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Love Me Again

Page 25

by Wendy Burge


  “God, when I heard what had happened…” he began to moan before her lips covered his again, cutting off his anguished gasp.

  “It’s all right. She is safe,” Christina whispered her assurance into his mouth. Her fingers tunneled into his silky hair, the feel of it against her palms a balm to her fractured emotions.

  “And you, little lark, how are you?” Gently, he pushed her away to look into her eyes. Then he saw the swelling bruise, and renewed rage coursed through him. He was sorry Sergei had killed the bastard so quickly, for he desperately needed to take the edge off the savage heat that was seething through his blood. Beating the hell out of the bastard who had dared to harm his loves would have helped tremendously.

  Taking a deep breath, he looked into her eyes and saw remnants of her own rage and fear—but overlying that, there was a frenzy of passion heating her gaze as she devoured the sight of him. He knew why she was acting so strangely, so vulnerable. He had been in enough situations to know how the blood continued to pump with a force that drove out all thoughts except for a reaffirmation of life in the most elemental sense. If he took advantage of her weakness now—and God help him, how he wanted to—he knew she would be remorseful later, and he couldn’t bear the thought of her regretting anything they shared together.

  With a reluctance that tested his deepest mettle, he gently drew her to his side, and slowly they walked together to the bed. Tina was curled up into a tight little ball and was sleeping as if nothing of any significance had happened to her today. Her face looked so sweet in profile, her thumb in her mouth, her curls spread out on her pillow. Bending down, Varek very gently pulled her thumb out of her mouth, then he kissed her silky cheek. When he stood upright, Christina could see a shimmer of tears in his eyes.

  Christina’s voice was tight with too many emotions to define as she castigated herself. “I almost lost her, Varek. When I saw her struggling with those men …”

  Varek pulled her close again, hushing her. “My God, lark, you risked your life to save her! When I heard how you threw yourself onto that man and then, little fool, turned your back on him! God, when I think of what could have happened if Sergei—” His mind shut down on that horrendous thought. It should have been him there protecting his ladies. But, again, it had been Sergei, Christina’s ever faithful watchdog.

  “Why, Varek?” She pushed him away from her and stared up at him. “Who is that woman?”

  Varek wasn’t even going to try and dissemble. Taking her hand, he sat her back down in the chair she had been sitting in when he had come in. Intending to sit on the edge of Tina’s bed, he checked for telltale lumps. As usual, there they were, close to Tina’s side. He laid a gentle hand on the largest lump and felt it shift beneath his hand. When he heard Sandi’s sleepy groan, he crooned at her to go back to sleep and then opted to squat down beside Christina’s chair.

  In a low voice, so as not to disturb Tina, he told her, “At one time she was my mistress. Our parting was not an amicable one.” To say the least, he added wryly to himself.

  Christina frowned. After a moment of thought she asked, “The woman you taunted me with at that ball?”

  Holding her gaze, he nodded slowly. “The very same. From the moment you came back into my life I never touched her again. I suppose I could have ended the affair with a little more diplomacy than I did, but I just wanted her gone.”

  A spark of anger entered her gaze. “So now this is my fault?”

  He couldn’t help the grin that popped out. “Well, I suppose, in some ways it is.” He quickly placed a finger over her lips to still her next out-burst. When her lips pursed into a moue of anger, he drew his finger very gently over the outer edges of the wicked bruise. “In all seriousness now?” His brows rose in challenge at her belligerent expression, then continued. “I believe her to be a puppet in a wider scheme.”

  “Which is?”

  “The insurrection brewing in Austenburg.”

  “But what has that to do with Tina?”

  “Everything, my love. She is my heir and Austenburg’s salvation. You better than anyone should know what Tina is to our people.”

  Not my people, Christina thought angrily. They tossed me out.

  “I believe somehow they know that I am trying to dissolve the duchy. Added to that, over the last years, Roget has gotten greedy for power, and Tina is the key to that power. These two sets of circumstances make for a rather combustible situation, don’t you agree?”

