Chapter Six

Adrian stepped through the doors of the Pagoda Room, an intimate drawing room reserved exclusively for the duchess’s use. He was there in answer to a summons he had received that afternoon. He wondered why the woman wished to see him.

He saw her seated in the corner, a stout, robust figure dressed in a soft dove gray gown that brought out the silver in her once-blond hair. Adrian crossed the room in that direction, his bootsteps muffled by the Oriental carpet. Compared to other rooms in the house, which were mostly rococo in design, this room was filled with furniture and art from Asia: intricate japanned bowls and vases, spectacular ivory carvings, and tall teakwood screens inlaid with mother-of-pearl.

He approached the duchess where she sat waiting in a high-backed chair and made a formal bow.

“Your Grace, you wished to see me?”

She sat up a little straighter, cocked her head in a manner that made her appear to be looking down her nose. “Good afternoon, Wolvermont. I trust you are enjoying your stay at Blauenhaus.”

He smiled slightly, took the seat to which she motioned across from her. “Your home is quite lovely, Your Grace. Certainly it is an improvement on the tent I was sleeping in when I first arrived in Vienna.”

“And your leg? How is it healing?” She motioned for a servant to bring him a cup of coffee, and a lovely porcelain cup and saucer steaming with the rich, dark brew was placed in front of him on a low black lacquer table.

“Quite well, thank you.”

“We all appreciate your heroics in saving Lady Ellen and the countess. God only knows what might have happened had you not arrived when you did.”

“I am sorry the ladies were put into that sort of danger.”

“Yes, well, as one gets older, one learns to accept that those things happen.” She took a sip of her coffee, eyeing him over the rim, then returned the cup to its saucer. “Your General Ravenscroft speaks very highly of you, Colonel. I thought you might be interested to know.”

A dark brow arched up. “I’m flattered, Your Grace, that you have seen fit to ask about me. I wonder, however, why you have developed such an interest.”

“I am interested in you, my lord, because you have taken a more-than-casual interest in my friend Lady von Langen. Ravenscroft was generous in his praise of you. He was also quite blunt about your prowess with members of the opposite sex. It seems your appetites, Colonel Kingsland, are quite renowned.”

Adrian took a sip of his coffee, inhaling the robust fragrance. “A man has needs, Your Grace. But if that is your concern, I am not a man to force his attentions on a lady who is unwilling.”

The duchess gave him a long, appraising glance. “She is young, my lord. I realize she seems perfectly sophisticated and quite sure of herself, but I can assure you she is not up to a man like you. I ask you to keep that in mind should you continue in your pursuit of her.”

“As I said, I am not one to press my attentions where they are not wanted. Perhaps you would do better to have this conversation with General Steigler. He seems to garner far more time with the lady than I do, and I daresay, when it comes to women, he is not shy in taking what he wants.”

The duchess said nothing. Steigler’s reputation was not commonly known, but the duchess showed no surprise at the news. Apparently General Steigler had also been under the woman’s scrutiny.

“I shall keep that in mind, Colonel Kingsland.”

Adrian set his coffee cup down in the saucer and came to his feet. “If that is all, Your Grace…”

She eyed him up and down once more, as if she were taking his measure. “You like her, don’t you?”

His mouth curved faintly. “Yes, I do.”

She nodded. “Then perhaps between the two of us we can see that she is kept safe.”

Adrian said nothing to that, but his mind churned with possibilities. So the duchess was worried about Elissa. She was a shrewd older woman, not known to give her affections lightly. It spoke well of Elissa that she had earned a place in the old girl’s heart.

Still, he wondered at her concern. The Countess von Langen was a full-grown woman, a widow out of mourning with all of the freedoms that entailed. Among the aristocracy, a blind eye was turned on such a lady’s indiscretions. If Elissa wished to have an affair, it was no one’s business but her own.

Adrian took his leave of the Pagoda Room thinking of Elissa and the night they had supped together at the inn. He had enjoyed the evening even though he hadn’t got what he wanted—the lady naked and willing in his bed. Damnation! He wanted to see her again, but the stubborn minx refused every overture he made.

Still, she must have some feelings for him or the duchess wouldn’t have requested a meeting. He thought of what Her Grace had said about keeping Elissa safe and knew that he would indeed keep an eye on her.

In doing so, perhaps he would discover the real reason she refused him admittance to her bed.

