Chapter Three

Elissa did indeed go for a carriage ride the following day but not with the handsome Colonel Kingsland. Instead she rode in General Steigler’s fine black calèche, taking in the sights of Baden and stopping at a quiet inn for luncheon.

The general sat across from her at a table in the corner. “You didn’t enjoy the food?” Steigler asked. “Perhaps you would care for something different.” He was a tall, spare man, his features harsh, his thin nose sharply pointed. High cheekbones formed steep hills in his face and his slightly sunken eyes were so dark they often looked black. He raised a long-boned hand toward a tavern maid, but Elissa caught his arm.

“No, please. The food was delicious. I’m afraid I wasn’t very hungry.” She turned on a charming smile, determined to move toward the goal she had set for herself: winning Steigler’s confidence. It was difficult. She didn’t like Franz Steigler. His touch was too intimate, his eyes too coldly piercing.

Still, if ever there was a man who looked as if he might be the Falcon, Steigler was it.

“You seem tired, my dear. Perhaps we should return to the villa … or if you prefer, the tavern owner, Herr Weinberg, is a friend of mine. I am sure he could arrange a place for you to rest … upstairs.”

It was the first time he had made so obvious an overture. He wanted to bed her—a notion she found repulsive. But even should it come to that, a single night with Steigler would hardly serve her purpose. She needed to win his confidence, needed time to get to know him without giving in to his physical demands, to avoid him without putting him off entirely.

She had to discover if he was the Falcon, but uncovering the truth about a man like Steigler was no easy task.

“I feel quite well, General Steigler. Perhaps we could simply sit here and talk for a while.”

“Talk? My dear, what about?” The remark made it sound as if it were impossible for a woman to have anything of interest to say.

“Perhaps, as a famous general and a highly trained military commander, you might allay some of my fears. Staying at Blauenhaus, one hears the most frightening stories.” She glanced away, hoping she looked somewhat distressed.

“What kind of stories, my dear?”

She glanced around to be certain that no one was near, then leaned closer. “Just yesterday I heard that Archduke Charles is increasing the size of his army. They say he intends to march on Napoleon, that war might break out any day. I had hoped … believed that Austria was through fighting the French. Surely it is in our best interests to retain our friendship with General Bonaparte. After all, he has beaten us four times already. The cost in lives seems far too high a price to pay.”

The general chuckled softly. His callused palm reached out to cover her hand. She stifled an urge to pull her fingers away.

“My dear Countess. A lady shouldn’t bother herself with such matters. It is up to men such as I to make those decisions, to protect our women … and of course our country.”

“But what do you think, General? The British, of course, want our support, but the French—”

“I have heard that you are part English. I should think you would be in favor of a British alliance.”

“I’m in favor of what is best for Austria. My husband was Austrian,” she said. “My mother had Austrian blood as well. My heart has always lived here, General Steigler. I am grateful to be returned home.”

They talked for a little while longer, but the general said nothing that would give her the least indication that he was not loyal to his emperor and the Austrian cause. All the while his eyes kept straying from the swell of her breast to the stairs leading up to the bedchambers above the inn.

“I believe you were right, General Steigler,” she finally said. “I am a bit tired. The evening ahead appears to be a long one. I think it would be best to go home.”

Steigler frowned but rose from his chair. “As you wish, my lady.”

He returned her to Blauenhaus, though he was quartered himself at the emperor’s villa, and together they climbed the front steps to the marble-floored entry. Unfortunately, as she walked in, she collided with the tall man striding out. Elissa gasped and stumbled backward, clutching a pair of wide shoulders to keep herself from falling. Big hands clamped around her waist to steady her. She could feel their solid strength and the warmth of his fingers through her gown.

“C-Colonel Kingsland—”

“Beg pardon, my lady.” He flashed her a look of amusement, but made no move to back away. Standing as she was, her breasts brushed the buttons of his uniform jacket, and his eyes strayed downward, lingered several moments on the bare expanse of flesh before returning to her face. His mouth curved faintly and her heart did a mad little dance inside her chest.

