Love Me Again

by Wendy Burge

  Pandemonium struck as the relative calm erupted into a fury of activity. The crowd quickly turned into a mob of panic-stricken confusion as the soldiers either rushed toward the archduke or took off toward the trail of smoke drifting lazily up over the west side of the square. The sound of gunfire could be heard over the screams of the people as they surged toward safety.

  Sergei vaguely heard the commotion around him as he fell to his knees beside Varek and gently rolled his limp body over and into his arms. Varek’s face had bled white with shock and the motionless look in his eyes had Sergei calling out frantically, “Vare, do you hear me?”

  Varek’s eyes fluttered, slowly forcing his gaze to focus as he stared up at Sergei. Weakly, he smiled. “We forgot about Bröchre.” His voice was barely a rasp of sound. “The man certainly knows his business.”

  Sergei would have kicked Varek for his hellish sense of humor if he hadn’t been lying in his arms bleeding to death.

  When Varek spoke again, Sergei had to lean close to hear him. “It seems my time of waiting in this life is over. Tell her I will find her.”

  Blood bubbled past blue-tinged lips and his breathing assumed a deadly gurgling sound in his chest that warned of a punctured lung.

  “Vare?” Sergei whispered helplessly, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears that he couldn’t hear anything. “Can you hear me?”

  Again, Varek seemed to focus on his friend. He smiled as he raised a hand as if to touch Sergei’s face, and murmured in wonder, “Lark?”

  Sergei watched as Varek’s eyes glazed over before falling shut, his hand dropping limply onto the ground and his breath sighing out. Sergei was left frantically searching Varek’s neck for some sign of life. “No!” The word was wrenched from Sergei’s closed throat. “Damn you, you can’t do this, Vare! I promised her!”

  “Step aside,” a harsh voice commanded from above him. Looking up, dazed, Sergei found the emperor standing close beside him, his worried frown bent down on his cousin.

  “He’s dead,” was the only thing Sergei could manage to say, as he clung to his friend’s limp body.

  Nodding, Francis bent down and said gently, knowing well how close these two men had been through half their lives, “You must let him go, Massallon.”

  Before Sergei could even try to assimilate what was going on, Varek’s body was lifted away from him and borne swiftly away through the crowds of weeping, screaming people converging from every angle. When Sergei looked around, the emperor was gone, too, and he was left alone, crouched over the ground that had just quenched its thirst on Varek’s blood. The first sob, when it exploded from his cold lips, felt as if the hand of God had reached down and wrenched it from deep in his soul.

  And as he sat there doubled over with grief, his tears mingling with Varek’s blood, he despaired of how he was ever going to be able to tell her.

  ∞∞∞

  Sergei couldn’t stay for the funeral, the thought of seeing Varek laid to rest too devastating, so he left the next day, and in his possession was the last will and testament of Archduke, Varek von Vischering. His mission now was to return to Vienna and escort Tina Marie to her new guardian, the Duke of Kerkston. Never in his life had he felt so weary and disheartened, and he deliberately prolonged the journey, unable to bear what faced him at its end. He was instructed by the emperor not to tell Tina of the death of her father, that it should be left until later, when she was settled in England. Sergei felt only relief to have that responsibility taken off his shoulders.

  What awaited him in England was punishment enough for his failure.

  ∞∞∞

  Christina knocked softly, and upon hearing Edward’s voice, she opened the study door and entered, being sure she closed it firmly behind her.

  Looking up, Edward smiled, and when he began to stand, she hurriedly admonished him to sit. With a groan, he settled back down into the large armchair, and she joined him in the companion chair before the fireplace. The room was freezing except for the snug little area before the blazing fire. After tucking the woolen throw back around his legs, she settled carefully into the generous seat, her mourning skirts settling about the pronounced rounding of her stomach. Tenderly, she smoothed her hands over Varek’s child and again felt a thrill of sublime anticipation. When she had realized she was going to have Varek’s child it had given her a new sense of direction after Robert’s painful death. But now it was time to be honest with Edward—she couldn’t go on deceiving him.

