Rebecca Hagan Lee (33 page)

No other woman challenged him quite like Cristina--not even Meredith. And he had certainly never gone to such lengths to be with one. He still found it hard to believe he had coerced Cristina into staying with him in London to keep her within his reach. He considered himself a gentleman. But he realized now that he was a gentleman only when it suited his purpose. Cristina brought out the explosive side of him that had always lurked beneath the cool, rational, gentlemanly surface as well as the protective, intimate part of his nature. His life had changed since meeting her. Now everything was secondary to his overwhelming need of her.

Blake watched her now, diligently sewing some small garment for the baby, her shining head bent over her work. He hated to spoil the Christmas holiday for her, but he had to tell her the truth. "Rudolf is back in Vienna."

She looked up and her gaze found his, searching. "Why?"

"It's the Christmas season, Countess. Rudolf's come home for the holidays.

The Russian Embassy is hosting a Christmas ball tomorrow night and the entire Court will be in attendance."

"Does he know about us?" Cristina was anxious. "Does he know where to find me?"

"How could he not know? It was silly to think we could keep it a secret.

The whole city knows about us, Cristina. We haven't exactly been discreet."

"Will he come here, do you think?"

"I know he will. I saw him at the embassy this morning. He thinks our government and the emperor pressured you into accepting me as your protector while he was away."

"But that's not true."

"Rudolf thinks it is. He's adamant about seeing you, talking to you," Blake told her grimly, clearly upset with the new turn of events.

"I'll have to see him," Cristina acknowledged. "I didn't like sneaking out of his house any more than I like the idea of keeping our marriage a secret. I think I owe him an explanation."

Blake exploded with a force of anger that made Cristina jump. "You don't owe him anything."

"In his own way, he was kind to me," Cristina reminded her husband.

"He used you, Cristina."

"He may have tried. But he didn't use me any more than I used him. It happens that we were both victims of greed. He was a victim of my mother's scheme as much as I was." Cristina spoke the bitter truth as she understood it.

"Rudolf wasn't a victim, Cristina. He was a willing participant in your mother's little plan to deflower you for profit."

"But he had no way of knowing that I wasn't just as willing as he was,"

Cristina insisted.

"I thought you made that quite clear on the dance floor. You practically spat in his face. I thought you made your position very clear. I understood it, even if he didn't."

"Your memory has become very one-sided, Blake. Even you accused me of enticing him. He thought I was willing. He had reason to believe I was when my mother accepted that necklace on my behalf."

"But if you hadn't escaped down the bed sheets and I hadn't intervened, he wouldn't have stopped long enough to find out," Blake insisted stubbornly. "He still used you."

"No more than I used him when I made him bring me to Vienna. And in its way, my deception is worse. I allowed him to think I might care for him one day. Rudolf and I are even. Why can't you see that?" Cristina was tired of the argument. It was pointless. They seemed to continue to beat the topic of Rudolf to death with no possible hope of resolution. She struggled to rise from her over soft chair and find a more comfortable position for her aching back, but was hampered by the heaviness of her unborn child. She couldn't stand to argue with Blake after all the months of happiness. It made her sick inside.

Blake watched Cristina struggle with her burden and was filled with remorse for his jealous behavior. Because deep down, Blake knew Cristina considered Rudolf a friend. "Maybe it's because I came so close to losing you to him."

Cristina looked over at Blake with tears in her eyes.

"I didn't mean to upset you, Countess. I just wanted to prepare you for Rudolf's return."

Cristina's anger melted when he'd called her "Countess" in that particular tone of voice. It reminded her of all the sensuous whispers he used when he held her in his arms and made love to her. "Blake, we've been happy together these last months, haven't we? We haven't been living in fool's paradise, have we?"

"Yes ... no." Blake raked his fingers through his hair. "I mean to say that yes I've been happy with you and if it's a fool's paradise, then I want to be a fool for the rest of my life."

"Have I given you any reason to distrust me since our marriage?"

"Of course not."

"Do you think I'm like my mother or Meredith?"

"Christ, no!" Blake snapped. "You're not like that at all and you know it."

