“I was merely admiring the gown,” Maxim excused. And all within it, his mind accused.
“I realize you intended the clothes for Arabella,” Elise needled, deliberately setting the spurs to him. “But under the circumstances I’m sure she won’t mind, since she has a husband to buy her such costly garb.”
Maxim scowled harshly. It disturbed him to be reminded of Arabella, but strangely it was not for reasons he might have expected. His feeling of guilt goaded him. It was as if he had turned his back on every commitment he had ever made to Arabella—and yet, it was she who had accepted another on the very heels of his purported death. When he thought back upon it, she had not mourned his loss for very long at all.
Maxim directed a curt nod toward the stairs. “Shall we go?”
Hurrying past him, Elise swept down the hall and began her descent, leaving Maxim to stare after her in some confusion at her haste. His easy strides brought him swiftly to her side, but Elise dared not glance at him for fear he might glimpse something akin to admiration in her face. He looked quite dashing and debonair in leather-trimmed green doublet and trunk hose, and though he was the one whom she had the most cause to hate, she had to admit he was probably the most handsome man she had ever met in her life.
“Allow me,” Maxim bade at the front portal as he took her cloak. Settling the fur-lined garment upon her shoulders, he reached past her to swing open the door and executed a brief but courtly bow.
Elise was taken aback by his gentlemanly display, and felt a certain unease when faced with the gallant side of his nature. It was far easier to remain aloof and distant when he ranted and raved. She swept through the portal with a small nod of gratitude and paused on the stoop in a place where it was protected from the probing winds. Maxim followed a moment later, having donned a cloak, and descended the stone steps.
Fitch was waiting with Eddy and gave the reins over to his lordship, then ran back to fetch the lady’s steed. In response to a gentle nuzzling Maxim rubbed the stallion’s velvet-soft nose affectionately. He paused as his lingers traced small, raised weals on either side of the animal’s nose and leaned back slightly to carefully examine the pattern of scars. Four thin lines ran together, such as a small, furred creature might make in an attack “What is this?” he asked as if questioning his steed. “What have you tangled with, old boy? You look as if you’ve run afoul of a cat.”
Eddy rolled his eyes, and Elise felt them pause on her for an accusative moment. She shrugged off the idea of the mute condemnation and, pulling on a pair of gloves, made her descent. She glanced around as she heard Fitch coming with her mount and stared in amazement at the sight that greeted her. The short, squat, shaggy white mare she had dubbed “Angel” would certainly have been a shameful palfrey for any lady of quality to claim, especially when brought in sharp contrast to the powerful black steed, but now, with a festive array of tiny bells and colored rag ribbons twined through the stiffly rebellious white mane, the mare looked utterly ridiculous.
The sight broke Maxim’s demeanor and elicited a burst of uproarious mirth from him until he caught sight of Fitch’s puzzled expression. Immediately he squelched his laughter as he realized the man had probably labored most of the morning in an effort to groom the mare and make it presentable for the lady.
Elise’s indignation had been sparked by Maxim’s amused guffaws and she might have vented her rage right then and there if not for the fact that Fitch had thought he was doing a kind service for her. She could not abuse his tender heart in such a fashion. It was the not-so-noble lord she wanted to wreak her anger upon, and she settled a withering glare upon that one before graciously extending her hand to the bemused servant.
Elise seated herself upon the decorated nag and adjusted her cloak and gown for a moment before accepting the reins and quirt from Fitch. Applying the short whip, she encouraged the animal to its fastest pace and rode forward without even a brief glance toward her escort. The small hooves clattered across the bridge before the heavier hoofbeats of Eddy’s bold trot were heard behind her. Chuckling as he passed her, Maxim took the lead and then slowed the stallion to match the plodding gait of the mare. Now and then he turned in his saddle to take in the sight, and his laughter would echo back from the hills.
The winds died down, as did finally the sounds of his lordship’s amusement, and with the sun high in the sky, the day warmed to a most comfortable degree. The snow became wet and the path softened beneath Eddy’s hooves. Elise’s short-legged steed splash-plopped along in the deeper tracks, and with each step the small hooves threw up splauerings of muddied snow until the lower belly and legs of the mare were no longer white.
The tinkling of the tiny bells echoed in the hushed silence of the hillocks and forests as they passed along the trail. It was not an unpleasant sound, and Elise found her irritation easing by slow degrees as she began to enjoy the outing. Though Von Reijn’s heavy escort had brought home to her an awareness of the dangers that might abound when traveling this far from the well-used paths, a strange security suffused her which made her wonder at its source. Perhaps she had faced too many threats of late and grown contemptuous of them all. Or could it have been the presence of her companion that eased her qualms?
A stout English bow and a quiver of arrows were slung behind his saddle. A sword hung from his side, and there was an alert readiness in his manner and the bold erect way in which he sat his horse. That black beast in himself was enough to stir caution in the stoutest of hearts. The great hooves lifted and fell with ponderous regularity, yet with an ease that only hinted of a fair turn of speed.
Elise focused her attention more closely upon the man, and though he seemed at ease, she saw his head turn slightly as he scanned each bush, copse, or thicket where danger might lurk. If a bird flushed, his eyes followed it. If a branch moved, he assured himself it was only the wind. She pondered on his silence and the attitude he displayed. He seemed quite responsible about her safety and comfort and glanced about often to assure himself of both.
Elise almost cringed at the remembrance of the burrs beneath his sheet, but she shrugged off the brief pang of conscience. He was due much more than she was able to deliver him. To be certain, when taking into account what she had suffered because of him, she should listen with eager ear for his reaction.
After a time Maxim halted and pulled Eddy aside. When she drew abreast, he paced her for a moment. “All is well with you, Elise?” he queried solicitously and, at her nod, questioned further, “You’re warm enough? And comfortable?”
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.”
So Worthy My Love Page 22
