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Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss

So Worthy My Love (39 page)

BOOK: So Worthy My Love
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“Whatever you've a mind to give me. ‘Twill be the sweetest,” he murmured, and his voice was like a caress, stirring forth a blush to her cheeks. Though his statement was simple enough on the surface to escape Nicholas's attention, it was made highly suggestive when combined with the casual boldness in his gaze.

Elise selected a tiny fruit tart and held it up as an offering. Again Maxim made no move to take it. Instead, his eyes continued to burn into hers, then he leaned forward slightly and opened his mouth to receive the morsel. She raised it to his lips, and her heart quickened as she set it between his teeth and felt the soft flick of his tongue against her finger as his lips closed upon it. It was the most stealthy of caresses, yet it made her doubt her wisdom in playing her girlish games with him. He was no naïve lad to be encouraged and then held at arm's length by a teasing shake of the head. As evidenced by her previous encounters with him, he was capable of reciprocating in a most provocative way.

“I'm forgetting our guest!” Elise stated breathlessly. She snatched her gaze away from those entrancing green orbs and stepped quickly away, managing to laugh as she faced Nicholas with the trencher of sweetmeats. “What is your delight, Captain? A sweet confection?”

With thoughtful care Nicholas made his selection and consumed the morsel with his usual relish. After a moment he faced his host with a sly smile and raised his tankard. “Though yu may still grieve over yur loss of Arabella, my friend, I for one am most grateful that yur plans vent awry. Had they not, I vould never have known Elise, and that vould have been a great misfortune for me. As to yur folly, my friend, may it in time bring yu as much pleasure as it has brought me.”

Maxim lifted his cup in response and inclined his head briefly in acknowledgment of the toast. “May providence be kind to us all.”

Nicholas tossed down the wine in a single turn of his wrist and, setting aside the empty mug, sighed in what seemed smug pleasure. “As a matter of fact, providence has been most kind to me of late.” Drawing forth a small, wilted sprig of greenery from his pocket, he held it up and twirled it by the stem for their benefit. “Give heed, my friends, to vhat I managed to acquire from an Englishman visiting Hamburg.”

Elise moved closer, looking at the twig in curious wonder. “But what is it?”

“Mistletoe,” he answered simply.

Elise's bemusement was hardly sated by his matter-of-fact reply. “Whatever is it for?”

“A multitude of things, I've been told.” Having gained the curiosity of his companions, Nicholas made a show of tying a ribbon around the stem. Stepping onto a bench, he secured the colored band around a wooden beam, and arranged the sprig so it would hang free. Alighting from the perch with a broad grin, he folded his arms across his chest as he met the perplexed stares of the two. “The Druids claimed the mistletoe had great medicinal value, especially as a remedy for poisons.”

“The very idea, Nicholas!” Elise scolded, taking offense. “You cannot possibly be concerned with being poisoned here, especially after stuffing yourself on
Herr
Dietrich's cooking.”

“Not in the least,
vrouwelin,
” he assured her. He swept his hand upward toward the twig as he explained, “Actually, vhen one stands beneath it, the mistletoe can offer a most exhilarating experience.”

Elise moved beneath the sprig and eyed the captain with marked dubiety. “Are you sure you haven't
been taken in by a charlatan, Nicholas? I detect no change.”

“You'll not be disappointed,” Nicholas assured her. “Why, Pliny the Elder wrote of its benefits many long years ago.” He paused to ask in curiosity, “By chance, do you know of him?”

“Are you sure he even existed?” she countered with humor. “Perhaps his existence was as airy as his claims.”

Maxim strode forward leisurely. “Oh, the man lived all right . . . about fifteen hundred years ago. His adopted son was a consul of Rome around the turn of the first century.”

Nicholas acknowledged the other's reply by touching his fingers to his brow in a brief salute of admiration. “Yu know yur history vell, my friend.”

Maxim casually dismissed the compliment. “The letters of Pliny the Younger were often used by my tutors for an historical insight into Rome. Yet I must confess my lack of knowledge concerning the mistletoe. Surely if its merits were so enormous, they'd have been well-documented by now.”

Elise settled her arms akimbo in chiding amusement. “And then perhaps I would know what to expect.”