"Then why do you feel threatened by Rudolf?" Her logic was inescapable and Blake finally began to see things from her point of view.

Because I love you. He wanted to say the words aloud but something stopped him. It had been so long since he'd dared say them. And Blake was afraid to tempt fate. What if she couldn't say them back? "Countess, I never meant to argue about him again. I don't want him coming between us."

"Then don't let him, Blake. Please, just forget about Rudolf until the time comes for me to tie up loose ends and say good-bye to him in my own way. It's something I have to do. I don't want anything to spoil our first Christmas together. I want to be happy and I want to be with you."

Blake smiled then, remembering the remainder of his message. "Then I have a surprise for you, Countess."

Cristina's eyes sparkled with excitement. "What is it?"

"Our embassy is giving a Christmas ball next week, after the Russian and the French parties, and Ambassador Paget asked me today if I would like to use the ball as an occasion to announce our wedding."

"Oh, Blake!" Cristina clasped her hands together in delight. "This is the best Christmas gift you could give me!"

He grinned. "The negotiations ended early this morning. I telegraphed my parents in London to tell them the news, and although they can't be here for our announcement, they've agreed to make an announcement of their own at our traditional Christmas gathering at Everleigh tomorrow night."

Cristina pushed herself out of her chair and made her way over to Blake, then leaned over and covered his face with kisses. "You've known since early this morning and you waited all this time to tell me? How could you?"

"I've been keeping a major secret for months," he teased. "I didn't think one more would matter."

"Are we really going to go?" She couldn't believe it. She'd waited so long.

"Of course we're going, Cristina. I'm not foolish enough to pass up a golden opportunity to present my wife--my countess--to the world."

Cristina shrieked in glee, looking every bit like the twenty-year-old young woman she was. "Did you hear that, Leah?" she shouted. "I'm going to another ball!"

Leah came running from the kitchen. "It's about time," she proclaimed, knowing well the importance of the announcement. She studied the excited gleam in Cristina's shining eyes and the satisfied expression on Lord Lawrence's face and then she turned her attention to Cristina's burgeoning figure.

"Merciful heavens," she muttered. "What are you going to wear?"

Cristina stopped, remembering her advanced pregnancy. "Oh, no."

She looked so mortified, so stricken that Blake's heart seemed to stop.

"Don't worry," he told them. "I stopped by the dressmaker's. Your dress will be delivered in two days' time."

The following week, the British embassy in Vienna was all decked out for the holiday season and the annual Christmas ball was just the beginning. After Christmas came New Year's and a new round of parties and on the day of Epiphany, January sixth, the most brilliant party of all began--Fasching, or carnival, a splendid citywide celebration that continued on until Lent. But Cristina didn't care about the rest of Vienna's glorious winter season. She only cared about the British Christmas ball. She wanted everything to be perfect and as if acquiescing to her wishes even the weather cooperated, taking part in the enchantment by dropping several inches of beautiful white powder snow on the city, turning the parks into a winter wonderland.

The entrance to the embassy was decorated with green garlands--pine boughs, holly, and mistletoe tied with red bows and draped with gold cord. And inside the vast marble foyer stood a huge fir tree decorated with glass ornaments, paper fans, cornucopias filled with holiday sweets and a multitude of tiny white beeswax candles, and topped with a pure white porcelain angel.

The holiday display enchanted Cristina as she collected the smells, sights, sounds, and impressions of her second ball like tiny treasures meant for Christmas stockings. She shivered with excitement. Her second ball was even more exciting than the first one because this time she arrived on the arm of her husband.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked Blake as they stood in the entrance of the embassy waiting to be announced. She stood transfixed, staring at the breathtaking sights around her.

"Yes," he replied sincerely, staring at Cristina, at the sparkling green of her eyes and the snowflakes melting on her hair and eyelashes.

Cristina giggled, a deep throaty giggle that caught Blake in the midsection with the force of a blow. "I meant the embassy--all the decorations."

Blake glanced around. "A fitting setting for a beautiful countess."

"Oh, Blake, I can't believe it's really about to happen. I can't believe the day has come when we can make our announcement and tell the whole world."

