Chapter Four

Adrian spent the following morning in the diplomatic meetings being held at the emperor’s summer villa then returned to Blauenhaus. With the day so warm, the sun shining so brightly, he made his way out onto the terrace. Perhaps the countess had also been lured outside by the beautiful weather.

Amusement curved his lips as he recalled their encounter in that night in the garden. She might refuse to see him, but she was attracted to him just the same. There was no mistaking her response to his kisses, or the soft feel of her arms as they slid around his neck. Her lips tasted even sweeter than her lusciously feminine body. Her breasts were fuller than he had thought, deliciously high and firm where they had pressed against his chest.

He’d been hard from the moment he had seen her in the garden, had wanted to undress her and take her right there.

Searching for her now, he glanced across the manicured lawns and spotted a group of women seated on wrought-iron benches, small bright-colored parasols shading their pale, delicate skin from the sun. The countess wasn’t among them.

Gentlemen in velvet-collared tailcoats and ladies in fashionable high-waisted gowns strolled the narrow gravel paths but still he didn’t see her. Adrian walked the length of the terrace, searching for her slender blond figure, but he saw no sign of her.

Rounding the corner at the far end of the house, he looked off toward an expanse of lawn on the eastern end. The duchess’s grandchildren, a little girl of five named Hildy and a boy, Wilhelm, only four, offspring of a daughter who remained in Vienna, had arrived at the villa just that morning. The children were at play, their governess close at hand, but the woman tossing them a bright red leather ball was none other than the Countess von Langen.

Adrian watched her from his place on the terrace, oddly pleased at the sight of the lovely fair-haired woman laughing with the two even blonder children, throwing them the ball then running helter-skelter to catch it when one of them tossed it back. She seemed different today, relaxed and carefree as he had never seen her. With her golden hair slightly mussed and curling around her face, she looked younger, the way she had appeared the first time he had seen her. She seemed less sophisticated, more the impulsive young woman he had kissed in the garden last night.

Adrian watched for a while, till the warmth of the sun began to seep through his scarlet wool coat. He unbuttoned and shed the jacket, slung it casually over his shoulder, and made his way down the steps to the lawn where the children were at play.

The countess was laughing as he approached, a rich, slightly more full-bodied sound than he had heard from her before, her face glowing faintly and shiny with perspiration. He felt the strangest urge to join in the fun they appeared to be having.

He drew closer and she saw him just then, whirled in his direction the same instant the little boy let fly with the ball. The countess yelped as the ball bounced harmlessly off the top of her head then broke into vibrant laughter. The sound made something warm unfurl in Adrian’s chest.

“Wilhelm hit you,” the little girl said solemnly. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

The countess smiled, playfully rubbed the spot where the little boy’s ball had landed. “It was an accident and no, he didn’t hurt me.”

Adrian leaned down and picked up the ball, tossed it to the boy. “Young Willie has quite an eye,” he teased. “I think he is going to be rather good at the game when he grows up.”

The countess looked at him and grinned. “Yes, I believe he is.” She turned to the children. “Have you met his lordship, Colonel Kingsland?”

They shook their heads in unison, looking up at Adrian with a bit of hesitation.

“Then it shall be my pleasure to present you.” She made the formal introductions and they responded with equal formality, Hildy making him an unsteady curtsy, Wilhelm making a rather too-stiff bow. All the while the little boy’s eyes kept straying toward the ball.

The countess must have noticed, for she sent a questioning glance toward Adrian. Surely you wouldn’t consider playing with the children? In answer, he reached down and plucked up the ball.

“I believe I shall throw this a bit farther than the countess,” he said to the boy. “Do you think, young Wilhelm, that you might be able to catch it?”

“Oh, yes, my lord!” Even before Adrian raised the ball into the air, the little boy started running, grinning broadly, barely able to suppress his excitement. He missed the first toss and raced after it, then ran back and threw it with all his might in the colonel’s direction.

“Try this one,” Adrian said, tossing the ball into a higher arc, aiming it perfectly into the little boy’s waiting arms. Wilhelm’s squeal of delight brought a smile to the countess’s flushed face and an odd thread of pleasure to him.

Willie tossed the ball back to Adrian and the four of them threw it in a circle for a while. It was the governess who finally put an end to the game, telling them it was time for the children to go in for their afternoon nap.

