Spring Fires (21 page)

"What did you expect me to do? Decline? If I didn't believe that the world will be well rid of that vermin—"

"What if you lose?"

"I assure you, I shall not." He said this in a way that left no room for argument. "For God's sake, Lisette, how do you think it made me feel, walking in to find him kissing you, touching you—your clothes half off? If I were less civilized, I would have killed him outright, at that moment!"

"What about my feelings? That is the second gown in one month that has been torn past repair by a man!" Her eyes pierced him accusingly. "Do you imagine that I enjoyed being mauled, forced to endure his repulsive—"

"Do not compare me to him!" Nicholai retorted. "And besides, if you feel that way, why are you against a duel?"

She sat down on the chaise, suddenly tired. "It doesn't seem right. It's like sinking down to meet him on his own level."

"Sometimes that's what it takes when one is dealing with truly corrupt evil."

As he sat down beside her, Lisette saw the faraway look in his eyes. "I am sorry... I'd forgotten about France. I suppose you learned a different attitude there...."

"It was forced on me. I stopped expecting bad people to see the light and become good; I am used to uncivilized types."

She sighed. How handsome and appealing Nicholai was... and his honesty was unquestionable. She trusted him. The impulse to allow him to take care of her was powerful. How lovely it would be to be free of the responsibility of decision making and position taking. Lisette felt weary, into her bones....

"I care about you," Nicholai was saying in a husky voice that made her tingle. "I think of you all the time, even when I'm trying not to."

She was pulled into his wry, wondering smile and felt herself smile in response. "I know. I feel—the same."

Nicholai's head bent; his mouth covered Lisette's with a gentle, lingering kiss that kindled a bright spark of desire within her. All the tense, traumatic agitation was washed away as if by magic, to be replaced by sweet, aching bliss. She answered his kiss as it deepened and felt her skin prickle when he slid a warm strong hand around the curve of her neck.

"Oh, God, Lisette, you are perfection."

She wanted to ask how Nicholai would describe Amelia Purdy, but couldn't bear to stir up new trouble. "Nicholai, why
did
you come here tonight? You look as though you're dressed for a party."

Between kisses down her neck, he replied, "I
was
at a party, but I made the mistake of comparing the other women to you."

"But surely, with their beautiful gowns and jewels and dressed hair—"

"There was no contest. You are exquisite."

This time, his arms went around her and he kissed her more insistently. Lisette wondered if a spell had been cast on her to cause such a keen response throughout her body. Everything about him aroused her: his scent, the tone of his voice, the cynical flash of his smile, the magical way he touched her....

Gently, Nicholai eased her back to lie across the chaise. The hard length of his body was pressed along her left side; as he kissed her again, he was opening the frock coat she wore, pushing aside the torn remnants of her gown to find her soft breasts.

Suddenly, Lisette went rigid. Her hands left his shoulders and flew down to push desperately against his chest. "Stop. Stop it!" she cried.

"What the devil—?" He was irritated, confused. To deflect her attack, he sat up.

"I am sorry—I just saw
him
when you touched me—I felt as if—"

"For God's sake, you couldn't say anything that would insult me more!" Nicholai stood and angrily raked both hands through his hair.

"I said I was sorry! I can't help it if I do not care to be pawed twice in one hour! Or must I surrender my body to you out of gratitude for your 'rescue'?"

For a moment, she thought that he might strike her, but instead he reached over, gripped her elbows, and lifted her roughly to her feet.

"It seems that we are once again unable to agree, Mistress Hahn. I only hope that, in spite of your aversion to my touch, you can muster a tiny kiss to send me into battle."

Stunned, Lisette opened her mouth to protest and explain, but Nicholai took that opportunity to deliver a bruising kiss that she would never forget. When he raised his head, she had time only to note the hard set of his jaw before he said, "Knowing you has been a charming experience... and since this may be good-bye, I trust you won't begrudge me my coat."

All she could see was the cynical gleam in his eyes as he watched her remove the frock coat. Then he was on his way toward the door, shrugging into the jacket as he made his exit, and still Lisette could find no words that would make either of them understand.

* * *

In the darkness before dawn, Meagan and Lion Hampshire lay snuggled together in their bed at the villa. Meagan was dreaming of Pecan Grove, her family plantation in Virginia. Tomorrow they were leaving to travel there for several months of companionable solitude; the plan was that they would remain at Pecan Grove until their child was two months old. Even Lion was looking forward to the dogwood and cherry blossoms, and he knew he could satisfy his craving for politics by exchanging visits with any of the collection of wise Virginia statesmen. Already, Lion was relaxed and feeling like his usual self; after a week of complete isolation, Meagan and he were closer than ever, and neither could bear to break the spell by venturing into Philadelphia.

Something was pulling Meagan's dream away—a noise—but she resisted, burrowing deeper into the covers and closer to Lion's chest.

"Someone is pounding on the front door," he muttered.

"Shh. It is still night. Wong will answer."

A long minute passed; the knocking went on. A voice joined in, crying out their names.

"Wong is at the Pine Street house, fondling.
You
sent the servants back there to pack our trunks."

Feeling him roll away as he summoned the necessary energy to face the cold darkness, Meagan made a petulant sound.

"Who could be so rude and thoughtless?" she demanded crossly.

Lion chuckled as he climbed out of bed and searched for his dressing gown. "You are spoiled, my love. Can you not bear a few minutes out of my arms?"

She laughed at this, watching as he lit a taper in the embers of the fireplace. A candle was then lit beside the bed, and Lion took the chamberstick out into the hallway.

The pounding was more frantic than loud; he guessed it must be a woman. Could something be wrong? Was someone ill or hurt? One of their servants? President Washington?

