So Worthy My Love (29 page)

Elise inclined her head again without comment.

“ ‘Tis well then, but if you should have a need, just call out.” As if on his own accord Eddy resumed his position in the van.

“Amazing,” Elise sighed to herself as she watched the pair. Horse and man seemed like one,
but when Reland had ridden the stallion his commands had usually been accompanied by a heavy-handed sawing on the reins and a pronounced flogging of the heels. Frequently the Earl had equipped himself with spurs and heavy gauntlets and, for an excuse, had cited Eddy's high spirit and reluctance to obey. He had preened and smirked in self-satisfaction when he gained the awe of those who would listen. “Takes a brawny man with a hand of steel to keep a big one like this in check.”

Yet here was one who belied Reland's harsh hand by a light touch on the reins. He never affected a spur, and yet the horse almost danced beneath him as if eager for his weight and companionship. “Should he bend that gentle touch to a lady, such a one would no doubt be anxious to respond,” she mused with a hint of mirth. “Except for me, of course.” She mentally denied the possibility. “I've had enough of rags and ropes and chests and such. I would not be so susceptible.”

She lifted her gaze from Eddy's flowing tail to the broad square shoulders of the man atop him. “Maxim seems more at ease facing danger,” she pondered, “than confronting the likes of a simple maid. If he could only understand my . . .”

Her mind ground to a halt.
“Maxim?
‘Tis the second time today I've thought of him like that. How so? Do my musings betray me? Is there in this heart a softening for the man?”

Tentatively Elise formed a vision of herself richly gowned and he, wealthily attired, entering some majestic and courtly chamber with her hand upon his arm. In her mind she heard the hushing of the
crowd as all eyes turned to see and the low murmur of the ladies as they admired her escort with glowing eyes. A flood of emotion washed through her, tinging the blue of her eyes with a subtle green. She knew her answer before a blush filled her face with warmth and, afraid to entertain it further, flung the thought from her mind before it blossomed into words.

In some embarrassment Elise retreated from the illusion and shifted her eyes away to follow the flight of a small flock of birds from a bush. She deliberately recalled the abuses of her person and polished each incident with care until she felt the familiar, now-welcome heat of anger and resentment rise up within her again. Only a wee, small voice from deep within her mind warned her to take care. This impassioned hatred would take careful tending to survive, and she dared not dally overmuch in her musings if he was to receive his just reward.

They gained the outer limits of Hamburg and a few moments later entered into the bustling activity of the city. Maxim rode beside her through the slush-covered streets, and finally they came to a halt in front of a group of small shops. Elise had a deep reluctance to dismount for fear of ruining her slippers and soiling the hem of her gown. Yestereve's snowfall and the warmth of today's sun had left the streets well-mired with melting muck At the present moment a pair of tall chopines would have greatly eased her dilemma. Yet there was little choice left her but to dismount as gracefully as she could manage. She could hardly plod barefoot across the thoroughfare.

Elise delayed as long as possible, searching for a dryer place to dismount, and lifted a somewhat worried frown to Maxim when he stepped around the head of the mare.

“Are you in need of assistance?” he asked with an amused smile.

Her countenance turned quizzical. “Are you offering it?”

“Aye, that I am, madam.”

Her dismay faded. “Then I gladly accept.”

Maxim swept the toque from his head and made a gallant leg. “Your servant, fair maid.” His white teeth flashed in a sudden broad grin, then he settled the hat jauntily upon his head. Slipping one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees, he plucked her clear of the saddle. Catching her high against his chest, he took several tottering steps backward as the thick mud sucked at his boots.

Elise caught her breath and closed her eyes tightly, expecting to be immersed into the well-churned slush at any moment, then the world settled and all was still. Cautiously she opened her eyes to find the green ones staring into her own at a very close range. Maxim plumbed the sapphire depths with a leisured thoroughness until she realized that she had locked both her arms tightly about his neck in her panic.

Seeing the warmth flood over her face, Maxim nodded ever so slightly and, in a soft voice, embarrassed her further. “My pleasure, madam, I assure you.”

