Love Me Again (26 page)

Varek flinched but, seeing the ravaged pain in her eyes, he did nothing to stop her. If this was what she needed, then by God, he would stand steady for her, even if she put a bullet through his heart. His face was burning, his heart was in tatters and his arms longed to pull her close, yet all he could do was stand steady and accept her enraged pain, wanting nothing more than to cleanse her soul.

“Damn you, Varek! How I
hate
what you did to me! You had no right to make that decision!” She brought up her fists and slammed them against his chest. “You didn't even discuss it with me. What was I, just some possession, some lifeless doll you didn't want broken?” She struck him again, her voice cracking with the sobs that were strangling her. “You had no right to ruin my life. It should have been my decision.” Crying, she leaned heavily against him, her face buried against his chest. “It should have been
my
decision.” The last words came out in a choked whimper.

Varek's arms came up and enfolded her close. With a weary sigh, he leaned his bruised cheek against her hair. “I gave you no say, my love, because I knew what you would do, and that wasn't an option. You were the most important thing in my life. Even having lost you all these years, I would still make the same decision if it meant keeping you alive. I love you Christina, and I could no more have stood back and seen you endangered than I could have hurt you myself.”

“But you did hurt me,” came her muffled accusation.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, his lips pressed against her temple. “I am
so
sorry, but I had no choice.”

“Yes you did.”

“No, Christina, I had none.”

Raising her head, her tearstained eyes stared up into his with a numb finality. “And now I have none.”

He knew he couldn't continue to fight her like this. Her nobility was too innocent, too consuming. When Christina loved, she loved with her entire being. Her son had a part of her that he could never touch and it hurt like hell. It should have been their son that was inspiring such devotion. It should have been his son that she had carried under her heart.

Knowing nothing else could be said between them, he gently kissed her temple. “We have to go find Tina,” he told her with a heavy sigh.

Sniffing, she nodded, her head resting again on his broad chest. She just didn't want to let go of him.

“Do you feel better?” A handkerchief was in his hand and gently brushed against her cheek.

Taking it from him, she blotted her eyes and nose. “Strangely, yes.” She gave a watery chuckle.

“Well, that is good, since my face hurts like the devil.”

Her head jerked up and she stared aghast at the skin of his cheeks, which was indeed red and flushed. Tsking in regret at her selfish actions, she reached up and cupped his hot cheeks. Then she kissed one gently, then the other. “I am so sorry, my love.”

His heart skipped a beat. It was the first time she had called him that since they had been reunited. Shaking his head, his own hands covered hers as she caressed his face. “Letting out rage is cathartic. I think we both needed this.”

This time she pressed a feather-soft kiss on his lips before she stepped back. Self-consciously she patted her hair, as she looked distractedly about her for her shawl. “How can I possibly go down looking like this? I am so embarrassed. What will everyone think?” She deliberately applied herself to making her gown and hair presentable. She couldn't look at Varek anymore, especially with the sight of the large canopied bed standing in majestic state behind him. For the first time she realized they were in a bedchamber. Blushing, she flinched when Varek draped the shawl around her shoulders.

“What does it matter what they think? We know what went on here, and you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“Except loving you,” she couldn't help saying sadly as she turned to stare up at him solemnly. Stepping closer to him, she rearranged his cravat, which was hopelessly rumpled. How she missed this simple task.

His eyes slid shut. “God, lark, don't say that to me now or I may not let you go.” He grabbed her fussing hands and bent his head to kiss her fingers for a lingering moment before he set her away from him again. He tucked a silken curl behind her ear, then walked toward the door.

“Will you do me a favor?” Her hesitant question broke the sudden silence between them.

“Anything.”

“Forgive Sergei.”

His lips quirked, and he asked with a comical reluctance, “Must I?”

Thankful for his attempt to lighten the mood, she offered him a stern frown as she marched up to him. “Yes, you must.”

“Oh, all right,” he grudgingly agreed like a sulky little boy. Then with an endearing grin, he opened the door, and held out his hand to her. “Are you ready?”