“I don’t want to take a nap,” Willie grumbled. “I want to stay and play.”

“It’s all right, Willie,” Adrian said gently. “I believe her ladyship could use a nap as well, and I have a meeting to attend. Run along now. Do as your governess says. The sun will shine another day and we will play again.”

“Do you promise?” little Hildy asked, lisping through the space between her two front teeth.

Adrian smiled. “I give you my solemn word.”

“C’mon,” the little boy said, taking his sister by the hand. “The colonel will play with us again—a soldier never breaks his word.”

He watched them race off toward the house, leaving him alone with the countess.

“Is that true, Colonel?” she asked as they moved out of the sun and walked toward the shade of the terrace. “A soldier never breaks his word?”

“This one doesn’t.”

She glanced away, then down at her pink satin slippers. He smiled at the grass stains that now marked the toes.

“You like children,” she said. “You’re very good with them.”

“That surprises you?”

“In a way.”

“Because I have none of my own?”

“Ambassador Pettigru told me you were unmarried. I presumed that you did not.”

“As you do not, I am told.”

“No. One day I would very much like to have them.”

He studied her face, thinking he wouldn’t have expected her to say that. For that matter, he wouldn’t have thought to find her playing ball in the sun like a child.

He shrugged his shoulders. “It is easy to be good with children. One simply treats them the way he should have liked to have been treated when he was of that age.”

She eyed him strangely, searching the lines of his face for what he left unsaid. His miserable childhood was none of her concern and not his favorite topic so he made no further comment.

“As a baron, ’tis your duty to produce an heir,” she said. “I’m surprised you have not yet started a family of your own.”

Adrian scoffed. “The title is mine by default. I care nothing for it nor what happens to it after I am gone. My life has always been the military. That is all I want.”

She paused for several moments, as if his words had struck a disturbing cord, then started walking again. “’Tis past the time I went in.” She started up the steps of the terrace and Adrian kept pace at her side, escorting her to the tall carved doors at the rear of the villa. When she stopped, their bodies nearly touched, the skirt of her pink muslin gown brushing lightly against his high black boots.

The sight seemed to somehow unnerve her … or perhaps it was simply that he stood so near. “I—I must…” She straightened a little, her manner shifting, becoming more reserved. “As I said, my lord, I must be going in. The children quite wore me out. I am in desperate need of a bath and a rest before supper.”

“Of course.” He smiled slightly, but made no effort to move. “I enjoyed the afternoon, my lady. I hope you did as well.” He bowed over her hand, brushing his lips against her fingers.

“Yes, I…” She glanced away. “Good day, my lord Colonel.” Turning, she hurried to the door, almost running, looking back at him as if she were suddenly in danger. For a while, she had relaxed her guard, but the wariness had returned full measure.

Adrian turned back to the wide stretch of lawn, his mind returning to the picture of innocence she had made playing ball with the children. It occurred to him that perhaps the less he pursued her, the more chance he had of wooing her into his bed. After today, it was a goal that held more appeal than ever.

*   *   *

The resort town of Baden nestled at the southern end of the Vienna Woods, an area of rolling, densely forested hills that stretched all the way to the outposts of the Alps. It was a lovely little town, Jamison thought. Constructed around the site of its fifteen natural hot springs, it was an elegant little village of attractive cobbled streets and four-story baroque buildings in soft pastel colors.

Traveling through the city, enjoying the sounds of children playing and merchants hawking their wares, Jamison leaned back against the tufted leather seat, his friend Adrian Kingsland seated on the opposite side. They were headed for another meeting at the emperor’s villa, more rhetoric, Jamison was sure, that seemed to cover little new ground.

The war and an Austro-British alliance was a subject they had discussed for endless hours last eve. At the moment, however, their conversation had turned to something else.

Jamison glanced over at his friend. “So she still refuses to see you.”

Wolvermont smiled darkly, his eyes fixed on some undefined point on the carriage wall. “Unfortunately, yes. The lady seems to have little trouble resisting my considerable charms.”

Jamison laughed softly. “Do not despair, my friend. ’Tis obvious the lady feels some attraction. Her composure seems quite ruffled whenever you are near.”

The colonel grunted. “I do seem to have that effect on her. Apparently, however, I do not ‘ruffle’ her nearly enough.” Adrian sighed. “I have to admit I find the young lady intriguing. She is vibrant and charming, quite intelligent, I should think, but it is more than that.”

