Love Me Again

by Wendy Burge

  “What does it matter what they think? We know what went on here, and you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

  “Except loving you,” she couldn’t help saying sadly as she turned to stare up at him solemnly. Stepping closer to him, she rearranged his cravat, which was hopelessly rumpled. How she missed this simple task.

  His eyes slid shut. “God, lark, don’t say that to me now or I may not let you go.” He grabbed her fussing hands and bent his head to kiss her fingers for a lingering moment before he set her away from him again. He tucked a silken curl behind her ear, then walked toward the door.

  “Will you do me a favor?” Her hesitant question broke the sudden silence between them.

  “Anything.”

  “Forgive Sergei.”

  His lips quirked, and he asked with a comical reluctance, “Must I?”

  Thankful for his attempt to lighten the mood, she offered him a stern frown as she marched up to him. “Yes, you must.”

  “Oh, all right,” he grudgingly agreed like a sulky little boy. Then with an endearing grin, he opened the door, and held out his hand to her. “Are you ready?”

  Supplying her own brave smile, she slipped her hand into his and together they went in search of Tina.

  ∞∞∞

  They found Tina squealing amid a boisterous crowd of children who were scampering about under a huge tree whose golden branches were bowed under the weight of numerous toys and trinkets. Tina immediately spotted her father as they walked into the room. Running over to him, she grabbed his hand and pulled him under one branch where a brightly feathered bird was perched. A golden cord dangled from its jeweled beak, and when Tina tugged the cord a sweet melody trilled forth. Giggling, she looked past her father to Christina, her eyes dancing with delight. Turning back to Varek, she pleaded prettily, “Please, Papa, I want the lark!”

  Varek looked over Tina’s bobbing head at Christina and her breath hitched at the look of such love in his eyes. Then he told Tina in no uncertain terms, “So do I, little love.”

  As the gifts were being raffled off for a charity, they had to wait with an excited Tina inspecting every gift won and stripped from the tree before the auctioneer finally reached her glittering bird. Varek won the bid with his first offer, gasps of surprise floating among the guests at the generosity of his bid.

  The bird was taken down and placed into Tina’s hands. “I will hang her over my bed,” she pronounced as they made their way over to their hostess to extend their thanks for such a joyous fete.

  Princess Maria glanced at Christina and, seeing the wounded look in her eyes behind the polite demeanor, could only assume that all their speculations about what had happened behind that closed door was just that—speculation and nothing more.

  Which was a true pity, for if anyone needed a good tumble between the sheets, it was Christina.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Vienna sparkled under a fresh blanket of snow, and wanting to enjoy the pristine morning Christina persuaded Sergei to accompany her for a stroll in the Prater. He did so, but his heavy-lidded eyes and yawns spoke of a long night; where, she didn’t want to know. To compensate for his kindness, she directed their steps to his favorite kaufeehause and he only started to come alive after a steaming cup was placed in his hands. She smiled when with his first sip, he gave a deep sigh of relief and offered her an audacious wink.

  When she noticed Castlereagh enter the crowded room, she was surprised. It was unusual for this reclusive man to be out and around alone; if he wasn’t escorting the viscountess, or attending some fete where he felt the need to socialize for political reasons, he was buried under a mound of work at the consulate. He barely took the time to find the respite of sleep, let alone idle away important hours at a kaufeehause.

  She waited a few minutes to see if he was here to meet someone, but when it was apparent he was looking about for an empty table, she stood up and hailed him over. A smile of relief seemed to ease the strain on his features upon seeing her, and pausing to acknowledge a few acquaintances on the way, he weaved his way through the tables to her side. He greeted them both, bowing over her hand, and when Sergei held out an empty chair for him, he demurred till she brushed aside his protestations.

  “I must admit I am surprised to see you here, my lord.” Christina told him after they were settled. She looked closely at his face and saw a weariness in his eyes that normally wasn’t there. He appeared defeated, which was absurd for Castlereagh held a tight rein on everything about him. She doubted if the word defeat was even in his vocabulary.

