Spring Fires (46 page)

Gabrielle spared Nicholai the trouble of supplying her name. "I am
la comtesse de Louviers,
m'sieur, and the fraulein and I have met before." She then extended her hand toward Raveneau and summoned her most dazzling smile. "It is a great pleasure to acquaint myself with
you,
however,
m'sieur!"

While the Frenchwoman occupied herself with Raveneau, Nicholai reached for Lisette's hand. Somehow, she was able to keep it still but when his mouth grazed her palm a delicious, excruciating flame ran up Lisette's arm and sent sparks over her breasts. After nearly four months of aching for his touch, it was no wonder, but certainly Nicholai would see through this masquerade immediately if her body continued to betray her!

"Europe's loss is my gain, Fraulein Amstetten," he told her softly.

Under his searching gaze, Lisette gathered her wits. She curved her mouth in the flirtatious smile she and Devon had practiced endlessly, then lowered her lashes. "How kind you are, Herr Beauvisage!" The disguised voice was perfect; higher, yet somehow huskier, and of course accented, compared to Lisette's own.

Nicholai wondered if this were some wild, improbable dream. The eyes he stared into were Lisette's; there was no question! The hand he held was Lisette's. He couldn't mistake the fragile line of her nose, her cheekbones, her elegant neck, and the creamy curves of her breasts. Yet—

Lisette could not be here, let alone in such a gown, with these jewels and hairstyle and voice—and manner! And she had never met Andre Raveneau, he was sure of it.

"Andre, there you are!" A scolding voice preceded the diminutive figure that was crossing the lawn. "I thought that perhaps you and Giselle had gotten lost! Truly, I didn't think that the two of you would leave when I went over to have a word with Lady Margaret! It was bad of you not to wait for me."

Nicholai's attention was abruptly transferred to the woman Raveneau introduced as his wife. Clad in a beautiful white silk gown embroidered with blue and rose flowers on swirling green stems, the woman was exquisite. However, it was her strawberry blond curls and animated gestures that drew Nicholai's stare. He had seen her somewhere...

"I don't mean to be rude, but I do hope you all will forgive me if I steal my husband away for a few minutes—" Devon Raveneau smiled too sweetly at Nicholai and Gabrielle, but narrowed her eyes slightly in Lisette's direction. She slid one arm possessively through her husband's, then paused to glance back and add, "Oh,
Comtesse,
I heard the Prince of Wales asking for you a few minutes ago."

"The prince!" exclaimed Gabrielle. "But I didn't know he was here!"

"Oh, yes. I'm quite certain it was he. I heard him inquiring after you on the footpath behind the supper boxes." Devon pointed vaguely to the west.

Moments later, Lisette found herself alone with Nicholai after midnight in Vauxhall Gardens' densest shadows....

Chapter 40

September 4, 1793

Nicholai engaged Giselle Amstetten in polite conversation as they strolled through the trees on one of the more secluded footpaths. After weeks of rehearsals with Devon, Lisette managed to tell a convincing tale about her wealthy parents, their ancestral castle, and her colorful experiences in the great cities of Europe.

"And your parents?" Nicholai inquired. "What has become of them?"

"They stayed behind. Our castle is in a rather remote area and reasonably safe."

"They must miss you terribly." His gaze was concerned, but in reality, Nicholai was studying the details of her delicate ear and the graceful sweep of her neck.

"I... really couldn't say. In truth, we have been somewhat estranged for a few years, and I rather think they were relieved to see me go." She turned her head, wearing the bewitching smile perfected after hours before the mirror, and encountered Nicholai's penetrating gaze. Somehow, Lisette managed not to blush. "You see," she confided with a provocative glance through her thick lashes, "I don't seem to be the type of female that enjoys languishing in castles. Too much time could be lost waiting for a bold knight who might never appear!"

"I do recall hearing rumors that there aren't many knights making the rounds of castles these days...." Nicholai agreed with a wry smile.

She laughed softly, glorying in his company and in the sheer pleasure of watching irreverent amusement flicker across his handsome features. However, the instant that she saw his expression become alert, Lisette stifled her laughter. Of course, he would notice! How
could
they have forgotten to invent a new laugh for her after attending to every other detail so painstakingly?

"Is something amiss?" she inquired, her accent so perfect that she was painfully reminded of her own mother.

He stopped and casually lifted her hand. They were near one of the few lamps on this footpath and she was all too conscious of his gaze, as well as his mouth, burning her fingers. "No, fraulein... it is only that you resemble someone I used to know."

Hearing this casual reference to herself, Lisette was stunned. How indifferent he sounded—as though their relationship had been some trivial flirtation! In a perverse sense, she felt furious and jealous of Giselle Amstetten....

"Is it possible," Nicholai was saying in a voice that was both ironic and seductive, "that you could be free of romantic entanglements? There must be an ardent suitor waiting in the background!"

"Why, Herr Beauvisage, how can you be concerned about my other suitors when we have just met?" Lisette heard herself reply coquettishly.

"For your information, fraulein, it is not quite the thing in London society for a maiden to wander off alone with a man at night," came Nicholai's harsh reply. "I merely wanted to be certain that an irate fiancé wouldn't leap from the underbrush to challenge me to a duel. Frankly, I haven't the time these days...."

"For
your
information, sir, I do not have any suitors who are quite that ardent after so short a stay in London. Furthermore, I am
not
a maiden!"

"Indeed?"

Lisette rushed to keep pace as Nicholai continued along the footpath. Thankful for the renewed darkness, she declared, "The fact is, I am a widow."

"No! Tragic." He had stopped again, shadows disguising his sardonic expression.

