by Wendy Burge
“Excuse me,” she murmured with distracted deference while she, as inconspicuously as she could before four hundred and fifty guests, left the imperial dining room. Casting a furtive glance over her shoulder, she was relieved to see that Robert had not noticed her sudden departure.
Reaching the main entrance, she impatiently secured the attendance of a footman, and with him lighting her way, she grabbed up her skirts and ran the short distance to the Varek’s residence.
Upon her entrance the majordomo bowed low, intoning solemnly, “Your highness.”
Too worried to correct him, she demanded to see the archduke.
“Yes, your highness. Follow me, if you please.” With stately decorum he marched ahead of her. Angered at his slowness, she almost trod upon his heels in her haste to see Varek. She was not led to any of the receiving rooms but taken upstairs. With the climbing of each riser, her dread grew apace, till she was sweating beneath the wispy fabric of her evening gown.
He swung open the large door leading into the master suite and without waiting for an invitation she pushed impatiently past the irritating man and hurried into the sitting room. It was empty.
Heart pounding, she called out, “Varek?” as she ran through the large rooms she remembered so well. When she reached the bedroom door she flung it wide and stumbled to a halt, gaping at the scene before her.
Varek was laid out on bloody sheets, two prominent physicians bending over him and several servants hurrying to and fro at their clipped commands.
Her world tilted alarmingly and the room faded to a fuzzy gray as she fought the urge to swoon right there. “Varek,” she whispered, her steps wandering like those of a sleepwalker to the foot of his bed. He looked dead.
Dead.
Her eyes drifted closed and she swayed.
“Joseph, grab her!” A sharp command jumped out at her.
When an arm encircled her, she weakly shrugged it off. “No, I’m all right.”
“Thank God, I haven’t time for you now.”
Opening her eyes she watched as both men bent over Varek again. Questions crowded her tongue but she bit them off, not wanting to distract them from their important mission. Hands clenched into her delicate skirts, she never missed a thing as the hour ticked on slowly. Bowl after bowl of bloody water was disposed of before the doctors were happy with their results. Her breath hitched painfully as she scrutinized every beloved inch of his battered body. It mattered not a whit to her, but it was so sad to think that he would come away from this terrible night forever scarred, a constant and bitter reminder of the horrific pain he had endured. Whoever had done this had done their job well.
Robert’s animated face, his strange behavior that evening flashed through her mind. No! He couldn’t have been a party to this atrocious act.
After what seemed like an eternity, the doctors finally stepped away and turned toward her, bowing. “Your highness,” Dr. Clibourne greeted her with grave awkwardness.
Why did everyone connected with Varek insist on calling her such? Again, she didn’t take the time to correct them. “Will he be all right?” The question caught in her throat.
With a sigh, Dr. von Schulenberg, answered, “It is hard to say, your highness. His injuries are extensive, but, thank God, mostly minor.
The head wound is deep and may have caused a concussion. We will not know till he awakens. The swelling around his abdomen looks suspicious of internal injuries; however, if an organ is ruptured or merely bruised we will have to wait and see. A fever could foretell peritonitis.” He stopped abruptly at her look of horror. Clearing his throat, he turned away and began to pack up his tools.
Christina’s nails began to shred the silk at her thighs. Biting her lip, she looked over every inch of Varek’s exposed body, and every inch she saw made her want to weep in fear and rage. “What can I do?”
“Just stay with him.” Dr. Clibourne counseled her. “He was calling for you earlier. Your tender touch and soothing voice will contribute much toward his recovery, I doubt not.”
Both men quickly shrugged themselves back into their coats and then gathered up their satchels. She watched, feeling helpless, as they strode for the door. “We will look in on him during the night, your highness, but if you need us, rooms have been provided for us and we will be just down the hall.”
After their departure Christina sat down carefully on the bed beside Varek. She so wanted to touch him, but was afraid of hurting him further. After an indecisive moment, she reached out and soothed his dirty hair away from the puffy stitches above his right eye.