  “I am afraid I suddenly had this urge to get out of my office, and the morning looked so beautiful that I did just that. As my wife was already out, I simply took off on my own.” His words sounded a bit forced, even to himself, and when a cup was placed before him, he applied his attention to sweetening it.

  Castlereagh swallowed a sip of coffee along with his depression, and took this opportunity to inform Christina of the latest information. “I am pleased to tell you that your husband should be back within the next few days.” The expression that flitted across her face was beyond even his intuitive abilities to decipher. However, he had the feeling she was not pleased. “And then on the tail of this, I am sorry to tell you that you will only have him for a few days before I must send him off again. The negotiations are not going as well as we had hoped and I need to communicate with Wellington again. I pray you will not think too unkindly of me, my lady,” he asked with a respectful smile.

  Christina took in his words and felt a myriad of sensations sweep her body, but didn’t seem to know what she felt. Feeling too disjointed to speak of Robert, she queried instead, “Do you see the negotiations reaching a conclusion anytime soon?”

  With a sigh, Castlereagh cast his tired gaze about him, then reluctantly shook his head. “I fear not, my lady. And I am afraid England is not happy with my skill at the table.”

  Christina glanced sharply at him. “How so?” With a shrug, Castlereagh turned back to her with a rueful smile. “How can they be happy with our progress when none has been made? They intimate that I am not forceful enough. Yet when I take a calculated risk they ridicule me for being too rash. I can do nothing right, it seems.” For a moment Christina thought he was going to say more but apparently thought better of it; Castlereagh was nothing if not cautious.

  Suddenly, she understood what he was alluding to, and she was appalled, for if anyone had kept these delicate mediations from falling apart it was this gifted man. “They mean to recall you.” It was not even a question.

  He paused then nodded slightly. “I pray you keep this knowledge to yourselves.” This command was directed across the table at Sergei.

  Sergei gave a solemn nod. “Of course, my lord. On my life.”

  Castlereagh gave him a strained smile, then looked at Christina and explained, “Hence the need for Robert’s attention in this matter. The least amount of people privy to this information the better. If all goes well, the change of England’s authority will cause as little disruption as possible in the negotiations.”

  “Wellington,” she said distantly.

  With an enigmatic smile, he nodded. “Wellington. The situation in Paris has become tenuous, to state it mildly. After the last assassination attempt we all felt it wise to remove him. Bringing him to Vienna to continue with the negotiations solves the problem of getting him out of Paris with honor and the pride of England intact. However, he is still insisting he has much to accomplish in Paris before he can come here. It could be months yet before we see him, if he has anything to say about it.”

  “Months?” She stared at him in horror. She looked at Sergei and saw his own shock. She knew he wanted the Congress over as much as she did.

  Castlereagh sighed at the stunned look on the faces across from him. “I am trying to impress upon him the need to arrive as soon as possible, for Parliament is eager to get me out of here.”

  Christina was beginning to despair of ever seei
ng her son again. Wetting her lips, she asked hesitantly, “Would it be a problem if I was to return to England?” When she saw the beginning of a frown enter his eyes, she quickly added, “It could be just for a visit. But, if you see the Congress progressing into spring, I would like to see my son.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sergei shift in his chair.

  Castlereagh pondered her request, tempted to honor her wish and send her home, but suddenly Massallon caught his eye, and a surreptitious message passed between the two men. Castlereagh glanced at Christina and the pleading hope in her eyes did nothing but exasperate him. He was getting so tired of manipulating people’s lives. He could sympathize with the viscountess for he wanted nothing more than to return to Ireland and forget Europe and England and all the damn responsibilities that were beginning to suffocate him. But he knew what message Massallon had given him with that look. To send Christina away would earn the ire of the emperor’s favorite cousin.

  Biting back an uncharacteristic curse, Castlereagh firmed his resolve and explained tactfully, “I am afraid I can’t allow that, my lady. There is just too much to be done here, and my wife does appreciate your support.” He felt such a surge of guilt as Christina quickly looked down, biting her lips, her distress only too obvious.

