Love Me Again (30 page)

Thoughtfully, she looked at the still open door.

What had he been trying to tell her?

Varek stepped to the balustrade and looked down onto the entrance hall. Sergei was standing in the center, his hands clasped behind his back, looking about with little interest.

“You wanted to see me?” Varek's question echoed down with an eerie quality.

Sergei jerked his head back and looked up. “Good evening, your highness.”

The formality made Varek unaccountably angry.

“Come up.”

“Thank you, but I did not want to take up your time. I merely thought you should know that Basingstoke has returned.”

News that Varek had been dreading. Taking a deep breath, he asked shortly, “How is she?”

“Still has her cold, but she is getting better.”

Varek clamped down on his anger. “Don't be obtuse.”

Sergei looked away. After a few moments of debate, he admitted slowly, “She is unhappy, I believe.”

“How is he treating her?”

Sergei's mouth tightened. “I heard him giving directions to a few of his men to have her followed.”

Varek's fingers clenched abound the smooth wood. How he wished he had that bastard's neck between his hands! He nodded down to Sergei. “My thanks, Sergei.”

Without another word, Sergei bowed his head and backed away.

Varek stared down on his hands, still gripping the wood with white-knuckled rage.

“Damn it to hell!” he hissed out, then slammed a fist down on the railing. He welcomed the pain shooting up his arm, bringing him back to his senses.

With Wellington now in Vienna, Varek was going to have to think of another way to get rid of Basingstoke. Either that or kill him, which wouldn't please Christina in the least.

“Hell and damnation, why don't you rid me of this pissant?” he shouted into the cavernous hall, his words echoing back to him as ominously as a death knell.

Robert never did finish the strange conversation he had begun that night, and Christina didn't know whether to be relieved or not.

No one saw much of Castlereagh or Wellington, much to the disgust of all the Congress's hostesses, for they were closeted together while the viscount brought the duke up to date on the shambles the negotiations were in. In the meantime, Robert seemed always to be underfoot. Christina had to admit she much preferred it when he had been the unconscionable bastard, his own words, and ignored her. Now his gentle esteem seemed no more than a way to keep her safely under his control and out of Varek's way.

And so the next month progressed. By the end of it Christina was ready to run screaming to the nearest church for sanctuary. The man Robert had become was a man she would never have married. He was too moody. He was too kind. He was too solicitous. He was too jealous. He was just too damned unpredictable. She couldn't turn around without him dogging her steps, asking if she needed anything, and even when she demurred, insisting that she needed something, and bound and determined to find out what it was.

His love, or this new version of it, was stifling her. Much better if she had remained a mere possession that he had taken for granted. She never realized until now how much she had cherished the independence his behavior had once afforded her. But Vienna had changed all that, and even when they returned to England, it might never be as it once was between them.

She had never been a violently inclined person, but she was afraid that if he asked her one more time how she was feeling, she was going to take Katie's leash and wrap it around his congenial throat.

And in the background Varek watched and waited. He seemed to know of her frustration and his amusement taunted her every move.

Blast all men anyway!

Christina was sitting at breakfast when Robert rushed into the apartment and headed directly for his desk. “It is confirmed. Napoleon has escaped Elba and is marching toward Paris.”

Placing her cup in its saucer, Christina set Katie down and rose to her feet. “Is there war in France?”

“No, they seem to be welcoming him back with open arms, the fools!”

“But what of King Louis?”

“Fled to the Netherlands.”

“Oh, my God. There will be war again, won't there?” Silly question, for the Allies, who were gathered together at this very moment in hopes of arranging a world peace for the future, would hardly sit back while Napoleon ran rampant again. She hurried over to Robert and placed her hand on his arm, gaining his attention. “What is Wellington planning?”

Robert stared down into her frightened eyes, and some of his tension eased away. Taking her hand, he drew her over to a settee, and together they sank down. “It is too early to tell yet, love. But I think we all know Wellington well enough to take for granted that he is already making plans to deploy troops. Already dispatches are flying back and forth among the capitols of Europe. Rothschild was sent for this morning.” The premier money-lender of the world; already funds were being sought to finance the troops and arms.