Nicholas approached her with a grin as he gave a reply. “How can yu know vhat to expect if yu've never experienced anything like it? ‘Tis understandable that truth gets bound up in superstition. The Druids have largely contributed to a great number of tales. For instance, a most pleasant custom of kissing under the mistletoe gave rise to the idea that such an occurrence leads inevitably to matrimony.
Vould yu give heed to such claims if I vere to kiss yu?” Giving her no chance to think upon his question, Nicholas took her into his arms and bent an avid kiss upon her lips, oblivious to Maxim who started forward in sharp displeasure, then caught himself. Releasing her, the captain met her astounded stare with a grin. “A most revarding experience for me, if not yu,
vrouwelin,
but vould yu consider that ve are now betrothed?”

Breaking away with an embarrassed blush, Elise crisply admonished, “Certainly not! I'm quite capable of making a decision of that sort on my own, without being duped or tricked into a trap . . . which you deliberately laid for me.”

Nicholas executed a flamboyant bow before her. “ ‘Tis a sweetmeat I can take to my pillow and dream of,
vrouwelin. Ja,
the hour grows late, so I must urge yu both to seek yur pallets if ve are to leave for Lubeck before dawn. Ve vill need our rest. I bid yu both
Gute Nacbt.

With a casual wave to Maxim, Nicholas strode across the hall and made a rapid ascent of the stairs. Shaking her head at the captain's antics, Elise watched his flight until she became aware of Maxim stepping close behind her. She held her breath as long, lean fingers slid along her arm, taking her elbow in a gentle but unyielding grasp. Her pulse quickened, and she turned to find Maxim regarding her with a strange and inscrutable smile.

“We must honor tradition, must we not?” he queried softly. With an upward glance, he drew her attention to where the mistletoe hung above their heads, and then his face lowered and his parting lips
moved upon hers in a slow, deliberate caress that denied her resistance and sapped the strength from her limbs. Her thoughts whirled in a reeling eddy, and evoked all the yearnings she had experienced once upon a time in his bed.

His mouth left hers, and Elise sighed as if coming out of a pleasurable dream. She opened her eyes and stared into the lean, handsome face so close above her own. It filled her vision, neither retreating nor advancing until she raised up on her toes and flung her arms tightly about his neck. Maxim was taken back by surprise, but the experience was immensely gratifying. The kiss that she gave him created a slowly mushrooming glow inside his head, having the same effect as a strong brew. His arms tightened about her narrow waist, and he tasted fully of her warmth and passion. He could feel her soft breasts pressed tightly against him and, beneath the fabric of her gown, the stiff ribbing of her stays as his fingers slid over her back

From somewhere near the hearth a loud “Humph!” was expelled with derisive contempt, and Elise snatched away from Maxim in sudden embarrassment. She had forgotten there were servants present to witness their kiss.

The green eyes swept coldly over a broad shoulder, picking out the offender.
Frau
Hanz felt the chilling coldness of Maxim's glare, while
Herr
Dietrich clucked his tongue in sharp disapproval of the housekeeper.

Gathering her dignity, Elise coolly directed her gaze toward the woman.
“Frau
Hanz, I've been somewhat disappointed in your performance here. I've made a list of things you should do while we're
away. Upon our return, I shall expect to see them completed. Otherwise, you'll have to find employment elsewhere.”

If
Frau
Hanz expected some word to come from the master of the keep that would demonstrate his authority and override the girl's order, she was to be greatly disappointed. By maintaining his silence, Maxim gave his approval to the ultimatum. Finding no help there, the woman faced the girl, her back rigidly bolstered by her pride. “Vhatever may be yur vish, mistress.”

“Then we understand each other,” Elise replied in a gracious tone. “Yet there's still a matter which needs be discussed.”

Frau
Hanz fixed the younger woman with a stony stare. “And vhat is that?”

“Your manners,” her mistress answered bluntly. “They're detestable.”

The stiffly sprung disposition of the woman remained intact as she sniffed haughtily. “I've always tried to conduct myself in a manner becoming my station, mistress. I'm sorry if yu've taken offense.”

Elise calmly met the housekeeper's frigid stare. “I would advise you to consider how you might improve upon them while we're away. If you refuse to see the need for such, we'll have to let you go.”

“Ve?”
Frau
Hanz bestowed a questioning stare upon the Marquess. “My lord, is this in agreement vith yu?”

He almost smiled. “Of course.”

