Chapter Five

Adrian sat comfortably in the saddle, riding at the rear of the group as they headed out of the valley. The sun beat down, warming the air at the slightly higher elevation, and he had taken off his jacket, leaving him in his full-sleeved white lawn shirt. His saber hung from his belt as it always did, and his musket balanced on the pommel of his saddle. Jamie rode beside him, also shed of his coat.

“You were speaking to Lady von Langen,” Adrian said casually as they crested the rise. “What did the lovely young countess have to say?”

Jamie smiled. “That you had a good eye for horses.”

Adrian’s mouth curved faintly. “She liked Minotaur, did she?”

“Overly, it seemed. The lady appears to appreciate horses a good deal. She’s a very fine rider, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Adrian grunted. “There is little about the countess that I have not noticed.” He glanced back toward the camp fading into the distance: the ladies in their riding habits, canvas awnings to protect them from the sun; a bevy of servants fluttering about; tables covered with linen and set with an array of delicacies, cold meats, fruits, and cheeses. “What else did she have to say?”

“She said that you were difficult.”

His brow shot up. “Difficult? Why, I am the soul of congeniality.”

Jamie laughed softly. “Actually, she implied that as your friend, I must be a paragon of virtue to have put up with you for all these years.”

Adrian grunted. “The little minx said that?”

“I’m afraid she did.”

“I suppose you agreed with her.”

“Of course,” Jamie said with a grin. “And you were right, she does have an innocence about her. I believe she tries to disguise it, but it is there just the same. Perhaps that is part of what makes her so attractive.”

Adrian said nothing. He was thinking about the countess, recalling the joy in her face as she played with the children and wondering at her growing association with Franz Steigler. If Adrian’s instincts were correct, the lady was getting in way over her head. Perhaps he would try to warn her. In this mayhap she would listen.

A huge hawk flew from the top of a tree, screeching a warning at the intruders passing below, and Adrian’s attention returned to his surroundings. He was there for the hunt and he meant to enjoy it. He nudged the big black stallion ahead and the other men did the same, dropping out of sight over the rise.

It was several hours later before he rode that same trail in the opposite direction, making his way back to camp. A red stag roe deer, a brace of pheasants, and two plump partridges hung over the withers of a packhorse trailing along at the rear. Up ahead, the hunters reined in at the top of a ridge.

“What is it?” Adrian asked Jamie, coming up beside him.

“Wild boar. A big one. The general spotted it first. He has dismounted and moved into the brush in an effort to get close enough to shoot.”

Adrian surveyed the nearby mountains, recognizing a huge granite cliff face they had passed on their way out. “I don’t like it, Jamie. We’re too close to camp. If the general should wound instead of kill, the ladies might be in danger.”

Jamie followed his gaze toward the ravine the general had ridden into, recognizing the same granite landmark Adrian had seen. “There isn’t much we can do about it—except pray if he finds the beast, his shot is clean.”

Adrian simply nodded, but he nudged the big black forward toward the front of the group of men, pulled up beneath a beech tree and checked the load in his musket. He pulled a pistol from his saddlebags, checked the load, and stuffed it into the waistband of his breeches.

The stallion began to dance beneath him, its ears going up, nostrils flaring. “Easy, boy.” He slid a hand down the stallion’s neck, gentling him a little while his gaze searched the forest and surrounding hills. No sign of Steigler.

He could hear the whispers of the men, the creak of their saddles beneath them, the shuffle of horses’ hooves. A musket shot broke through the sounds, echoing across the valley, and Adrian set his heels to the stallion’s ribs. Urging the horse down the hill, he rode off at a gallop toward where the shot had come from.

A second shot fired, a spare musket the general’s servant carried for him, and Adrian reined the stallion off toward a cluster of low-lying shrubs, sliding to a halt just as Steigler swung up on his horse.

“Hurry with that musket, you fool!” he roared at the man working frantically to reload the first gun.

“Where is he!” Adrian shouted, and Steigler’s head jerked up.

“Biggest damned boar I’ve ever seen. Took a shot to the lung and it didn’t even faze him. He’s a trophy, Colonel—a magnificent specimen—and I intend to bring him down.”