In a daze she realized they were all facing the inevitable, war.

“Perhaps Napoleon has no intention of marching beyond France. Perhaps accord can be reached with him.”

Robert's gave her an incredulous look. “Surely you jest?”

She pulled her hand away. “No, I am not. Are the Allies going to at least try to negotiate with him?”

Shaking his head, Robert went back to his desk, searching for something. “Just like a woman. No understanding of politics whatsoever.”

However, Christina's insight was not too far off the mark, for indeed, emissaries came from the restored emperor of France with negotiations for peace. Apparently, Napoleon was content with ruling France and, as they had just witnessed, France wanted him to lead them.

But one of his conditions was that he wanted Belgium.

And so it started again, and the Allies recognized it. Belgium, and then what? And any country being ruled by a revolutionary was not a concept any of the Allies was comfortable with. What kind of message was that sending to all the people of Europe? The thought of another revolution such as that in France had sent shudders of fear through even the strongest of men.

Whatever halfhearted attempts to negotiate with Napoleon the Allies had opened where closed immediately upon learning of his conditions. War was indeed the only way to stop a man who knew nothing but his own egocentric demands for total domination.

By mid-March the Congress had declared Napoleon an outlaw, subject to the justice of the Allies.

With Robert gone most of the days and nights, closeted with Wellington, Christina was pleased to find that again her time was her own, though she could have wished the reasons different. It was on a bright, sunny morning that she made plans to join Tina in the park for a picnic. She hoped Varek would join them, but with the upheaval in the Congress, she rather doubted he would have the time.

As it turned out, Laure accepted Christina's invitation to join them and brought her brood also. Between the children and the pets running about, it turned out to be a truly enjoyable experience with hampers of food spread around in a banquet of delights to tempt the fussiest palate. Christina wished with all her heart that Eddie could have been there, but she had Tina and Katie to ease her sense of loss.

At some point Christina found herself puppysitting, with a wiggling menace in each hand. The pups’ mother, Sandi, was napping contentedly at her side, and Laure's little schnauzer, Minx, was lazing against her knee as she watched with perk-eared interest the quick movements of the children. Another game of blindman's bluff was just starting, all the children scattered in a wide circle as Laure's young son was blindfolded and spun around. The children's laughter and squeals echoed loud in the crisp air, and the adults’ light-hearted calls of encouragement had the blindfolded boy stumbling in every direction.

In her hands, the pups, Katie and CeCe, were trying to knock each other silly, sparring with bared teeth, their high-pitched whining sounding eerily human. She flinched as their teeth knocked together, and looking up, she searched for Tina, intending to call her over to help with the little rascals.

But she wasn't with the other children.

Scanning the park farther afield she didn't see the two burly bodyguards that were set to watch Tina when Varek wasn't with her. Even Sergei was gone. A trickle of unease slithered down her spine. Frowning, she rolled to her knees and again looked closer among the children, trying to catch a glimpse of Tina's bright blue frock. But still there was no trace of her. Worry started to pound in her chest.

Without turning from her perusal, she thrust the puppies into Laure's arms and stumbled to her feet, crying out Tina's name.

Immediately, Laure and Helen were at her side, also looking about. In no time the footmen and nurses were all ranged out along the park, calling Tina's name and questioning the park's pedestrians.

Christina herself was frantically going from person to person, when finally one little old lady pointed down a side street. Without even waiting for the lady to finish, Christina lifted her skirts and darted recklessly out into the street, dodging vehicles, pedestrians and curses alike as she ran across. A footman, noticing her frantic change of direction, followed after her, sprinting hard to catch up.

They ran at full tilt into the small street, the pounding of their feet loud in the deserted lane. The coolness of deep shadows bore down on them as they stumbled to look around them. Dismayed, Christina saw that countless side streets verged off from a small circular plaza. “Oh, no!” she breathed out, shock gripping her as she looked about helplessly. Which way? God, which way?

In the distance they both heard a high-pitched scream. It was undoubtedly a child's.