And there she stayed through the long, lonely hours of the interminable night, afraid to move an inch from his side. It didn’t even occur to her to send a message to Robert.
Later that night she felt heat radiating from his bruised flesh; the fever had set in. She started as he moaned low, his legs twitching. Petrified, she jumped to her feet and ran into the sitting room where Varek’s valet dozed. Soon the man was running to fetch the doctors and Christina returned to Varek’s side. Not knowing what else to do, she wrung out a linen in the cold water by his bed and lightly wiped the sweat from his face and neck.
His head whipped to the side. “Christina,” he moaned, the sound a mere sigh.
“I’m here, Varek,” she quickly assured him as she gently took his hand in her own. When his fingers clenched with bruising force about her hand she cried out. Immediately, he relaxed his hold, but he didn’t let go of his lifeline. The heat emanating from his skin seared her, and her panic rose apace with it. She sighed with relief when the doctors strode in, dressed in chamber robes, and swept her aside. Once again she could do no more than stand back and watch with trepidation as Varek’s fate was taken out of her hands.
But, Varek seemed not to like this situation at all. As soon as her hand had been taken from his, he grew agitated, twisting with painful grimaces, his rough whispers calling to her.
“Please, doctor, let me just touch him. Maybe it will ease him.” Her hands were wringing the bedpost. With a curt nod of their heads, both learned men agreed and one waved her impatiently to the head of the bed, out of their way. Quickly she slipped onto the bed, close to his head and bending low, she stroked his hair and whispered soothingly into his ear. Immediately his struggling stopped and he fell limp beneath the doctors’ administration.
Von Schulenberg looked up with a grunt and tossed her a lopsided smile. “I wish he was always this well-behaved,” he teased with a jovial grin.
Christina responded with a stiff smile of her own; her first since this nightmare of an evening began. “Well now, that wouldn’t be the archduke, would it? One thing his highness never was and that was a submissive patient.”
“Watch your tongue, lark,” Varek croaked painfully.
With a start, she looked down at him and almost cried when she barely saw his beautiful eyes beneath the mottled folds of swollen tissue. Without thinking, she asked in a rush. “How do you feel, my love?”
“Lark, that has got to be the most asinine thing I have ever heard you utter.”
She looked up with shining eyes. “Thank God. He’s going to be just fine.”
The Archduke of Austenburg merely grunted, then flung a foul curse at the good doctors’ heads.
∞∞∞
The first thing Christina noticed when she woke was that dawn had come. The second was that every bone in her body ached from sitting propped in the roomy chair pulled up to Varek’s bed. With a start, she blinked her vision into focus and leaned over to check him. She smiled when she became aware of him watching her, then her lips stiffened as she strained to maintain the smile. He looked so awful. His pain must be excruciating. Again her body ached as she shared his trauma, every nerve-ending in her body empathizing.
Varek tried to smile back, but only was able to manage a painful grimace. His hand moved feebly, reaching out toward her. When she took it into her warm ones, she heard him sigh. “I’m glad you’re here, lark,” he rasp
ed.
She turned quickly and filled a glass with water. Sitting on the bed, she propped him up very carefully and held the rim to his parched lips. It was a relief to watch him greedily drink down the whole glass. Her lips quirked as she asked him whimsically, “Will you bite me if I ask how you are?”
His distorted face turned up to squint at her. “How do I look?”
“Terrible,” she assured him candidly.
“Exactly how I feel.” She could feel his searching scrutiny. “You don’t look much better. Why don’t you go to your apartment and get some rest. I will see you later.” He held his breath, waiting for her answer.
Her hesitation was minute. “No, I prefer to stay here and tend to you. If you don’t mind, that is?” She avoided his gaze and set herself to straightening his bedclothes.
“Then do me a favor.” His voice was weakening again.
“Anything.”
