Rebecca Hagan Lee (51 page)

Even Blake found it hard to believe that only six months earlier he had witnessed the destruction of Willow Wood and had impatiently endured the funeral of a woman he had married but had never truly loved. It seemed a million years ago. Another lifetime ago. He ran his long, lean fingers through his unruly hair and smiled crookedly, recalling the outraged whispers and the raised eyebrows of his associates when he married Cristina barely three weeks after the funeral.

Well, he thought, there would be a few more raised eyebrows and more gossip for the grist mill when Bethany's announcement appeared in the newspapers.

Strange that he didn't mind a few raised eyebrows these days.

"What are you smiling about?"

Blake came back from his reverie and found Cristina studying him with an interested sparkle in her emerald eyes.

"I was just remembering my ride across London after Meredith's funeral. How my abrupt departure scandalized the mourners. And how glad I was to see you and how angry I was with you for leaving the safety of New York."

Cristina's answering smile was slowly sensuous as she also recalled their reunion. "You have an interesting way of showing your anger, milord."

"You have an interesting way of arousing it," Blake replied meaningfully.

"Uh-hmm ..." Nigel cleared his throat, pointedly reminding them they were not alone. "I think I'll go downstairs and celebrate little Bethany's birthday with the rest of the family. The atmosphere up here is positively indecent,"

Nigel teased. "I would never guess the two of you have been married six whole months." He smiled at the three of them and exited without another word.

"Well, milord, how do you like her?" Cristina asked when they were alone.

"She's marvelous, Cristina." His chest seemed to puff out several inches.

"And you were terrific. You came through with flying colors and so quickly, too." Blake was visibly relieved that her labor had been brief and easy. He didn't think he could have survived another twenty-hour ordeal. "I think I must be the luckiest man alive to have you and our daughter."

"Except for her feet, she looks just like you." Cristina busied herself counting the tiny, red toes of the baby's long, narrow feet. "She has your black hair."

The infant stirred restlessly at her mother's breast and eagerly began searching for nourishment.

"She's like me in other ways as well," Blake chuckled wickedly. "She seems to have a healthy appetite for two of the finest things in life."

Cristina blushed at the hungry look in his eyes and turned her attention back to the baby.

Blake walked to the dresser and returned with the black box. He placed it on the bed beside Cristina. "I have something for you, sweetheart. A gift."

Cristina stared at the carved box. She smiled at him as she read the inscription. "Blake, it's lovely."

"Open it," he encouraged.

Cristina handed Blake the sleepy baby and picked up the box. She lifted the lid and was stunned to find the box full of emeralds and diamonds. "It's the necklace Rudolf sent to me. The one you accused me of stealing. Why are you giving it back to me now?"

"Because it's yours," Blake said simply. "I was wrong not to believe you.

I'm sorry."

"Blake, you don't have to give me this jewelry. What happened in the past doesn't matter anymore."

"This matters. This necklace is part of our lives--part of what brought us together in the first place. An intricate part. When you left London with Rudolf, it was a reminder of you and what I thought was your betrayal. I was wrong. So now I want you to have it and remember everything we've shared and all the obstacles we've had to overcome to be where we are today."

"But there's more...." Cristina lifted the necklace and discovered the matching pieces. "A bracelet and earrings. Blake, I don't understand...."

"They go with the necklace."

"Someone did steal this necklace from you," Cristina replied matter-of-factly. "There's more to this than you're telling me."

Blake nodded his head in agreement. "I bought the necklace a long time ago as a gift for my bride. When I realized I'd married the wrong woman, I decided against giving it to her. It remained locked in the safe at Lawrence House for years until it was stolen and sold and somehow found its way into your pocket--the pocket of the right woman."

Cristina was completely quiet, waiting for him to continue the story.

"It's a very long story, my love, and someday I promise to tell you all of it, but right now I want you to say that you'll accept this gift for what it was meant to be--a gift from a loving husband."

Cristina couldn't doubt the sincerity in his voice, but there was something familiar about that certain gleam in his eyes that made her a little wary and more than a little suspicious.

"I'll accept the necklace and the matching pieces on the condition that you tell me the real reason you're so determined that I have it. We don't need symbols of our love. We already have living proof of that." She nodded toward the baby sleeping in her father's arms. "I believe what you say, my darling husband, but I suspect that your motives for giving me these aren't exactly noble. Tell me."

"You drive a hard bargain, milady."

"Tell me," Cristina demanded again.

"They match your eyes." Blake's handsome face was completely guileless as he walked around the bed and placed Bethany in her cradle.

Cristina relented and held out her arms to her husband. "You say the nicest things. I've always loved your way with women--especially me."

A wolfish grin replaced the innocent look on Blake's face. "And I've always had a burning desire to see a certain red-haired countess lying beneath me wearing nothing but diamonds and emeralds that match her enchanting eyes...."

Cristina's leer matched his own. "I have remarkable healing powers, milord," she assured him.

"Promise?" Blake asked urgently.

"Always," Cristina answered firmly, pulling him down to lie beside her.

*Author's Note*

During Queen Victoria's reign, presentations at court marked the formal entrance of a young woman into fashionable society. In 1878, ladies were presented to the queen at "drawing rooms" held at St. James's Palace. The court balls, which the queen did not attend during her years of mourning, were held elsewhere, usually at Buckingham Palace, and presided over by the Prince and Princess of Wales.

For the purpose of this story, I chose to keep Cristina's formal presentation to the queen and the court ball that followed at the same location.

Also for the purpose of this story, I chose to modify Crown Prince Rudolf's social calendar a bit. His actual visit to England in 1878 took place in January through February and he stayed in a hotel on Brook Street rather than at Marlborough House with the Prince of Wales. Otherwise, I left his agenda essentially the same.

The Ringstrasse in Vienna was begun in the year 1858 in celebration of the birth of Crown Prince Rudolf and was still under construction at the time of his death in January 1889. The Viennese citizens waited sixteen years for the grand opening of the New Court Theatre on the Ringstrasse. Begun in 1872, it opened on October 14, 1888 and was unfinished at the time this story took place.

For these historical manipulations and any mistakes or inaccuracies, I bear full responsibility and graciously beg your pardon.

--Rebecca Hagan Lee

June 1999

*Rebecca Hagan Lee*

Rebecca Hagan Lee set out to make her mark in the world of television journalism but somewhere along the way, decided she was a small-town girl at heart and settled in a town where the media consists of a weekly newspaper and an AM radio station. Seeking a creative outlet, she turned to writing romance stories far different from the world of television news, but not that far removed from the hundreds of episodes of Bonanza, Big Valley, Gunsmoke, and The Virginian she had watched growing up. She decided to create stories where good guys win, bad guys lose, prostitutes have hearts of gold, and the heroes and heroines who fall in love and persevere are richly rewarded with incredibly bright futures and happy endings. In her world, heroines don't die or get killed off to make way for the next episode's new love interest; they get their men and help them become ideal husbands, lovers, friends, and fathers.

Rebecca Hagan Lee is the author of five bestselling romances, and has won numerous awards including a Waldenbooks Award for Bestselling Original Long Historical Romance by a New Author. She lives in south Georgia with her hero husband, two miniature schnauzers, a rat terrier, a cat, and a host of imaginary heroes and heroines waiting to be introduced.