So Worthy My Love (38 page)

Elise's nerves stretched taut as she crept to the canopied piece. There was no mistaking the tousled tawny head of the lord of Faulder Castle. He lay on his left side, facing away from her, and the fur pelts barely preserved her composure, for they provided
only a meager covering over his narrow hips. An ugly, purple scar marred the smooth symmetry of his back, lending her an understanding of those brief times she had seen him grimace and stretch, as if some twinge of pain plagued him.

A sudden pang of compassion stirred within her as she thought of the agony he must have suffered when Fitch and Spence dragged him from the murky depths of the river and then spirited him away in the dead of night to the inn in Alsatia. Nicholas had said he had been close to death, and the whole of England had been persuaded that he had died. It greatly pleased her that he had not.

Elise held her breath as he stirred restlessly in his sleep and rolled onto his back. A long sigh slipped from him as he flung an arm up over his head and turned his face slightly away. Though she dared not move or breathe, her eyes wandered where they would, while a warming blush suffused her cheeks at the forwardness of her inspection. Slowly her gaze passed down the furred chest and lean waist and moved on to the firm, flat belly with its light tracing of hair. A dark shadow of a scar traced upward across his ribs from his left side, and curious to know the extent of it, she leaned over the bed as her eyes followed the line of it.

Of a sudden long fingers closed tightly upon her arm, and Elise gasped in sudden alarm as she found herself being swept down over the man. Maxim rolled to his side, pulling her full against him, and held her there with an arm clasped close about her slender waist. For a stunned moment Elise stared with widened eyes into his shadowed face, while the
firelight etched his dark form with a golden light, tracing along the side of his head, the square, muscular curve of his shoulder, on downward over a naked flank to where the open skirt of her robe covered his leg. She saw the gleam of white teeth beside her, and even in the darkness, she thought it had more the twist of a lurid leer.

“What? No pail of icy water to drench me?” His voice was soft and deeply laced with humor. “What say you, maid? Have you brought aught to rend me to my pallet?”

“Let me go!” Elise gasped. She laid a hand to his naked chest to push herself away and struggled to rise.

“Not yet, I think,” Maxim whispered, bringing around his left arm to fold it beneath her head. He raised slightly on that member until his shadow covered her, and he lowered his head toward hers. Elise flung her face aside, but he forced it back as his arm curled about her head, and she was imprisoned in a gentle vise that refused to let her go. Deliberately he took his time, touching kisses as light as thistledown upon her lips, insidiously stirring her woman's passion. Her trepidation began to fade and her qualms were sundered beneath the onslaught of his persuasive gentleness. By slow degrees his mouth parted and began to pluck the sweet nectar from hers in soft caresses, sipping deep, slowly sampling until she began to feel almost heady with the strong intoxicant of his kisses. His fervor mounted with her advancing response, and his tongue became a flicking firebrand as his mouth consumed hers with a hunger that would not be lightly appeased. A soft sigh slipped from her as his
lips wandered
down the slender column of her throat. Her dressing gown fell away from her naked breasts beneath his searching hand, and Elise caught her breath at the flaring pleasure evoked by the warm wetness of his mouth and the flaming strokes across a softly pliant peak.

A log fell in the fireplace, sending a burst of crackling sparks flying outward from the hearth and startling Elise to her senses. Her eyes flew open, and with a sudden heave, she pushed the naked man away and scrambled over him to escape the bed, not caring that her modesty paid the total price as the skirt of her dressing gown flared wide. With urgent haste she fled the chamber and slammed the portal behind her. She seized the lighted tallow, and her rapid descent of the stairs made the tiny flame dance crazily atop the wick until it was nearly doused by the swift current of air. She plunged through the lower portal, secured it well, and flung aside the tapestry. Setting the candle in place, she knelt before the hearth, trembling and shaken, but it was not the coldness of the room that left her so. It was the realization of where their passion had led her.

A soft scratching on the hidden panel snatched her breath, and she heard the subdued plea.

“Elise? Open the door.”

Slipping beneath the tapestry, she braced her brow against the panel. “Please, Maxim, go away.”