“Lay down here beside me and get some rest. We can’t both be dead on our feet.”
Her heart stepped up alarmingly as Christina studied the narrow width of bed left open beside his sprawled body. Even though she was doubtful that she would attain anything close to a restful respite, in her exhaustion she had to admit that the bed did look inviting.
“Please, my love,” he whispered wearily. “I will rest easier knowing you are here beside me.”
Biting her lip, Christina searched his battered face and again she wanted to cry. Never had she seen Varek so helpless, and she felt cast adrift. She wanted back the forceful, charismatic man that she had loved her entire life. It didn’t matter that the last weeks had been hell for her, with him shadowing her every move. Anything was preferable to him lying before her crippled with such pain. Without another word she laid down beside him, her shoulder barely touching his. After a moment she felt the brush of his fingers as he reached for her hand.
Her hand turned into his, and gently they held on, both afraid that if they broke contact the other would be gone. In minutes they were asleep, their bodies and souls in accord and at rest for the first time in years; both sharing the same dream, both smiling.
∞∞∞
As night faded into a pale gray on the horizon, Robert sat motionless, but for his narrowed eyes, which followed the path of a murky shadow on the wall across from him. It crept along inch by interminable inch as it struggled to keep ahead of the advent of the rising sun, the last warrior of a dying night. Brooding, Robert sat in silence watching the progress of each of those bloody inches. Each inch heralded another minute that Christina hadn’t come back to him. He knew where she was, though and he wanted to kill them both.
When the shadow had finally lost its age-old battle with its nemeses, Robert surged to his feet and started for the door. His bloodshot eyes were grim as he made his way to the royal residence of the Archduke of Austenburg and any hapless pedestrian that was unfortunate enough to cross his path made way promptly.
There could be no doubt in any of their minds as they turned to watch the disheveled foreigner that murder would be done in Vienna today.
Chapter Nine
Christina was spooning broth between Varek’s swollen lips when the door opened silently.
“Baron Hager, your highness,” the irritating majordomo intoned as slowly as he was prone to move. Christina set aside the bowl and disposed of the linen spread across Varek’s chest. It was clear that Varek was none too happy to see the Chief of Police. She felt her own shiver of unease as she turned to face the baron. She had never like the man.
Clicking his heels together smartly, the baron bowed low. “Your highness. Lady Basingstoke.” If he was surprised to see her in Varek’s private apartment so early in the morning no sign could be discerned on his impassive face. Knowing the baron, his spies had informed him the moment she had walked into the royal apartments last night. Baron Franz Hager prided himself on knowing everything about everyone. Being around him was much like stepping in horse manure—hard to get rid of. He always seemed to be around, lingering in the air.
“How are you faring, your highness?” The man’s lips barely moved, his hooded eyes missing nothing.
Christina’s lips twitched slightly as she looked sideways at Varek. “I should warn you, my lord, that his highness doesn’t like being asked that question. What have you found out?” She didn’t need to know if he was on the trail of the men who had attacked Varek last night; she just took it as a foregone conclusion that he already had his nose in it.
The baron’s gaze shifted deferentially to her and again he bowed, the click of his heels irritating. Officious little weasel, Christina thought unkindly, avoiding his shifty gaze. He still had that nervous tick in his right eye that seemed to emphasize the rat-like gleam in his beady eyes. Even as he bowed and toadied up to the elite of Europe, he was busy sniffing about for all the filth he could glean.
“Indeed, my lady, we have found out very little. The third man was found early this morning. His throat slashed. Nearly decapitated, he was.”
Christina turned to Varek, shocked. He was staring at the baron with a stillness that set her heart to racing. “How unfortunate,” he murmured, a thread of frustrated anger discernible even through the rasping pain.
“We are looking into the families of the three men, but it will take some time. In the meantime, with your highness’s approval, I shall set some of my men to guard you.”
“No.”
Christina clasped her shaking hands. “But, Varek…”
“No,” he cut her off abruptly.
