A Foreign Affair (27 page)

Brett had been observing her carefully as these realizations struck her. He watched the consciousness creep into her eyes and the flush stain her cheeks, and he reached down to raise one gloved hand to his lips. “I missed you too. Life here has been frantically busy, as you may imagine, but not a moment has gone by that I have not thought of you, wondered how you were doing, whether you were helping the German sovereigns negotiate their demands from a position that is now no doubt a great deal stronger in light of recent events.”

“That is true.” Helena marveled that someone so caught up in the preparations for war could keep track of such a thing, or even think of her at such a time. “And Princess von Furstenberg asked me to stay to help, but . . .” Her voice trailed off as she realized that she was on dangerous ground.

“And why did you not? Surely that was the opportunity you had all been hoping for?”

“Well, Mama was set on coming to Brussels, and I could not allow her to make such a journey alone.”

Her response was logical enough, but her averted eyes told him that this was not the real reason she had come to Brussels. At least he hoped it was not the only reason she had appeared magically before his eyes not fifty feet away from Wellington’s headquarters, appeared as if in response to his own longing to see her. For he had been absolutely, excruciatingly honest when he had admitted to thinking of her constantly,

When Brett’s carriage had rolled through the Schonbruner Weg on the morning he had left Vienna in the company of several other officers on their way to Brussels, he had been glad to leave the Machiavellian atmosphere of the Congress far behind him, had been glad to be doing something at last. But that sense of satisfaction had soon worn off to be replaced by regret at not having anyone to share it with. Naturally he had passed the time during the journey discussing the recent turn of events with his companions, speculating as to what Napoleon would do, how it would affect all that the Congress had worked to accomplish. But no one’s responses had come close to those that Helena would have offered. None of his fellow travelers had the perspective or the intelligence to place the events as part of the larger political picture or analyze the possible outcomes the way she would have. And no one could have sympathized with his own feelings as he prepared to face once again the enemy he had been fighting against most of his life.

Yes, he had missed her. And now he wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms, hold her close, feel her heart beating against his, and to cover her face with kisses. Instead, he had to content himself with holding her hand, feeling its warmth and reassurance, its delicacy and strength, just as he felt the warmth of her smile and read the understanding in her eyes.

“Ah, Stanford, I see that you are not with your regiment. Are you still attached to the duke, then?” An officer wearing the uniform of the Household Brigade came up behind them and clapped Brett on the shoulder.

“Why, hello, Thorney. Yes. The duke has kept me on as an aide-de-camp, so I am stationed here, but you, Thorney, what about you?”

“Oh, we are bivouacked out toward Enghien, but I am sent to headquarters with reports. However, I shall also take the opportunity to treat myself to a decent meal.” The officer cast a respectful but quizzical glance in Helena’s direction.

“Ah, forgive me. Miss Devereux, this is Thorney, Captain William Thornton, another one of our veterans from the Peninsula.”

“How do you do. Captain Thornton.” Helena summoned up a polite smile, telling herself all the while that she was actually grateful for the interruption. “I can see that both of you have important business to attend to. I must not keep you.” And nodding to both men, she turned and hurried off down the path to the Rue Montague du Parc toward their apartments and the solitude of her own bedchamber.

The very thing she had feared had happened. She had seen him again and she knew that she was powerless to forget or ignore him. She had known the instant that all the joy and energy so lacking her life those past few weeks had surged back into her at the very sight of him that she had been right to fear the effect he had on her, the power he held over her heart and her mind. The question was, having confirmed her worst fears, what was she to do now?

Chapter Twenty-eight

Brett, on the other hand, suffered from no such indecision. He had spent the better part of a month assisting the duke, as best he could, form a fighting force worthy of taking on Napoleon and his armies. His knowledge of French had been invaluable in helping the allied command pull together a formidable Anglo Dutch Belgian force by dividing and mixing the troops so that every division was a blend of nationalities rather than one composed of individual national regiments governed by their individual loyalties and a dubious commitment to the duke or the allied cause.

But the endless negotiating, the endless training, the tiring rides with messages from commanding officers of one regiment to commanding officers of another had only served to convince Brett that he had at last found the one fixed point in his universe, the woman with whom he wished to spend the rest of his life, the woman who offered him at one and the same time a place of refuge and a continual source of challenge and inspiration. All that remained was to convince her of that.

When he had caught sight of Helena in the park, it had at first seemed such a heaven-sent opportunity that for a moment he was afraid that she was a mirage. But then she had turned around, and he knew it was the living breathing embodiment of his own dreams.

Brett had sensed the hesitation in her in spite of the eager light in her eyes and the shy welcome in her smile when she recognized him, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it, to erase any possible barriers between them. He had admitted to Helena that he was concerned about the princess’ feelings, but since he had left Vienna, no word had reached him from the Princess von Hohenbachern though Wellington and others were receiving communications from the Austrian capital almost daily. This had made him more certain than ever that his attractions, at least in the princess’ eyes, had been eclipsed by those of other, more powerful men such as Talleyrand and Metternich.

However, in order to reassure himself, he made inquiries as to the direction of the von Hohenbachern household and presented himself in the Rue Montagne du Parc the very next day. The princess, who was alone, welcomed him cordially enough, but her manner, though charming as always, utterly lacked the flirtatious intimacy that had characterized it in Vienna.

“I am sorry that Helena is not here, for I am sure she would be delighted to see you, however, she has just stepped out.” The princess smiled at him in the friendliest of fashions, but all the while she was watching him like a hawk for any reaction be might have to the mention of her daughter, and she was instantly rewarded by his look of disappointment.

He recovered almost immediately, but not before she was able to ascertain that it was her daughter, and her daughter only, who was the object of his call. “I am sorry to miss her. I hope you will convey my best wishes to her. In the meantime, I am delighted to see that you arrived safely and that, judging from your customary exquisite appearance, the journey was less arduous than one might have expected.”

