Vienna Woods (The Imperial Season Book 2)

by Mary Lancaster

  “She does indeed,” Esther agreed. “But you know, it does actually prevent her from doing anything! You know she missed you when we were in Kriegenstein. She would miss you if you returned to England now.”

  “But she would not come with me,” Belling said with a grimace he couldn’t help. “Not while you are in need of her.”

  “Well, between us, Major, I’m not,” Esther said candidly. “The world thinks I need a female companion, but in truth, while I love Juana, it is generally I who look after her. And I am not as restful as you. She would choose you if we forced her hand.”

  The major’s one eye regarded her in fascination. “How would we do that?”

  “Arrange the wedding,” Esther advised. “So that it would be more trouble for her to refuse than actually to marry you.”

  “I’m not sure I want her on such terms.”

  Esther laughed. “Of course you do, because you will make her happy, and she you. She has just got into the way of thinking that she can’t leave me until I’m married. And thinking she can love no one after Captain MacVey. But we both know that isn’t true. Arrange the wedding, Major, and I shall see that she gets there.” She jumped to her feet. “Her happiness depends upon you, you know. Come, let’s go back to the ballroom and find her.”

  Major Belling, half-excited, half-dazed, hauled himself to his feet, and offered her his arm. She took it, and in perfect understanding, they prepared to leave the alcove in search of Juana.

  But they’d barely taken a step before a shadow fell over them and Esther’s heart seemed to turn over. Garin stood in the archway, blocking their path.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Miss Lisle,” Garin said, mildly enough, although his grey eyes seemed to bore deep into hers.

  “Have I stolen your dance, young man?” Major Belling asked jovially. “Well, there, I took advantage of old friendship, but I relinquish her to you now with good grace.”

  “There is no need,” Esther began in panic, tightening her grip on Belling’s arm as he made to withdraw it.

  “Nonsense, my dear,” Belling said, patting her hand before he removed it with what he seemed to imagine was kindly force. “Dance and enjoy yourself—you have done your good deed for the night!”

  Garin stood aside and Belling hobbled relentlessly away. Lifting her chin for courage, Esther forced herself to look Garin in the eyes.

  “Since neither of us truly wishes to dance with the other,” she said coldly, “I suggest we part company now.”

  He stirred, as if to fill the space and prevent her brushing past him. “You are quite mistaken. I always want to dance with you.”

  “Nonsense,” she retorted. “What you wished was revenge upon your brother.”

  “Actually, it was meeting you that removed any such lingering idiocy from my mind. Otto should be punished, but not for any harm his father did to my mother. If I asked you to dance, would you say yes?”

  Everything in her leapt toward that dance, especially since it was a waltz. To feel the strength of his arms, his nearness…

  “No,” she said, almost desperately.

  “Then…you truly wish to marry Lord Harry?”

  She’d almost forgotten that silly plan in her new hurt, and now she couldn’t be bothered with it. “Of course I don’t,” she said impatiently. “I’m not marrying anyone.”

  “Ever?” The hard eyes had softened slightly, as if he were about to smile, and her heart turned over, even as fury surged through her. How dare he laugh at her? As if he knew…but of course he knew that she cared. She’d thrown herself at him quite shamefully.

  “You lied to me!” she burst out. “Again!”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “You said your name was Garin Zelig, not Zelig Garin.” Even as she spoke the words, they sounded silly to her own ears.

  He shrugged. “They’re the same. I’m the same. My mother and I changed our names to avoid gossip when we left Kriegenstein. In Vienna, my surname is Zelig.”

  “Except now it will be von Kriegenstein,” she said bitterly. “And you will have your lands, which were always, clearly, the most important goal in your life.”

  He stared at her, a faint frown of incomprehension on his brow. She didn’t blame him. She wasn’t even very sure of what she was accusing him of. She just knew that the lands he would now inherit, the nobility he now claimed, bothered her, as if they somehow sullied her feelings for him. And she didn’t understand that either.

  So, she just returned his stare, at once haughty, she hoped, and defiant. And yet her heart thundered. She wanted to be dragged into his arms and onto the dance floor and told not to be so silly, that he had always loved her…

  He inhaled sharply. “That is truly what you think of me? Forgive me. I’ve been wrong to bother you.”

  He gave a quick, jerky bow, turned sharply and strode away, leaving her alone in the alcove.

  Now, now it felt as if the world were truly tumbling around her ears. Two middle-aged ladies promenaded past the alcove. One glanced in at her and brought up her fan to speak to her companion, who also glanced in at her.

  Esther managed to bow to them before reaching up and snapping the curtain closed. She sank back onto the chair she’d just vacated, dropping her head into her hands.

  “Now what have I done?” she whispered. “And why?”

  Surely, she’d just accused him of manipulating events, crimes, and her own affections just to gain land…and its attendant wealth and respectability. When in truth, she believed no such thing. She was simply lashing out because he hadn’t immediately told her the whole truth about his origins. And God help her, she had wanted to give up her supposedly respectable life for him, to live with him in relatively nameless poverty, just to prove…how much she cared for him.

  “And I do,” she whispered into her hands. “I do!”