"At least this corner of it," Blake commented. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off his wife. He had never seen her look so vibrant. Even her voice quivered with excitement.

"I'm so happy." She tightened her grip on Blake's arm as he handed his invitation to the doorman, then she looked up at her handsome husband who was formally dressed in white tie and tails.

"I'm glad," Blake told her simply. "Because I want to spend the remainder of my life making you happy."

Cristina shivered again involuntarily. "I keep thinking there must be a law against being this happy, that something must happen to change it."

"Never," Blake promised. "Not while I'm alive." He leaned down and brushed his lips against her forehead. "Don't worry, Countess. This is our night.

Nothing will be allowed to spoil it."

"His Excellency Blake Ashford, ninth earl of Lawrence, Her Majesty's special envoy to Austria-Hungary," the doorman intoned, "and his guest, the comtesse di Rimaldi."

Cristina heard the gasps of surprise that came from the lips of the assembled guests as Blake proudly escorted her into the ballroom, but she ignored the outraged whispers. She had debated the issue of using her alias, the comtesse di Rimaldi, with Blake for hours before she decided it was better than using her true name--her father's name. The comtesse di Rimaldi already had a less-than-sterling reputation in Vienna. Cristina saw no reason to risk tarnishing her own name by showing up, obviously pregnant, at a British embassy ball. As far as Vienna and the British community in Vienna was concerned, Comtesse di Rimaldi was Lord Lawrence's mistress. And Cristina thought it best that she remain Comtesse di Rimaldi. Ambassador Paget knew the truth and that was all that mattered. She didn't care that some of the men in the group were loudly protesting the fact that Lord Lawrence had dared bring his mistress to an embassy gathering where wives were present. She ignored the protests and insults thrown their way, and resolutely refused to let anything spoil her lovely Christmas ball.

She had every right to accompany Blake, every right to stand at his side at an embassy function or any other. On her left hand, beneath the elbow-length gold kid gloves, she wore was a heavy gold band that bore a carved adaptation of climbing roses. It wasn't the traditional wedding band worn by all the Lawrence brides--the one Meredith had worn--but a new one, designed by Blake and engraved with their initials, the date of their wedding, and the words: I choose thee. It was elegant and precious and all hers.

Cristina glanced over at her husband and smiled. In an hour or so, after the announcement, everything would change. Their secret would be out and everyone would know she and Blake were legally married.

A part of her almost regretted letting the rest of the world into their lives. Keeping a secret--an extraordinary secret--amidst the gossip and speculation and talk sometimes seemed more romantic than the reality--and so intimate and cozy. But another part of her was sick of the subterfuge, sick of the need for it, and Cristina gloried in the idea that the truth would set them free to love in the sunlight, as well as the shadows. And she knew Blake was weary of the subterfuge as well. He was proud of her and of their unborn child and he wanted to show them off.

Blake had gone out of his way to make this night special for her--lavishing her with expensive presents and outrageous compliments to make her feel more at ease in the company of the wealthy, sophisticated diplomatists and statesmen and their wives. He hadn't given a thought to the cost of dressing her for this occasion--only of making her feel beautiful, pampered, and loved.

And it had worked. The dress she wore was an exquisite velvet creation the warm color of pure gold--a shade that complimented her fair complexion and her lustrous red hair. With it she wore the gold kid gloves and another of Blake's early Christmas gifts--an extravagant rope of perfectly matched pearls which sported a rare canary-yellow diamond pendant fashioned in the shape of a teardrop. A matching bracelet and dangling dropped-pearl earrings completed the ensemble.

Blake stared at his wife as she tightened her grip on his arm. He had given her a king's ransom in jewels, but the diamonds and pearls couldn't begin to compare with the beauty that was Cristina. She sparkled, she enchanted, she captured the attention of everyone in the room the way she had captivated him on the night of her first formal ball.

"Don't pay attention to the ugly remarks, Countess," Blake urged. "Keep your head up and your back straight, look everyone right in the eye. You have nothing to hide. Nothing of which to be ashamed." He lifted her chin with the tip of his finger. "And believe me, there aren't many of us in the room who can say the same."