“You are too kind. Major. But stay awhile. I expect Helena back quite soon. In the meantime, do let me offer you some refreshment.”

It was no difficult task to convince him to stay, eager as he was to see Helena, and in no short order, fortified by a glass of port, he was soon explaining to her Wellington’s plans for the defense of the city.

Not a quarter of an hour later, steps were heard in the front hall and voices conversing eagerly in German.

A few minutes later, Helena and a distinguished-looking officer entered the room, arm in arm exchanging looks in a manner that showed them to be on the best of terms.

The princess cast one glance at the rigid expression on the major’s face and nearly burst into laughter. So, the dashing Major Lord Brett Stanford had fallen in love with her daughter, had he? The debonair officer who not so many months ago had told her that jealousy was too fatiguing an emotion to waste a moment’s thought on was now fairly bristling with it himself. The princess wanted to hug herself with delight. Would wonders never cease? “Major,” she rose, smiling graciously, “may I present you to my husband. Prince von Hohenbachem, general of the von Hohenbachern regiments attached to Blucher’s forces, now stationed here in Belgium.” She nearly laughed out loud at the idiotic smile of relief that spread over the major’s angular features.

“It is
my
pleasure. Major.” The prince bowed. “A great pleasure to meet the man who so gallantly escorted both my ladies in Vienna.” The prince too was arriving at his own interesting conclusions as he watched the delicate color tinge his stepdaughter’s face and the sparkle come back into her eyes. It was not exhaustion after all, but love that had left her looking so wan and pale. Good. It was time she found a man worthy of her, a man who could make her happy, and this fine-looking English major certainly appeared to be an upstanding young man, provided he survived the next few weeks, provided they all survived the next few weeks. But fate would decide that.

The prince smiled warmly at Brett. “I wish I were able to further our acquaintance. Major, but at the moment I fear that Blucher expects me back at headquarters. I only stopped in to say hello to my wife after being out with Helena, and to assure myself that the carriage and horses are all in good order should they be required to go on a sudden journey. My dears, I shall see you again tomorrow, I hope, for I shall be back in town to discuss further troop dispositions with the rest of the Allied staff.” The prince kissed his wife and stepdaughter, bowed to the major, and was gone before anyone could say anything.

“Well, Major, I do hope that you will not be equally precipitate in your departure. Oh, these dreadful times.” The princess twisted the delicate handkerchief she was holding with uncharacteristic anxiety.

Brett’s face grew grave. “I fear that I too must leave shortly. I only stopped by to inform you both that the French have crossed the Sambre, and to beg a moment alone with your daughter.” He saw the princess’ look of alarm. “Have no fear. Princess, the duke assures me that you will all be quite safe here. He has even urged the Duchess of Richmond to carry on with her plans for the ball, but it does mean that my services are needed elsewhere for a time, and so I came to say good-bye.”

There was no mistaking the look in his eyes. Interpreting it correctly, the princess rose and held out her hand. “Good-bye, then, Major. Godspeed, and please return to us soon.”

“I shall do my very best.” He bowed over her hand, then straightened and nodded almost imperceptibly to the encouraging look he saw in her eyes.

The door closed softly behind her, and Brett turned to face Helena, who appeared to be somewhat bemused by the rapid pace of events and the sudden disappearance of both her stepfather and her mother.

“Helena,” Brett gathered both her hands in his. “I know you are a woman of a most independent nature who entertains the greatest dislike for people who have the temerity or the arrogance to interfere with her life. Believe me, I had hoped not to have to do it this way, but events are such that ... in short, will you do me the very great honor, and bring me great joy by saying you will be my wife?”

“Your what?” She gasped and stared at him as though she could not believe her ears. In fact, she looked so utterly dumbfounded that he could not help chuckling at her expression.

“Surely you must see how much we think alike, how many opinions and ideals we share. I, for one, can think of nothing better than spending my life sharing them all, and so much more with you.”

“But... but...” Helena’s mind was in such a turmoil that she did not know what to think. She had spent night after night dreaming of his kiss, the strength and comfort of his arms around her, the warmth of his lips on hers, the passion in her that responded to his slightest touch. She bad even longed for more, but in all her wildest dreams, she had never thought of this! “But, but. Mama says that you are the sort of man who needs a great many women,” was all she could manage to gasp.

Brett smiled grimly. “In many instances your mother knows a great deal about the world, but not in this one. Do you think she would have left you alone with me even for a moment if she had not known what was on my mind, had not known that I love you? No, I think that your mother understood, maybe even before I at last realized it, that I went from one woman to the next in the hopes that I could find someone I could truly love. But it had been so long, and I had known so many women over the years that I had begun to think it was futile, to think that what I was looking for in fact did not exist. I even began to doubt that love itself existed— until I met you. Then I knew. It was not that I did not believe in love or that I ignored it, I had just never met the woman that I could love. Now that I have found her, I want nothing more than to spend my life with her.

Helena pressed her fingers to her temples and sank into a chair. It was all happening too fast. She did not know what to think. He spoke of love, and when she looked into his eyes and saw the light in them shining just for her, she believed him. She loved him in return, deeply, agonizingly, with her entire being. But so had her mother been in love—time and time again. And her mother had been hurt time and time again, until at last she had met someone who had never claimed to love her, but promised to take care of her because he needed her to take care of his infant daughters. And that bargain, made without love on either side, had lasted longer and brought more stability into all their lives than all the passionate affairs her mother had flung herself into headlong.

She believed him and yet she doubted him. At the moment she knew that what he said was quite possibly true, and that he believed it wholeheartedly himself. But he could not know that he would always feel that way.