Supplying her own brave smile, she slipped her hand into his and together they went in search of Tina.

She almost resented Varek for what had happened here, for her wound had finally been lanced and was now healing. What she had feared was happening , she was letting Varek back into her heart without any reservations of guilt or anger. She was healing, and just in time for her heart to be ripped in two again.

They found Tina squealing amid a boisterous crowd of children who were scampering about under a huge tree whose golden branches were bowed under the weight of numerous toys and trinkets. Tina immediately spotted her father as they walked into the room. Running over to him, she grabbed his hand and pulled him under one branch where a brightly feathered bird was perched. A golden cord dangled from its jeweled beak, and when Tina tugged the cord a sweet melody trilled forth. Giggling, she looked past her father to Christina, her eyes dancing with delight. Turning back to Varek, she pleaded prettily, “Please, Papa, I want the lark!”

Varek looked over Tina's bobbing head at Christina and her breath hitched at the look of such love in his eyes. Then he told Tina in no uncertain terms, “So do I, little love.”

As the gifts were being raffled off for a charity, they had to wait with an excited Tina inspecting every gift won and stripped from the tree before the auctioneer finally reached her glittering bird. Varek won the bid with his first offer, gasps of surprise floating among the guests at the generosity of his bid.

The bird was taken down and placed into Tina's arms. “I will hang her over my bed,” she pronounced as they made their way over to their hostess to extend their thanks for such a joyous fête.

Princess Maria glanced at Christina and, seeing the wounded look in her eyes behind the polite demeanor, could only assume that all their speculations about what had happened behind that closed door was just that, speculation and nothing more.

Which was a true pity, for if anyone needed a good tumble between the sheets, it was Christina.

Vienna sparkled under a fresh blanket of snow, and wanting to enjoy the pristine morning Christina persuaded Sergei to accompany her for a stroll in the
Prater.
He did so, but his heavy-lidded eyes and yawns spoke of a long night; where, she didn't want to know. To compensate for his kindness, she directed their steps to his favorite
kaufeehause
and he only started to come alive after a steaming cup was placed in his hands. She smiled when with his first sip, he gave a deep sigh of relief and offered her an audacious wink.

When she noticed Castlereagh enter the crowded room, she was surprised. It was unusual for this reclusive man to be out and around alone; if he wasn't escorting the viscountess, or attending some fête where he felt the need to socialize for political reasons, he was buried under a mound of work at the consulate. He barely took the time to find the respite of sleep, let alone idle away important hours at a
kaufeehause.

She waited a few minutes to see if he was here to meet someone, but when it was apparent he was looking about for an empty table, she stood up and hailed him over. A smile of relief seemed to ease the strain on his features upon seeing her, and pausing to acknowledge a few acquaintances on the way, he weaved his way through the tables to her side. He greeted them both, bowing over her hand, and when Sergei held out an empty chair for him, he demurred till she brushed aside his protestations.

“I must admit I am surprised to see you here, my lord.” Christina told him after they were settled. She looked closely at his face and saw a weariness in his eyes that normally wasn't there. He appeared defeated, which was absurd for Castlereagh held a tight rein on everything about him. She doubted if the word defeat was even in his vocabulary.

“I am afraid I suddenly had this urge to get out of my office, and the morning looked so beautiful that I did just that. As my wife was already out, I simply took off on my own.” His words sounded a bit forced, even to himself, and when a cup was placed before him, he applied his attention to sweetening it.

Castlereagh swallowed a sip of coffee along with his depression, and took this opportunity to inform Christina of the latest information. “I am pleased to tell you that your husband should be back within the next few days.” The expression that flitted across her face was beyond even his intuitive abilities to decipher. However, he had the feeling she was not pleased. “And then on the tail of this, I am sorry to tell you that you will only have him for a few days before I must send him off again. The negotiations are not going as well as we had hoped and I need to communicate with Wellington again. I pray you will not think too unkindly of me, my lady,” he asked with a respectful smile.

