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Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

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“Then how may I learn if it was truly my father who was seen?”

“Give me time, Elise, and I promise you I shall find out what I can.”

A gentle smile curved her lips as she gave him an answer he did not expect. “ ‘Tis strange that I have come so far from home to find the ones I love.”

His eyes searched hers for evidence of her meaning, and almost hesitantly he inquired, “Should I take encouragement from your statement?”

“I give you leave to think what you might, my lord,” she murmured warmly.

Maxim bent toward her and spoke earnestly, pressing for an explanation. “You open wide the door of my imagination, madam, and I am already a man tormented by my lusts. What say you, have you an answer for me?”

“Lest I be tempted to appease my own inquisitiveness, my lord,” she replied with amazing
candor, “I think marriage would be the lesser of many evils.”

With a sudden smile Maxim slid an arm about her narrow waist and pulled her close. His boldness knew no bounds as he spread a hand over the curve of her buttock and pressed her hips tightly against his loins.

Elise held her breath, totally conscious of his lightly veiled passions as he brought her chin up with a thin knuckle. His green eyes seemed to glow into hers as he whispered, “I'm most eager and willing to appease whatever curiosity you have, madam.”

He would have swept her into his arms, but Elise laid a hand upon his naked chest and, with the lightest touch, restrained him and his ardor. “I pray you give heed to where we are,” she pleaded. “ ‘Twould not be right for me to give myself to you and shame Nicholas in his mother's house.”

“This thing between us is too strong, Elise,” he whispered hoarsely. “How can I stop when the desire overwhelms me?”

“Promise me you will.” She sighed tremblingly.

Maxim slipped his fingers through her hair and cupped her head between his hands as his eyes plunged to the depth of the sapphire orbs. Then his parting lips descended, seizing hers with a passion that took her breath away. Never had she known such fire, such heat in a kiss. It was wild and deliciously wanton, divesting her of the innocence of maidenly dreams while it sowed the seeds of sensual pleasure. His open mouth slanted across hers, greedily seizing what she would give, and she gave
all, holding nothing back. His arms wrapped tightly about her, fitting her close against his hardened, near-naked frame, and a searing heat began to build in the depth of her body, arousing yearnings that were completely foreign to her. She was aware of the manly feel of him and of a growing urgency to press even closer. Her breasts ached to be touched, and beneath the pressure of his muscular chest the pliant peaks warmed in eager anticipation as the bodice of her robe began to separate. His passion was a brand that ignited
a flame within her, and it threatened to consume her. She could not think of stopping now . . .

It was Maxim who, bound by his word, finally snatched back with a frustrated groan, but his nostrils flared as he fought the urge to take her into his arms again. “Sweet mercy, what have we wrought?” he rasped. Tormented by his hungering need, he watched her gather the bodice of her robe together. She was timid now, unsure, and it was all he could do to hold himself in check and not reassure her with his passion. “I cannot be content with a kiss like that,” he whispered. “It sets my mind ablaze for want of more.” Reluctantly he stepped away. “I cannot endure being alone with you and not making love to you. I must bid you leave ere good intentions be rent asunder.”

Like a silent wraith Elise moved away, drawing his gaze as she went. When the door closed behind her, he turned with tensed jaw to stare into the fire. On the morrow he knew what he would do. Of that, he had no doubt.

Chapter 19

N
ICHOLAS HAD STRUGGLED
with a strange feeling of foreboding since his arrival in Lubeck. Something was afoot with the Hansa, he sensed, or more correctly, with Karr Hilliard and his small band of followers. With that one's authority reaching into the uttermost ranks of the order, the whole league could be swayed and maneuvered by the man's ambitious schemes, and who could stand against his power?

A messenger had come to the Von Reijn house summoning Nicholas to a meeting with Karr Hilliard, causing the captain much concern as he expected the matter had something to do with Seymour. It was no great secret that Hilliard despised the English queen and would do whatever he could to bring about her fall from power or even her demise. It was further apparent from his interest in Maxim that Hilliard had hopes of enlisting the Englishman in his cause. If Maxim refused Hilliard's proposal, he could be easily dispatched, perhaps to the pleasure of Elizabeth. If the two reached a mutual accommodation, then Maxim would no doubt serve as scapegoat for whatever offense should take place. Either way, Maxim would
lose his life, and since he seemed blind to such possibilities, what was a friend to do?

