Love Me Again (3 page)

It was hard for her to see Robert in this light as she had never experienced that side of him. That is not to say that she had not noticed the coolness between the brothers. She would have to be blind not to notice it. But she had never seen any more in it than a typical sibling rivalry. After all, it was in every family she had ever grown up around, especially in the ranks of the upper nobility. Ambition was expected of the younger sons, and at some level resentment was to be expected. However, she had never detected any animosity between them.

So, what was Edward
not
telling her?

“You still love him very much, don't you?”

Surprised by this sudden question, Christina didn't even pretend to misunderstand his meaning. Closing her eyes, she pondered how much she could expose of herself and decided that to this man who had already proved his faith in her, she would tell him anything he needed to know. So, for the first time in years, she spoke of Varek with an honesty that was almost a relief. “I know that I will never love another as much as I loved Varek. He is with me always on some level. When I look at the stars, when I drink a fine wine, every time I look at Eddie ... He is in the trees, and the flowers, in the snow, in firelight. Simply, he is a part of me.” She gave a prosaic shrug as if telling herself it wasn't such a big thing anymore, this loss of her other half. “He is my greatest weakness.”

“A love like that can never be a weakness, my dear. It is a miracle and not to be taken lightly.” His understanding raked her emotions. She was the wife of his only brother. How could he possibly be so compassionate after her confession?

“Oh, please, Edward, don't do this to me. It has been years since I have ached this much. You must believe me when I say I am happy here.”

Edward stared at her for a long moment. “And what will happen if you see him again in Vienna?”

Pulling away from him, Christina stood up. “Who is to say we will meet again?”

Edward sighed, exasperation clearly written on his face. Abruptly, he asked, “Tell me true, Christina, what do you feel for my brother?”

She glanced sharply at him, not liking where this was taking them. “What kind of question is that?”

“Stop hedging and tell me true.”

“I love Robert.” There was no hesitation in her reply.

And you, my darling, are lying through your teeth and you don't even know it!
Edward thought unhappily. After a moment, he offered hesitantly, not sure he wanted to do this, “I could write to Castlereagh. I am sure I could persuade him to rescind his request that you accompany the suite to Vienna as a hostess.”

Christina felt a flash of relief; then shame quickly swamped her. This appointment as attaché to Castlereagh meant so much to Robert. If she refused to assist him would he think that she was trying to impede his chances for advancement? He was such a proud man, always chafing under the stigma of being the younger brother of the Duke of Kerkston, a man who was a very respected peer with society. Any advancement Robert made on his own he considered a leap toward his independence from Edward. Could she in all conscience deny her help to Robert, a man who had given her a son she adored and a life of serenity?

Perhaps it was time to tell him the truth about her past. But even as this thought nudged her, she cringed, though in all honesty she couldn't figure out why. What was so wrong with Robert knowing?

She rubbed her temple and thought long and deep, and knew irrevocably that if she ever met Varek again, her whole life would be disrupted in the blink of an eye. Just the thought of coming face-to-face with Varek terrified her. After all these years of painful healing could she survive a confrontation with her lost love?

She was startled to realize that she was holding her breath. Heaven help her, if just thinking about meeting him did this to her, what would the reality of it do to her?

Feeling the worst sort of coward, she slowly turned to look at Edward. The words almost choked her as she whispered, “Write to Castlereagh. Ask him if he would kindly excuse me from attending.” Then before she could call back the words, she fled, years of shattered dreams nipping at her heels.

Edward watched till she disappeared; then he turned to look out over the lake. He wondered if settling for the life she now had was ever going to be enough for Christina. He was not long for this world; he had resigned himself to that fact long ago. So, when he was gone what would happen to her? What would happen to her when Eddie was grown and gone? She would be so alone, for Robert would always be involved in his own selfish pleasures and ambitions. Edward couldn't stand the thought of Christina existing in a form of limbo, patiently awaiting the end of her life, convinced she was content with the lot that fate had demanded of her. How could he allow that when her soul mate was still alive and waiting for her? She deserved her one true love, for if anyone had been born to love, it was Christina.