“I want you.” Though but a whisper spoken against the panel, it seemed like a shout in the darkness that enveloped her. “I need you.”

Despite the coldness beneath the heavy cloth, a fine dew of moisture covered her skin, and her
hands shook as she clutched them to her trembling mouth. “Go away, Maxim. Leave me be. Forget that I ever came.”

His brief, scoffing laugh attested to the difficulty of that feat. “Forget that I've a heart that will not slow? A hand that will not cease its trembling? A man's lust that is not quenched? Would you have me seek out another to sate it?”

“No!”
The answer burst from her lips before she could halt it, and she began to sob. Her heart ached with the sudden threat of his words, but she could not yield to the driving urgency of their passions, not when there was much yet to be spoken between them.

T
HE
H
ANSA CAPTAIN
had arrived at Faulder Castle in his usual buoyant spirits, and settling his gaze on Elise, had thrown his arms wide and lavishly praised the maid on her appearance. “Oh, ho! Vhat have ve here? A fair damsel grown more radiant in these northern climes? Pray tell, vhat has done this thing? Can it be the new gown she is vearing?” His light blue eyes gleamed as he perused her.
“Nein,
I think it is more than that. I vow the frost in the air has set a sparkle in her eyes and a bloom upon her cheeks.” He leaned near with a teasing leer. “Truly,
vrouwelin,
if I did not know better, I vould think yu are happy here.”

“And had I no better ken, Captain Von Reijn, I would think you were endowed with the wayward tongue of an Irishman,” Elise parried with a beguiling smile and laid a hand upon his sleeve. “Truly, this cold weather does bring a blush to the cheeks, and your good company a warmth to my heart. We bid you welcome to Faulder Castle.”

“Yu are as gracious as yu are beautiful,
vrouwelin.
” Maxim could do naught but silently agree with the captain's observations. It seemed with each passing day Elise grew more exquisite in
her beauty. This evening she looked exceptionally striking dressed in a black and gold matelasse' gown she had donned for the benefit of their guest. A ruff of stiff gold lace adorned her slender throat, and beneath it hung a most recent gift from the Hansa captain, gold chains intertwined with pearls and starred with tiny jewels. Heavy strands of auburn hair had been coiled intricately and dressed high upon her head, lending her a regal countenance that seemed to awe even
Frau
Hanz.

Maxim was intrigued by every aspect of Elise's character and appearance. He found her totally engaging and easily understood how she captured the attention and imagination of both her suitors, though he stood mute and reluctantly reticent while the other man zealously wooed her. It was not a role Maxim greatly cherished. To play the disinterested bystander and ignore the painful proddings of jealousy as Nicholas freely claimed her company was an extremely difficult task. Had it not been for his own foolishness in giving the man permission to court her, he would have pressed his own suit with great fervor.

“Herr
Dietrich has spent the day creating a feast for your pleasure, Captain.” Elise swept a hand toward the table invitingly. “It awaits only your enjoyment.”

Nicholas hooked his fingers in his jeweled belt and grinned. “Someone has read my mind.”

Elise laughed brightly. “There was no need, Captain. We know of your great love for food.”

The meal was entered, and the time passed amiably. Much later the three left the table and found
their own place of relaxation as
Frau
Hanz cleared away the last of the wooden trenchers and
Herr
Dietrich prepared a tray of sweetmeats to serve with tankards of mulled wine. Nicholas retired to a huge chair, while Maxim remained near the table, half-sitting, half-leaning against its sturdy planks. From there, he observed the graciousness of his charge as she served the spiced wine, which, to his irritation, also seemed the desire of the Hansa captain.

“Yu are an exquisite and unmatchable beauty in yur new gown,” Nicholas extolled. His pale blue eyes sparkled with pleasure as she danced around in a slow circle before him, and he cocked a wondering brow at Maxim who remained carefully stoic while his gaze rested on the maid. “I don't know if I should trust her here vith yu much longer, my friend. Such a tempting sight vould vear hard on any man.”

Elise met Maxim's stare with a challenge in her eyes and could not resist a taunt. “I doubt that his lordship even notices I'm alive. He's far too involved with his memories of Arabella.”