Elise brought her right hand from around his neck, but there was no place to rest her left arm
except around his neck She could feel the stavelike firmness of his muscular ribs against her and the rock-hard steadiness of his arms. Unbidden, a vision from an earlier morn stirred in her mind, and beneath his regard her face reddened perceptibly.

They reached the door of the shop, and Maxim's arm twisted beneath her as he lifted the latch and nudged the portal open with a shoulder. Stepping inside, he lowered her to the floor with a prolonged gentleness that set her senses to reeling. She glanced away for a moment until by sheer dint of will she regained her composure, piece by shattered piece. ‘Twas the same old haughty stare she meant to bend on him when she faced him again, but that too faded as he pressed a sizable purse into her hand.

“This should see you reasonably attired for the moment,” he murmured.

Though Elise searched his face, she could read nothing in it to stir her resentment. Absent was the satire and scorn she had expected. In truth, his smiling eyes were soft and almost tender as he cupped the hand holding the purse between the two of his.

“For the time being I must bid you contain yourself to whatever the purse will allow until I am able to afford a richer wardrobe for you.”

“You need not waste your coins on me, my lord,” Elise responded, regaining her aloofness. “As your prisoner I hardly expect to be favored with gifts.”

Maxim folded his hands behind his back as he bent a pointed stare upon her. “Unless you have some penchant for selecting the outlandish, I trust the new gowns will not be a waste. In any case, the
choice will be yours to make and bear the consequences of. Almost anything will be better than that rag you wear about the castle. I would see you better gowned than that.”

Ponderous footsteps came from the rear of the shop, and Maxim turned to greet the large woman who came into view.
“Guten Tag Frau
Reinhardt.
Mein Name ist
Maxim Seymour.
Ich sei Freund mit Kapitan
Von Reijn . . .”

“Of course!” the dressmaker answered in crisp English, and chortled exuberantly as she continued. “How good it is to meet you. Captain Von Reijn spoke to me some time ago and said he thought you would be coming in.”

“Von Reijn's foresight is unlimited,” Maxim returned graciously. “He's a man who knows quality, and you came well-recommended.”

A blush of pleasure suffused the round face. Madam Reinhardt, a true Englishwoman at heart, had been a widow for some three years now and though the number of her years was increasing, she had not grown so old to be oblivious to the charm of a well-spoken English gentleman, especially one whose handsomeness compelled most women to stare in fond appreciation. “The captain is most kind, sir, as you are.” She swept a hand about to indicate the cloak and gown Elise was wearing. “I remember when Captain Von Reijn ordered these made. ‘Tis a joy to see them so well-displayed.”

“Having seen such evidence of your talents, madam, we have come to enlist your aid in the matter of other gowns. You will take care of my charge's needs?” Maxim inquired.

“Certainly, sir. Is she your . . .” Curiosity prompted the question, but proper decorum made her hesitate. It was a foolish woman who ruined a chance at profit by an unchecked tongue. Still, the pair made a most attractive couple, and she had always been intrigued by affairs of the heart.

“In my care for the moment.” He cleared his throat and examined the detail of a nearby fabric. “She was ah . . . inadvertently separated from her uncle, through no fault of her own, of course.” He turned and, taking the widow's hand, gave her such a smile that she began to recall the more tender moments of her own marriage and completely forgot the subject at hand. “For her own protection,” he continued in a low voice, “I would prefer the young lady remain here with you, until my return.”

“Indeed, Master Seymour. There is always a threat on the streets for a lovely young lady if she is not properly escorted.”

Maxim dared not face his charge to receive the accusing stare she no doubt would be tempted to give him. “Then you understand the necessity for keeping watch over her. She can be quite willful at times.”

“Certainly, sir. You need not worry.”

“Good, then I will take my leave.” He faced Elise, whose brows were slanted downward with a sharply piqued frown. She made it apparent that she disliked the way he cautioned the woman. “Be a good child while I'm gone,” he admonished, leaning down to place a light peck upon her cheek He felt her stiffen as he laid a hand upon her arm. “I shall return as soon as possible.”

“Oh, I'm sure we can manage quite well without you, my lord,” Elise assured him. “There's little reason for you to hurry.”

“To be sure, sir,” Madam Reinhardt agreed. “Take your time.”