The black-glazed brick turrets of the Rathaus seemed to pierce the morning sky high above Nicholas as he passed through its arched portals. He quickly mounted the stairs that led him to the chambers that Karr Hilliard, on occasion, claimed for himself. He handed his toque and cloak to a barrel-chested man of medium height named Gustave, well-known among the Hansa as a personal attendant of Hilliard's, whatever the duty entailed. Shrugging his chamarre straight on his shoulders, Nicholas entered the room where the huge man awaited him.

“Guten Morgen, Kapitan,”
Hilliard bade as he came forward to greet his guest. He was a large, extremely corpulent man who walked with the rolling gait of a seaman, yet when taking his girth into account, Nicholas had trouble envisioning him moving in any other manner. His hair was lank and straggly and was somewhat lighter than the brown leather of his boots. His eyes were a weak gray beneath thickly protruding brows adorned with a brush of wispy brown hairs. The sagging bags which underlined his eyes were no more complimentary to his face than the loose, hanging jowls that seemed to flap and sway with his movements. Though there had been those to doubt Hilliard's agility or strength, Nicholas had seen him descend upon a pair of sailors who had once questioned his authority. The man had caught each head in a beefy hand and brought the two noggins together with enough force to crack their skulls.

“Guten Morgen, Herr
Hilliard,” Nicholas returned the salutation decorously.

A smile slowly spread across the heavy lips, displaying a set of badly stained and crooked teeth separated by wide gaps. “It is goot of yu to come so soon.”

“Yur message appeared urgent.”

“There vas indeed a matter I vished to discuss vith yu.” Karr Hilliard waddled to the hearth and lifted a steaming kettle as he peered inquiringly at Nicholas. “Some tea,
Kapitan?

“Of course,
mein Herr.
” With a nod of gratitude the captain accepted the refreshment, then sipped the spiced brew, finding the addition of a dapple of mead much to his liking.

Not so the company. Nicholas came to a definite conclusion as he considered the man. He owed Karr Hilliard nothing at all.

Hilliard settled again in his chair and clasped his hands around his ponderous belly, giving the captain a lengthy perusal. He had known Nicholas for some time, and though he had never had cause to doubt him, the man's attitude was one of casual nonchalance, as if he were one of the few who were undisturbed by his reputation. Hilliard's brows beetled menacingly. It was a foolish man indeed who ignored the importance of his superiors. “Vhat do yu know of the Marquess of Bradbury?”

“There
is
none at the moment.” Nicholas took a small draught from the steaming mug and held it in his mouth a moment, savoring the taste of the tea before swallowing. “The title has been stripped from the one who bore it,
mein Herr.
As yet there
has been no other named to replace him. Of course, the English crown is notoriously slow on these matters.”

“Yu bandy words vith me, Nicholas,” Hilliard accused jocularly. “Yu know I speak of Maxim Seymour. I believe he is a friend of yurs.”

“Oh, that one.” Nicholas wet his lips in anticipation as he refilled his mug. “He's been my friend for some years. I used to visit his estates, and he has oft taken passage on my ship. Ve have emptied many a keg together.”

“Vere yu not the one who brought him here to Germany?”

“Indeed, it vas aboard my ship that he escaped. Yu can say he did not care to sustain the fickle attentions of her royal majesty's headsman.”

Hilliard digested these tidbits only briefly before moving on to a more pertinent matter. “I understand the man vas accused of treason.”

“Ja, mein Herr.”
Nicholas blew into the mug to cool the tea. “He vas accused of conspiracy vith the Scottish Mary and of laying down a royal agent.”

“And they say he escaped from a troop of royal guards who vere taking him to the Tower.” From the tone of his voice it was clear Hilliard found this hard to believe.

Nicholas replied with a light smile.
“Ja.”

“A man of arms then?”

The captain slowly nodded. “That, too.” After taking a sip, he proceeded to enlarge upon his statement. “But not that foppish dueling kind. His knowledge and skill are born of battle, and his blade vill ever end a fight in the quickest vay possible. He has even captained
a ship of his own.” Nicholas shrugged and tasted the tea again before continuing. “Vere he bound to the sea in spirit, he vould perhaps rival Drake himself.”

