Love Me Again Page 7

  “If you will excuse me, my lord.” He was distracted as he rose clumsily to his feet. “I beg that you except my apologies if Christina and I do not join you for dinner tonight.”

  “Of course,” Castlereagh murmured as he watched his attaché's agitated air. “By the way, how is the duke faring?”

  Robert shrugged. “As well as can be expected. Edward still does not have the use of his legs and the doctors doubt he ever will. But he seems to have adjusted well enough. Christina has been a great source of comfort to him. They are very close.” He felt a twinge of the usual jealousy when he thought of his brother and Christina together. At times he wasn't sure whom she cared for more, the duke or himself. It seemed all his life he had come second to the needs of his brother.

  Castlereagh wondered at the lack of emotion in Robert's face when speaking of his brother. “When you communicate with him, please send him my regards,” he asked gently.

  “Of course, my lord.”

  With a stilted bow, Robert left the foreign secretary's presence and the British apartments and strolled aimlessly about the ringstrasse. In a daze, he melded with the wandering populace of Vienna, seeing nothing but Christina's stark face every time he mentioned the archduke. For over four years she had been exclusively his, attentive to his every need, serious and bantering as the mood took her. Never had he a suspicion that lurking in her past was a passionate regard for another man. He almost felt betrayed that she couldn't be honest with him about her past marriage. Was it still that painful to face? How was he to approach this problem? Should he confront this von Vischering head on? Call him out and kill him? Should he take Christina and run? But then he would never find out the answer to the question that now plagued him like a persistent migraine.

  Did she still love the archduke? The uncertainty pounded like a predestined warning in his mind.

  Six

  Varek watched as the sheer silk slid sensuously along her long legs. He leaned nonchalantly against the headboard, his body stretched out comfortably on the smooth counterpane as he watched the slow ritual of his mistress dressing for an evening. He smiled wryly. Sophy never had much subtlety when it came to seduction. Either that or he was becoming bored with the same repertoire she used on him every time he visited her room. It was a good thing she was too vain to realize that her erotic show left him completely relaxed and insultingly flaccid, for she would probably throw something at him.

  With heavy-lidded eyes, he watched her wanton endeavors, all the while wishing she were Christina. That her long silver blond hair was Christina's midnight dark tresses. That her tight, compact body was Christina's lusher one. In fact, he found his beautiful mistress decidedly lacking in every aspect because she was not, and never would be, his beloved Christina.

  He remembered well how she could simply walk into a room and reduce him to the likes of a panting animal whose quivering nostrils flared for the want of its mate's scent. At times it had been frightening, her hold over him; yet never had he felt as alive as he had with Christina. Since she had left him it seemed no matter how many women he found release with, no matter their looks or their personality, he was always left with the same burning need of unfulfilled desire. If it hadn't been for his daughter, Tina Marie, he didn't know how he would have survived with a sane mind.

  Feeling decidedly angry at the state of his life at this moment, he let his gaze roam over the more than willing body of the beautiful woman before him. Damn, but he wanted to forget Christina, if only for a few minutes, and spend his resentment in a woman who obviously wanted him. With a sense of purpose, Varek stared at the shadowy recess between Sophy's spread thighs. After a moment his eyes slid shut in defeat. Bloody hell! Even her scent was all wrong.

  With a sigh of boredom, he rose from the bed and strode to the door.

  Sophy, still poised with alluring seduction over one outstretched leg, gaped in bewilderment at his retreating back. “Where are you going?” she demanded testily.

  “I will see you later to escort you to the ball,” he threw casually over his shoulder before slamming the door after him.

  With a Gaelic curse, she reached out and, grabbing up an expensive Serves vase, flung it against the door. The laugh she heard coming through the now scarred portal only set her off into yet another confused tantrum. Again, she had failed to engage his interest.

  What is wrong with me? Sophy fumed as she flung herself down on her regrettably unmussed bed. Was it her or the air of Vienna? It had to be Vienna, for ever since they had come to this accursed city he had avoided her like she was a diseased dockside whore.