Finally he moved backward, the greatcoat over his shoulders swirling around his boots. For the first time he glanced at the lean, dark-complexioned man who accompanied her, and stiffened, his eyes growing suddenly dark.

“General Steigler.” He straightened even more, his bearing perfectly correct, but she could have sworn there was a tension running through him that hadn’t been there before. “It’s been quite some years since our last meeting. I trust you are well.”

Steigler nodded. “I didn’t realize you were here at Blauenhaus, Colonel. Though I had heard you were back in the country.”

“If all goes well, only briefly. Just until the negotiations are ended.”

“I presume you have met Lady von Langen.”

He smiled with a hint of amusement. “I’ve been fortunate to have had the pleasure … on several different occasions.”

Elissa felt the warmth creeping into her cheeks. The general frowned at the colonel’s words and his hand settled possessively at her waist.

“You’ll have to excuse us, Colonel. Lady von Langen is feeling a bit tired. I thought perhaps a cup of tea—”

“I appreciate your concern, General,” Elissa interrupted, breaking away. “But I believe I should rather lie down. As you said, I am a bit tired. Thank you for a pleasant afternoon.” She graced the colonel with a slightly brittle smile. “If you gentlemen will excuse me…”

The general bowed extravagantly, while the colonel made a curt nod of his head. She escaped to her room, and as soon as the door was closed, collapsed against it. Her heart was still pounding and she felt overly warm. Her fingertips still tingled from the rough feel of the colonel’s woolen greatcoat.

Thoughts crowded in, images of the night she had awakened to the hot, shivery sensation of the colonel’s mouth pressing kisses against her skin, of his big hands skimming over her body. Sweet God, why couldn’t she stop thinking about it?

Elissa took a steadying breath and pushed away from the door. She had just started toward the bellpull to signal for her maid when a slight knock sounded and Sophie walked in.

“Excuse me, milady, but the footman just delivered a message. It’s from that handsome Colonel Kingsland. He said I was to bring it to you straightaway.”

Wolvermont. Would the man never leave her in peace? Elissa accepted the note with a hand that was slightly unsteady. “Thank you.” She opened the missive and quickly scanned the words.

Colonel Kingsland, Baron Wolvermont, requests the pleasure of your company at supper. Tonight or any other night. Please say yes, my lady.

A small, warm shiver slid through her. He wanted to see her. It was insane, completely out of the question. The man had a dangerous effect on her. She couldn’t think when she was around him. She couldn’t talk, she could scarcely breathe. The part of coquette she played flew right out the window the moment the colonel stepped into the room.

But dear, sweet God, in truth, a tiny reckless part of her wanted to see him. She had tried to tell herself she didn’t find him the least bit attractive. He was arrogant and far too bold. One look at that wickedly handsome face and she knew the sort of man he was.

It didn’t seem to matter. No amount of self-persuasion could dim her growing attraction to him. The encounter in the hallway had clearly proven that.

She glanced once more at the note. They were dining informally for the next few days, a lavish buffet that allowed the duchess’s many houseguests to come and go at their leisure. Tonight she had agreed to sup with Sir William, but tomorrow night …

Elissa shook her head. Dear God, what was she thinking? She couldn’t possibly spend an evening with the colonel. The man unnerved her completely—it was simply too risky.

Elissa read the note one last time, then sighed and crumpled the paper in her hand. “Tell Colonel Kingsland I appreciate his kind invitation, but I’m afraid I already have plans.” She didn’t look at Sophie, just crossed the bedchamber and sat down on the tapestry stool in front of the mirror on her gilded dresser.

“He asked to see you and you refused?” Sophie’s voice held a note of amazement.

“I told you, I’m busy.”

The little maid rolled her eyes. “But milady, he is so handsome. They say he is rich and he is a baron. Why do you not—”

“Just tell him, Sophie. I don’t have the energy to argue.”