"It
was
tragic!" she assured him haughtily, not forgetting her accent for a moment. "My husband was killed last year during a battle with the French army. Afterwards, I began to travel in an effort to forget... and when I came to London, I decided to begin a new life, and so I took back my maiden name."

"How sad." Nicholai's dancing eyes were masked by the darkness. He reached for her hand and tucked it around his arm before murmuring, "Such a difficult adjustment for one to make, as you no doubt discovered during your solitary travels."

Outrage surged up in Lisette. She knew him well enough to recognize the mockery in his voice, but certainly he did not expect Giselle Amstetten to be so perceptive! "It is an adjustment indeed, sir," came her frosty reply. "Living without a loved one can cause untold suffering that I hope you will never have to experience!"

"I appreciate your good wishes, fraulein, and my sympathies are certainly with you."

Lisette was too upset to notice how much time had passed since the last lamp. She didn't even see the secluded grotto that loomed before them. "Is it truly possible, Herr Beauvisage, that you have never been parted from a woman you love?" Tears stung her eyes as she waited for his answer.

"Love is a subject that I know little about, and which seems far too weighty for us to discuss on such a splendid night as this." Nicholai was leading her into the blackness. "There are other aspects of loving that interest me more...."

Although her mouth opened, no words would come out. She stared up into his recklessly masculine face and raged silently,
What about me? What about Lisette Hahn, the woman you left behind in Philadelphia?
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. He should have been drawn to her helplessly,
against his will! How could Nicholai be so casually cynical about love? Had she misjudged him after all?

He saw the fire in her sapphire eyes and reclined against the grotto's stone wall. It was lavishly spread with vines and ivy that cushioned his back as he drew the Austrian woman into his arms. "Relax, fraulein," he murmured. "I know exactly the kind of adjustments you have had to make since losing your dear husband... and just
how
you have missed him. I only want to ease the terrible suffering you spoke of earlier."

The caustic innuendo was all too clear in his voice, but before Lisette could unleash her anger, she was caught up in his strong embrace. The sensation of Nicholai's arms like steel against the satin gown that dipped low to bare half her back flooded her with hot pleasure.

"I—" she gasped. "You—"

"Just so," he whispered leisurely before bringing his mouth down to cover hers.

Oh, it had been so long. Too long. Nicholai's lips were hard and warm as they slanted over her own until his tongue thrust into her mouth to alternately caress, assault, savor.... Somehow, Lisette was able at last to draw back, breathless. His arms were unyielding, so she leaned against his chest until her head stopped spinning. The clean scent of his shirt was intoxicatingly familiar. After inhaling several times, Lisette finally managed to look up into eyes that glimmered with secret amusement.

"H—how dare you?" she gasped.

"With the utmost ease, my dear." One lean hand traced the bare creamy line of her upper back.

Trembling under Nicholai's deft touch, she retorted shakily, "I have not given you leave to take such liberties with me, sir!"

His laugh was soft and wicked. "No, but I do not recall asking."

A moan rose aching in her throat as his mouth closed over hers again. This time, he tantalized her with gently sensuous play between their lips and tongues until it took all her strength to refrain from pressing nearer to demand the deep kiss she craved. When he felt her hips arch involuntarily against his, Nicholai moved to brush scorching kisses along her delicate jaw and graceful neck.

Lisette's senses swam. She felt paralyzed by yearning more potent than she had ever known before. Her arms stole around his neck and she touched the crisp hair that curled over his collar. Through a haze, she saw his lean brown fingers against the pale curve of her breast. Somehow, then, Nicholai freed it from the minimal confines of her bodice and she shivered with fearful excitement.

"You—oh, no—you simply mustn't—"

He bent to kiss first the creamy ivory swell, then the taut rosy crest. She trembled in his arms. Although his own need pressed insistently against the confines of his nankeen breeches, he managed somehow to replace the tempting breast within its satin cover.

"If you insist, fraulein," he murmured in a respectful tone Lisette had never heard before. She only wished she could see his face more clearly... !

Giselle!
she reminded herself through the fog that clouded her brain.
I must act as Giselle Amstetten!
Taking a deep breath, she demanded, "Do you always assume such familiarity with women you have just met, Herr Beauvisage?"

A moonbeam silvered the rakish planes of his face. When he smiled, a gleam of white broke the darkness, yet Nicholai's arms did not withdraw. "Not always, fraulein. Only when I feel the lady in question is in desperate need of... comforting."

Lisette's sensitized skin tingled against the lean-muscled outline of his tall body. How she had ached to be back in his embrace, but she could not let him see that now.

"Is that the reason for your involvement with the
comtesse de Louviers,
Herr Beauvisage? Are you comforting her as well?" Her cold words shattered the spell between them. "I find it difficult to believe that your motives are so charitable, sir, nor do I accept your excuse."

Nicholai arched a brow in the darkness. "I am desolated, fraulein, but may I be so bold as to ask what is
your
excuse?"

"What do you mean?" Lisette strove to keep the panic out of her voice.

"I thought that perhaps you were seeking comfort from Raveneau, the husband of your friend... but perhaps you would describe it differently—"

She was elated. Just as she and Devon had hoped, the sight of her with Andre had kindled jealousy immediately in Nicholai. Now for the hot-blooded finish to their first evening together in London, to ensure that he would dream of her later... or not be able to sleep at all.

"Herr Beauvisage, you go too far. You are a cad! Release me!" When he threw up his hands immediately, feigning fearful surrender, Lisette promptly delivered a stinging slap across his hard right cheek.

Nicholai made no move to follow when she lifted her skirts and turned away. Instead, he stood quietly in the deep blue night, watching the lithe, willowy figure disappear among the trees. Long fingers absently rose to rub the offended cheek, while a certain bemused smile flickered at the corners of Nicholai's mouth for the first time in more than three months....