  “There is something you must know, Edward,” she began hesitantly as she fiddled with the fringe of her shawl.

  With a gentle smile, he cocked his head to the side and waited. Lifting her gaze she announced quickly, “This child is not Robert’s.”

  Edward merely nodded, saying in his usual smooth voice, “I suspected as much.”

  Christina bit her lip, watching him warily, “I will leave if you wish.”

  Frowning, he leaned forward as he watched her closely, “Is that what you want?”

  “Heavens, no!” she choked out. “But as I will be giving birth to a bas—”

  He cut her off curtly. “I will never again hear such drivel out of your mouth, Christina. I am pleased that you will be having Varek’s child.”

  Astounded, she blinked at him. “You are?”

  Now he began to fidget, his fingers clenched about the glass of brandy he was holding. “I believe it is my turn for honesty. I have sent one courier to Austenburg and another to Vienna, just in case, informing the archduke of his impending good fortune.”

  Christina could only stare at him in dazed wonder. “How could you know for sure it was Varek’s?”

  “During one of our last conversations, Robert had bitterly recounted how your relationship had deteriorated in Vienna. He mostly blamed himself, but it was also quite apparent that there had been no congress between the two of you for months prior to Waterloo. I knew it could only have been your Varek’s.”

  Raising her hands, Christina buried her face in them. “Oh, Edward,” she moaned, her words muffled, “I am so ashamed.”

  “Why?” he asked, perplexed.

  “That I didn’t tell you right away. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me.”

  Smiling at her foolishness, he shook his head in mock despair, “Christina, you can be such a child at times.”

  Her lips quirking, she murmured wryly, “Thank you.” Then she frowned before asking, “How long ago did you send the messages?”

  “A few weeks after Robert passed away.” The funeral had been a quiet affair, with only the immediate family and the servants present. Edward felt guilty at his lack of feelings on the death of his brother. Even though he had tried all his life to establish a closer bond between them, theirs had not been an easy relationship. Was it wrong of him to be secretly glad for Christina? His only regret was in knowing that she would soon be leaving Kerkmoor and returning to her husband’s side. The thought of this huge house without her and Eddie was a desolate one, and it kept him restless at nights and depressed during the days.

  Christina was biting her lip as she thought of two months passing with no word from Varek. Alarm chased through her. Certainly if Varek had learned of her pregnancy he would, at the very least, have responded by courier.

  Seeing her fear, Edward quickly reassured her, “My dear, don’t worry yet. Europe is still in upheaval and things will come about, but you have to expect the progress to be slow. Have patience. He will come.”

  Comforted only a little, she gave him a tremulous smile and nodded. Edward always knew best, so she would take his advice and not worry.

  At least not yet.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  England

  January 1816

  It was a lazy autumn afternoon, with the first snowfall barely covering the brittle carpet of dead leaves, when Sergei finally arrived at Kerkmoor. As the coach turned down the broad tree-lined road that approached the elegant Palladian manor, Sergei felt as if he was comi
ng home after years gone—he was that weary of heart. Behind the massive Corinthian portico was the woman he loved like a sister, and on his shoulders rested the horrendous task of telling her that the one man she loves above her own life was dead. Rubbing his eyes, he did not know how he was going to tell her.

  When the coach rolled to a stop before the broad steps that marched up either side to a high podium, Sergei saw the front entrance open immediately. As expected, the ever faithful Sefton appeared between the marble pillars, and when Sergei waved him down the man hurried down the left staircase, a broad smile creasing his usually somber features.

  “Mr. Massallon, how good it is to see you again! My lady will be so pleased.” Sefton’s grin slowly faded as he approached Sergei and saw the gloomy defeat on the traveler’s weary face. “Is something wrong, sir?”

  He watched as Sergei climbed from the coach with a beautiful golden-haired angel draped in silent exhaustion over his shoulder. When he came to Sefton’s side, Sergei inquired in a low murmur, “His grace is in residence, I presume?”

