Price of Desire (52 page)

Mitter turned toward her with a snarl, but did step back
.
His fingers whitened as his
hold
on the box grew tighter.

The library door swung open behind her and she felt the warmth that signified Wulf’s presence.

“What . . . I heard a s
cream and . . . what’s going on?
”

“This
vermin,” Rose spit the word, “i
s the one who’s been threatening Anna.”

“Mitter?”

“Yes.
”
Rose could feel his heat behind her
.
His hands came down and rested on her waist, his grip bruising.

“Give me the sword.
”
He us
ed that brusque tone of command
she heard him use on others with such great effect.

She almost gave in
.
It was after all the sensible thing to do
.
Then the image of Anna’s poor blistered hands blocked out reason
.
This was her battle.

“No, he’s mine.
”
She refused to look at Wulf as she pushed forward with the sword.

Mitter stepped back at the fury of her words, as if finally understanding the danger
in which he’d placed himself
.

Wulf’s hands moved from her waist to her arms
.
She could feel the strength of his arms behind her, his muscles flexed and ready, knew he would have the sword from her in a moment.

His breath beat hot against her neck
.
“What has he done to you
?
Are you injured?
”
He tensed behind her, a solid wall of anger and muscle.

“No, I am
uninjured
.”

His muscle flexed, his hands closed over hers
.
She could feel the desire for Mitter’s blood rolling off him, warring with her own
.
The pressure of his grip was incredible.

She lowered her tone, enclosed the two of them in a private world
.
“You are hurting me
.
Let me do this, I am capable and he is mine.
”
She spat the last word.

His fingers pulled against hers, she could feel her hold slip. Then his arms dropped
.
He stepped back and moved to lean in the doorway, blocking anybody else from entering.

“Consider him a wedding gift then, but do keep in mind that if you kill him we’ll have to spend the evening with
the
magistrate
.
Not at all what I had in mind.
”
His tone was flat and serious
.

She peeped over her shoulder, taking him in for the first time
.
She quivered deep in her belly
.
His gaze was locked on Mitter
.
His eyes shone with a deadly gleam
.
This was the man who had survived Waterloo
.
He might be leaving her the
battle
field, but he was not ready to absent himself from the action.

Sensing her inattention
,
Mitter stepped back.

She jerked forward with the sword, pricking Mitter
.
“What is this all about
?
Why are you after the maps?”

Mitter turned a most unbecoming shade of purple and sputtered, “I won’t tell you
.
I won’t”

She pricked him again
.
Her arm began to ache with the effort.

“I’ll keep it secret ‘til I die.”

“Tell me.
”
This time she jabbed him hard enough to draw blood
.
A spot welled red against his shirt.

“That hurt.”

She did it again.

Mitter’s head dropped forward
.
“Under pain of death
,
I shall tell you the secrets that no living man knows.”

What drivel
.
She almost jabbed him again
.
She had no time for this
.
Her daughter had been injured, endangered.

Mitter raised his pale blue eyes and stared deep into hers
.
“You must promise never to repeat.”

She tilted the heavy sword
.
“I don’t think I am going to be the one making promises.
”

She felt Wulf behind her again, his strength and anger supporting her, aiding her
.

Rose considered
.
The power, the intensity of this moment was incredible
.
Energy rushed through her, filled her
.
But, she could feel the tremors beginning deep in the tendons of her arm
.
In a moment Mitter would see the
m
too
.
I
f she were alone she would have weathered
on, refused to surrender ‘til her arm gave out.

She was not alone.

Sh
e sighed and eased her head
back against Wulf’s chest
.
She thrust the sword one more time.

“You caused injury to my daughter, for that you will pay, whatever your reason
.
Do not think I forget.
”
She turned her head again and stared straight up at Wulf
.
“You brought him
.
You figure out what to do with him.”

Wulf
’s
hand trailed down her arm until they held th
e sword together
.
She could fee
l the ease in her straining muscles as he lifted its weight from her
.
She clasped her fingers once more, tight around the pommel and then let go, her arms falling to her side
.
Wulf continued to hold the sword straight out as if it weighed no more than a wooden practice blade.

She stepped back and watched the two men, the bold protector and the now quivering rabbit
.
Wulf’s eyes were locked on Mitter’s throat, the blade rising to follow.