Maxim bestowed a doubtful stare upon Elise and was uneasy with the innocent smile she gave in return. He opened his mouth to speak a word of caution, but closed it again, deciding that he would only add tinder to whatever mischievous flame burned behind those deep blue orbs.

Elise tucked Maxim's purse into her own as the door closed behind him. Removing her gloves, she watched him lead Eddy and the bedraggled mare away, leaving her no way to flee the shop but on foot. “Always suspicious,” she mused. “A body would think he wants to keep me his prisoner.”

She faced Madam Reinhardt abruptly. “I would send a message to Captain Von Reijn. Do you have someone who can go?”

The widow clasped her hands tightly together to keep from wringing them. There was a no-nonsense firmness in the younger woman's voice that somehow boded ill for Master Seymour's wishes. “I . . . I suppose I can send the neighbor boy . . .”

“Good! I shall pay whatever is reasonable.” Elise shrugged out of her cloak and laid it across a chair while Madam Reinhardt wallowed in a quandary. Elise saw the indecision in the woman's face and laughingly laid a calming hand upon her arm.

“Madam Reinhardt, the matter is really quite simple. Although Lord Seymour is my . . . uh . . . guardian of the moment, Captain Von Reijn holds
my moneys on account, and if I'm to pay for my clothes, I must contact him. Please send the boy and let us get on with the selections.”

In relief Madam Reinhardt hurried from her shop to find the boy and, with a promise of a small reward, sent him on the errand. She returned to find her customer already making selections of material from a private collection that was kept in a cabinet near the far corner of the shop. Realizing she had left the armoire unlatched, the dressmaker set up a renewed fretting, for the fabrics which the girl was closely examining were some of the finest and most expensive in the shop. To be sure, only her wealthiest patrons could afford such raiment. Doubtful of the girl's ability to pay, the woman brought out several bolts of less costly material. “I'm sure these would be lovely on you, my dear.”

Graciously Elise looked at everything that Madam Reinhardt placed before her, but with each, shook her head in firm decision. “These are more to my liking,” she said at last, indicating the fine silks, plush velvets, and rich brocades closeted in the armoire. “Is there some difficulty with these fabrics?”

“Why, my dear, the cost alone poses a problem! These fabrics are worth a great deal! Are you sure you can pay?”

Turning aside, Elise withdrew a pouch from beneath her skirt and counted out a small stack of sovereigns. “This will serve as a deposit for what I would order from you,” she assured the woman. “Captain Von Reijn will affirm that I'm capable of paying for the rest.”

The dressmaker hefted the heavy coins in her hand, feeling the soft touch of gold. She turned aside momentarily to test one between her teeth, then breathlessly counted out the coins, flipping them over with a finger. They were all new and unshaved. She raised her gaze in amazement. “A deposit? Why, these would pay for a pair of gowns made from such cloth.”

“I know full well what the coins will buy, madam, but I have a desire to be outfitted in a better manner. I've been negligent of my attire of late, and I mean to correct the condition posthaste.” She leaned forward with a coy smile and murmured confidentially, “You see, I'm being courted by a brace of wealthy suitors, and as you may be able to understand, I cannot portray myself a pauper in their company, lest the pair become wary of my sincerity.”

Her statement was true for the most part. Nicholas was wealthy and desired to court her, and although her clothes had always been of a fine quality, she had been rather conservative about her selections in the past, buying only what she had deemed necessary and, even then, dressing in dark shades and subdued styles. She now felt a desire to change that pattern and laid the reason primarily to a need to be adaptable to any occasion that might arise in her search for her father. Certainly if Nicholas introduced her to any of the more influential members of the Hanseatic League, her gowns should be of a quality worthy of the moment. Who could say what information she might gain through such a meeting?

She had other more personal reasons for a change, reasons she found harder to put a finger to. Arabella had always given great attention to her own appearance, which fact had never bothered Elise before, but the remembrance of the Marquess's casual taunt and denial of her ability to be a fit replacement for her cousin gnawed at her, and though she had no feelings save hatred for the man, she felt a rankling need to make him eat his words. It goaded her that he could dismiss her so easily as someone unworthy of a man's devotion. He had made it quite clear that he wanted her to serve his baser pleasures, but for his cherished one, it seemed he reserved that honor for very few women.