  Stiffening, she sat up and glared at the door. Very well. If his royal highness no longer wanted her, there were plenty of men in Vienna who did! Why, just yesterday, Prince Trauttmansdorff had cornered her in a stall in the royal stables. And most persistent he had been, too! But, unfortunately, he couldn't hold a candle to Varek's beauty, or, more importantly, his wealth.

  With a flounce of indignation, Sophy continued adorning her body for the ball that night as any self-respecting huntress would. She was very careful as she spread a creamy, sandalwood scented lotion over her skin. It was a favorite of Varek's, and was sure to have him sniffing after her before the evening was over.

  Retribution fired her blood as she rubbed the white cream in until it disappeared, leaving a flushed tinge to her perfect flesh. Varek was very possessive of all he owned; therefore, when he saw her flaunting her considerable charms before the interest of anything male, he would reaffirm his interest in her in the most satisfactory of ways, of this, she had no doubt. Then, when she had him firmly between her thighs again, she would latch onto him and never make the mistake of letting him get away again. She still had a few tricks she could torture him with, and when she did he would be following her around in a constant state of arousal. She laughed, picturing herself a slave to ministering that big, beautiful cock night and day.

  Licking her lips, she rang for her maid.

  * * * *

  Christina knew the moment Varek entered the room.

  A shiver ran over her body, her face flushed hot and she needed air, desperately. With frantic haste, she looked for Robert and caught sight of him, standing across the dance floor from her. He stood motionless, just staring at her. She waited for a minute or two for him to come to her. But, he didn't. So be it.

  Anger directed her steps away from him and out one of the French doors. One thing she couldn't abide anymore, and that was being manipulated. It hurt her deeply to think that her husband didn't trust her. She had been nothing but faithful to him ever since they had met. But, not my heart, she had to admit sadly to herself.

  So, feeling like the coward she was, she ran, again. Just as she had been doing since meeting Varek on that fateful evening. She couldn't be in the same room with him without breaking out into a sweat. Anger, resentment, jealousy, regret and love all swirled about her in a kaleidoscope of confusion. She had to get away from Vienna and Varek! Maybe she could convince Robert to let her go home to England. She had to or else she would go mad, or worse, fall into Varek's arms.

  “How long is this going to continue, Christina?” Robert's voice jarred her out of her panicked musings.

  Without turning around, she pleaded, “Please, Robert, let me go home. You don't need me here. Not really. I'm sure Lord Castlereagh will understand if you tell him I am not feeling well.”

  “Why should I lie?”

  She swung around on him in anger. “Because I am your wife! I thought you cared for my welfare, Robert.”

  He stepped closer to her and grabbed her shoulders. “I do! All I can think about is you and the change that has come over you since this archduke walked back into your life. I'm not ashamed to tell you, that I'm deuced scared. You won't confide in me! All you do is hedge around my questions and leave me imagining all sorts of terrible things. All I can assume is that you love him and are tempted when you are around him. Isn't that why you are out here right now? Hidi
ng from him and the feelings you have for him?” He shook her lightly. “Or maybe you are waiting for him even as we speak. Talk to me, dammit!”

  The one thing she didn't want to happen, had. Robert was being hurt by a force stronger than any of them. And she felt powerless to stop it. God, how craven she was!

  Twisting out of his hands, she turned away, not bearing to see his tortured fear. She fidgeted with her shawl as she looked out over the formal gardens of the Hofburg. With a deep sigh, she began. “I met Varek when I was eight years old. My family was an old and illustrious one, but impoverished. Our families had been close and it was arranged that Varek and I would marry. Even when my father's principality had fallen and we were left with nothing but empty titles, Varek honored his parents’ wishes. So at that young age I was sent to live in Austenburg, for there was no place else for me to go. The penniless princess.” She smiled, her thoughts years away.