“Which way did he go?”

“That way!” The general pointed toward the trail leading back to the camp and Adrian’s blood ran cold He set his heels to the horse, urging it up the hill, leaning over the animal’s neck for greater speed. He didn’t care about the general’s trophy boar. He didn’t care about anything but the unsuspecting women back in camp.

“That boar is mine, Colonel Kingsland, do you hear!” the general called after him.

Adrian didn’t answer, just urged the stallion faster, riding full tilt back toward the camp. Dust and pine needles flew up from the horse’s hooves, branches slapped him in the face, threatening to knock him from the saddle, but he plunged ahead, all the while praying the wounded animal had turned off the trail before it reached the camp. A trail of blood on the path in front of him said it wasn’t so.

His heart pounded, pulsed in rhythm to the horse’s thrumming hooves. Fear made his chest feel tight and his breath came in short, ragged gasps. The last rise loomed ahead. He crested the hill, looked down on the clearing, and his fears were instantly confirmed.

Adrian savagely cursed. Above the thunder of Minotaur’s hooves and deep straining breaths, he could hear the terror in the women’s shrill cries for help. As the trail angled downward, he spotted them clustered with the servants. He could see the huge black boar, its vicious tusks glinting in the sun, frothy blood oozing from the ball it had taken in its chest.

Adrian’s gaze swung toward the women, unconsciously searching for the countess. When he finally saw her, his chest went so tight he could barely breathe. She was standing away from the others, on the opposite side of the boar, backed into an outcropping of boulders, her slender shoulders pressed against the trunk of a tree. She clutched a dry pine branch in her trembling hands and another woman, Lady Ellen Hargrave, a diplomat’s daughter, wept frantically in the dirt at her feet.

Adrian’s heart constricted. God’s blood, the beast was set to kill them! He rode the horse flat out, coming as near to the boar as he dared, drew hard on the reins and swung down from the saddle before Minotaur had come to a sliding halt. With so many people scattered about, he didn’t dare risk a shot. Even should the wound be fatal, the ball might ricochet off a bone and kill someone. He tossed the useless musket away and jerked the pistol from his breeches as he quickly made his way across the clearing.

“Colonel!” one of the women shrieked. “Oh, thank God you’ve come!” Several women started crying, but Adrian ignored them.

“I want you ladies to stay very calm. Just quietly back away.”

“But the countess!”

“I’ll see to the countess. Do as I say.” They started easing backward and the boar caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. It viciously pawed the ground, flinging dirt beneath its sharp hooves, its small eyes fixed on the countess and Lady Ellen. Grunting, it began to fling its head, then took several threatening steps toward Elissa, trapped just a few feet away. Her makeshift weapon came up, but her face was as gray as the granite boulders behind her.

Her eyes searched him out. Fear was there and a look of such hope that a knot tightened in his stomach. “Don’t be afraid, my lady. I’m not going to let him hurt you.” But damn, it was impossible to shoot with the women in his line of fire.

He tried to work around to the side, looking for an opening, his heart almost beating its way out of his chest. He was almost there, would have made it if the woman on the ground hadn’t panicked. The boar made a fierce, grunting squeal, and Lady Ellen shot to her feet, shrieking out in terror. Everything happened at once. The boar leapt forward. Adrian fired. Elissa screamed and swung her branch against the animal’s shoulder, then darted to the side, shoving Ellen out of the path of the charging beast. Adrian unsheathed his saber and stepped in front of her just as the huge beast whirled, quick for a creature its size.

He swung the saber in a deadly arc, taking the boar behind the neck, and it crashed to its knees, flinging its head widely. A jolt of pain tore through him and he realized one of its razor-sharp tusks had ripped through the flesh of his thigh.

“Adrian!” Seeing the eruption of blood, Elissa raced forward.

“Stay back!” he warned, hacking down once more, tearing into flesh and bone, slashing until the great beast lay dead at his feet. Blood covered his breeches and a scarlet arc stretched across the front of his white lawn shirt.

