Lennox, Mary - Heart of Fire.txt
Page 33
scared, Nikki.”
“Nonsense!” He realized he was shouting. Clamping his
mouth shut, he motioned Andre toward the desk, and pointed
to the book. “But the necklace,” he said, keeping his voice calm
and cool. “I can’t seem to find what I want in the Jewel Tower.
And I want it before the opening ball.”
Andre, apparently reluctant to accept the change of subject,
sighed loudly enough to almost ruffle the book’s pages. “There’s
a merchant just come to town yesterday. A jewel merchant
reputed to have the most beautiful ruby in the world. He’s made
discreet inquiries at the palace. Shall I arrange an interview?”
“A ruby, eh? Yes, that might do. Something better than those
cold, lifeless diamonds. I’d be grateful for your help, Andre. In
the matter of the necklace, and in other things as well…Listen
to this: ‘It follows from what we have just said that, if we are to
keep our flock at the highest pitch of excellence, there should
be as many unions of the best of both sexes, and as few of the
inferior, as possible, and that only the offspring of the better
unions should be kept.””
“What is that?” Andre picked up the book and flipped
through it. With a laugh, he dropped it into Nicholas’s hands
again. “Plato? On the getting of children? Perhaps I should have
paid more attention to my Greek translations.”
“It sounds as though he was proposing some kind of superior
race—one slowly developed through time. And what do you
make of this?” Nicholas picked up another bound volume, this
one in Latin, and translated, “An Historical and Mythical Study
of The Ancients.
“‘After Alexander the Great utterly destroyed the city of
Thebes, the Council of Athens convened, for they saw the end
to their democracy.
“So they sent out a colony of citizens, youths graced with
mental and physical acuity—and maidens of high virtue and
beauty, athletes, craftsmen, sculptors, philosophers. To these
they gave the laws and the great works of the city. Their duty
was to disappear from mankind, to form a perfect society in
which greed, brutality, and all manner of baseness was seen
no more. These men and women were never heard from again.’
“
Nicholas closed the book and stretched his legs in front of
him, slumping back in his chair. “Would you think it lunacy to
believe that there might be a superior race of people hiding in
plain view of the world? That they have managed to eradicate
‘all manner of baseness’ from their society?”
Andre raised his brows and gave a shrug. “Perhaps it’s
possible,” he said slowly.
“It certainly would answer a lot of questions about Sera’s
silence on the subject of her upbringing.”
“A master race, you’re thinking? Is it possible? Is it even
ethical?”
“Whatever the ethics of the plan, the result is a rather naïve
master race—one that knew nothing of ‘all manner of baseness’,
judging from my reluctant betrothed. Well, perhaps I am dead
wrong about this. By the way, my rejection of the marriage-
alliance position includes my sister, Andre. You’ll have to be
patient and discreet until we’ve vanquished Galerien, but I
wanted you to know my mind in this. In case you’re interested.”
It was good to see Andre’s smile as he jumped to his feet
and left the study. Almost as good as imagining Katherine’s
reaction to his revelation, which, judging from Andre’s alacrity,
ought to happen in a few minutes, thought Nicholas.
He settled into his chair and picked up the old volume of
Plato again. What a shame he didn’t have a council to decree
that Sera arrive in the abbey on Saturday dressed like a bride.
Just how the hell did a man get a supremely stubborn woman to
marry him?
Nicholas was still pondering the question late that night.
He lay in his big state bed, staring at the green velvet tester with
the golden crown above his head. Sera hadn’t appeared at dinner,
even though he’d sent her a no-nonsense invitation that
Katherine had slipped beneath her door. He was beginning to
worry. Had he pushed too hard?
How long would it take Sera to accept her fate? He hoped
he’d gotten her with child. It would certainly simplify matters.
He sighed, looking at the door in the wall that he opened every
night after his valet left him in peace.
And there she was. Her hair flowed down her back in
lustrous waves the way he liked it best. Her bare feet peeked
out from beneath the folds of the dressing gown she wore.
Nicholas rose swiftly and came to her, taking her in his
arms, closing his eyes in relief. She was so soft, and she smelled
so good. She rubbed her cheek against his bare chest, and he
made a low sound of satisfaction.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, and Nicholas suddenly
remembered that he wore nothing but his trousers.
“Not now.” He smiled into her hair. “Come to bed.”
She nodded and slipped her arms around his neck like a
trusting child. He swung her up in his arms and crossed the
chilly floor to the bed.
“I have to tell you something,” she said as he laid her on
the mattress.