The fragile girl straightened, disappointment clear on her face. “As you wish, my lady.”

Elissa almost smiled. Traveling as far as they had, she and Sophie had become friends of a sort. It was difficult to play the role of countess all the time, and she was able to shed a bit of her façade around Sophie, a least part of the time.

The door closed softly and Elissa sighed into the silence of the bedchamber, thinking of the handsome colonel with a mixture of regret and relief. She’d only had a couple of suitors, local boys she thought of merely as friends, none her father had approved. He wanted a wealthy aristocrat for his only daughter, but without a suitable dowry, the odds were never good.

Then her father had died, and living with her mother in the country, she had put off the question of marriage. She didn’t want to marry a man she didn’t love, and the chance of finding someone she did seemed slimmer every year.

Elissa ran her fingers through her hair, dislodging the sophisticated waves, allowing the fine gold strands to fall into the usual riot of curls around her face. Since her arrival in Vienna, her life had certainly changed. She’d been lavished with male attention, but until now none of the men had affected her in the least.

Part of her resented the hold Adrian Kingsland seemed to have over her, the other part was more than a little intrigued. Though complications were the last thing she needed, it was difficult not to want to explore the strange feelings he stirred, to discover where her attraction to him might lead.

Elissa stared at her reflection in the mirror, at the elegant, sophisticated woman who was nothing at all like the naïve young girl who had traveled here from England. The woman in the mirror was fearless and determined. She was there to discover the man who had murdered her brother, to bring the traitor to justice and protect the brother who still lived.

Elissa had left her rural cottage and crossed a continent to put her plan into motion. And nothing—not even a too-bold cavalry officer with a sensuous mouth and glittering green eyes—was going to get in her way.

*   *   *

How an evening in a villa as lavish as the one belonging to the Duchess of Murau could be boring, Elissa couldn’t imagine. Yet in the company of the slightly tipsy Sir William, it was.

Since the time she was a child, she had listened to her father’s stories of the extravagant life he had lived in Austria before his family’s fortune ran low. Excitement filled his voice as he spoke of the fabulous gilded palaces and exquisite balls, the ladies and gentlemen of the Austrian aristocracy. There were times she had yearned for the glittering wealth he had described, for the glamour and the beauty and the gowns.

Now that she found herself in the middle of such lavish surroundings, there were times she yearned for the quiet life back home.

Elissa sighed into the darkness outside the villa, grateful for the brief respite from Sir William, who had joined the gentlemen for a game of cards. Ignoring the faint sound of laughter coming from inside, she wandered farther into the garden.

It was quiet out here, the moon beginning to slip out from behind the clouds, casting a silver glow on the intricate pathways between the blooming roses. A breeze filled the air, cool but not overly cold.

“Good evening, my lady.”

She turned at the sound of the voice, her pulse speeding ahead, recognizing the deeply masculine cadence though she desperately wished she did not.

“Good evening, Colonel Kingsland.”

He glanced at the thin shawl draped around her shoulders. “The others remain indoors this night. You are not cold?”

“No, I find the evening quite pleasant. I tend to be overly warm at times, I—” She broke off as the memory of lying naked beneath the colonel’s warm hands and hot, searching mouth burst full force into her mind. In the glow of the torches lighting the garden paths, she saw his lips curve faintly, as if he were remembering, too.

“’Tis an asset, I should think, being so warm-natured. A sign of great passion, perhaps.”

He was doing it to her again—shaking her composure, making her feel as if the world had begun to tilt. “I—I don’t believe the two are connected.” But perhaps they were. She certainly felt hot and flushed now that the colonel had arrived.

“Based on our previous encounter, I’m afraid, my lady, I would have to disagree.”

Embarrassment shot through her. Had he heard those soft moans she was making in her dream when he kissed her? Sweet God, she prayed that he had not. Her spine went a little bit straighter.