*   *   *

Elissa spent the late morning hours in her room, waiting for the guests to depart for their daily rounds of business, or pleasure, or whatever they might do to entertain themselves. As for her, she was tired of talking, trying to coax information from Pettigru and Steigler when none seemed to be forthcoming.

Today she meant to take action.

Dressed in a simple day dress of dark green kerseymere, she opened her door and glanced around, checking to be sure no one was there. The hall was deserted. The ambassador’s room, she had discovered, was ten doors closer to the staircase on the opposite side of the hall. Elissa headed in that direction. She wasn’t sure what she might find, or even what it was she was looking for. She only knew she had to do something to unmask the Falcon.

Perhaps she would find a clue in the ambassador’s room.

With a last glance around, she headed down the hall, quickly slipped inside the room, and quietly closed the door. Trembling, she leaned against it for support. She knew that he would be gone. She had seen him breaking his fast earlier that morning, a light repast of coffee, fresh fruit, and strudel.

Still, she didn’t know his schedule, had no idea when he might return, and there was his valet to consider. The servant might show up at any time.

With that in mind, Elissa made her way to his velvet-draped bed, pulled open the drawers in the nightstand beside it, made a quick search that uncovered a book of William Blake poems and a pair of reading glasses, then moved on.

A search of his dresser revealed nothing except that there were holes in the ambassador’s woolen drawers. She remembered a remark he had made about missing the tender care his wife had taken of him, and understood now what he had meant.

She carefully sifted through the items in the tall rosewood armoire in the corner, searched the trunk at the foot of his bed, and finally the small portable writing desk that sat atop it.

Nothing of interest. Nothing that might connect him with the man they called the Falcon. Only his position as ambassador, which allowed him access to so many of the country’s vital secrets, kept her from crossing him off her brother’s list as a possible suspect.

She wondered if Karl had known something about him she did not.

Elissa made a last sweep of the room, checking to see that everything was left in the same order she had found it, though the ambassador wasn’t the sort to keep much track. She carefully opened the door, glanced right and then left—gasped and quickly shut the door.

Sweet God, Adrian was coming down the hall, heading toward his room at the opposite end! She prayed that he hadn’t seen her. She counted to ten, then began to count again. The third time she counted to twenty. Surely he would be gone by now, around the corner out of sight.

Taking a deep, courage-building breath, she eased open the door a crack and glanced down the hall to be sure he was gone. Her sigh of relief turned into a squeak of surprise at the sound of his deep male voice.

“I’m afraid the ambassador has not yet returned … but then I can see you know that already.”

“A-Adrian!”

“Ah, so now you use my name. Curious how it only seems to occur to you when you are in some sort of peril.”

“Peril?” Her chin went up. “I am hardly in peril. I was simply … simply…”

“Yes…?”

“If you must know, I had a message for the ambassador of a rather personal nature. I left it on his bureau. I hardly think he would find that disturbing.”

“A note, is it? Why don’t we see?”

She gasped as he roughly caught her arm, opened the door, and pushed her in. “Where is this note you have left?”

Her chest squeezed tight. “All right, I—I didn’t leave a note. I was going to, but I … I found his inkwell empty, and the more I thought about it the more I realized it wasn’t a good idea. I started to leave, but I saw you coming down the hall. I was embarrassed, so I ducked back inside.”

Adrian watched as the countess chewed nervously on her lip. Turning, he walked over to the inkwell on the small portable writing desk on top of the ambassador’s trunk. There were sheets of foolscap inside, a quill pen and a shaker of sand, but the inkwell, as the lady had said, was dry.

He relaxed a little. “We had better get out of here before someone sees us. I doubt you would care to explain to someone else what you were doing in the ambassador’s bedchamber.”

She nodded. He noticed her hands were shaking. What the devil was going on? Was she planning some sort of tryst? Damn, but the woman was vexing. He could have sworn her interest in Pettigru had gone no further than friendship, but perhaps he had been mistaken.

Or was it something else?

He didn’t like the thought that crept into his mind. Pettigru and Steigler—two completely different men in every way. And yet they had one thing in common. Both men held positions of uncommon power. They had access to their country’s most intimate secrets.

He studied Elissa as they walked down the hall back toward her room. Surely it was simply coincidence. There were any number of important men currently in Vienna. Pettigru and Steigler were two of them without doubt, but that didn’t mean Elissa was after their secrets.