“Perhaps it is simply her beauty. You have always enjoyed beautiful women.”

Adrian shook his head. “There is something about her … something I can’t seem to grasp. Most of the time she appears to be exactly what she is, a polished, sophisticated young widow, well bred and perfectly in control. At other times, one would swear the girl is an innocent.”

“An innocent! I daresay, Adrian, the woman has half the noblemen in Vienna panting after her. Pettigru is clearly besotted. Steigler seems no less charmed. An innocent, my friend, scarcely sets her cap for men like those.”

“True.” He toyed with the gold braid on his coat sleeve, but his eyes remained fixed on the carriage wall. “I wonder, does the lady realize the danger she courts in toying with Steigler? You know the sort of man he is, the kind of pleasure he enjoys. ’Tis certainly not for the tender or faint of heart.”

Jamison frowned, thinking how right his friend was. The general wasn’t a man to trifle with, not even in a harmless flirtation. “I have yet to form an opinion of the lady, myself. She is, of course, lovely in the extreme, and there are times, as you say, when she seems quite charming. At other times, I find her demeanor a bit too theatrical and mildly overblown.” He grinned. “But then I haven’t explored her … virtues quite so thoroughly as you have.”

“No, and not nearly so thoroughly as I intend to explore them in the very near future.” Wolvermont turned to stare out the window, drawn to the sound of vendors selling sausages in the narrow cobbled street. “In any case, the girl is the choicest bit of baggage I have seen in a very long time. I want her in my bed and I mean to have her.”

Jamison said nothing more. He knew the determined look that had settled over his friend’s suntanned features. Sooner or later, Adrian would have what he wanted. One way or another, the Countess von Langen would warm Lord Wolvermont’s bed.

*   *   *

Elissa stood tensely behind the green baize table in the gaming room at Blauenhaus, watching Ambassador Pettigru lose at cards. One hand of whist after another, thousands of pounds being bet and lost, the ambassador’s markers beginning to pile up on a corner of the table.

Colonel Kingsland had joined the game and was seated across the table, his not inconsequential winnings continuing to build. He was a good card player, exceptional, perhaps, his expression carefully bland as he laid down another winning hand. Several times his gaze caught hers, but Elissa forced herself to look away. She was determined to ignore him, to fix her attention on Pettigru, to do what she had come for.

She found it was no easy task. Not when her thoughts kept straying to the fun they’d had playing with the children on the lawn, to the way he had kissed her in the garden.

The ambassador swore beneath his breath, and Elissa’s attention returned to the table. She realized the man had lost again. He was drinking too much, a propensity she had only recently discovered that made his playing even worse. She wondered if he could really afford to lose so much, if his wife and family would suffer at the loss.

Against all her attempts to remain objective, she had grown to like Sir William’s bumbling kindness and fatherly attentions, a relationship she acknowledged with a sense of relief. It was her company, not her body, that attracted him, and the fact had spawned an odd sort of friendship between them.

Still, she didn’t delude herself. The ambassador remained a suspect in her brother’s murder, and she couldn’t allow herself to forget that. He was a smart man, and well connected. If his gambling this night was any indication, he was also the sort of man who might need a great deal of money. It was not impossible Sir William was the Falcon.

It was also quite possible he was innocent. With that thought in mind and hating to see the poor man lose any more than he already had, she leaned forward and whispered beside his ear.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your game, Ambassador, but I would dearly enjoy a turn in the garden and you did promise to escort me. Do you think I might impose?”

He blustered a little, glanced down at his hand then back at her with what was surely a look of relief. “Of course, my dear. I should be delighted.” He turned to the others. “I’m afraid you gentlemen will have to excuse me. Duty calls. The countess is in need of escort, and I am fortunate in being able to oblige—as I’m sure you will agree.”

They smiled and mumbled their concurrence, took his unwanted cards and returned them to the pile across the table. The ambassador shoved back his chair and offered her his arm and Elissa accepted it with a smile. As she turned to leave, her eyes strayed toward the colonel and his mouth seemed to soften at the corners. It occurred to her that he had guessed exactly why she had interrupted. His expression remarked approval, touched with a note of something else.