  On the spur of the moment he decided to offer her a concession to ease her sorrow—he was, after all, a diplomat, he thought wryly. “However, I see no reason why your son could not visit you here. In truth, he is of an age where he might actually enjoy the excitement of a trip, and Lord knows there are enough children among the Congress to keep him company.” They both knew he was referring to the hoards of children present last night at Princess Maria’s diminutive ball.

  He finally felt a sense of accomplishment with his political prowess when a glow of gratitude shone from Christina’s beautiful eyes. It was disheartening to think it was his first in weeks.

  “My lord, that sound like a wonderful idea.” She paused as a shadow of a frown flitted across her face. After a moment, she entreated, “If you could perhaps mention it to Robert? He would listen to you.”

  Meaning the man didn’t listen to his wife, Castlereagh assumed with a flash of anger at the dolt. The man should have sent for her son a month ago when they were all aware of the slow progress of the Congress. Unfortunately, he was becoming disenchanted with the ambitious young viscount since the Congress. Perhaps he should just transfer Basingstoke’s service to Wellington’s staff now and be done with it. Let the duke straighten him out; he was used to dealing with the sulks of young men. After all, he had an army of them to deal with.

  “Of course I will, my dear. I will discuss it with him as soon as he arrives. Well…” he quickly finished his coffee is one long swallow. “I need to get back to my work.” Standing, he bowed over her hand. “This has been a pleasure. Thank you for inviting me to join you.” Then with a nod to Sergei, he was gone, his strides long and hurried, as if he couldn’t wait to get back to his office.

  Christina turned to Sergei with shining eyes. “Oh, Sergei, to see Eddie again! Come, let’s go make the arrangements!” With that giddy thought, she was up and hurrying out of the crowded room.

  Sergei followed more slowly, concerned about how Robert was going to take another directive in regards to his wife.

  ∞∞∞

  Castlereagh was correct in his assumptions. England recalled him, and now he must defend his actions before the House of Commons. For the viscount it was just one more irritation heaped atop a growing stack of failed attempts in the negotiations that seemed to do nothing more than amble aimlessly about in an unending circle of petty squabbling.

  Despite this, Castlereagh held to his optimism that the Allies would come together, and he hoped his dear friend, the Duke of Wellington, would succeed where he had obviously failed. Castlereagh was if anything pragmatic, and he knew his inherent coldness had not endeared him to the more earthy Europeans, with whom he found himself at a distinct disadvantage. However, the hero of the Peninsular Wars could do no wrong as far as most of the world was concerned, and Castlereagh fervently prayed that Wellington’s considerable charm would ultimately win England’s concessions.

  Castlereagh was also true to his word about Robert, for not a week later he finally arrived in Vienna. Upon his arrival Castlereagh immediately closeted himself with Robert for several hours. When he emerged he did not hide the fact that he was in a sullen rage, of which Christina bore the brunt. They shared a quietly hostile supper and then, without a word to his wife, he retired to his room. The few days he remained in Vienna were conducted in the same manner, except that he did not even dine with her. Soon he was gone again, and it was from Castlereagh that she learned he would remain in Paris with Wellington. He was now assigned to the duke as attaché—a promotion for him. It was quite obvious to Christina, though, that Robert had not considered it so.

  Her husband had left only one directive for her: Eddie was to remain in England.

  At her husband’s abrupt departure, Christina could only feel a building rage at the callous way he had treated her, as if she was of no more consequence than one of his mistresses. She was tempted to write to Edward and invite them to Vienna and damn Robert to hell if he gave her grief over it.

  But she didn’t. For despite all her growing animosity against Robert, she could not rid herself of an underlying sense of guilt. Robert was a man of pride, just like most men, and his self-respect had certainly taking a beating during this assignment. Perhaps if she had been a better wife, Robert wouldn’t be treating her so harshly.

  So, she was determined to try harder to be the wife he expected, even if it killed her. And if that meant avoiding Varek to within an inch of her life, then she would do it.