Still, he couldn’t shake the notion she was lying about why she had gone into the ambassador’s room.

“There is an opera tonight,” he said when they reached her door. “I want you to go with me.” It wasn’t a gentle invitation. It was pointedly direct. After the incident in the hall, she would want to appease him. If she had done something wrong, she would say yes.

“I—I’ve made other plans.”

Adrian arched a brow, but inside he was relieved. “Break them,” he said, pressing her a little bit harder.

Her glance strayed down the hall. “Yes…” she whispered. “I believe I can do that.”

Adrian’s stomach tightened. Was she really that frightened that someone would find out? He made a curt nod of his head. “I’ll be downstairs waiting at seven.” Turning, he walked away, heading toward his room as he had intended before he saw her.

By the time he reached the door, he had convinced himself he was wrong. She was merely leaving a message as she had said. Elissa was young and impetuous, not governed by propriety as much as some. He had preyed on her embarrassment and bullied her into accepting his escort, yet he couldn’t say he was sorry.

A reluctant smile pulled at his lips. What did it matter why she had agreed to go with him? He had been wanting to see her and now he had his wish. He would make sure she enjoyed the evening, and they would go on from there.

*   *   *

Elissa paced the floor at the foot of her bed. She had lied to General Steigler, told him she had forgotten a previous engagement and broke the date she had made to join him for supper. She had lied about who she was to everyone in Austria and to Adrian about being in Pettigru’s room.

The lies were getting thicker, deeper, the danger rising closer to the surface, and yet she had no choice.

She glanced at the clock on the marble mantel above the hearth, saw that it was already past the time she should have been downstairs. Though she had dreaded the evening with Steigler, the hours with the colonel might be far worse.

She hadn’t forgotten the dark look on his face when he had caught her in Pettigru’s room. She had agreed to accompany him in order to appease him. Now she nervously paced and worried at the mood she would find him in when she joined him downstairs.

A last glance at the clock and she dragged in a quick breath for courage, marched out the door and down the hall, took hold of the gilded wrought-iron railing and descended the wide marble staircase. The colonel turned at the sound of her footfalls, and at the sight of the smile on his face, her whole body relaxed. He wasn’t angry. Dear God, he had believed the lie she had told.

“Good evening, my lady.” He bowed over her hand and she found herself returning the smile he gave her. Perhaps the night wouldn’t be so bad after all. “My carriage awaits. Shall we go?”

She lowered her gaze. “As you wish, my lord.”

The opera house, a lovely four-story building of marble and granite, was exceedingly crowded, yet the colonel made his way unerringly through the mob, escorting her to a private box on the second floor.

“I’m glad you agreed to come,” he said as if he had actually given her a choice. “I hope you like opera as well as you like horses.”

Elissa smiled brightly, beginning to get caught up in the excitement. “Oh, I do! Living in the country, we rarely got to attend the opera.” She glanced down at the program she clutched in her hand, then back up at him through her lashes. “I am glad you asked me to come.”

Adrian smiled. “I should enjoy your company far more often, my lady, if you would but agree.”

Her own smile slipped a little. Adrian’s company was indeed preferable to Pettigru’s or Steigler’s, but it was they she must spend her time with.

“The music begins,” she said softly. “Perhaps we should take our seats.” They sat down in plush red velvet chairs. Taking her opera glasses from where they rested in her lap, she focused on the stage, then closed her eyes and gave herself over to the music, Spontini’s Vestale, first produced in Paris.

The evening passed swiftly. Adrian seemed to be enjoying himself as much as she was. When the opera ended they left the theater and stopped at a small cafe for coffee and rich chocolate pastries, then he settled her back inside the carriage. Instead of sitting across from her as he had done before, he took a seat beside her and pulled her into his arms.

A warm kiss followed, gentle yet insistent. “I have wanted to do that all evening.” Another warm kiss, deeper this time, his tongue gliding in, teasing the inside of her mouth, arousing her until she felt dizzy. She had to stop this before it went too far, yet she didn’t want to. Just a little while longer, she told herself, just a few more fiery kisses, and she would make it end.

She felt his lips against her jaw, felt the moisture of his tongue inside the rim of an ear, felt the hot pressure of his kisses along her shoulder. She didn’t realize he had unfastened her gown until he eased it down, lowered his head and settled his mouth over her breast.