Surely not jealousy. They did not know each other well enough for that. And yet there had been a quick flash of something. Whatever it was, it made Elissa’s stomach flutter and her mouth go suddenly dry. She was grateful to be leaving the card room.

Walking together, they made their way out onto the terrace, stood for several moments at the wrought-iron railing, bathed in the flickering light of golden sconces mounted high on the rough stone walls.

“My dear, I shouldn’t have played so long. I didn’t realize’ that you were growing bored.” He held a snifter of brandy in a slightly unsteady hand, and she saw he was drunker than she thought.

“Not bored, Sir William, I assure you. I simply needed some air.” She smiled, watched him take another drink of brandy, and a notion that had risen earlier in the day began to surface once more. She tapped her fan against his shoulder. “As a matter of fact, I was just thinking … the night is still young, is it not? I believe I should enjoy a glass of sherry before retiring. Perhaps you might refill your drink, Sir William, and we shall sip them by the fire in the small salon.”

A bushy white brow arched up. “Capital idea, my dear. Capital, indeed.” Walking beside her across the terrace, he found a servant, requested a sherry for her and a brandy for himself. They carried the drinks into an intimate salon that only a handful of guests seemed to have discovered and sat down on an overstuffed plum velvet sofa in front of the fire.

It wasn’t until several brandies later, the ambassador well into his cups and pining over the absence of his beloved wife, Matilda, and their only daughter, Mary, a young woman close to Elissa’s age, that she began to probe his loyalties, hoping to discover the truth of where they lay.

“It must be a difficult job,” Elissa said, “negotiating so important an alliance.”

“Damnable war…” he mumbled, his head lolling forward over his half-empty glass. “Never good … never good.”

“No it isn’t, Sir William. I daresay it will be costly for the Austrians, with Napoleon knocking at their very doors. Perhaps our interference will only make things worse. Perhaps they would be better left alone.”

“Need our money, they do. Archduke trying to launch an army, don’t ya know. French … French don’t want that. They’ll try to stop ’em. Do anything … anything to see them fail.”

“I imagine they would. Bonaparte would surely pay a fortune for information that would help to defeat them.”

“Fortune … yes.”

“A man could make himself rich.”

The rustle of heavy fabric intruded, the sound of a man bending forward to lift the glass from the ambassador’s nearly limp hands. “Or a woman,” the colonel said softly.

His expression remained bland, but a dark brow lifted in disapproval at the state into which she had allowed the ambassador to fall.

“I believe, Sir William, the lady would like to retire,” he said with a hard, pointed look in her direction. “Perhaps you would wish to retire as well.”

The ambassador roused himself. “Yes, yes, of course. ’Tis well past the hour for sleep.” Pettigru gave her a lopsided smile. “Will you excuse me, my dear?”

“Of course. I—I didn’t realize it had gotten quite so late.” Sir William rose, swaying unsteadily on his feet, and she glanced up guiltily at the colonel. “Might I impose on your kindness, my lord?”

He made a curt nod of his head. “I should be happy to see the ambassador safely returned to his quarters.” His eyes ran over her, studying the way the color crept into her cheeks, and she wondered if he read her as easily as it appeared. “Good evening, my lady.”

“Good evening, my lord.” She watched him leave with Sir William, handling the man with gentle control, guiding him effortlessly out of the salon toward the stairs, saving the man from embarrassment.

She hoped he hadn’t guessed what she had been doing. Even if he had, and as guilty as she felt for taking advantage, she knew she would do it again if she got the chance.

Whether the colonel approved or not, no matter what it might cost, she had to be sure Sir William wasn’t the man known as the Falcon.

*   *   *

Blauenhaus buzzed with activity the following day, as preparations were being made to mount a hunting party. There were chamois and roe deer in the area, wild boar and partridge. General Steigler convinced the duchess that the ladies should come along, those who enjoyed riding horseback, and mounts for the guests were provided.

Having always loved to ride, Elissa eagerly joined the party mounted on a dainty dapple gray mare while the general rode his own impressive white stallion. Elissa thought the keenest animal of the lot was the big black stallion ridden by Colonel Kingsland, perhaps the finest bit of horseflesh that she had ever seen.

They rode throughout the morning, through wooded mountain passes and open fields, pausing here and there while the men rode off in search of game. Just before luncheon they reached a small red-soiled valley surrounded by forested hills, and the men began setting up a makeshift camp. Elissa wandered toward the area where grooms had picketed the horses, strolling along the line, admiring one fine animal after the next, pausing in front of the colonel’s impressive black stallion.