“Adrian.” It was a measure of her fear that she had used his first name. Elissa rushed toward him, flung herself against him, and he held her trembling body in the circle of his arms.

“You’re hurt,” she cried, tears streaming through the dirt on her cheeks, her plum velvet riding habit torn in several places and covered with mud and leaves. “Dear God, your leg—please, you must let me help you.”

He smiled at her softly, reached out to wipe the wetness from her face. “’Tis a scratch, nothing more. What matters is that you are safe.”

Her slender hands rested on his chest. “Because of you, we are safe. You risked yourself to save us.” Her pretty blue eyes scanned his face. She gave him a sweetly tentative smile. “Thank you, my lord.”

Adrian simply nodded. His leg was throbbing fiercely, pumping a steady stream of blood, but all he could think of was the way his name had sounded on her lips. She eased away from him, and reluctantly he let her go.

“Come,” she gently instructed, taking charge as the women and servants rushed forward, the sound of their voices topped only by the pounding hoofbeats of the hunters returning to camp. “You must let me see to your leg.”

He let her help him over to a tree stump, her slim arm beneath his shoulder though he could have easily made the journey on his own. She glanced down at his leg, saw that his breeches had been ripped open nearly to his groin and a goodly portion of his thigh was exposed. Her cheeks went from pale to rosy and her eyes swung up to his face.

“Th-that must be very painful.”

He nodded. “Some. It needs to be cleaned and bandaged.” Reaching down, he grabbed a handful of cloth and ripped an even longer gap in his breeches, exposing his leg to the knee.

The countess’s hand flew up to the base of her throat. “Oh, my.” Her eyes ran over the muscles and tendons that flexed each time he moved, and Adrian chuckled softly, surprised as he always was by her seeming naïveté.

“My dear countess. Major St. Giles is arrived back in camp. He has seen to my wounds any number of times and is far more accustomed to this sort of thing than you are. I appreciate your offer of assistance, but even should I accept, it would only be frowned on by the ladies. Perhaps it would be better if you saw to the supplies the major will be needing—something to use for bandages, some water, a needle and thread, if you can find them. And fetch me a decanter of brandy—we shall need it to cleanse the wound.”

To say nothing of the hefty draft he meant to take for himself. The damnable leg was starting to hurt like bloody blazes.

The countess nodded, but still did not move, just stood there staring at his leg. Then her head jerked up, and bright color flooded her cheeks. “Of—of course, my lord. I shall see it done immediately.”

Smiling, Adrian watched her leave, thinking that no matter what she said, her aging husband must have done a very poor job of seeing to her wifely education.

Jamie strode up just then, a worried look etched into his face. He frowned down at the hole gouged in Adrian’s leg. “I gather you were right about the general and his boar.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“It appears the women are safe—thanks to you—but at no small cost to yourself.”

“A wound of the flesh. Nothing serious.” He thought of Elissa’s courage as she faced the savage beast and couldn’t help feeling a surge of admiration. “The lady was quite something herself. A fierce little thing, quite brave considering a pine bough was her only weapon.”

Jamie smiled. “So I heard.”

Footsteps sounded. Elissa raced up, several servants in tow, and produced the items he had requested, setting them out neatly on what remained of a linen tablecloth she had torn into narrow white strips. “I brought what you asked for—bandages, water, brandy. Lady Ellen contributed a needle and some embroidery thread. You are certain you’ll be all right?”

He nodded. “There is always the chance of infection, but hopefully, I’ll be fine.” Jamie sloshed a huge portion of brandy over his leg and Adrian hissed in a breath, clamping down on the oath he muttered.

“I know this was not my fault and yet somehow I feel responsible. Is there anything I can do, anything at all?”

His eyes traveled leisurely over her appealing dishevel, appreciating her softly feminine curves. “You know there is.”

She colored prettily. “Surely you are not referring to your invitation for supper?”

“Exactly so.”

Elissa softly smiled. “It would seem, my lord Colonel, after the gallantry you have shown this day, I have no choice but to accept.”

Adrian smiled. “Tonight, my lady?”