“All right.” Suddenly, he was afraid. With a few well-
meaning words, she could shatter him. He stalled for time,
changing the subject as he joined her on the bed. “Your feet are
frozen. Why didn’t you wear your slippers?”
“I didn’t know I was going to come until I was halfway up
the stairs. I couldn’t sleep, and I wanted you, and, well, then it
all seemed simple.”
He rubbed the shapely little blocks of ice and made them
warm again.
“Oh, that feels lovely.”
“Come under the covers. I’ll make you warm all over.” He
kissed her cheek, right at the tender spot below her ear, and
trailed kisses down her neck, wondering what accident of fate
had placed this precious gift within his keeping.
“When you do that I can’t think,” she said, rubbing up
against him.
“Good.” He opened the tie at her waist and slipped the
dressing gown down her shoulders, following its slide with his
lips. He didn’t want her objections to the marriage, not now,
when her limbs opened to embrace him. He fought for a
modicum of control. It was important to resist the urge to drown
in the depths of that tenderness she offered with such generosity.
It was she, not he, who needed to be convinced they belonged
together. “Let’s keep you that way,” he said, and bent to her,
reveling in the challenge.
Afterwards, he braced his arms to either side of her,
breathing so hard he thought his lungs might burst of it. He was
pleased to see she was doing the same. When he found the energy
to move, he rolled onto his side and drew her close, one arm
clasped possessively around her.
When h
ad he become so entwined with Sera that a mere
distance of inches would leave him bereft? He frowned.
Tomorrow, he would think about it. Right now, she felt too good
to let her go.
Sera lay beside him, her head upon his shoulder. She
contemplated the tester for some time, and then, on a sigh, she
rolled to face him.
“It is very strong, this feeling, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” He stroked the damp, golden curls back from her
face, dropped his hand to her waist and traveled up the arch of
her back.
“What is it that happens between us, Nicholas? Is this what
mating is like always?”
“No. There is satisfaction, but not this wrenching
completion.”
“I have to tell you something.”
“Even now?” What could compel her that was stronger than
what had just happened between them? He tried to push back
the worry, but it nagged like a petulant shrew.
“Especially now.” She paused to take a deep breath. “I love
you. It’s been growing inside, since Selonia, I think and then in
the hunting box, when I was so afraid for you…. I’m so filled
with what I feel. I thought I must burst if I didn’t tell you.”
His hand stilled. He thought the whole earth might have
done the same.
Her face was radiant in the firelight, and in her eyes—those
deep, dark pools a man could drown in—her soul shone. “I
don’t need for you to love me back, Nicholas. And I want to
stay with you for as long as you’ll have me. I hope it makes you
happy.”
Her face, tremulous and luminescent in the light of the
candles, humbled him. He had never seen anything the like of
her naked joy, except perhaps….
A vision rose, of a palace and people everywhere, grown
men and women in fine clothing. He was a small boy, brought
to Beaureve by his father to sign the betrothal papers and stand,
solemn and straight beside the cradle of the little princess. Her
mother, the queen, had looked at her father and said, “I love
you, Stephan.” Just that, but the look on her face as she said it,
the same incandescent joy that had shone there had made
something in him quiver with an intense yearning to someday
have what they shared. As the years passed, he had forgotten
those words, that look, except in dreams that became only a
warm blur upon waking.
“I love you,” the queen had said—Sera had said.
“Oh, God.” He took her face in his hands and traced the
contour of her cheeks, thought that if the curls springing from
her temples were black as a raven’s wing, and not gold….
And knew the secret of Sera, and who she was, at last.
Catherine Elizabeth Seraphina Galerien, daughter of King
Stephan and Marissa, the queen from the Hills that some called
witch. His little lost princess of Beaureve. His betrothed.
He bent to her and shut his eyes against the salty sting. He
laid his kisses on her cheeks, her mouth, and rested her head
against his throat so she wouldn’t see that he knew.
She was deathly afraid of Anatole Galerien.
Her uncle.
The stories for all these years of the sickly princess
languishing in a convent were Galerien’s lies. And he had
believed them, not caring, as long as Laurentia was served by
an alliance his father had continued with Beaureve after King
Stephan’s death.
A deep sorrow rose in Nicholas, for all the lonely nights
she must have spent in Laurentia, fearful and isolated with her
secrets, while an Outlander king kept her imprisoned for his
own designs. Sera might believe she loved him, but she didn’t
trust him to keep her safe. Of course, after seeing him so ill,
how could she believe he was capable of protecting her? He
didn’t believe it, himself.