And sadly, he knew that he would never be lucky enough to be so blessed.

Ever since that long ago day when Robert had brought Christina to Kerkmoor, he had secretly loved her. She had been so lost and alone; thin, pale and uncaring of what happened to her. Year by year, he watched Christina struggle to heal herself, dogged in her determination to thank Robert and himself for her new life. As she had turned Kerkmoor into a sanctuary she became obsessed with never leaving, even for short journeys about the countryside. Yet, even as he doubted that she would ever find happiness again, Edward had to admit that Christina was good for Robert. With Christina he was a different man; more mature and kinder of nature than ever before. If Robert was capable of truly loving anyone, he loved Christina, and even though Robert had participated to some degree in Christina's rehabilitation, he was still totally unaware of the private hell his wife had gone through to get to this tenuous place in her life.

The worst period had been while she was pregnant, living day in and day out with her resigned dread of the inevitable miscarriage. Both he and Sergei had thought they had lost her the day she gave birth to Eddie, and both were thankful that Robert had been in London at the time. When she had given birth to her healthy son, Christina had been hysterical in a way that he hoped never to see again. They had made certain that there was a constant vigil at her bedside, fearful that she might try to take her life. Even Sergei had cried that night, cursing God and fate and the devil all in the same breath. It seemed that the only one glad to see the tiny new St. Pole into the world was his uncle. However, when the baby was finally placed into her arms, Christina had never cried again, and her son became her one reason for living, and living joyously. It was only for him that she had finally found the strength to put her past behind her and move on to a future that was bright with promise.

Edward clenched his fists. Was she truly happy in her life here? He knew only too well that contentment did not necessarily mean happiness, and God curse him, he only wanted to see her happy. No matter what the cost.

What the hell should he do?

With a curse, he spun his chair around and started to wheel himself toward home, ignoring the footmen who ran to his aid. During the laborious journey back to the manor he made his decision. He would not write to Castlereagh. He would come up with some story to tell Christina.

“Damn you, von Vischering,” he muttered between clenched teeth, “you had bloody well better be the man I believe you to be. I am giving you this one chance. Only one before I bring her back here to safety.”

Ignoring the pangs of conscience plaguing him about betraying his only brother, Edward held steadfast in this last task he had set himself before death finally found him.

Vienna

October 18, 1814

The air was stifling yet sweet scented, as thousands of expensive tapers cast a romantic glow over the shimmering ballroom. All was pristine and a delight to the eye, the classical colonnaded pavilion built especially for this important gala. And as the gentle strains of Mozart's waltz floated through the marble halls, eighteen hundred of the elite of European aristocracy and diplomatic corps shifted along in congenial fluidity, jewels and medals proclaiming their rank and wealth. Yet Christina saw none of the opulent beauty around her. Her heart was bleeding for her oldest and dearest friend, Laure.

Together they stood in a secluded alcove behind some palms, desperate for a respite from the onerous tasks of hostessing. The princess looked tired and tense, and following the direction of her gaze, Christina knew she would see Laure's husband, the great, manipulative, unfaithful Prince Metternich. The base cad! How could he do this to his gentle wife? How could he so publicly humiliate her? Didn't he care that he was making himself the laughingstock of the Congress? Christina's lips thinned in ire as she watched the way his stricken, puppy-dog eyes followed his former lover as she dallied shamelessly with her current amour.

“He is behaving like a fool! Has he no pride? If not for himself, then at least for you!” Christina hissed in outrage as she turned to the princess.

Laure looked away from her husband. Blinking back her rush of tears, she gave Christina a weak smile and shrugged. “He loves her,” she stated simply.

“Why do you defend him, Laure? This isn't his first affair and it won't be his last!”

“I love him, Christina. Despite his wandering ways he is good to the children and me. I never thought I could compete with the beauties that vie for his attention. I am content with what he does give me.”

Christina sighed in disgust. True, Laure was not and never had been cited for any claim to beauty, but she was probably the most generous and loving person Christina had ever met. They had known each other as children and the years spent apart had only strengthened their affection for each other. It just made her want to go over to that selfish man and box his ears till they rang. But would that help? A man as shallow as Metternich would never be able to appreciate the jewel he had in his own wife. Only beauty was of any apparent worth to his kind.