  Yet no matter what happened at the negotiation tables, or how her life was being torn asunder, the Congress never lacked for entertainment as it inexhaustibly danced on; its intrigues, its foibles, its excesses were celebrated with a flamboyance that impressed even the carefree Viennese. And in the midst of all this carnal exuberance, Christina was sunk in miserable loneliness. She missed her baby. She missed her brother-in-law, the duke. She missed the haven that Kerkmoor had become for her. But, most of all, deep in the very heart of her soul, she missed her life of six years past when she had walked these very streets at Varek’s side.

  However, the news Laure shared with her one sunny morning gave her a new outlook on life that was just as dazzling as the sun reflecting off the newly fallen snow.

  “I am going to have a baby.” Laure’s calmly spoken announcement was belied by the look of giddiness in her eyes.

  With a squeal of delight, Christina swept the slighter woman up into her arms. “Oh, Laure, how wonderful! When?”

  “Late summer. Clemens is beside himself with joy. I think he is finally over her, Christina.” It was the first true smile Christina had seen upon her friend’s lips since she had come to Vienna.

  And, in truth, it had appeared that the prince’s attentions had returned to his wife. He was only seen to notice his ex-mistress, the Duchess of Sagan, when the dictates of polite society requested it of him. Christina prayed with all her heart it was true. Looking at Laure’s radiant face at that moment, Christina could almost believe that, indeed, love could conquer all.

  If only…

  Christina pushed that useless thought aside, refusing to allow thoughts of Varek to intrude on this happy occasion.

  With buoyed spirits, the two ladies sat down for an animated chat, speaking of the upcoming event: a day of festive sleighing through the countryside to the Schönbrunn, the majestic royal palace on the outskirts of Vienna.

  Due to the warmer weather, which had turned the roads into a quagmire of mud and slush, the festivities had already been postponed twice. But with the new snow and the crisp freezing of the past few days, it seemed the event was on again, scheduled for the next day. Christina had to admit she was looking forward to it.

  “Have you heard from Robert?”
Laure asked with an abrupt change of topic.

  Christina hesitated, then shook her head, not knowing quite what to say.

  Laure raised her brows in question as she watched her friend closely. “Relieved or disappointed?”

  Christina fiddled with her cup and saucer, afraid to meet Laure’s eyes. “Robert is not pleased with the situation. He barely spoke a word to me the few days he was here.” Sighing, she shrugged, then leaning forward she put her tea down. “I can’t say I blame him. He is not a stupid man. I am sure he knows why he is being shuffled back and forth.”

  “You must admit it is easier on everyone not to have him here.”

  Raising her eyes, Christina stared at Laure with worry. “Is it? In all fairness, Robert should be at my side. He is my husband, Laure. If anyone should leave it should be Varek. Or me.”

  Laure couldn’t help but be aware of Christina’s dispirited attitude in everything she approached this last week. She couldn’t seem to relax, and her pallor was not the typical paleness of the aristocratic lady’s complexion. Setting her teacup down, she asked as gently as she could, “Have you been with Varek?”

  The look of outrage Christina sent her spoke more eloquently than any verbal denial could. Tactfully, she suggested, “Maybe that is the problem. Perhaps if you and Varek… well, came together again it might ease some of the pain.”

  Christina stared at her in abject horror. “Laure, what can you mean? If that were to happen I would be lost. That can’t happen,” she was almost shouting when she cried out wildly, “Ever!”

  Regretting ever bringing up the subject, Laure leaned forward and poured fresh tea. “My dear, I did not mean to upset you. It is just that lately—”

  Christina gave a bitter laugh as she interrupted, “Lately? Ever since Varek walked back into my life I have been walking a fence. On one side is a placid, comfortable life with my adored child and a man who had treated me gently and respectfully. On the other is the love of my life, whom I yearn for with every breath in my body! On one side is the love of my son. On the other is the loss of my son. How should I be feeling, Laure? You tell me, for I certainly wish someone would!”