  “Yes, sir. The house is in mourning for the viscount.”

  Sergei froze at this unexpected news. “My God!” he whispered as he held Tina tighter. Now the thought of having to give Christina his sad tidings was even more appalling. Closing his eyes, he almost cried out at the cruel irony of it all. If only… There was that damned if only again.

  Sefton had turned to motion to the footmen to gather the luggage when Sergei informed him that it was imperative that he speak with the duke alone before the viscountess was made aware of his presence.

  Concerned, Sefton nodded and immediately ran back up the stairs to inform his grace of Sergei’s arrival.

  Slowly, dreading each step he took, Sergei climbed the stairs and reluctantly entered the huge hall. The light from the skylights above cast an incandescent glow about the marble floor and walls, and blindly his steps took him into the front salon. He wasn’t worried about running into Christina as the family usually spent their time in the east wing, which was set back from the formal front entrance.

  It was not too long before he heard a strange tapping sound coming toward him, and turning, he watched in amazement as the duke carefully limped into the salon, supported between two canes. “Damn my eyes, if you don’t gladden my heart, your grace.” Sergei laughed out loud as he strode forward to shake Edward’s hand. The duke was grinning back, his face flushed, and excitement flashing in his eyes.

  “Well, you are also a sight for sore eyes. Christina will be ecstatic that you are finally here.” Eagerly, he looked about the room; then with a confused frown he turned back to Sergei.

  Before he could ask, Sergei suggested that they sit down, for there was much to explain. After a moment’s pause, the duke made his ponderous way across the room to a settee, where he lowered himself with a sigh. As Sergei also seated himself, settling the little girl in his arms onto his lap, Edward was studying the solemn child who was staring at him with weary interest.

  “Your grace, I would like to introduce you to your ward, Tina Marie von Vischering.”

  Edward looked down and wet his lips. When his gaze rose it was damp with shared pain; he knew this unexpected guardianship could only mean one thing. “How much more is she expected to take?” he asked hoarsely.

  Firming his jaw, Sergei wordlessly shook his head.

  Clearing his throat, Edward set his canes aside, and smiling with gentle reassurance, he held out his arms to little Tina, who was studying him with increasing interest. “Will you come to me?” he entreated in the same soothing voice that had won Eddie over as a baby. Tina blinked at him, and when Sergei hesitantly set her on her feet, she continued to lean against his knee, the comfort of her thumb tucked snugly into her rosebud mouth. Edward knew enough now about children that this initial meeting was crucial to their future relationship. Patiently, he waited as the little girl continued to study him with a wary frown. She glanced up at Sergei, who smiled his own encouragement at her. After another slight hesitation she pushed away from Sergei and walked straight into his grace’s arms.

  As Edward lifted her onto his lap he wondered at the beauty of this child, and thought that if she was anything like her father, he could understand Christina’s obsession. When Tina leaned with trusting acceptance against his chest and trained those solemn blue eyes upon him with such serious attention, he began to talk of Eddie and his toys and his pony and any other nonsensical things he could think of. When he cast a quick look sideways at Sergei, he was not surprised to see him gone.

  Soon he didn’t know whom he was trying to distract more with his rambling monologue—himself or the little orphan in his arms. All too soon he heard a scream rend the tomblike silence of Kerkmoor Manor. Tina burrowed further into his arms, and he took comfort from her tender warmth.

  Silently, he promised her father that he would protect this precious child with his very life, and with a sorrow he hadn’t felt on the death of his own brother, he deeply mourned a man he had never met.

  ∞∞∞

  Days later Sergei was in the middle of a nightmare he had prayed he would never have to relive again. Angrily, he paced outside of Christina’s bedchamber, glaring at the barrier of the door that denied him entrance. As he heard her screams rise in torment, he dragged shaking hands through his hair and cursing viciously he struck the nearest wall with his fist. He was glad that Edward was devoting himself to the children in the nursery, keeping them oblivious to the drama unwinding in another wing of their home.