“If you persist, my lord, in bringing up your previous, sordid behavior every time we chance to meet, I shall be happy to announce your abominable conduct to Sir William and your superiors.”

A large, darkly tanned finger skimmed down along her cheek. “I do not think you should do that, my lady. Your reputation would suffer along with mine. However, if it bothers you to speak of it, I shall not mention it again.”

He smiled roguishly. “Which is not to say I shall forget how beautiful you looked that night … or how soft your skin felt beneath my mouth when I kissed you.”

Her cheeks flushed crimson. “You are a devil, my lord.”

“And you, my lady, are truly exquisite.”

The ground seemed to tilt again. “I—I must be going in.” She started past him, but he caught her arm.

“Say you will dine with me tomorrow eve.”

“I cannot possibly.”

“Why not? You’ve spent time with Ambassador Pettigru. You’ve luncheoned with General Steigler. Surely there is room in your schedule to share a little time with me.”

She only shook her head. “I cannot.” She turned to leave, but once again he stopped her.

“I promise I shall be on my best behavior. I won’t even touch you, if that is what you are afraid of.”

Her head came up. Her eyes swung to his face. “I am not afraid of you, Colonel.”

“Are you not?”

“No.”

“Then perhaps, Lady von Langen, you are afraid of yourself.” Before she could argue, he caught her chin between his fingers, bent his head and captured her lips. It was a soft kiss, merely the brush of his mouth over hers, yet heat shimmered through her. She started to pull away, but the colonel deepened the kiss, fitting their lips perfectly together, tasting her gently. He eased her into his arms and she found herself pressed full length against his long, hard body, his big frame nearly a full head taller.

Through a haze of warm sensations, reason fought to surface. Elissa tried to pull free, but he held her fast, his tongue teasing the corners of her mouth, his kiss oddly gentle and incredibly persuasive. Her body began to tremble and the hands that pressed against his chest slid up around his neck. The colonel deepened the kiss, his warm mouth persistent, softening her trembling lips until she opened for him and his tongue swept deeply inside.

It was wildly sweet and incredibly erotic, but so unexpected Elissa jerked away, stumbling in her haste to be free of him, saved only by the arm he reached out to steady her.

She glanced up to find him staring down at her, a dark frown marring his face.

“I vow you are a mystery, Countess. One would think you had never been kissed.”

Alarm raced through her. Sweet God, she didn’t dare let him guess the truth! Her shoulders straightened. She forced her chin into the air. “You forget, Colonel Kingsland, I was married for several years.”

“Yes … A much older man, I am told. Perhaps that is the reason.”

She thought of her parents, the true count and countess, and how much in love they had been. “If you are insinuating Count von Langen was anything other than a virile, passionate man, you are mistaken, my lord. Now, if you will excuse me—”

Once more he blocked her way, a wall of strength fairly seething with male determination. “Say you will see me. Say it and I will let you go.”

Elissa’s brow arched up. “I could lie to you, Colonel, merely agree to your terms so that you would let me pass.”

Wolvermont studied her face, saw the flush of warmth that still stained her cheeks, the obvious attraction she fought to hide. “You could. But if you agreed, I believe you would enjoy yourself. Join me for supper tomorrow eve. Say yes, my lady, I beg you.”

She had to say no—she could not possibly agree to see him. It was easy to play the coquette with the others but the colonel unnerved her completely. If he got suspicious, if he somehow uncovered the truth, the game would be ended. There was too much at risk, too many people depending upon her—Karl, Peter, the gallant soldiers soon to go off to war, perhaps the fate of Austria, mayhap even England.

But as she stared into the green of his eyes, a soft yes trembled on her lips. Elissa dragged in a steadying breath and fought the impulse down.

“I’m sorry, Colonel Kingsland. I’m afraid I must refuse. Now if you would be so kind as to let me pass…”

He studied her a long moment more, then made a slight inclination of his head and stepped out of her way. “As you wish, my lady.”