“Tonight you need to rest. On the morrow, if your schedule permits, I shall be more than delighted to join you for supper.”

Adrian’s mouth curved up. He hadn’t thought to go quite so far to win an evening in the lady’s company, but all in all, it wasn’t a bad exchange. “Thank you, my lady.”

On the morrow he would see her, prove to her the attraction between them was real. Once he had done so, bedding her would be easy. Adrian could hardly wait.

*   *   *

Elissa turned once more in front of the cheval glass mirror, studying the sapphire blue taffeta gown trimmed with silver lace she had chosen for her dinner with the colonel. She shouldn’t have agreed to go, she knew. Her time here was limited and she had a job to do, but dear lord, he had been so brave!

She would never forget the fierce look on his face when he had stepped between her and the charging boar. There was no doubt he would have laid down his life before he would have let the animal reach her. Her heart had nearly stopped beating and then, when she had seen him covered in blood—she’d felt a sharp, squeezing pain inside her chest.

Elissa smoothed the front of the gown, a favorite among those Gaby had provided. It set off the blue of her eyes, her friend had said, and the low, square neckline emphasized the swells of her bosom. She had worn it only once, had intended to save it to impress General Steigler.

Elissa’s mouth thinned at the thought. Steigler. It was he who had wounded the boar. The general had given no thought to the women back in camp. He’d cared only for his enjoyment in making the kill. And the fact that Colonel Kingsland had risked himself to save them had only gained Steigler’s ire. He didn’t like being made to look the fool, and though Adrian hadn’t done it on purpose, his heroic dispatch of the boar had certainly accomplished the task.

Adrian. She thought of him that way now. She had tried so hard not to and yet it had happened. She was drawn to him more every day though it was obvious their attraction could lead nowhere. Elissa was committed to finding the Falcon, and even if she weren’t, the colonel wasn’t interested in marriage. Not that she was interested in marrying him, of course. Life with an arrogant, domineering man like Wolvermont would probably be unbearable.

Elissa sighed as she drew her long white gloves up over her elbows. She shouldn’t have agreed to go tonight, yet she meant to enjoy herself. Life was precious. She was involved in a dangerous business and she wasn’t sure where it might end. She would take these few moments for herself. With a last glance in the mirror, she picked up her silver-trimmed sapphire taffeta reticule and headed for the door.

He was waiting at the foot of the stairs, taller than most of the men in the villa, black boots polished to a mirror sheen, gold epaulettes gleaming on the shoulders of his scarlet uniform coat. It took her breath away just to look at him.

“Good evening, my lord.”

He smiled and reached for her hand, bent over it and pressed a soft kiss on the back. “I liked it better when you called me Adrian. Do you think you might manage that, at least for tonight?”

“Perhaps I could … Adrian.”

His smile grew broader, and dimples appeared in his cheeks. He took her hand and they left the villa, descending the stairs to a carriage that waited out in front.

“Where are we going?” she asked, once they were settled inside and the carriage rolled over the cobblestone streets. A brass lamp burned on the wall inside, lighting the baron’s handsome features, and it occurred to her the freedom a young widow possessed was definitely a thing to be envied.

“There is a restaurant near the center of the city, a favorite of the emperor. The food is supposed to be excellent. I trust you are hungry.”

“Ravenous.”

His eyes darkened for a moment, then he smiled. “As I have been of late, though food has been the farthest thought from my mind.”

Elissa sat up straighter on the bench, her lips parting, ready to demand he take her home, but Adrian caught her hand.

“A jest, my lady. I am sorry if I offended. You are safe with me this night. I give you my word.”

She relaxed against the seat. She trusted the colonel to keep his promise. He made no secret of his desire for her and yet she knew without doubt he would not take what she was unwilling to give.

“How is your leg this eve?” she asked. “I noticed you favored it only a little as we walked to the carriage.”

“I told you ’twas only a scratch.”

“A ‘scratch’ you would not have taken if it hadn’t been for Steigler’s thoughtlessness.”

“True. With the camp so near, he should not have taken the shot.” He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but decided against it. Elissa wondered what it might have been.