“Vell!” The word came out in a huff. “I suppose if I've no other choice, I must comply vith the vishes of the mistress, else find myself discharged.”

“That would seem the case,
Frau
Hanz,” Maxim agreed.

Frau
Hanz inclined her head ever so slightly in acknowledgment of the directive. “If that is all, my lord, I should like to get back to my duties . . . so I might make myself of use.”

Maxim looked to Elise for approval, lending strength to her authority. She responded with a small dip of her head, acknowledging and appreciating his support.

Frau
Hanz went back to her labors, and it was hardly a moment later when she took out her spite on
Herr
Dietrich by sharply instructing him in his work. The man was not of a mind to take untutored criticism and the argument that ensued was both loud and demonstrative. Skillets and pots were slammed down amid hotly voiced exclamations shouted in the Teutonic tongue, and the portly man became so incensed that he pressed close to the woman and waggled his forefinger beneath her nose in a threatening manner.

“What have I done?” Elise lamented.

Maxim chuckled. “Never fear, madam.
Herr
Dietrich is capable of defending himself.”

“I hope so.” She heaved a rather dejected sigh. “It might be wise if I left now. I may be tempted to send
Frau
Hanz back to Hamburg on the morrow.”

“Think no more of her,” Maxim advised. “She'll have some time to think while we're away. If she shows no improvement by then, she'll be gone.”

“Then I'll bid you good night, my lord.” Elise smiled up into the warmly glowing green eyes. “I shall see you again ere the morn breaks.”

He honored her with a finely executed bow. “May the bliss of evening lull you gently to sleep, sweet maid.”

Several moments later Elise fell into bed with a dreamy sigh escaping her smiling lips, and she hugged the pillows close against her naked bosom, while memories evoked strange hungers in her loins. She had felt the bold caress of his mouth upon her breast, and ever since, the remembrance of the deed persisted in her mind, intruding into her thoughts even while she was with him or, more disturbingly, when they were with Nicholas. Whether or nay he sensed the reason for the blush that came into her cheeks, she could not say, but sometimes when he looked at her with those smoldering eyes, she was almost certain he was remembering the same event.

Her dreams were filled with fantasies and she found herself being swept up in strong, sturdy arms. At first a haze of confused visions swirled about her, and for a breathless moment the need to escape them pressed down upon her. She struggled in sinewy arms as a ruddy face and pale blue eyes filled her mind, then as if by a miracle the skin bronzed and the eyes darkened ever-so-wonderfully to a deep emerald green. Her heart soared as she waited for the kiss that would fill her with an ecstasy of bliss, and for parting lips to move upon hers in a questing search for an answer. The answer came, and though her mind meandered through the dark caverns of sleep, she knew what it was. Love had come stealing into her life, and she would never, ever be the same.

Chapter 16

F
LUFFY FLAKES DRIFTED
to earth in a soft, downy flight, nestling cozily on wide-spreading boughs of lofty evergreens and covering the hillocks and vales with mantles of white. Beside a gurgling, half frozen stream a russet-hued doe raised her dripping muzzle and tested the air with flaring nostrils. Her long ears flicked to and fro as a faint, distant tinkling invaded the hushed stillness of early morning. The tiny bells rang with silver clarity through the forest, forewarning the rapid approach of a foreign presence through the wilderness. A shout and the muffled drumming of massive hooves further attested to the intrusion, and the hind bounded off in a zigzagging flight through the trees, wary of this unwarranted invasion into her domain.

Soon a foursome of huge steeds entered the glade, drawing behind them a conveyance that closely resembled along, wooden box. Three more horses were tethered to the rear of the ornate sleigh, and the high, bold gait of Eddy kept easy pace with the matched four-in-hand. The blue, red-lined, hooded cloaks of the six horsemen who rode as escort brought flashes of color to the wintry shades of the forest. Their garb was typical of Captain Von Reijn's penchant for the ostentatious.

Indeed, Nicholas delighted himself in the game of impressing the maid, and no small attention had been given to detail in accomplishing that objective. He had commissioned the building of the luxurious vehicle to accommodate the travelers in grand style, using as a loose example a coach which the Earl of Arundel had introduced in England several years back. In summer the conveyance could be affixed with huge wheels or, as it was now in winter, with runners faced with iron straps to enable the contraption to glide easily through the snow or over the ice.

BOOK: So Worthy My Love
8.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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