“He is letting this ridiculous affair affect his duties.”

Laure shook her head with adamant refute. “No, Clemens allows nothing to interfere with his duties to the Emperor. He devotes every waking minute to this Congress. He will not fail the Empire.”

Christina glanced cynically at the prince's pale countenance, exhaustion weighing down his usually handsome features. Christina had heard the same rumors that everyone else was sniggering about. Most of his waking hours lately were spent in pouring out his tortured soul in endless letters to a heartless lover who had tossed him aside for another. Yet as worn as he appeared, Metternich moved with a restless energy as he gracefully performed his duties on this most important occasion of the Congress: The Peace Ball, celebrating the first anniversary of Napoleon's defeat in the Battle of Leipzig and the turning point of the Corsican's fall. Christina watched as he paused to chat amicably with the Crown Prince of Württemburg. He was not even trying to conceal the fact that his gaze constantly shifted to Wilhelmina, Duchess of Sagan. And that fickle lady, knowing her past lover was studying her every move, seemed to take even more pleasure in her flirtation with her dashing new lover.

Concerned for Laure, Christina turned away in disgust. “Still, he should be more circumspect.”

Laure turned to her friend. “I have long ago accepted this weakness of his. Clemens may wander, but he always comes back to his family. And I am content to wait.”

The gentle comment was like a slap in the face. Christina's face bled white and became rigid with past pain. Should she have been so noble and self-sacrificing when she had the choice all those years ago? Should she have waited patiently by Varek's side as he, did what? Turn her into his mistress? Could she have waited patiently each night while wondering if he would come to her or perform his duty on his wife? And when would she have learned to hate herself as she callously prayed for the death of an innocent pawn, just so she could have her life back?

No, never could she have stood by and watched as their magical love deteriorated into a pitiful sideshow for all to mock. Christina started when she felt Laure's hand on her back.

“Forgive me, my dear. That was not well done of me.”

Christina gave a stilted shake of her head. Her heart was pounding so hard she barely heard Laure's whispered words. A feeling of urgency was building in her hour by stressful hour as she wondered if she would see Varek while in Vienna.

Suddenly, Christina wanted to find a dark corner to huddle into and cry. How pathetic of her. It was just that she was tired from all the traveling, she assured herself. And being in Vienna again ... Christina closed her eyes for an instant. This city was bringing back memories she had struggled for years to suppress. Yet, with every familiar face she saw, every well-known landmark she passed, they began to rise like a phoenix from the ashes, and each remembrance chipped away at another crack in her shell. Even now, any shift in the heavy air about her made her catch her breath as she detected an essence that teased her with the unforgettable scent of
him.

“I'm so sorry,” she heard Laure whisper close at her side. Poor Laure; as if she didn't have enough to worry about, now in her own maudlin self-pity she was adding to her friend's distress.

Forcing a smile, Christina took a deep breath as she quickly touched her kerchief to her eyes before turning back around. “Lud, Laure, don't be such a goose.” However, her brave mask cracked under Laure's grave regard. “It's all in the past,” she murmured, praying with all her heart that it stayed so.

Laure bit her lip. How very cruel of her to even allude to Christina's tragic past. Almost desperately the princess looked about her, praying to find something, anything, to distract her friend's painful thoughts. Laure almost laughed out in relief when her attention was caught.

“Well, look there! A most ardent admirer bearing shamelessly down upon you, Christina.” Laure winced at the desperation she heard in her own voice as she attempted to tease her friend. “I vow, isn't he a most handsome one at that!” Then her smile became quite genuine as she watched the object of her deliverance wend his way through the assemblage toward them. “Excuse me, my dear, but I had best see to my duties in this crush. Lord, I shall be happy when this day is done,” Laure sighed wearily. Then with a swish of silken skirts she was gone, giving Christina's husband, Robert, a friendly tap on his cheek with a gloved finger as they passed each other.