  “Roget? Surely you jest?” The thought was ludicrous. Christina remembered the chancellor as a nondescript, unassuming diplomat who had always seemed to be underfoot, and always giving his opinion whether you wanted it or not. She could still see him lurking in the shadows, scurrying in and out of rooms on silent feet. He had a brilliant mind, one had to give him credit for that; he was a political tactician without peer, but the man hadn’t appeared to have an ambitious bone in his body. His whole life rotated around serving the royal family of Austenburg, just as his father had before him, and his grandfather before that, and he took such pride in that very heritage. The name of Roget was synonymous with unquestionable loyalty to Austenburg’s royal family. The idea of him inciting rebellion was beyond belief. It was impossible.

  And yet, looking into Varek’s eyes, she could see that he believed it was not only very possible, it was reality.

  “Will you stay tonight?” he asked on a whisper.

  Startled out of her dazed thoughts, she blinked at him, then nodded. “I don’t want to let her out of my sight just yet.”

  Varek hadn’t thought he could love her any more than he already did, but seeing this devotion and love turned upon his child shifted his whole concept of love to an even deeper level than he could possibly conceive.

  Then he remembered that he had a problem to deal with.

  Angrily, he turned on his heel and left the room, praying he could deal calmly with the bitch and not strangle her as soon as he saw her.

  When Sophy saw Varek enter the room, she held up her trussed hands and asked peevishly, “Is this really necessary?”

  The smile he turned upon her sent a shiver of fear down her spine, and she leaned back farther into the nest of pillows she was propped up against. She suddenly began to wonder if she would leave Vienna alive.

  “You should be thankful this residence does not have a dungeon.”

  Wisely, she held silent. She watched with wary resentment as he walked about the room. His seeming idleness was a deception that had her sweating under the heavy woolen redingote she still wore.

  “Why did Roget send you?” he inquired with smooth politeness.

  Varek always had been too astute for his own good, Sophy thought with a despondent finality. And yet for years he hadn’t known what was brewing beneath his very nose. If she was going to walk away from this debacle with her life, she knew the time for dissembling was long past.

  All at once she was surprised at how tired she was, and wearily she shrugged. “When I returned to Austenburg I was still angry with you, and Roget seemed to sense it—like a rat sniffing cheese. He approached me and told me how, for the good of Austenburg, we needed to get back the princess. Well, as you can guess, political intrigue and loyalty to the duchy never held much interest for me, so I politely shrugged him off. Then he dangled the promise of a title in front of me, with a handsome stipend thrown in for good measure.” She glanced sideways at him and entreated with a pout, “How was I to say no to that?”

  Varek stopped beside the bed and stared down at her with a coldly lethal smile that could cut flesh. “You will soon wish you had, my dear. I promise you that. It doesn’t pay to get too greedy. Didn’t I warn you of that before?”

  “For God’s sake, Varek, your daughter was never in any danger and you know it. Roget needs her alive and well. I still have enough feelings for you that I would have made sure she was taken care of.”

  Varek was so close to throttling the bitch that the hands he held clenched behind
his back trembled. He remembered the bruise on Christina’s face, and the knife that had been pointed at her back before Sergei had taken the man out.

  Sophy’s next words caught his attention with a clarity that echoed at the back of his mind, “It is you he wants dead.”

  Eyes narrowing, he demanded softly, “Go on.”

  Those chilly blue eyes really were intimidating when turned upon you with an intensity that sucked the very air from your lungs, yet she couldn’t seem to look away. Raising her bound hands, she brushed away a trickle of sweat from her temple. “The beating. That was Roget.”

  He hadn’t been too far off, thinking it was some revolutionaries from Austenburg. He just hadn’t suspected it was Roget. Dependable, dedicated Roget. A man he had disliked most of his life and had always taken for granted because of his family’s loyalty to his own. How utterly imbecilic of him! The embarrassment he felt swamped him with the force of an Atlantic gale. His fingers flexed as he remembered that day long ago when Roget’s throat had been in his hands. How different would his life be today if he had killed him then.

