Love Me Again (8 page)

Smiling, and contemplating the siege before him, Varek sauntered off in the opposite direction, in no hurry to get anywhere. It was a beautiful afternoon, so he was content to amble along and think of the little hawk his gentle lark had become.

Hours later, Christina was still castigating herself for her abysmal weakness in the park. To add insult to injury, she had been forced to sit through an interminable dinner under Varek's lazy smile; his heavy-lidded gaze raking every inch of her person that he could visually touch. Then fevered fantasies had taken over, and she imagined his elegant hands stoking every inch of her flesh that he couldn't see. It had been pure torture!

So, in retaliation, she had turned her scattered wits on comparing her noble husband with the rogue lounging across the table from her.
That
fruitless endeavor soon had her on the verge of tearing her hair out by the roots, which put her in such an irritable mood she could scarcely make polite conversation with her dinner partners. For no matter how hard she tried, and she did honestly try, she wasn't able to make Robert come out the victor in any physical comparison to Varek.

She had breathed a sigh of relief when Varek finally left the table with his cousin, the Austrian Emperor Francis. When the door closed on his broad back, she had relaxed for the first time since they had sat down to dinner, two hours earlier. She was finding it so exhausting being in the same city with Varek, let alone the same room.

Christina felt equally blessed when a messenger called Robert from her side and into a meeting with Castlereagh. She was just too restless to be subjected to another of Robert's sulky interrogations.

So here she was, alone in bed, restless and edgy, and desperately blanking out every erotic thought that forced its way into her fevered imaginings.

Fool,
she brutally castigated herself as she yanked up the comforter to her chin and glared up at the ceiling. She thought of Robert, and became agitated. The Robert of Vienna was a stranger; he was not the man she had married, the man who had healed her pain and brought her to Kerkmoor.

So he can't stir my blood like Varek can with a mere smile. So he can't make my heart pound with joy when he simply walks into a room. What has that to say about anything?

He is the father of my child!

Finally hitting upon the ultimate trait that Robert had over Varek, she pounded her pillow, stretched out and stared up into the canopied darkness. Of course, Robert was what she needed. He had given her a son, where Varek had failed miserably. As Varek had said often enough, their destinies had all been preordained; obviously, she was not meant for Varek.

Varek had simply been her fantasy come to life. But only for a short while. Life had given her a beautiful memory to sustain her through the rest of her days, and she should be grateful for that.

That was all Varek was meant to be, a brilliant, magnificent shooting star in her life. Nothing more, and never again.

Turning her face into her pillow, Christina cried herself to sleep.

Lord Castlereagh paused in his dictation and studied Robert for a few moments before he dismissed his secretary, Peterson.

Robert wasn't even aware of the departure of the man, and it was Castlereagh's prompting that brought his distracted attention back to the present. Surprised, he looked around to find them alone, then flushed with embarrassment when he found the foreign secretary's eyes trained upon him.

Sitting up straight, he cleared his throat. “Forgive me, my lord.”

Castlereagh shook his head and leaned back comfortably in his chair. His gentle gaze invited the sharing of confidences, something Robert suddenly had the need to do. He certainly wasn't getting any answers out of Christina. He almost sighed with relief when Castlereagh's quiet voice broke the silence.

“Is there something troubling you, Robert?”

Robert hesitated for the slightest moment, feeling guilty about discussing Christina. She was such a secretive person, guarding her privacy almost jealously. Having second thoughts, Robert reluctantly shook his head.

“Come now, Robert; we've known each other a long time. Your brother was one of my first and has remained the staunchest of my supporters. Please, allow me to be of assistance.”

Shifting restlessly about in his chair, Robert recrossed his legs. “It's Christina,” he finally blurted out.

Castlereagh nodded, smiling wryly. He had assumed this, considering the appearance of von Vischering several nights ago. “It must have been a shock to her to see the archduke again.”

“You know him?” Robert sat bolt upright in his chair, startled.

“Not personally, but I know of him. He comes from a very illustrious old family, the last surviving member of the von Vischerings. He rules a small but extremely wealthy duchy in Germany. He is connected to the Habsburgs, and being a favored cousin of Francis, has considerable sway over the Emperor.” Castlereagh shook his head sadly as he continued, “It was a devilish shame what happened.”

“What?”

Castlereagh's brow cocked in surprise. “Why, Christina's divorce, of course.”

Exasperation flared in Robert's eyes as he slumped back in his chair. How many others knew more of Christina's life than her own husband did? He was almost ashamed to pursue this conversation any further. Damn, why couldn't she be more open with him?