“Good night, my lord Colonel.”

“Sleep well, my lady.”

She searched for a hint of mockery in his face but this time found none. As she made her way back to the house, she could feel his fierce green gaze burning into her all the way.

*   *   *

Her Grace, Marie Reichter, Duchess of Murau, a small, robust gray-blond woman in her fifties, sat before the garden window in her private suite of rooms in the west wing of the villa. Furnished in royal blue and gold, with heavy velvet tapestries and carved rosewood furniture, the suite boasted a lovely private terrace and a beautiful marble bathing room. A small fire burned in the marble-manteled hearth, for the day had turned blustery and cold.

“Beg pardon, Your Grace, but Lady von Langen is here as you requested.”

The duchess nodded at her aging white-haired butler, a trusted family retainer for more than thirty years. “Thank you, Fritz. Please show her in.”

The girl swept in as she always did, a slender blond whirlwind of brightness in an otherwise dismal day, her pretty face wreathed in a smile.

“Good morning, Your Grace.” Elissa sank into a curtsy, then rose gracefully to her feet. In a gown of pink muslin embroidered with roses, she was the image of her willowy blond mother, if a bit more voluptuous in the bosom. Marie had met Octavia Tauber only a few times over the years, but she had liked the woman immensely and was pleased that the count, her husband’s dearest friend, had taken such a woman to wife.

She motioned for the girl to approach. “Good morning, my dear. I trust you are enjoying your stay here at Blauenhaus.”

“Why, yes, Your Grace. The town is quite lovely and your home is beautiful.” She sat down on a stool near the foot of Marie’s carved tapestry chair. “And the trip to Baden could not have been more advantageous.”

Her mother’s frantic message, a tale of treachery among the ranks of the Austrian Army that had resulted in the death of her eldest son, had pleaded for Marie to help her. Karl Tauber had been murdered, the countess believed, to silence the identity of a traitor. His untimely death had prevented him from gaining evidence against the spy who had killed him.

It was Lady von Langen’s bold notion—or more likely, her daughter’s—that a woman, particularly a young and beautiful one, might be able to discover enough information to at least arouse suspicions. The duchess could then intervene, see the right men were given the information.

Another woman would have said no, but the Duchess of Murau wasn’t any other woman. She was fiercely independent, believed that a woman was equal to a man in every way. Perhaps more equal in some. If there was a spy in the country, he posed a tremendous threat to the nation’s security. Who better than the sister whose brother had been killed to uncover the man who had done it?

Elissa’s voice cut into her thoughts. “You cannot know, Your Grace, how much your help in this matter has meant to my mother and me.”

The duchess smiled. “Perhaps I can guess. I have children of my own. My heart would be broken should one be taken from me. I would do most anything to see the man responsible pay for what he did. Still, it would be difficult for me to put another of my children in danger to avenge the death of the first.”

“I admit at first my mother was against it. But it was Karl’s most fervent plea this man be stopped. And there is Peter to consider. He is a dedicated officer. A betrayal of Austrian forces would put his life in danger.”

“I gather you have not yet seen him. Does he know that you are here?”

“No. We thought it better to keep my presence as quiet as possible for as long as we could. The fewer who know the better.”

“That is so, of course. What progress have you made?”

“Very little, I fear. Still, I have stirred the men’s interest. Is that not a good beginning?”

“I would say you have stirred the interest of quite a number of men. Some of them can be quite charming. Be careful you don’t embroil yourself in something you can’t handle.” Marie reached down to pat the golden cap of curls that crowned the young woman’s head. “Remember, these are dangerous men … especially to an innocent young woman like you. Do not become so enmeshed in your role you are blind to the threat they pose.”

“I shall remember, Your Grace.”

But still Marie wondered. It occurred to her that perhaps the girl’s greatest threat wasn’t the man who called himself the Falcon, but the handsome Colonel Kingsland she had seen kissing Elissa in the garden last night.