  “Varek was so kind to me. He was like a god, tall, golden, and handsome as a Michelangelo work of art. I was a plump, unhappy, terribly shy child, and he made me feel so important. I grew up adoring him. When I turned fourteen his attentions to me changed, and his wonderful friendship turned into something deeper, fuller. We were supposed to marry when I turned eighteen, but it didn't work out that way.” She blushed, the moonlight faintly exposing her embarrassment to her husband's unblinking perusal. Lifting her chin, she turned to face him, defying him to judge her. “We were married when I was barely sixteen. I was with child. But...” she swallowed painfully, “it ended in a miscarriage, the first of six in all.”

  Robert looked down, wishing he hadn't forced this confession. Did he really want to know the truth? “I'm so sorry, my love,” he murmured, wishing he could take her into his arms. But she looked so brittle at the moment that he was afraid to touch her.

  She shrugged and gave a choked little laugh. “I guess my marriage was just not meant to be. Varek was forced to set me aside. He did, and I moved on with my life. End of story.”

  “Is it?”

  She raised her evasive gaze and stared directly at him. Her eyes were painfully dry and, she hoped, expressed none of her feelings. “Yes, it is.”

  “I don't think so.”

  They both jumped and spun around at the interruption of the deep voice behind them.

  Varek, a chilling smile molding tensed lips, strolled casually up to them, his gaze riveted on Christina. “It will never be over, lark.” Pausing before Robert, he looked impassively down on the smaller man. “Did she tell you how we had no choice in the matter of our divorce? Did she tell you that I was forced into a decision we both hated in order to protect her life from threats of her assassination? Did she tell you of all the years of our marriage, our blissful marriage, Basingstoke?” His impassive gaze turned cold and menacing when he drawled, “Has she told you lately that she loves you? And if so, does she look into yours eyes while mouthing the platitude? Christina never could look someone in the eye when she was lying.”

  Cocking his head, Varek turned the full wrath of his glare on her. “Could you, my love?”

  Christina's hand shot out to hold Robert back. She felt shudders wracking his taut arm. With an almost physical grip, she clamped down on her racing heart and faced the predatory and haunting regard of her lost love. Christina flinched when she looked deeply into Varek's eyes and was hit hard by the need shouting at her beneath the forced calm. “Varek...” Pausing, she took a deep breath and forged ahead, her gaze never breaking with his. “It is over. Whether you wish to believe it or not, I am happy with Robert and my life in England. Please, don't disrupt my life again. If you do still care for me, you have to let us be.”

  Every muscle in Varek's face tightened and his eyes blazed with arctic splinters. His body was so rigid, she thought he would shatter if jarred. Her fingers tightened about Robert's arm, preventing herself from throwing her arms about him.

  Varek's voice was brittle boredom when he drawled, “I believe we have already discussed this, my love.”

  There was a subtle rustle of fabric behind them. “Varek, my dearest, you promised me this waltz,” a sultry voice infiltrated the charged air between the three.

  Varek smiled enigmatically as he held out his hand to the gorgeous creature poised in the halo of light from the ballroom behind her. The radiance of thousands of candles filtered through the thin tissue of her flimsy gown, outlining a tight, svelte body. Christina flushed with mind-numbing jealousy as she watched Varek take possession of the woman. They looked magnificent together, both blond, blue-eyed and irresistibly beautiful. It took every bit of willpower she had ever possessed to keep the sting of tears from her eyes. Pride squeezed a tight smile on a face which felt as stiff as ice.

  “Lark, this is my mistress. She is keeping my bed warm until you come back.” Both women gasped in unison at the utter callousness of the insult. Christina stared up in shock at Varek and was taken aback at the rage shimmering in his eyes. Good Lord, he was in a killing mood!

  Hastily, she tugged on her silent husband's arm. When he didn't budge, she looked up at him for the first time since Varek had interrupted them. He was staring at Varek with a calm calculation that made her even more uneasy. Licking dry lips, she entreated him, “Shall we go inside, Robert? I am beginning to feel the chill.”