  She straightened abruptly. That was what was important here. She loved him. She hadn’t told him that. How dare she be so frustrated with Juana and Belling for their excuses not to be together, when she was idiotically doing the same thing, just for fear of her own hurt? Well, it would not do.

  She jumped to her feet, reaching for the curtain to race out to the ballroom, find him, and tell him everything. But just as her fingers closed on the fabric, it whipped out of her hand and Garin strode in, dragging the curtain back in place behind him.

  She stumbled back. “Garin, I—”

  “Enough,” he said incoherently, seizing her and hauling her against him. “Just, enough.”

  His face swooped down and his mouth covered her gasping lips in a fierce, desperate kiss that melted her bones. She spread her hand across his cheek in wonder, her fingers slipping around his head to get lost in his hair as she yielded and kissed him back.

  “Do you really not know that I love you?” he whispered against her mouth.

  “Oh, I hoped you did…” She drew back a little to gaze into his turbulent, grey eyes, then raised her face to kiss him again. “But a man of property may look anywhere for a bride.”

  His breath caught and it came to her that he was laughing. “Would you prefer to be married because you were as much as I thought I could get in my lowly circumstances?”

  She let herself smile back. “Put like that, maybe not…”

  “I wanted to be worthy of you. In every way. But I don’t think I could bear it if you didn’t care.”

  “I care,” she whispered, taking back his lips as she tightened her arms around him. “I care so much I thought I would die—Garin!”

  The rest was lost as the force of his kiss bent her backward.

  She was only roused from her blissful daze by the swish of the curtain drawing back. And then, with stunning suddenness, his hold altered, and he was dancing her out of the alcove, past whoever was trying to come in, and into the melee of waltzing couples in the ballroom.

  And that too, was joy. Her feet tripped lightly now to the rhythm of the waltz. The warmth of the greate
st happiness she’d ever known enfolded her. For a long time, they didn’t even speak. Then she said, “So am I engaged to be married once again?”

  “Very.”

  She lifted one provocative eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you speak to my father?”

  “Yes. But it won’t make any difference.”

  She smiled, thrilled by such improper sentiment.

  All too soon, the dance came to an end. Esther glanced toward the seats she’d last seen occupied by her father and Juana. There was no sign now of the general, but Major Belling was in earnest conversation with Juana. Esther smiled with satisfaction.

  “Will you be cold if we go out on the terrace for a few minutes?” Garin asked.

  “No,” she said optimistically. “I can fetch my shawl if I need to.”

  Garin escorted her on to the terrace, which was deserted, and for a few moments, they stood looking out at the gardens under the night sky, brilliantly illuminated by the dazzling ballroom lights. She supposed it was cold, but she didn’t care. Her hand in his arm, his still person so close to her, at once safe and exciting, she let the wonder of the evening flow through her. She wondered if anyone would notice if she laid her head on his shoulder.

  He stirred, slowly turning his head to look at her. “Why me?”

  She smiled. “I don’t know. I could give you reasons that were true. I like your handsome face and your strength. That you’ve always protected me and make me feel safe—something I never even knew I valued in a man. That you’re honest and unpretentious in your secretive way. That you work so hard for what you believe in, even though I might take issue with some of it, at least. That I can talk to you and rely on you. I like all these things. I don’t know what turns it to love.” She tightened her fingers on his arm for a moment. “But there was always something different about you, and about me when I’m with you.”

  A rather baffled pleasure crossed his face, making her smile again. “And that is another reason,” she added. “You always seemed to like me, and yet you never expected to be liked in return. You never expect anything. I think that’s why your newly exalted position offended me so much. I wanted you to know I didn’t care about our difference in station. I wanted you to know I’d give up anything, everything, to be with you in any circumstances.”

  In the lantern light, she thought his color had heightened.

  “For me,” he murmured with a kind of wonder that made her want to hug him.

  “For you,” she agreed. “And now you have to tell me why you kissed me that first time at Prince Metternich’s masquerade.”

  His lips quirked. His hand covered hers on his arm. “Why do you think?”

  “To be insolent? To make me think you liked me more than you did, so that I would be more inclined to trust you and tell you everything?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. Although I may have given myself those excuses.” He looked out toward the gardens once more, but she didn’t think he was seeing them. “I just wanted to. And…I wanted to prove to myself that you were no different than other women and wouldn’t be able to distract me from my work.”

  “Was that successful?” she asked innocently.

  His hand tightened on hers. “No. Not in the least. You are an abominable distraction and I’ve no idea how I will ever work again.”

  “You mean you won’t retire to your lands and rule your peasants?”

  “It isn’t what I know. Would you mind if I remained a government servant? Albeit a better off one! I—”

  He broke off, his whole body stiffening, and she followed his suddenly sharp gaze to three doddery old people making their way through the palace grounds, one several yards behind the others. They looked only too familiar. The elderly gentleman in front waved his stick at the lady behind, who suddenly picked up her skirts and ran after the others as spry as any ten-year-old.

  “They’re not old,” Garin exclaimed. “How did I not see that before?”

  Without further ado, he leapt off the terrace onto the lawn below, and began to run after them.