A low growl sounded in Hilliard's throat. “Now there's a raving fop! A dandy of the first vater!” His jowls fluttered and the gray eyes took on a distant look as he mulled over the information. Of course, everything he had heard this evening was nothing more than a confirmation of what he already knew. When he spoke again he laid bare the meat of his inquiry. “And vhat allegiance does Seymour still bear to this Elizabeth of his?”

It was Nicholas's turn to be wary and thoughtful. He took another leisurely draught and, setting the mug down, folded his hands over his stomach. “I hesitate on this,” he began carefully, then locked Hilliard's gaze with his own. “I vill tell yu vhat I know. Maxim Seymour is not a man of loose allegiance. Indeed, to the contrary, he vould as soon die for one he has called friend, yet not foolishly so. In such a case I have no doubt he vould arrange to take many vith him. As an enemy I vould respect him. As a friend I cherish him. Still, he has been injured deeply . . . in estate, stature, honor, dignity . . . and, I think, not lastly, in spirit. He chafes for vengeance and has need of income. He has considered lending his talents to Villiam the Vise and the Hessians. As an officer, he vould command a healthy stipend.” Nicholas nodded in agreement with himself. “And he vould be vorth every jot and tittle of it.”

This time Hilliard's jowls fluttered only slightly as a calculating gleam came into his eyes. “Then yu think he vould lend out as a mercenary?”

“It is his own thought,” Nicholas replied “He has some moneys . . . some investments England cannot touch, but they dwindle rapidly. Yet I think in truth his heart begs a return to England, and should Elizabeth fall or fail, I think he vould seek his home.”

Maxim climbed the stairs three at a time and, gaining the level of the uppermost floor, crossed quickly to Elise's door, whereupon he snatched off his toque and gloves and rapped lightly upon the sturdy planks. A soft call begged for a moment more, and after only a brief delay, the portal was opened to reveal Elise, clad in a gown of midnight blue, struggling to fasten a cuff. A warm glow of admiration brightened the emerald eyes as Maxim gave her a lengthy perusal, and the smile that followed his close examination attested to his fervent approval, drawing a blush of pleasure to her cheeks.

“Fair maid, your beauty is like the sun gracing this frozen hand with its warmth and brilliance,” he avowed gallantly, sweeping an arm across his chest and bowing low in a courtly manner.

Though the gown was subtle in its adornments, the vision she created in the wearing of it was both regal and stunning. The huge puffed sleeves were fashioned with rows of midnight blue velvet ribbon and narrow silk ruching whose iridescence changed from dark to a silverish blue. Tightly stitched tucks diminished the bulk of the sleeves at the wrists, where they ended beneath crisp, lace-edged cuffs. The ruche-edged stomacher displayed the slimness of her waist, and below it, voluminous iridescent blue skirts were distended over a rolled farthingale.
The wide, pleated ruff was trimmed with costly lace and was slightly elevated in back to complement her beauty. Beneath a saucy, feathered cap that sat jauntily upon her head the auburn tresses were dressed elegantly high.

“At last!” Elise exclaimed with a smile of triumph as she closed the difficult fastener. She twirled in a tiny pirouette to show off her new gown to him and then, rising on her toes, brushed a kiss upon his cheek “Oh, Maxim, I feel so wonderfully alive this morning!”

“Aye, my love,” he agreed, bringing her close within his embrace. “You do indeed feel wonderfully alive in my arms.”

She laughed gaily and then grew serious, leaning back in his arms. “Madam Von Reijn gave me the message that you would be taking me for an outing but you gave her no hint of where we are bound. Have you received some word of my father? Are we going to talk with someone who has information about him?”

Maxim chuckled. “Does it seem impossible, my charming little goose, that I may want to spend some time with you alone? Though the vows have yet to be spoken over us, between thee and me, my love, you are now my betrothed and my promised bride. ‘Tis my desire to be with you and know that you are mine.”

Her lips took on an upward curve and made no reply, though her eyes, in tender delight, spoke volumes.

“However”—a grin widened his lips as he continued—“I have made arrangements for you to meet with Sheffield Thomas, an Englishman who
was here about the time your father was taken. After you've spoken with him, you can make your own judgment whether or nay it was your father he saw. I'll be fetching him here later this evening, but for now, we must be on our way. I intend to spend the whole of the afternoon with you.”

BOOK: So Worthy My Love
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