The patterned brick entryway was cold under his bare feet, but Lion was too preoccupied to feel the chill wind as he threw open the front door.

"Oh, Senator Hampshire, I was so frightened that you might not be here!"

He blinked in surprise at the sight of Lisette Hahn, haloed by candlelight. Her mane of curls was wind tossed, and the cold air had colored her cheeks and lips a dark rose. Anyone but Lion might have been startled by her costume of snug breeches, riding boots, and a rough, heavy woolen shirt, but he was well used to seeing his irrepressible wife in such attire.

"Lisette! What on earth—"

Impulsively, she leaned against his chest and drew strength from his warmth and steady heartbeat.

"I had to come. You are the only person who can help me!"

At the top of the stairs, the shadows were prickled by a wavering flame, followed by Meagan's clear voice. "Pray explain, Mistress Hahn!"

Chapter 19

April 26, 1793

Lisette, unaware of Meagan's once-thriving suspicions about
her and the senator, broke away from Lion's arms without a trace of discomfiture and peered at the indistinct figure above.

"Mrs. Hampshire? I am so sorry to disturb you at this hour. I wouldn't blame you at all for being furious with me, but I hope you will allow me to explain."

Candlestick in hand, Meagan descended, looking enchanting in a robe of blackberry silk. Her ebony curls were caught up in an ivory bandeau, and, to Lion's surprise, she was smiling warmly. "I didn't mean to sound cross, Mistress Hahn. Seeing you in breeches, I have a feeling we were meant to be friends! Why don't we all go into the kitchen while I fix a pot of tea?"

"There may not be much time," Lisette murmured doubtfully, accompanying the Hampshires into the kitchen and taking a chair at the hearth. After lighting the fire, Lion put the iron kettle in place.

"Now, tell us what the trouble is."

"How soon will it be dawn?" Lisette asked anxiously.

"I glanced at the clock just before I left our bedchamber," Meagan said. "It was a few minutes after five o'clock." She stood up and brought over the teapot as Lion removed the kettle from the fire.

"Good. There is more time than I thought. I couldn't sleep at all last night, trying to decide what to do. Then, I remembered that Senator Hampshire seemed to have some knowledge of Marcus Reems. He was so bitter last night when he learned you had lent me the money to repay the loan. It seemed to involve—forgive my presumptuousness—a personal grudge. Somehow, I thought you might be able to intercede. I didn't want to go to Nicholai's family—"

"Lisette, slow down!" demanded Lion. "You are making no sense whatsoever."

She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before relating the events of the previous night. She told them about the jewels, Marcus Reems's apparent resentment of Lion, and finally, the way he had attempted to force himself on her. At this point, Meagan poured the steaming tea and Lisette stirred in milk and sugar. Between sips, she revealed the story of Nicholai's appearance, his angry quarrel with Reems, and their agreement to duel. Her story ended with the explanation of how she and Nicholai had parted on a harsh note.

Lion asked if she could remember any of the pieces of jewelry, and after hearing two descriptions, he pressed for more details of what Marcus had said about them.

Finally, Meagan spoke what was in her husband's mind. "Clarissa. All these years, Lion."

"Who is Clarissa?" asked Lisette.

"Ah—a young lady we knew before our marriage," Lion told her absently. His mind was elsewhere.

Meagan interceded. "I think you should know, Lisette, that Marcus Reems is Lion's half-brother. They did not meet until they were almost grown, at which point Marcus developed an irrational envy of Lion—and it has only worsened over the years. He has never been able to best Lion, and as time has passed, he has eased his need for superiority by trying to tyrannize others."

"I should have never let it go after Clarissa," Lion declared. "How could I have been so foolish, believing that he might appreciate a second chance? If only he had not gotten Priscilla involved!"

"I don't understand!" exclaimed Lisette.

"It is a long, complicated story," Meagan said slowly, "but... Lion had been casually involved with Clarissa, before his engagement to Priscilla Wade. After Priscilla and I came to Philadelphia, Marcus joined forces with the vengeful Clarissa to make trouble for us all. Marcus thought he was very crafty, breaking up Lion's engagement and marrying Priscilla himself—but in truth it allowed Lion to escape the situation and marry me."

Lion broke in. "Meanwhile, I discovered Clarissa's involvement in the calamities which were befalling us. After we had it out, she disappeared with her jewelry case which contained a ring that implicated her in all that had happened. At any rate, she was killed in a coach accident—the wheel very suspiciously fell off—and the jewelry case was gone."

"You suspect Marcus?"

"I had proof that he possessed the rubies from that ring, but I decided not to pursue it because by then he was married to Priscilla, and Meagan and I wanted her to have a chance for happiness." He sighed harshly. "I hoped for her sake Marcus would turn over a new leaf, but after she died, he redoubled his efforts to damage me in some way."

"What an amazing tale."

He drained his teacup and looked at her. "Nicholai knows all about Marcus and me. That's why he has been making such a pest of himself at the CoffeeHouse; I asked him to do a bit of spying for me, to learn what Marcus was up to."

She tried to absorb this. What did it mean? Had Nicholai's attentions been an act to win her confidence?"

"Well..." Lion was saying, "one thing is certain—I can't allow Nicholai to risk his life after I instigated his involvement. He would never have been at the CoffeeHouse at all last night were it not for me!"

"Marcus just transfers his resentment for you to everyone else he comes in contact with," said Meagan. "Since he hasn't been able to best you, he has to build himself up by bullying people like Lisette and Nicholai." She gave her husband a tiny ironic smile and threaded her fingers through his. "This time I wonder, though, if Marcus hasn't gone too far."

"I'm certain that Nicholai thinks so," Lisette agreed. "Although he was angry, I doubt that he would have agreed to a duel if the challenger were not so thoroughly odious. I know that 'honor' is not his motive."