“Such a pretty boy,” she crooned, stroking the animal’s velvety nose. “And I should wager you can run like the wind.” She had always loved horses, had been fortunate to live just down the hill from a wealthy squire who shared her passion and insisted she ride his fine-blooded animals whenever she wished.

The horse nickered softly, pressed its muzzle against her hand. “You’re a fine one, you are. Your colonel has a very good eye for horses.”

“Yes, he does,” said the black-haired officer who stepped out from behind some bushes, Major St. Giles, she knew, for she had met him on several occasions. “As good an eye for horseflesh as he has for a beautiful woman.”

Elissa glanced down, flushing a little, knowing the major and the colonel were friends, wondering if he knew about the night Lord Wolvermont had mistakenly come into her room.

She ran a hand along the horse’s neck, felt the warmth of the sun absorbed by his soft dark coat. “You know him well, I gather.”

He smiled. He was a tall man, leaner of build than the colonel, with an attractive, intelligent face and a self-assured smile. He seemed a gentler, less volatile man than the baron.

“The colonel and I have been friends since we were children.”

“I give you credit then, Major, for the fortitude it must have taken to put up with so difficult a man.”

“Difficult? Perhaps at times. Mostly stubborn and arrogant, a little bit spoiled, perhaps. Matched against his courage, his loyalty to those he cares for, his unflagging dedication to duty, there is no man I would rather call friend.”

The words softened something inside her. She had sensed those qualities in him, but forced herself to ignore them, to see only his arrogance, his determination to have his own way.

“You’ve known him since he was a boy?”

He nodded. “We attended boarding school together. We were but five years old when we met.”

“Five! Surely that was young to be sent away from home.”

The major’s face subtly tightened. “Our parents believed it the proper course. In my case, I am certain they came to regret it. Adrian’s family never did. They were convenienced by his absence. He was a second son, you see, never meant to inherit and not of much worth in his family’s eyes. As a matter of fact, the Wolvermont title actually came by way of a distant cousin.”

She stroked the horse’s nose, thinking of the lonely child he must have been. “I was luckier than either of you. My parents adored my brothers and me. We never had much money, but we never lacked for love.”

He smiled slightly. “Then you are right, you were far luckier than we. Keep that in mind should you feel inclined to judge the colonel again.”

The horse’s ears perked up and Elissa scratched them gently. “I appreciate your honesty, Major, though I am surprised you would confide in me.”

St. Giles simply shrugged. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have. But for all your pretense it isn’t so, I believe you have an interest in him. Should that interest grow, it might behoove you to understand him. Few people do.”

For a moment she said nothing, recalling the colonel’s words when he played with the children on the lawn. It is easy to be good with children. Simply treat them as you would have wanted to be treated when you were of that age.

“Thank you for telling me, Major. I shall keep that in mind, though I doubt we shall become more than friends.”

The major nodded and looked off toward the center of the camp. “I believe the men make ready to leave for the hunt. I trust you and the ladies will enjoy yourselves until our return.”

Elissa glanced at their lovely wooded surroundings, the thick black fir forests and fern-covered hills. An ancient crumbling monastery sat on a distant peak, and the scent of pine tinged the air. “How could we not?”

St. Giles left her with a last warm smile and headed back to camp, leaving her to stroll back down the hill at her leisure. Halfway there, General Steigler intercepted her.

“Lady von Langen. I was wondering where you had gone. I was beginning to worry.”

She smiled. “I was merely enjoying a walk. The scenery is quite breathtaking here.”

“Do not let the beauty of these woods deceive you, my dear. There is danger here, wild beasts and sheer rocky cliffs, treacherous, raging streams. You are safe here in camp, but do not stray overly far.”

“Of course not, General Steigler.” But oh, she did so enjoy these lovely hills. Even with the general serving as her escort and the colonel’s disturbing presence to unnerve her, she was glad that she had come.

“I shall be back in a couple of hours.” His eyes skimmed lightly down her body. “Perhaps you will think of me while I am away.”

A shiver ran through her. Elissa forced herself to smile. “You may be certain of it, General.” But as he rode away, she breathed a deep sigh of relief that he was gone.