Nicholas rocked Sera in his arms, soothing her with his
hands, rubbing them up and down her back. She loved him, did
she? It was wonderful. It moved him like nothing else had in
his life. He wished he could tell her he loved her, too. But not
now.
A king couldn’t afford to love.
He couldn’t let love weaken him at time like this. He had to
rid his country of the Brotherhood, and then go after Galerien.
He had to make his country safe, to keep Sera safe. Then she’d
know, at least, that she could trust him. In the meantime, he
would use every Rostov trick in the book to bind her to him.
“Someday, Sera. . .” he whispered.
Maybe someday, he could permit himself to love her.
His hand covered her breast. Her eyes flew open, but he
gave her a teasing smile and fondled her nipple. When he took
it in his mouth, she gasped and shut her eyes, undulating like
silk ribbon in a soft breeze.
He teased her until she was mad with it. Until she said
“Please.” Oh, yes. He would hold her with this.
***
Well before the sun streamed through his window next
morning, Nicholas carried Sera down the stairway and laid her
on her bed. He shut the door in the wall behind him and thought
about how much easier life would be when she was his wife.
He would make a new edict so she didn’t have to sleep anywhere
but in his bed.
He spent the early morning finalizing plans for an attack
on the Brotherhood base with his aides and Andre. He put young
Oblomov in charge of the troops, and he gave Carlsohnn
permission to draw up a plan of attack based on what he had
learned spying out the base.
“We won’t fail you, Sire,” said Oblomov. Since learning of
the upcoming marriage, both had served him with renewed
enthusiasm.
They were so eager and so young, thought Nicholas, until
he realized with a start that both men were a year older than he.
He glanced at the paperwork and decisions that had piled up
during the last few days. Well, perhaps he had always felt old,
until now. Nicholas called his secretary into the room and turned
to Andre, who stood by his side as the others left.
“Sera will need a new gown for her wedding. I want her to
choose the fabric. Perhaps it will give her some small feeling of
control over what is happening to her. She likes Carlsohnn’s
father. Would you mind accompanying her and Katherine into
the city this morning with a few of the guards? I don’t want her
alone for a moment outside the palace with those jackals so
near Montanyard.”
“Of course.” Andre gave him a grateful smile. “I want all
the time I can get with Katherine.”
Nicholas tried to work but found his thoughts straying back
to the night before. A tidal wave of happiness washed over him,
taking him with it. Sera said she loved him. She promised to
stay with him. Shaking himself mentally, Nicholas returned to
his task with renewed concentration, reviewing the plans for
attack on the Brotherhood base.
A discreet knock on the door jolted him out of his thoughts.
A footman ush
ered in a small, thin shadow of a man with a
scraggly brown beard and amber eyes, tugging at the hat in his
hand. The fellow was dressed in a bedraggled velvet coat and
frayed lace. He glanced unsteadily, furtively, from one corner
of the study to another, with the look of a hunted outlaw.
“The merchant, Sire.” The footman bowed and closed the
door behind him.
“Something to drink on this cold afternoon?” asked
Nicholas.
“Aye. Spirits, if you please.”
Nicholas poured brandy, never ceasing until he reached the
top of the glass. He pushed the glass across the desk until it
reached the other side.
The merchant lifted the glass. His hands were trembling so
much that the brandy slopped over the sides.
“Would you care to sit?” Nicholas asked gently.
“That’s very kind of ye’,” said the merchant, lowering
himself into a deep cushioned chair. He picked up the glass and
tried again, this time making the distance to his mouth and
swallowing a deep draught of brandy. “Oh, my that is good,”
he sighed.
“I understand you’re in possession of a rather unusual
stone,” said Nicholas in an encouraging voice.
“Aye, that I am. I’ll be honest with yer majesty. I must leave
this country fast. There are those who look for me that I dursn’t
meet again. The ruby’s all I have left to trade, for I’ve been
paying those that’ll shield me for months now. T’was more in
the manner of a reward I left for them to find, mind ye, than
payment up front. They’re kind, your people, and I was bringin’
them danger.
“I’ll not lie to you,” he went on. “I must be off across the
border today if I’m to live healthy. I need money to cross and to
make my way west through Russia what with all those Frogs
and the Russian army, too. I hope ye’ll like the stone enough to
buy it. That’s all.” The merchant had trouble with the knots on
the pouch holding the jewel.
“May I?” Nicholas held out his hand. The merchant nodded
and dropped the pouch into his palm.
Nicholas drew out the ruby and laid it on the desk. He looked
at it for a long time.
“Yes,” he said, pulling a brace of candles closer as he stared
into the fiery depths of the stone. It was mesmerizing, changing