Elissa made a startled little cry then her head fell back as a wave of pleasure swept through her. His tongue encircled her nipple and it instantly puckered and tightened, began a soft throbbing that seemed to settle down low in her stomach.

“Adrian,” she whispered, her fingers tangling in his thick, dark hair. “Dear God … Adrian.”

His attention shifted to her other breast and he began to suckle gently, his hands moving to the hem of her skirt, shoving it up, then sliding beneath the fabric and easing up her leg.

She had to stop him. Dear God, she wasn’t raised to behave like this. Her mother had never been overly strict or condemning, but she had raised her daughter to behave like a lady.

“Stop,” Elissa whispered frantically. “I beg you—please, Adrian. Please don’t go any farther.”

His head came away from her breast, but his hand did not move from the warm spot burning into her thigh. “Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me I’m not giving you pleasure.”

Tears welled in her eyes. She could not tell him another lie. “It doesn’t matter. I cannot do this. It isn’t right.” Tears spilled down her cheeks and Adrian cursed soundly.

“Good Christ, do not cry.” He jerked a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over, and she dabbed the embroidered W at the edge against her eyes. Wolvermont sighed. “You try my patience, Countess. The way you behave, one would think you an untried virgin.”

She blanched and pulled even farther away, determined to brazen things out. “You are the one who insisted I come. I have made it clear on more than one occasion that I do not wish to take you as my lover.”

He stiffened, his tall frame coming so erect he nearly bumped his head on the top of the carriage. “You are saving that honor for Pettigru, I presume … or perhaps General Steigler?”

The blood drained from her face, making her feel slightly dizzy. “No, I … I enjoy the gentlemen’s company. There is nothing wrong with that. And neither of them have behaved the least bit like you.”

His mouth curved faintly. “I am extremely happy to hear it.”

Elissa glanced away. “I’m sorry, my lord. I will not deny I feel a certain … attraction for you, but that is all it is.”

He assessed her dishevel, the sapphire taffeta gown ruched up past her knees, the bodice unbuttoned and clutched against her bosom. “I should hope, Lady von Langen, that you feel at least something for me … considering what we have been doing and your current state of undress.”

The blood rushed back into her cheeks. She hurriedly smoothed down her skirt, then reached behind her back to try and refasten the buttons.

“For pity’s sake, turn around.”

She flushed but did as he commanded, presenting her back so that he could reach where she could not. His big hands fumbled a bit, trying to slide the small pearls into the tiny loops.

“Having trouble?” she said a bit tartly. “I noticed you were quite adept at getting them undone.”

The baron merely grumbled. “Unfortunately, I am far better at getting them undone than I am at doing them up.”

Elissa ignored the remark. It bothered her to think that he did this with other women, that she meant no more to him than Lady Kainz or any other of his conquests.

It bothered her even more that she did not dare to see him again.

In the end, the confrontation she had feared with the colonel did not come. He was ordered back to his regiment on the outskirts of Vienna, and wouldn’t be returning for at least a couple of days.

Relief made her almost light-headed. She didn’t want to think about Adrian Kingsland. She didn’t want to deal with her unwelcome emotions. Instead, she spent her time with the ambassador, and as much time as she dared with General Steigler, probing his loyalties, trying to win his confidence.

Surprisingly, he didn’t press for her affections the way Adrian did. Unlike the volatile, passionate colonel, Steigler treated her as if she were a pretty moth he meant to capture, toying with her, letting her flit just out of his reach, all the while waiting with a net to trap her.

She thought there was a good chance he already had a mistress, that the woman cared for his needs and that bedding Elissa would merely be an interesting diversion. She had to become more than that if she intended to discover if he was the Falcon.

Elissa sank down on the tapestry stool in front of her gilded mirror and began to pull the silver-backed brush through her softly curling hair. She sighed into the empty room. The question loomed as it had before—how far was she willing to go to get what she had come for? Would she actually become Steigler’s mistress? And if she did, how would she explain her virginity? The thought of his hands on her body, touching her as Adrian had, made her slightly sick to her stomach.

Then an image of Karl rose up, laughing at something she had said, tugging on the long blond braid she had worn when she was a little girl. She remembered the time he had taken her fishing and she had fallen into the pond. Karl had jumped in to save her, but he couldn’t swim. He had wound up nearly drowned himself.