Castlereagh stared at him in confusion and Robert, wishing to avoid eye contact, cast a heedless glance about the beautifully appointed study.

Not knowing what was going on behind Robert's agitated manner, Castlereagh kept his opinions to himself and waited with the patience for which he was renowned.

Finally, Robert swore softly and turned back toward his superior, anger lacing his usually benign voice. “Tell me what you know, my lord, of Christina's past. I need to know.”

Castlereagh hid his shock at this revelation. “Did she not tell you everything before you wed?”

“No. Nothing.”

Cautious to a fault, Castlereagh couldn't believe what he was hearing. “How could you marry her, not knowing anything of her past? I'm not saying she is well known, coming from a rather small duchy, but she is a royal archduchess of limited notoriety.”

Robert blinked at him, stunned. He had married into royalty? There was a distinct buzzing in his head and he could feel the blood surging through his veins, even as his extremities felt cold. “I didn't know.”

Taking a deep breath, Castlereagh leaned forward, his fingers steepled before him on the desk. “What do you know of Christina?”

Robert gave a short, derisive laugh. “Apparently, not enough. I met her while I was touring Italy. I fell in love with her the moment I saw her. In all fairness, she made it very clear that she wanted her past kept behind her and told me quite bluntly that she would never speak of it. All she would tell me was that she was divorced, without family and from a small province in Germany. I loved her so much, so I didn't press her for any more fearing she would run from me as she ran from anyone who tried to get too close.” He shrugged philosophically. “So, I accepted her as she was, a woman of mystery. I didn't care then and I don't particularly care now. It is just that since she saw ... him, she has been distraught, frightened, and she still won't tell me anything. I'm so damned worried, I don't know what to do!”

Castlereagh thought hard on all he had heard about von Vischering and Austenburg. Unfortunately, there wasn't much. He had to admit he was surprised that Robert's brother, the Duke of Kerkston, hadn't checked into her background. But then again, he might have and been very satisfied with his brother's choice. Christina, after all, was a prize among women. Frowning, he admitted, “I can't recall much of von Vischering as he was a bit of a recluse, quite content to stay in his duchy and away from the politics brewing around him.” His voice tapered off as he wondered just how much of Christina's past he should divulge. Obviously, she wanted it kept private and in the hierarchy of peerages, even though she was married to a viscount, she was still a royal princess and her wishes should be respected.

“How long were they married?”

“About ten years, I believe.”

Ten years! She had to have been only about fifteen or sixteen when she married!

Watching the emotions war in Robert's expressive face, Castlereagh now wished wholeheartedly that he had allowed Christina to stay behind in England. If he had known any of this, he most certainly would have. Never had his intent been to put her in such an untenable position as she was caught in now. As royalty, she would obviously be known to many of the aristocracy of Europe, no matter how much the archduke and his former archduchess had kept to themselves. If the St. Poles had been careful to keep her so secluded, why hadn't the duke said something to him? Castlereagh didn't like surprises, and he intended to find out what was going on here.

“Robert, I don't know if I should speak any more of Christina's affairs. It seems to me she must have a very legitimate reason for keeping her past from you.”

Robert sat forward, tensed and insistent. “I beg of you, my lord, I need to know of this von Vischering. What of his feelings for her? Could he possibly pose a threat against her?”

Rubbing his face, Castlereagh sat back in his chair and stared off into space, debating. Finally, he offered a bit more, though quite reluctantly. “I understand he was forced to set her aside as she could not bear the duchy an heir.”

Robert seemed to have a hard time digesting this piece of news. “I don't understand. She was divorced because she was barren?” His voice expressed the stunned look in his eyes.

“Apparently she'd had many miscarriages, unable to bring a child to full term.”

After a few tense moments, Robert asked quietly, “Did they love each other?”

Castlereagh's empathic gaze studied the young man opposite him. Should he lie? When Robert's hesitant gaze met his, he nodded slowly. “It was well known they loved each other passionately. After the divorce and sudden disappearance of his wife, there were rumors concerning the mental stability of the archduke. But, again, they were just rumors.”

Robert remembered those cold, ice blue eyes devouring the sight of his wife. It was quite clear what the archduke's feelings still were for Christina. But what of hers for him?

When he recalled her fearful eyes gazing up into the handsome features of her former husband, Robert felt a numbing sensation curl about the pit of his stomach. At that moment he was more frightened than he had ever been in his life.

“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.

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.