“Tina!” Christina screamed back as her feet flew over uneven cobblestones, down a passage to her left. Right at her side was the footman. Still more streets verged out from this small lane. Just when she was growing hysterical they heard the scream again.

“This way,” the young man panted as he ducked into another side street that was little more than an alley. And there, at the end of what appeared a dark tunnel was Tina, in a patch of bright sunshine, struggling in the arms of a woman. Christina watched in horror as two men stepped around a carriage to grab hold of the little squirming body and begin to thrust her up through the door.

Both Christina and the footman screamed their denials as they flew toward the kidnappers, and when they got close the young man launched himself on the man nearest him, knocking them both to the street in a tangle of flailing arms and legs. Without thought, Christina flung herself on the back of the other man, clinging to him with the tenacity of a barnacle.

Startled, he let go of Tina, who instead of running turned about and started kicking the villain. Cursing and jumping, the man kept spinning in circles, trying to dislodge Christina, who was scratching and clawing any piece of skin on his face she could reach. When his flailing fist struck the side of her face, she barely felt it, so intent was she on gouging out his eyes. His bellow of pain was the sweetest sound she had ever heard. But she hadn't time to enjoy the sense of power, for she suddenly noticed the woman coming up on Tina from behind and reaching out to grab her. Pushing herself off the man's back, Christina gave her own bellow of rage as she ran to tackle the bitch. Both women tumbled to the ground amid screaming curses and churning skirts.

The explosion of a pistol startled both women into looking up. Christina stared into the face of the man she had just attacked. His face was bruised and scratched and his look of utter surprise would have been comical except for the knife that he held suspended over his head, ready to strike her. It seemed time stood still as he hung above them, then slowly toppled backward, dead. When the woman gave her a fierce push and shot to her feet, Christina twisted about and grabbed her ankles, tripping her face first onto the filthy cobbles. Immediately, Christina rolled herself to her knees and then sat with a satisfying thump on the woman's back.

She hardly had a chance to draw a breath of relief before Tina crawled onto her lap and, latching her arms tightly around her neck, began to cry.

When the woman tried to heave her off, Christina gave her ass a vindictive swat.

“Shh, baby, I have you now,” she crooned to the hiccupping child, whose strangling hold barely let her breath. Tina's body was trembling, overheated and ever so dear as Christina held her close to her pounding heart. Their tears mingled as they pressed wet cheeks together. “The bad lady can't hurt you now.”

“I beg your pardon?” came an indignant voice from beneath her. “I never had any intention of harming the child.”

“Are you all right?” a wonderfully familiar voice inquired. Two pairs of wet eyes turned to look up at Sergei as he squatted down beside them. When he tried to take Tina from her, the little girl swatted his hands away and then turned her face back into Christina's neck. Sergei frowned as he stroked Christina's bruised temple with a gentle finger. She flinched. Now the pain came with a vengeance.

“We're fine, thanks to your marksmanship.” Christina looked over at the thug, whose blood was staining the dirt under him. Remembering the heroic boy who had run beside her, Christina twisted around to see him standing over the other kidnapper, proudly holding a pistol on the unconscious man. He grinned at her and gave a cocky salute.

Grinning back, she said with all the sincerity in her heart, “Thank you so much.”

“Excuse me,” came the muffled voice from beneath Christina again. The woman did seem to be in pain when she grunted out, “Could you please get off of me!”

Christina thought it over for a moment, then nodded reluctantly to Sergei, who was starting to chuckle. But then, he always had found amusement at the worst times. Standing, he helped Christina to her feet, while Tina, now more curious than frightened, was looking down at the woman.

“Thank God,” she muttered as she climbed painfully to her feet. She turned to see Varek's woman and daughter glaring at her with such hatred that she felt herself in more trouble than she had at first thought. This was one predicament she would not be able to charm her way out of. Looking around, she saw the two incompetent fools whom Roget had sent with her, one trussed and bloodied at her feet, the other dead. Sighing, she looked up into Sergei Massallon's frigid gaze, his mouth pressed into a grim line.