Watching the baron from beneath her lashes, she found herself comparing the two very different men. The colonel was demanding but he would never force her. She wasn’t sure about Steigler. She knew what the general wanted, and that by pretending an interest in him, she was taking a serious risk. Unlike Wolvermont, should the circumstance arise, she feared General Steigler would not hesitate to take what he wanted.

Elissa shivered in the darkness of the carriage.

“You’re cold,” said the colonel, reaching for the lap robe that rode on the seat at his side.

“No, I—I’m fine, my lord, truly.”

Still, he unfolded the robe and draped it over her lap, determined in this as he was in everything else. “Adrian,” he corrected softly.

Elissa smiled, oddly comforted by the gesture. “Adrian,” she said, and for her acquiescence got another of his charming dimpled smiles.

Supper turned out to be an elegant affair, served in one of the small private dining rooms above an inn called the Am Spitz. The building had once been a fashionable residence on the square, the doors richly carved and gilded, its windows hung with the finest Belgian tapestries. Even the elegant furnishings remained: carved Japan tables, chairs upholstered in velvet and trimmed in fine gold lace.

They dined on Schnitzel cordon bleu, a veal dish stuffed with ham and cheese, and trout mullerin, fried in butter. A Leberknödel soup was served, a meaty broth with liver dumplings, along with an array of sweetmeats and delicacies.

Conversation was matter-of-fact at first, the weather, the ball Empress Caroline would be holding at the end of next week.

“The guest list should be impressive,” the colonel said. “Metternich will be arriving the first of next week and apparently even the archduke is planning to attend.”

“This man Metternich … he seems to be quite an important figure.”

The baron nodded, took a sip of his dry white wine, the product of a vineyard on the outskirts of the city. “He’s one of the emperor’s closest advisors. There is every chance that Francis will appoint him minister of foreign affairs.”

Elissa sighed. “Austria seems determined to go to war. I should think after the losses they suffered at Austerlitz, they would not be so eager to face Bonaparte again.”

“The Austrians are tired of French rule,” Wolvermont told her. “Their army has never been stronger. Archduke Charles is ready to face Napoleon. It is only a matter of time before the alliance is official.”

Elissa started to say something else, but the colonel caught her hand. “Must we speak only of war?” He smiled. “I thought ladies were supposed to find the subject boring.”

“How can a subject that could mean the lives of thousands of young men possibly be boring?” And yet for him it must be a subject he grew weary of discussing. She relaxed against her chair and smiled at him softly. “But you’re right, Colonel Kingsland. There is enough talk of war during the day. We should leave such talk behind us at least for the balance of the evening.”

He lifted her hand and brought her fingers to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the tips. A curl of warmth slid into Elissa’s stomach.

“Thank you, my lady.” He ordered Sachertorte, for dessert, a rich chocolate cake, and cups of thick black Austrian coffee. Throughout the meal, Elissa had merely picked at her food. It was difficult to eat with the colonel’s fierce green eyes on her, as if she were a far more delicious dessert than the one placed in front of him.

The table was cleared and the door closed, leaving them alone in the private dining room, yet they remained in their seats, sipping anise-flavored cordials.

“I’ve been remiss in my duties,” he said with a smile just for her. “I have not told you how exquisite you look tonight.” He sat closer to her now so that when he leaned forward his face was only inches from hers.

“Thank you,” she whispered, suddenly a little bit breathless. She saw him lean forward but didn’t move away, just closed her eyes and waited for his mouth to settle over hers. He fit them perfectly together, soft yet firm, warm, moist, and incredibly exciting. He cupped her face with his hand and kissed her more deeply, running his tongue across her bottom lip, coaxing her to open for him. She did so without hesitation, wanting to feel again the hot sensations that she had felt before.

His tongue swept in and heat seemed to melt through her body. She barely heard the clatter of his chair sliding backward as he stood up, pulling her up with him, felt only the warmth of his scarlet wool coat and the beating of his heart beneath her hand.