Rose spoke, afraid of that glittering stare
.
“You mentioned not wanting to deal with the magistrate.”

She saw him stiffen, an inner battle raging
.
He lowered the tip a few inches
.
“You are fortunate that I have had the unwelcome experience of dealing with corpses.”

Mitter jerked at the words.

“Your dead body,
”
Wulf let the words hang, “would be even more difficult to dispose of than your breathing one.
”

Wulf’s arm stiffened again, but Rose could see the bloodlust fade from his eyes
.
He spoke very softly
.
“You are further fortunate that Anna did not suffer greater harm
.
I am tempted to hold your hands to the flame to find how you react
.
If she had suffered
from your actions there would b
e no hole in hell deep enough for you to slither into.”

“Of course, of course
.
Never meant harm.
”
Mitter tried to step bac
k, but he had reached the wall.

“Put the map on the table and take a seat
.
Do not move further or I will slice your worthless skin from you.”

He waved the sword in the direction of the chairs before the unlit fire and Mitter immediately scurried into one of them, his knobby knees actually clicked as he sat.

Rose tilted up her chin and moved to sit directly across from him
.
Wulf moved to the left of her chair
.
He did not seat himself
.
He lowered the sword, but Rose could
see his hand flex and tighten
about it again, and again.

“Begin.
”
They spoke in unison, united.

“IwanttofindTroy.
”
Mitter rushed out the words
,
not leaving a space between them.

“Say that again.
”

Mitter gulped air, coughed, a
nd turned an
even deeper shade of purple
.
“I want to find Troy.”

“But Troy
doesn’t exist
.
It’s a fable,
”
she said
.
That could not be the real explanation to all this.

“I think it did
.
And so did Admiral Burberry
.
I heard you say so.”

“Well
,
yes, he always did say that
.
But, I never took him seriously.”

“You didn’t?” Mitter sounded shocked.

“No, why would I
?
Why would anybody
?
It would be like believing in . . . Atlantis
or Noah’s Ark
.”

Mitter tapped his fingers
on the
edge of the chair and didn’t answer
.
The veins in his neck throbbed and he glanced a
t the sword Wulf’s long finger
s caressed
.

She filled her lungs with air and exhaled slowly
.
Could this really be what it was all about
?
“What does my map have to do with finding Troy
?
I’ve studied it a hundred times with Anna and know the city isn’t marked
.
Why do you think this would help?
”
She ran her finger over the
paper tracing the sea monster.

For a moment it seemed Mitter would remain silent
.
He sat stiff
ly
in the chair, his fingers continuing their restless dance
.
Then he slumped forward, catching his face in his hands, defeated.

“I returned from the Dardanelles at the end of last summer
.
I’d spent two years living there with cousins, an old aristocratic family that had been there for generations
.
I’d always been interested in history and
when I came of age it
seemed the chance to live my dreams
.
I convinced my parents that travel would give me the seasoning I needed.”

“I am not sur
e that I understand what . . . ,
”
Rose began
.
Wulf’s fingers curved about her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze
.
She shifted, but nodded at Mitter to continue
.
He gulped, looking as if he swallowed his tongue, but continued.

“I thought I’d gone to heaven
.
There was always some clue to be found, some shard of pottery or piece of bead
.
I could stand on the shores and imagine the thousand ships rowing ever closer to the walled city
.
Like you I thought at first it was all myth, but even myths have a fragment of reality at their base.

“The longer I was there the more possible it seemed to me that it was all real
.
I walked the hills for days trying to picture how the land had laid
.
I poured over every description I could find, put together the pieces – where the rivers had run, what rise of land was new and what had stood a thousand years
.
I talked to everybody I could find, learned every
shephe
rd’s family history
.
I let my dreams run wild until I could see how it must have stood.”

Mitter’s eyes flashed brightly as he spoke
,
his words rushing onward like a brook as they bubbled and gathered speed.

“And then I started to draw, I looked at the land the way it was and drew the way it might have been
.
One of my cousins saw my sketches and laughed
.
He said that a decade or more ago they’d had maps just like that
.
Maps traced and retraced from thousands of years a go.”

Mitter st
opped the
n and his look grew ponderous
.