking her head, Christina smiled up at him. “You have always confused me, you must realize. I have never met a military man who has such a distaste for war as you do. How do you manage it?”
“I never let myself dwell on it for too long, I suppose. It is the tactics of warfare that fascinate me, where the reality of it appalls me. To see so many worthy men lose life or limb is of course, inevitable; but if by employing the proper strategies I can reduce the losses than I will feel I have done my duty to England.”
“Hear, hear,” she whispered. “I also wanted to thank you for your generous offer of one of your regiments to escort us.”
“Please, my lady, no need. These gallant men are due for a leave, and they are also carrying dispatches to Castlereagh, so it is no trouble a'tall. Indeed, I thank you for offering the comfort of your coach to my men.” She noticed him looking over her shoulder before he said quietly, “I believe there is someone else who wishes to bid you farewell, so I shall take my leave of you.” Taking her hand, he bowed over it. “Godspeed, my lady. It has been one of
the great pleasures of the Congress to have met you. Hopefully, we will soon meet again, in our own beloved England.”
As he walked away to speak with two wounded men who were standing beside the second carriage, Christina turned around and froze. Varek was standing before her, looking incredibly handsome to her starved heart.
He was drinking in the sight of her as he greeted her softly, “Hello, lark.”
Raising her hand, she touched his lean cheek, and his hand covered hers, holding it tightly against his face. Her voice quavered as she murmured, “Thank you for coming. I so wanted to see you to assure myself that you were indeed well.”
He grinned at her. “Hale and hearty, as you can see.”
Off to the side, she noticed Sergei standing not too far off, searching the crowds around him with alert eyes. Confused, she noticed they were actually surrounded by Varek's own elite guard, plus an added force of the emperor's personal guard. They were all suspiciously alert, hands held close to their weapons. Frowning, she looked again at Varek.
“I was sorry to hear about Robert. Is there anything I can do?” He truly did sound regretful, and she couldn't help but try to lighten this last moment left to them.
“Well,” she teased, playfully tugging on a yellow frog on his tunic, “you could give me back Sergei.”
Sergei, hearing this, flashed her an impudent grin. Grinning himself, Varek bantered back, “Oh, no you don't. It's my turn to have him.”
Christina gave him a mock pout. “Then I suppose the only other thing you can do for me is to take care of him.”
“Without a doubt.” His gaze softened as he continued to stare into her eyes.
She moved in closer and rose up on her toes. Taking his face between her hands, she pulled him closer till their lips were a breath away. “And take care of yourself, my love. And never forget that I will wait for you forever.”
His arms swept around her and their lips met and burned with the fever of regret and loss. Feeling herself falling apart, she pushed herself out of his arms. She then hurried over to Sergei and they embraced tightly, wordless in their grief. Not trusting herself to look at either of them again, she ran to the coach and let a footman help her in.
As soon as the door closed, Varek was there, his hand extended to her. She grasped it tightly, and as the coach moved forward, he walked beside her. Just as their hands were ripped apart, he rasped out to her. “One day, Christina. I promise you, one day I will find you again!”
Tears streaming down her cheeks, she leaned back against the cushions, her hands pressed against her mouth, holding back the wrenching sobs that threatened to consume her. Glancing at Robert, she was startled to see him staring at her. His gaze was unfocused, drugged. Without a word, his eyes closed and he seemed to fall into a deep sleep.
She could only pray that he had not been a witness to her parting from Varek.
Twenty-three
The trip home took several weeks, and were some of the worst days of Christina's life. Even heavily drugged most of the time to mitigate his pain as much as she dared, Robert's moans filled the coach, and she lived in constant dread that he wasn't going to make it. His fever never seemed to lessen, though she thought it a good sign that it didn't get worse either. But what had her terrified most was that the leg refused to show signs of healing. She was thankful that in the regiment escorting them was a medical student, Henry Mason, who seemed to know what was needed and took over the application of medications and the changing of Robert's dressing, which had to be done more than was normal due to the putrid stains that quickly saturated the linen. When the young man gave his grim assessment of Robert's progress and offered the suggestion that they take him to a hospital in Calais, she immediately made plans to do so. However, when Robert became aware of her intention, he became so hostile and uncontrollable, she gave in with frustrated reluctance and instead concentrated on finding a ship that would take them directly to London. The only thing that seemed to go her way on the hellish journey was that she almost immediately found a captain who was making ready to sail that very afternoon.
She was doubly thankful for the company of Helen and with Sergei no longer there to lean on, she found herself turning more and more to the young woman as a source of friendship. Perhaps because of the constant anxiety, perhaps because of a deep sense of loneliness, she felt a compelling need to confide in this empathic soul. And, strangely enough, it helped tremendously. She felt lighter, as if sharing her troubles seemed to lessen them. Trusting Helen as she did, it was easier for her to leave Robert in her care and relax on deck with Katie for company. These stolen moments of relaxation were her first since learning of Robert's injury.