Karl was dead now. She would never hear him laughing again, never fish with him again, never know his teasing smile. She imagined him lying in a cold Vienna gutter, his blood running scarlet over the wet gray cobblestones. Tears burned her eyes and she blinked to keep them from falling.

When she thought of Karl, bedding Steigler seemed a small price to pay for catching the man behind his murder. Unfortunately, Steigler might not even be the one. There were three men on Karl’s list, she reminded herself. More and more, she was certain the ambassador wasn’t involved. Major Becker, the third name on the list, wasn’t, at present, anywhere near Vienna.

Steigler was right here in Baden. He had the means—and the disposition—to be an extremely accomplished spy, and though she had yet to discover a motive, he seemed most likely to be the one. A search of his room might aid her, if she could find some way into the emperor’s villa where he was staying.

Perhaps when she attended the ball.

The thought was most disquieting.

*   *   *

A drizzle fell over Vienna and the plains to the east of the city where the British regiment was encamped. Even the Danube, usually a crystalline blue where it cut through the rolling hills, had turned a dull, sluggish shade of brown. Heedless of the mud clinging to his boots, Adrian strode through the camp, saluting soldiers here and there as he passed among the men of the 3rd Dragoons.

Eventually he reached his destination, removed his tall, visored shako and tucked it beneath his arm, lifted the flap of a canvas tent slightly larger than the others, and walked in. General Ravenscroft, a tall man with muttonchop whiskers and iron gray hair, stood behind a table across the small enclosure, several charts and maps spread out in front of him.

“It’s good to see you, Colonel. I trust you are well.”

“Fine, thank you, General.”

“I understand you’ve been quite useful in Baden. I’m not surprised, but I am glad to hear it. Your background gives you an edge with these Austrians and we need all the help we can get.”

“So do they, it would seem, General Ravenscroft.”

“Quite so. As a matter of fact, that is why you are here. I wanted to give you an update on the way things are progressing and I wanted to do it in private. Lately there appears to have been a number of information leaks. As far as we know, it hasn’t been serious, yet it is somewhat disturbing. I should like very much to know how the information is getting out, but so far we haven’t a clue.”

Adrian frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that, General, not with Bonaparte breathing down our necks.”

“Exactly so.” He picked up a thin wooden pointer and leaned forward over the map. “Take a look at this, Colonel.” He used the stick to indicate an area north and west of Vienna. “This is where the archduke’s forces are beginning to assemble.” He moved the pointer farther west. “This is the direction we think Bonaparte will be coming from. We aren’t quite sure where he is at present, but his army is definitely on the move.”

“If that is the case, and the archduke intends to confront him, they’ll probably engage someplace along the Danube.”

The general nodded. “I would say that is highly likely. Vienna will be Bonaparte’s ultimate target and he will be set on that course.”

“Should the war progress as you suspect, what will our orders be?”

The general clasped his hands behind him. “We’ve only a thinly manned regiment at our disposal, since our mission here is strictly a diplomatic one. Officially, we will be ordered to remain uninvolved. On the other hand, should Vienna fall into any sort of danger, I’m sure we’ll be called upon to help evacuate the city.”

“I see.” He thought of Elissa immersed in the backlash of war, and a thread of uneasiness slid through him. Perhaps he could convince her to go home.

“That is one of the reasons I called you here, Colonel. As you well know, once plans for war are set into motion, things can progress rather quickly. There are any number of important people in Baden. As the time for confrontation draws near, someone opposed to the coalition might take it upon himself to do something to try and stop it. Keep your eyes open, Colonel.” He smiled. “And don’t let that pretty little countess you’ve been wooing get into the line of fire.”

Adrian smiled dryly. Ravenscroft, like the duchess, always seemed to know what was going on. “I shall endeavor to do that, General.”

He nodded. “Tonight a dinner is being held in our honor at the Belevedere Palace. I shall expect to see you there.” A steel gray brow arched up. “Perhaps you will enjoy seeing an old friend of yours … Lady Kainz? I gather she will be in attendance.”

Adrian said nothing, just gave him another dry smile followed by a sharp salute. As he turned to leave the tent, it occurred to him the last thing he wanted to do was attend a dinner party with Cecily Kainz. Knowing what she would expect, and as badly as he needed a woman, he knew he would not take her.

The lady he wanted slept in Baden this night.