Angry, she clenched her lips shut, refusing to look at him or the baron. Her back stiff, she moved to look out the window. It was with some surprise she noticed how high the sun had climbed.
“Do you have any information you could impart to help in this investigation, your highness? Have you any knowledge of anyone who would want to see you dead?”
Christina spun around and saw both men’s eyes watching her with unwavering interest. Biting down on the retort she longed to spit at them, she instead stared Varek down, daring him to voice his suspicions. God help her, for she couldn’t deny to herself that they were also her own suspicions.
“No. No one, Franz.” She exhaled slowly, unaware she had even been holding her breath.
The baron bowed again. “Very well—”
He was cut off when the door was flung open again, this time with brutal force. Robert strode into the room, two of Varek’s footmen tumbling into the room after, still trying to restrain the intruder. Robert didn’t even notice as Varek waved the servants out, for his glaring attention was riveted on Christina standing by the window, the full sun illuminating her disheveled appearance as she was still wearing her formal attire from last eve. Stepping further into the room, Robert stopped not far from her, rage radiating from him and kept under control by the merest thread.
Just now realizing she had failed to send a message to him last night informing him of her whereabouts, she felt irritated with herself for causing Robert such worry. But otherwise she felt guiltless of any wrong doing. There had been many times in the past when he had not bothered to inform her where he would be when he so precipitously disappeared, sometimes for days, without a word to her. She had trusted him, she was only entitled to the same consideration she gave him. Without a word, she cocked her chin at a militant angle and stood her ground.
“I knew I would find you here,” he spat, his anger making him careless.
“Basingstoke, you know Baron Hager, I presume,” Varek’s voice broke into the brewing argument.
Blinking, as if waking from a dream, Robert turned about slowly and stared with incomprehension at the baron and then at Varek. His eyes widened as he took in the archduke’s battered face and body. “What in bloody hell happened to you?” he sputtered in amazement.
Christina relaxed, a smile softening her mouth as she went to stand beside Robert. He looked too surprised to be anything but innocent of the foul deed.
“I had come here w
ith the intention of killing you; however, it seems someone has had the jump on me. Too bloody bad of him not to have finished the job. But,” Robert shrugged, “there you have it. Tell me who it is so I can tender him my gratitude.”
Varek laughed, then groaned as pain bombarded his body. The baron didn’t find it quite so amusing. “Where were you last night, my lord?”
Robert continued to examine his foe. “At the Hofburg, as you damn well know. Then I went home. Alone.” He then turned fully toward Hager. “As you are no doubt aware. Demme, you probably know of my whereabouts better than I, with all the rats you have scurrying about.” Then he turned his fulminating glare upon his wife. “You could have sent me a message, y’know.”
“I’m sorry, Robert, I wasn’t thinking very clearly.” She would pay for this little misdeed later. If she had been lectured before for her imagined transgressions, he was going to have a jolly good time with this episode.
“No you never do when he is involved.”
She stiffened, but it was Varek’s voice that snapped out at Robert. “Watch yourself, Basingstoke.”
The baron looked on with morbid interest, a small smile curling his thin lips.
“If that’s everything, Franz,” Varek’s rough whisper dismissed him.
With another curt bow, the baron withdrew, leaving the two adversaries alone, with the viscountess standing as a buffer between them.
There was a strained silence between the three of them after the door had closed on the baron, and no one seemed in a hurry to break it. Finally, Robert turned to Christina and announced in a weary voice, “Mayhap you are right, my dear, and it is time for you to go home.”
Christina’s breath hitched, whether in joyous relief or disappointment, she wasn’t quite sure. She so wanted to see Eddie again, but to leave Varek, when he was so ill. She bit her lip, now at a loss as what to do. If only Robert had done this a day ago she would have fled without a backward glance. Now it wasn’t so easy with Varek laid up in bed, perhaps internally bleeding to death at this very moment.