“Elissa…” He tightened his hold around her, taking her mouth again, the kiss no longer gentle but fiercely possessive and sweeping her up in its wake. He kissed the side of her neck, pulled the lobe of her ear into his mouth and suckled gently, kissed the line of her jaw, then took her mouth again. His tongue thrust deeply and the warmth in her stomach radiated out to her limbs. She felt as if she were drowning, sucked into a spinning pool that drew her into its core.

“Adrian,” she whispered, feeling the muscles of his chest flexing as her arms slid around his neck, his arousal pressing against her, thick and hot and determined. He kissed her throat and moved lower, bent his dark head and kissed the tops of her breasts. He slid the gown off one shoulder, giving him better access, and pressed his damp mouth against her thin white cotton chemise where it covered her nipple. His warm breath fanned her skin as he took the hard tip between his teeth.

“Adrian, oh, dear God…” She was losing control, she saw with a shot of panic. She should have stopped him before he had gone this far. Now it took her full strength of will to pull herself away. She pressed her trembling hands against his chest, and tried to shove him away.

“Adrian, please … I beg you. We must stop this at once. We cannot … we cannot possibly go on.”

He gently bit the side of her neck. “Let me make love to you. It’s what we both want. I can give you incredible pleasure. Let me show you how good it can be between us.”

“No!” She shoved at his chest, but he held her fast. “Please, Adrian, we cannot do this.”

He nibbled the lobe of an ear. “Why not? I’ve taken a room here at the inn. No one will know but the two of us.”

She shook her head, her panic beginning to build. She should have known better than to come. A man like the colonel was not one to trifle with.

“You gave me your word,” she said, fear replacing the desire she had felt just moments ago. “You said that I would be safe.”

The colonel’s face went hard and his tall frame grew rigid. His eyes bored into her even as he began to draw away. “You wanted me. Do not lie to yourself.”

“It … it isn’t a matter of wanting.” She stared down at the table, embarrassed and shy all at once. “I’m sorry if I misled you. I—I truly did not mean to. Please … won’t you just take me home?”

He studied her face, saw the way her bottom lip had started to tremble, and his anger slid away. “You’re frightened. I can see it in your face. You’ve been with no other man but your husband. You’ve taken no lover since his death and you are afraid.”

She glanced away, shaken still, uncertain how to respond. The best lies, she knew, were the ones that were closest to the truth. “No … there hasn’t been anyone but my husband.” She wished she didn’t have to lie to him at all.

The tension drained from his body. He bent and pressed a feather-sort kiss on her lips. “I’m sorry I scared you. I didn’t realize … I promise you it won’t happen again.” He smiled that charming smile of his. “The next time we’ll go more slowly.”

The next time? Sweet God, there couldn’t be a next time. She said nothing as he pulled her cloak from the hook on the door, nothing as he swirled it around her shoulders and drew up the hood. They spoke only briefly during the carriage ride back to the villa. In the marble-floored entry, a servant dispensed with their wraps, and Adrian bowed over her hand.

“Thank you for a very pleasant evening, my lady. Perhaps supper again on the morrow—”

“No! I—I mean, thank you, my lord, but I have plans for the morrow. I trust your leg will continue to heal and that your duties will go well. Good night, my lord.”

The colonel said nothing more, just stood staring at her as she retreated up the stairs. In her room, she walked straight to the bellpull, summoned Sophie, and hurriedly removed her clothes. After changing into a night rail, she climbed up in the big four-poster bed.

“Will there be anything else, my lady? You look a little pale. Perhaps a glass of warm milk?”

“No, thank you, Sophie. I just need to get some rest.”

The dark-haired girl just nodded. “As you wish, my lady.” She pulled the blue silk bed hangings closed, left the bedchamber, and quietly closed the door.

Cocooned in darkness, Elissa stared up at the canopy. Her mouth still burned from Adrian’s kisses. Her breasts felt swollen and tender from his touch. She shifted restlessly on the mattress, trying to ignore the odd, warm tingling that throbbed between her legs.

You wanted me. Don’t lie to yourself. She had never known desire before. She didn’t doubt she knew it now. Elissa took a long, shivery breath. The colonel was right—she was afraid. As he had once said, mostly she was afraid of herself.