Nicholas drained his mug and rose to refill it. “Maxim has not lived in this northern clime long enough. Cold nights have a tendency to varm a man's heart and make him more appreciative of a maid closer to hand. It . . . ah . . . becomes a matter of survival . . . though for certain, his lordship has proven he has a vill to survive.”

“Do we not all share that inclination?” Elise inquired with a cryptic smile.

“Of course,
vrouwelin!
” the captain agreed.
“Am Leben bleiben!
‘Tis an urge so strong in some men,
they vill sometimes ignore the call of a drowning man to guard their own lives.” He splashed more of the mulled wine into his mug and gazed thoughtfully into the distance for a brief moment before facing them again. “No one knows a man's true mettle ‘til the challenge comes. When faced vith danger, some turn tail and run, vhile others stand and fight. I've always considered myself a fighter, vith many a brawl to advance as evidence, but I've also fancied myself a lover of life and ladies. God only knows vhat I vould do if faced vith certain death. So vhere is truth to be found until that hour of testing?” He raised an arm to indicate the Marquess. “ ‘Tis different vith my friend. He has faced the foe and bested him.”

A wry grin curved Maxim's lips. “I've also fled to preserve my life. Indeed, you could say the guards very nearly ended my life ere I escaped their tender care.”

Nicholas leaned back in his chair and entwined his fingers over his chest. “I see yu make light of yur valor, my friend, and jest over yur escape. Yet very few have escaped Elizabeth's guards and eluded their search and then lived to banter over the whole of it.”

“And you make much ado about nothing.” Maxim shrugged casually. “Besides, whatever repute I once had serving Elizabeth, I've now lost. I've been stripped of home, honor, and possessions.”

“Stripped of home and possessions, perhaps.” Nicholas considered his host with a thoughtful smile. “But I think not honor.”

“I fear my charge would disagree with you,” Maxim commented dryly, directing his gaze again to the maid. “She is of the belief that there's no honor among thieves and other sorts of vagabonds.”

“To be sure, my lord. Pirates, brigands, and kidnappers have no more esteem than the foulest scum.” Elise slowly approached the table as she teased him. “But then, since I cannot speak from experience as to the lengths a man will go for love, I may in time learn what goads a man and alter my opinion. As you have already clearly demonstrated, you'd do much to have Arabella at your side.” With gracefully veiled deliberation and a touch of boldness, Elise reached for the platter of sweetmeats
Herr
Dietrich had placed on the table, brushing so close to Maxim that her skirts half covered his booted legs. Lifting coyly questioning eyes to meet his stare, she dared to goad him. “Your devotion to her was the reason for her planned abduction, was it not, my lord?”

Maxim felt the prodding of her words and, at the same time, the pulsing of his blood as her nearness tantalized him and struck sparks in his mind. In the past days he had come to realize she could, with no more than a look, a touch, or a smile, awaken his lusting desires more effectively than any woman he had ever known, while seeming oblivious to what she did to him. Or was he being too kind to believe that she had not been born with the wiles of a temptress?

Elise eyed him quizzically as she gently taunted, “Lost your tongue, my lord? Cannot speak? Offended?”

Maxim slowly grinned as a rather wicked gleam glimmered in the green eyes, but no words broke his lips.

“Oh, you
are
in a peculiar mood,” she observed.

His brow crinkled lopsidedly, betraying an amused skepticism. “Strange that you should be saying that to me.”

Elise responded with a soft laugh and a flippant toss of her head. “I really don't know what you mean, my lord,” she said in a guise of innocence. Holding forth the tray, she offered him the delicacies. “Would you care for a sweetmeat?”

Maxim caught her gaze and held it, making no attempt to select a tidbit as he kept his arms folded across his chest. He knew she had a propensity for being mischievous. What he had to determine was whether she was trifling with him for the sport of it, or if she was following the immortal pattern of a lovesmitten maid by doting on a suitor she had come to fancy. Her sincerity would bear testing. “Most assuredly, madam. It has been my craving for some time now.”

Elise carefully tended her reaction, feeling a delicious warmth suffuse her. His eyes plunged to the very depth of her being, and his subtle meaning did not go unheeded. Softly she queried, “Which should it be, my lord?”