  Shaking his head, almost as if to clear it, he glanced down. “Yes, of course, my dear.”

  Without another word or look at the other couple, they strolled with seeming casualness toward the brilliantly lit doors of the ballroom.

  “How could you embarrass me like that?” Sophy hissed.

  Varek dropped her arm and strode after the fleeing couple, ignoring her completely.

  They had almost made it to a door when Robert dragged her to a slow stop. She glanced curiously at him and noticed his attention directed straight ahead, his profile stiff. The fine hairs at the back of her neck tingled. Silently, she urged him forward, feeling the presence of Varek not far behind.

  “One moment, madam.”

  She winced at the coldness in her husband's voice.

  Detaching himself from Christina's clutching hands, Robert swung back around and retraced his steps. He was met halfway by the slow approach of the archduke. Both men warily eyed each other, their postures tensed and ready for anything. They reminded Christina of two rams getting ready to butt each other's fool heads together. She almost wished they would and get it over with.

  When would this wretched evening end? She despaired as she hurried over, meaning to step between them. However, both men held out a hand, holding her back. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, she noticed Robert's bare hand rising, his glove held firmly in it. Time seemed suspended as her gaze riveted on that hand.

  No! her mind screamed as the glove struck Varek's chiseled cheek.

  She watched in horror as a smug smile spread slowly over Varek's mouth, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “I was wondering when you were finally going to be man enough to call me out?”

  “My seconds will call on yours this evening,” Robert announced with stiff formality while his face was flushed bright red with his rage.

  “No,” Christina whispered, incredulous that this was all unfolding before her very eyes.

  Varek bowed slightly. “I accept your challenge with the greatest pleasure. As the choice is mine, I choose blades.” Then his gaze shifted to her and he winked.

  Winked, for God's sake! At that moment she wished she had her own blade; she'd thrust it through his conniving heart!

  Before she gathered her wits to say anything, Varek strode pass them and entered the ballroom. Christina's lips tightened as she watched the forgotten mistress hurry after him like a pet bitch.

  She whirled on Robert. “You fool! Are you not aware of his reputation with a blade?”

  He glared at her. “How could I? I wasn't even aware of his existence till a few weeks ago. Why don't you tell me?”

  Biting down on her scathing retort,
she paused and regarded his glaring displeasure, a small frown furrowing her brow. After a tensed moment, she sadly shook her head. “You don't trust me, do you? You believe the only way I'll stay faithful to you is to rid yourself of the archduke. This is utter stupidity. Call it off. If not for me, then for the sake of my reputation. As an ambitious attaché in the British suite, you should understand that reason, if nothing else,” she bitterly finished.

  “Afraid I'll kill your one true love?” She could hear the hurt quivering beneath the sarcastic edge of his jibe.

  “Call it off,” she pleaded again.

  “It is done.”

  She turned away from him, hiding her tears.

  He cursed as he stepped in front of her again. “That's it, isn't it?” he accused her heatedly, “You are afraid I'll kill him!”

  She raised burning eyes and stared at him, as if seeing him for the first time. Her voice was low as she responded to his absurdity. “I never realized what a bastard you could be, Robert, and I don't like it. Unfortunately, I have no say in what the archduke does or says. However, you are my husband and I have been nothing but loyal to you and our marriage. What you have just done is declare to the world that you are a cuckolded husband. If anyone has given me a reason to do what you are accusing me of, it is you!” She raised trembling hands to her eyes and pressed back the rising tears. “At this moment I don't care what you do. You certainly won't listen to me. So, very well. Have your pathetic duel, get yourself killed. It's just what Varek wants. Go on!” She dropped her hands and glared at him. “Get yourself killed and then just hand me over to him.” She forcefully swallowed the fury building inside her. Men could be such idiots!

  Not able to deal with him anymore, she headed for the ballroom. She had to get of out of there or she was afraid she might commit her own act of violence. Her lips tightened with ire when she heard his footsteps dogging her. “I am just going to incapacitate him so he will leave you alone.”