  “Oh, the devil!” Esther exclaimed, all but snorting with laughter as she ran after him. “Garin. Garin!”

  He glanced back over his shoulder. “Wait in the ballroom!” he ordered.

  “I won’t! Wait for me! Garin, stop, don’t you recognize them?”

  Garin paused, staring as the third old lady caught up with the others. High laughter drifted back on the sharp breeze. Dampness from the grass seeped into Esther’s dancing slippers.

  “It’s the Gaunt children,” Garin said blankly as she caught up. “What—”

  “Lizzie smuggled them in,” Esther explained. “We all helped dress them up so that they could watch the Carrousel. But Lizzie put them in a carriage for home, even before the banquet.”

  “They had bribed the driver, or given him the slip,” Garin said. “Especially since it wasn’t anyone used to them.”

  “We could just take them home for Lizzie. Save worrying her and Vanya. We owe her for interrupting her honeymoon, after all.”

  Slowly, Garin brought his glittering gaze down to her face. “We could. And then, once they’re safely bestowed, you’d be alone with me.”

  She slipped her fingers into his hand. “That’s true. I would.”

  *

  It couldn’t be said that the children came quietly. Although obedient enough once they realized they’d been rumbled, they were full of glee at their triumph and bursting with exuberance during the carriage ride. They were to spend the night at Lizzie and Vanya’s borrowed palace.

  Together, Esther and Garin shooed them upstairs to their bedchambers. They then separated to help them scrub the worst of their make-up off, before letting them tumble into bed in a state of happy exhaustion.

  Emerging from the girls’ chamber, Esther hurried back downstairs to the drawing room, her heart beating with excitement because of her promised few moments alone with Garin.

  He stood by the window with his back to her, gazing out into the dark gardens. He let her fully enter the room before he turned with deliberation, as though anticipating and then savouring the sight of her. She halted, her breath suddenly constricted as he advanced upon her like some large, predatory cat. A tiger, she thought wildly. His eyes seemed to flame as they devoured her.

  She swallowed. “Is Michael in bed?” she managed.

  “He was when I left him.” Reaching behind her, Garin closed the door.

  Her heart lurched, seemed to plunge downwards. She found she was trembling. But he only lifted his hand to her cheek, gazing down at her with something approaching wonder. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes, and a moment later felt the brush of his mouth on hers. Instinctively, she parted her lips and gave herself up to the sweet invasion.

  She clung to him, rejoicing as his arms closed around her, pulling her against him. It was a longer, deeper kiss than any before, and when it finally ended, he only allowed her one breath before seizing her lips once more.

  His hands caressed her face, her throat, making her shiver while his mouth plundered and coaxed. Delicious weakness flooded her tingling body, and when he abandoned her lips to kiss her throat and shoulders, heat surged through her, making her gasp. His caressing hand on her back slipped lower, pressing her hard against him so that she was aware of every hard inch of his body. The heat in her ignited to flame, so arousing that she didn’t realize what he was doing to her gown until it slid down to her elbows, as his hot lips traced the falling neckline across her breasts.

  Never in her life had she guessed at such bliss. She tried to tell him, but the words wouldn’t form into more than a faint moan, which he smothered with his mouth as he lifted her in his arms and strode towards the big sofa in the middle of the room.

  She lay on her back, her loosened gown in disarray. He loomed over her, his eyes clouded with exciting passion, his breath coming in short, erratic bursts. Like hers. Helplessly she cupped his face in her hands while sense and propriety made a f
inal push for attention.

  “What are we doing?” she whispered.

  “Making vows,” he said huskily, dragging one of her hands to his lips and kissing the palm. “Deeper than mere words and more binding.”

  She stared up at him. He sounded so definite, so sure, and yet behind the wild heat of his eyes she recognized a desperate plea for permission that undid her. She caught her vanishing breath and, reaching up, she gave that permission with her kiss and her whispered words against his lips. And then all thought dissolved into sensation.

  As if her surrender empowered him, he took possession of her body with slow hands and lips, guiding her through the dance as old as time, banishing pain with pleasure, until her whole being shook with an ecstasy beyond any she’d dreamed could exist. And as he reached his own, she wept with joy, because with her body, he’d taken her soul.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “General Lisle, if you please,” Zelig said to the manservant, Baird. He’d chosen his time well, too early for most to be at work after last night’s late festivities, but not so early that a conscientious man should be abed.

  Esther had suggested waiting, for his own sake until the world knew the truth of his birth and status—the general not being a man to take perceived insults lying down. But this was not something Zelig was prepared to put off just to appease her father’s anger.

  After a moment, Baird recognized him and grudgingly admitted him. “Wait in here,” he said, passing through the room Lisle used as his study, and toward the bedchamber beyond. “I’ll see if the general is available.”

  A moment later, the general emerged, still struggling into his coat. “Herr Zelig,” he said impatiently. “What’s the problem, now? Rumors were flying around last night about the Crown Prince. Some said he’d been arrested, others that he’d been the victim of attempted assassination!”

  “I’m not here to discuss Prince Otto, but Miss Lisle,” Zelig said calmly.

  The general scowled. “Damn it, man, you haven’t spirited her away again, have you? She’s only just back with me!”