  Sophy watched in silence as he continued to stare at her without even blinking. Didn’t anything make an impact on the man? Was he made of a block of ice? Well, let’s see how he takes this piece of news, she thought vindictively. “He has hired an assassin. Bröchre.”

  That seemed to spark something, for his eyes widened an infinitesimal degree. His lips barely moved as he said dryly, “I’m honored. This must be costing Roget a king’s ransom.”

  A king’s ransom to hire the assassin of kings.

  Even after twenty years of infamy, no one knew what the man looked like. He was as invisible as the plague and twice as deadly, for he left no survivors in his wake. If you were marked, you were as good as buried.

  Now, knowing this man had marked him, Varek felt his own mortality staring him in the face.

  Sophy’s voice droned on at the back of his consciousness. “Roget doesn’t want you to be made a martyr to the people who love you, and he doesn’t want Francis coming down on him with his imperial forces. So Bröchre was instructed to do it during a battle, which of course, with Napoleon free, there are certain to be many.”

  “How positively diabolical,” Varek murmured. A stray bullet that could be linked back to no one. Roget, as usual, had outdone himself, and his insurance was Bröchre.

  He thought of Christina and had the absurd desire to weep. He had just found her again, and now this.

  Spinning on his heel, he headed for the door.

  Sophy shot upright in the bed. “Wait! What about me?”

  He looked back over her shoulder and said tonelessly. “Be glad you are still alive.” With that he slammed the door behind him, the only emotion he had shown since stepping into the room.

  “No one is to enter unless I say so. Not even to feed her, do you understand?” he told the guard curtly.

  The man snapped to attention. “Yes, your highness!”

  Varek continued down the corridor and only paused when he turned a corner and was finally alone. He leaned against a wall and dropped his head back.

  God, Bröchre! He was a dead man; it was only a matter of time. How could he fight an enemy he could not see coming?

  He would move Tina into the imperial nursery tonight—Baron Hager would see that she was protected with his most trusted people.

  Now the only question was, how long till the first battle? Already, he felt the grains of his life slipping away and there was so much to do.

  Chapter Nineteen

  By the end of March, the Congress had made a formal decision to engage war and recapture Napoleon, once and for all. Wellington was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the British and Dutch-Belgian forces in Flanders. With Napoleon on the move, the Allies lost no more time in bickering and, for the first time since the Congress had opened, they came together as a united force. More than a million men had been deployed and were marching for the Swiss border.

  Tomorrow Wellington was leaving for Brussels to garrison the city. As usual he traveled light, with minimum baggage and only two aides at his side— and Robert was one of them.

  Christina was up early the next morning with her husband, helping with last minute arrangements and escorting him to the coach being loaded in preparation for their departure. Even this early in the morning, a large number of the Congress had turned out to bid their hero farewell and Godspeed.

  “I still think it best if you went back to England,” Robert again argued as he watched the loading of the coach.

  Christina adamantly shook her head “I will be fine, Robert. The prince insists that I stay at the Chancellery now that the Castlereaghs are gone. And with Laure in her delicate condition, I want to help her finish with her responsibilities with the Congress; then we will be closing the palace and moving to Brussels.” She wrapped her hands around his face and pulled his attention completely upon her. “I will see you in Brussels soon, Robert.”

  His frown slowly melted away as he stared down on her. Secretly he was pleased, but it was hard to leave her behind with the archduke still sniffing about her skirts. He had been getting progressively more indignant with each trip he was expected to make, leaving his wife behind in that bastard’s clutches. He knew there was a conspiracy to keep him out of Vienna, but he was still unsure as to whose door to lay his grudge. Looking down into Christina’s candid gaze, he knew he could hardly take his anger out on her.