Christina took in his words and felt a myriad of sensations sweep her body, but didn't seem to know what she felt. Feeling too disjointed to speak of Robert, she queried instead, “Do you see the negotiations reaching a conclusion anytime soon?”

With a sigh, Castlereagh cast his tired gaze about him, then reluctantly shook his head. “I fear not, my lady. And I am afraid England is not happy with my skill at the table.”

Christina glanced sharply at him. “How so?” With a shrug, Castlereagh turned back to her with a rueful smile. “How can they be happy with our progress when none has been made? They intimate that I am not forceful enough. Yet when I take a calculated risk they ridicule me for being too rash. I can do nothing right, it seems.” For a moment Christina thought he was going to say more but apparently thought better of it; Castlereagh was nothing if not cautious.

Suddenly, she understood what he was alluding to, and she was appalled, for if anyone had kept these delicate mediations from falling apart it was this gifted man. “They mean to recall you.” It was not even a question.

He paused then nodded slightly. “I pray you keep this knowledge to yourselves.” This command was directed across the table at Sergei.

Sergei gave a solemn nod. “Of course, my lord. On my life.”

Castlereagh gave him a strained smile, then looked at Christina and explained, “Hence the need for Robert's attention in this matter. The least amount of people privy to this information the better. If all goes well, the change of England's authority will cause as little disruption as possible in the negotiations.”

“Wellington,” she said tonelessly.

With an enigmatic smile, he nodded. “Wellington. The situation in Paris has become tenuous, to state it mildly. After the last assassination attempt we all felt it wise to remove him. Bringing him to Vienna to continue with the negotiations solves the problem of getting him out of Paris with honor and the pride of England intact. However, he is still insisting he has much to accomplish in Paris before he can come here. It could be months yet before we see him, if he has anything to say about it.”

“Months?” She stared at him in horror. She looked at Sergei and saw his own shock. She knew he wanted the Congress over as much as she did.

Castlereagh sighed at the stunned look on the faces across from him. “I am trying to impress upon him the need to arrive as soon as possible, for Parliament is eager to get me out of here.”

Christina was beginning to despair of ever seeing her son again. Wetting her lips, she asked hesitantly, “Would it be a problem if I was to return to England?” When she saw the beginning of a frown enter his eyes, she quickly added, “It could be just for a visit. But, if you see the Congress progressing into spring, I would like to see my son.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sergei shift in his chair.

Castlereagh pondered her request, tempted to honor her wish and send her home, but suddenly Massallon caught his eye, and a surreptitious message passed between the two men. Castlereagh glanced at Christina and the pleading hope in her eyes did nothing but exasperate him. He was getting so tired of manipulating people's lives. He could sympathize with the viscountess for he wanted nothing more than to return to Ireland and forget Europe and England and all the damn responsibilities that where beginning to suffocate him. But he knew what message Massallon had given him with that look. To send Christina away would earn the ire of the emperor's favorite cousin.

Biting back an uncharacteristic curse, Castlereagh firmed his resolve and explained tactfully, “I am afraid I can't allow that, my lady. There is just too much to be done here, and my wife does appreciate your support.” He felt such a surge of guilt as Christina quickly looked down, biting her lips, her distress only too obvious.

On the spur of the moment he decided to offer her a concession to ease her sorrow, he was, after all, a diplomat, he thought wryly. “However, I see no reason why your son could not visit you here. In truth, he is of an age where he might actually enjoy the excitement of a trip, and Lord knows there are enough children among the Congress to keep him company.” They both knew he was referring to the hoards of children present last night at Princess Maria's diminutive ball.

He finally felt a sense of accomplishment with his political prowess when a glow of gratitude shone from Christina's beautiful eyes. It was disheartening to think it was his first in weeks.

“My lord, that sound like a wonderful idea.” She paused as a shadow of a frown flitted across her face. After a moment, she entreated, “If you could perhaps mention it to Robert? He would listen to you.”