  The shock of Varek’s death had sent Christina into early labor, and Sergei despaired that if she lost this child she would never recover. The screams were fading to low moans and, nursing his swollen hand, he resumed his frantic pacing. When her screams increased again, Sergei could take no more and, kicking open the door, he stormed into the fetid, hot room and glared at the doctor. “Can’t you do something?” he shouted angrily at the group huddled about the bed.

  Equally angry and feeling just as helpless, the doctor jerked around and shouted back, “I can’t do anything; the child is breach and is coming too quickly for me to turn!”

  Too quickly? Hell and damnation, she had been in labor for twenty hours! How could it be too soon? Panicked, Sergei glanced down at Christina, who was mostly senseless to what was going on around her. After all she had endured he could not blame her for looking as if she was giving up. However, looking it and doing it were two different things!

  He felt a hand gripping his arm. Startled, he turned to glare down at Helen. Her eyes were stark with helpless fear. “She needs you, Sir. She needs you to pull her through. She doesn’t seem to hear me a’tall.”

  Eyes narrowed, Sergei hurried over to the bed and sat down beside her with his back against the headboard. “Oh, no you don’t, Christina! I will not allow this!” he raged at her as he pulled her forward and then swiftly positioned his body behind her so that she lay in the vee of his body, her back propped against his chest.

  Harshly, he whispered in her ear. “Damn you, Christina, enough is enough! No more death. No more sorrow. You will bring Varek’s child into this world and you will raise him and you will be happy!” Stroking her belly with broad firm strokes, he could feel the child twisting. “Christina, wake up and finish this! Varek would expect no less from you! For him, damn you, for him!”

  Weakly, Christina lifted her head and snapped back, her voice cracking, “Stop yelling in my ear.”

  He grinned at the doctor, who was watching her with renewed hope. “Then you’d better damn well finish this.”

  “All right, damn you. I am trying, but it won’t come.” Her voice was a touch stronger in her asperity, and Sergei was breathing again. She was back and they would do this.

  Looking down the bed at the doctor, Sergei instructed, “You will have to turn him.”

  Christina interrupted testily. “Why do you keep saying him?” She shuddered in relief when Helen laid a cold compress on her brow.

&nbs
p; Sergei shrugged. “I want a boy, I suppose. I think Eddie would prefer a brother. After all, he has a sister now.”

  Suddenly, Christina was screaming again as another contraction ripped through her. Instantly, the doctor was reaching into her passage for the child. Grimly, he looked at Sergei and shook his head. “I can’t turn him. We are going to have to try for a breach.”

  Swallowing, Sergei held Christina higher in his arms. His lips next to her ear, he said softly, “This next time we have no choice, love. You have to push as hard as you can.”

  She barely had the strength to nod her head when the contraction was upon her again. As her scream rose, Sergei pushed down on her stomach as the doctor latched firmly onto the feet and pulled. Christina’s screams were chilling in their strength, and Sergei feared he was losing her as Varek’s son slipped from her bloody body. He was terrified to feel Christina go limp in his arms.

  “Christina?” He lifted her face and saw how white she was. Fear gripped him and harshly he shook her. “Christina?”

  The doctor had passed the bloody child to one of the nurses and was immediately beside them. Bending over, he lifted an eyelid; then he put his ear to her chest. When he stepped away he reported grimly, “She is alive. Barely.”

  Sergei’s heart started beating again.

  She was alive—that was all that mattered.

  When he turned to look at the baby, his eyes shot open in stunned disbelief. “Oh, my God!”

  ∞∞∞

  Christina stirred and immediately felt a pain she had only felt once before. Opening her eyes, she saw the cradle beside the bed. Reaching over, she tipped it toward her and saw it empty. Closing her eyes, she took in the dreadful silence around her. When she had given birth to Eddie the first thing she heard were his blessed cries.

  A tear slipped down her cheek. She had failed Varek again.

  This time she didn’t even curse God—long ago she had run out of them. With a sigh, she turned her head and found herself looking into a pair of the weariest eyes she had ever seen.