When the ship docked in London, Christina put her foot down and turned a deaf ear to Robert's angry demands that they continue on to Kerkmoor. She adamantly refused to go further than the St. Pole London residence, where she could finally send for a doctor. Before she had even left Brussels Sergei had sent a courier ahead to warn the duke of Robert's condition, and to alert the London staff of their coming, and she almost collapsed in relief when she spotted the Kerkston livery on a young man who was obviously prowling the docks, looking for their arrival on every ship that docked. As soon as she hailed him over, he blew his whistle that soon had other Kerkston footmen running to her assistance, while one of the young men took off to notify the town house of their arrival.
Closing her eyes, Christina leaned her head back and breathed in the sooty, salty air of England and thought she had never smelled anything as lovely. She was once again under the Duke of Kerkston's gentle reach and felt at home already. Feeling a presence at her elbow, she turned to find Helen, who was looking about her with an excited Katie in her arms.
“I never thought I would be so glad to see this filthy city again,” the woman commented wryly as she put the restless puppy down, careful to keep a firm hold on the leash as she began to scamper wildly about, sniffing and barking at any and everything.
Seeing the duke's huge traveling coach pull up, Christina smiled. When the door was opened, she was not surprised to see that it had already been prepared with the benches dropped down to expand out into a bed. Leave it to Edward's staff to be the model of efficiency.
She turned back toward the gangway to see to Robert's transfer into the coach, however, the soldiers seemed to have the situation well in hand as her husband was already on a stretcher and being carried across the plank. For the hundredth time Christina blessed Wellington for his thoughtfulness in providing her such competent men to see to their comfort and safety, and the addition of Henry Mason had been a godsend. She could tell immediately that her husband had been given another dose of laudanum; he was resting on the stretcher with relative calm, looking about himself with dazed disinterest.
Knowing she need worry only about her husband's comfort, she turned her back on the ship and the unloading of their luggage and climbed up into the carriage, settling close beside Robert. She was so eager to see Edward and her son, but she resigned herself to the fact that they were probably still at Kerkmoor, as traveling was too painful for his grace. A few more weeks would not matter much, she convinced herself, and besides, Robert still needed her too much for her to be distracted by her rambunctious son.
Turning to one of the numerous footmen bustling about the carriage, she directed him to fetch the St. Pole's London doctor.
“He is already awaiting you at the town house, my lady,” he assured her as he snapped the carriage door closed and locked it securely. Glancing out the window, she saw Helen escorted to a second coach, and grinned back at the laughing woman, who was holding up the squirming, yapping puppy to show her they were all right and following right behind.
Sighing, Christina turned to check on Robert and was grateful to see that he seemed to be dozing easily. She brushed his hair out of his eyes and leaned down to kiss his forehead, frowning when she felt the increased heat from his flushed face. When would it go away? she fretted as she pulled
out her flask and trickled watered brandy past his dry lips.
“Soon, Robert,” she whispered. “Soon you will be home and tucked in your own bed, and then this nightmare will be over.”
She was surprised when his lids lifted slowly and he stared at her. The look in his gaze froze her, for he was looking at her with the eyes of death, she knew it well by now, for she had seen it staring out at her from the hundreds of corpses littering the streets of Waterloo. Bending nearer, she assured him urgently, “Just a little more, my dear, and everything will be fine.”
He closed his eyes and turned his face away from her.
* * * *
The coach drew up outside the town house. The wheels and hooves sounded muffled, and looking out, she could see that the street had been liberally dusted with sawdust to lessen the noise of the traffic around the town house.
Just as she was stepping down from the coach, the front door flew open and a joyfully squealing boy came hurtling down the steps. She barely had time to open her arms before her son's sturdy body flung itself against her. Hardly believing she was holding her baby, Christina fell to her knees and rocked him in her arms as she cried, holding on tightly as if afraid someone would again wrest him from her.
When she could think straight, she tried to concentrate on his babble, which was not easy as she could barely hear him over the excited barking of his spaniel puppy, which was no longer a puppy but a gangly, flop-eared terror that was bound and determined to join Eddie in her lap. Finally, giving up and laughing joyously, she tumbled backward onto her bottom with a thump that rattled her teeth. Apparently, Helen had also arrived, because Katie now joined the mass of arms and legs and paws that were attacking her.
“Quite a homecoming, wouldn't you say?” an amused voice observed from the top of the steps. When she looked over Eddie's russet curls, she was shocked even more to see Edward, and he was standing! She gaped at him in shock, seeing that he was supporting his thin body between custom-made canes that he held in his white-knuckled grip. He looked a bit unsteady, and if it wasn't for the husky footman standing close behind him, observing his grace's every move with an eagle eye, she feared he might topple over.
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