  Gently, he took her hands into his and kissed them. “Promise me you will take care of yourself and arrive safely?”

  Christina smiled up at him and teased, “With Francis’s imperial guard to escort us, you should worry more about your own trip.”

  As if on cue, Wellington came striding out of the Hofburg with Metternich and Castlereagh on his heels, and made his way over to the coach. As he moved, he had the habit of looking about him with a keen, searching eye that made a point of missing nothing. He moved with military precision and grace, and even with his unassuming height, made an impression of power.

  When he paused next to Robert, he gave Christina a courteous bow and a charismatic smile of such warmth that she found herself blinking at him. “I do apologize for taking your husband from you again, my lady, but I find him indispensable.” She saw Robert, standing slightly behind the duke, give a mock shudder.

  She bit her lip to stifle the giggle that threatened, then murmured in return, “So do I, your grace. However, for the sake of peace, I must not be selfish.”

  Taking her hand, Wellington raised it gallantly to his lips. “A gracious and beautiful patriot. What could be more perfect? Adieu, my dear Lady Basingstoke. I shall look forward to the princess’s and your arrival with great impatience.”

  Then he was gone, and Robert stepped close again. “As will I,” he whispered as he took her into his arms.

  Christina’s arms went tightly around his neck and she held him close for a long moment. Tears stung her eyes; for this briefest of moments she was holding her old beloved Robert in her arms again, and she didn’t want to let him go. Reluctantly, they pushed away from each other. With a sad smile, he brushed her lips with a fingertip before he turned away and joined Wellington in the coach. As soon as the door closed upon him, the horses were whipped up and the coach jerked forward. Immediately, a cheer rose from the people who had turned out to send the hero on his way.

  Laure stepped to her side and entwined her arm with Christina’s. “And so it begins,” she said sadly as they stood together and watched the coach disappear.

  Christina nodded, too depressed to speak.

  She prayed she would see Robert again before battle was engaged, but now they never knew what to expect from one day to the next.

  ∞∞∞

  Several nights later, Christina was curled up on a chaise in her sitting room, staring into the fire, her thoughts morose. She could only be thankful for the joy that the little puppy, curled up on her stomach, gave her. At that very momen
t, Katie gave a sleepy stretch; then, shifting about, she trustingly exposed her pink tummy. It proved to be too much of a temptation to resist, and leaning over, Christina gave it a light kiss, then stroked it softly.

  Smiling, she thought back over the day she had just spent with Tina, who, back to her usual rambunctious self, had run her and her guards a merry chase through the menagerie. Of Varek she had seen very little, as he was closeted most of the hours of the day with Francis and Metternich. She had heard a rumor being whispered over tea at the Chancellery that the stunningly handsome archduke would soon be leaving for Austenburg. With a sigh, she dropped her head back and stared up at the ceiling.

  Please God, just let it be a rumor. The thought of Varek walking into a possible rebellion had her tense and restless.

  At a soft knock on the door, Katie jerked up and tumbled off her lap and onto the floor with an inelegant thump. However, that didn’t stop her from running to the door, yipping and whining. When Laure walked in, Katie’s barking turned into a joyful whining that was much too shrill for so late at night. Laure was still dressed in her evening gown, but she didn’t hesitate to kneel down to pet and calm Katie, while telling Christina in a soft undertone, “Varek is still here. He was worried when you didn’t come down to dinner. He wishes to see you.”

  So it was true—he was coming to say goodbye. Swallowing, Christina rubbed her eyes, knowing that if she saw Varek she was going to make a decision that she didn’t know if she could live with later. But how could she not? She would probably never see Varek again, and the very thought was devastating.

  “Shall I send him away?” Laure asked gently as she stood again.

  “No!” Christina came hurriedly to her feet. “I must see him. I am just so frightened, Laure.”

  Coming to her side, Laure brushed a stray tendril away from Christina’s eyes. “I know you are, my dear. Just follow your heart.”

 

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