Authors: Kathleen E. Woodiwiss
The interior was even more impressive. Ornately carved shutters could be either opened wide to catch the intoxicating breezes of the warmer months or closed against the frigid blasts which were wont to buffet the box in winter. To further muffle the drafts and hold out the chill of the wooden sides, velvet panels had been sheared on rods and hung within the interior. A wealth of small pillows and fur robes were strewn over the heavily cushioned seats, assuring a cozy and comfortable ride. Warming pans rested in brackets on the floor between the seats where the passengers could share and enjoy their heat.
Ever thoughtful of food and the accoutrements of dining, Nicholas had a small, collapsible table made that could be positioned between the seats when the need arose. For the combined pleasure of all he had brought along a wide variety of wines, while
Herr
Dietrich had stocked several baskets with sweet and succulent sustenance.
To be sure, whether in fine food, elaborate appointments, or rich attire Nicholas was never to
be outdone, not even by Elise who, after taking note of Maxim's rather austere chest, had felt almost extravagant in the inclusion of two of comparable size. However, the captain's four enormous, leather-bound cases, distinguishable by his initials emblazoned in the center of a filigreed shield, had done much to reassure her.
From the onset of the journey Nicholas had taken on the authority of host and arranged the seating to his advantage, placing himself beside Elise and designating the opposite seat for Maxim. The captain enjoyed his much-presumed claim on the maid and instructed her on the history of the Hanseatic League, beginning at its conception when a band of German merchants had united for the purpose of protecting themselves against lawless buccaneers and other miscreants. He continued on through three hundred or so years of the Hansa's growth, relating vivid stories of their powerful reign as merchant kings in foreign ports and on the high seas. More introspectively, he mused aloud on the weakening or closing down of their strongholds on the Thames, in Novgorod, and with the Danes, and grew pensive as he lent himself to questioning their future.
“At times,
vrouwelin,
I vonder if there is not the faintest stench of our forthcoming doom vafting on the breezes and ve are too proud to catch the scent of it.”
Sensing his decaying mood, Elise wiggled on the seat and stretched her slippered feet toward the warmth of the covered coal pans lying on the floor between the two seats. Sitting forward, she sought
to catch his downcast eye and drag him from his doldrums. “Tell me, Nicholas, are there ever any prisoners held for ransom by the Hansa?”
Nicholas leaned back in the seat. “We've taken hostages here and there, mainly for offenses against our league.” Growing suspicious, he raised his gaze and peered at her. “Do yu have someone in particular in mind?”
“Of course,” she answered readily. “My father made several trips to the Stilliards before he was kidnapped, and there was much speculation about the possibility of his seizure by members of the Hansa. I cannot help but wonder if some of those tales are true.”
“Usually ve are traders of goods,
vrouwelin,
not of men,” he replied.
Elise pressed him further, reluctant to be put off so easily. “ âTwas rumored that my father traded many of his treasures for Hansa gold. Would not the idea of a coffer full of gold be of interest to someone in the league?”
“Of course, there are always those who are seeking riches, but since I've heard no such tales myself and know of no one who has, I fear I cannot help yu . . . as much as I vould like to,
vrouwelin.
If I could somehow restore yur father to yu, I vould no doubt vin yur love forever, and that vould be a prize I vould greatly cherish.”
“Who would know then?” Elise persisted, ignoring his inclination to turn the conversation elsewhere. “Whom should I ask?”
The captain swept a hand toward Maxim, brushing her question off with a wayward grin. “Perhaps
my friend can assist yu in this matter. He has his spies.”
Maxim promptly raised his gaze and gave the man a highly skeptical look “Your humor escapes me, Nicholas. What spies do you speak of?”
“Vhy, Spence and Fitch, of course,” Nicholas answered jovially. “A pair of the most crafty, to be sure. Yu sent them to spy out Arabella, and they came back vith this jewel of a maid. If they vould do like favors for me in the future, I vould urge yu to send them out again on such an errand. Give them the task of finding Elise's father, and who knows vhat they'll bring back.”
“I dare not trust them again.” Maxim settled his shoulders in the corner of the seat and warmly considered his charge. “I'm still trying to straighten out my life after their first adventure, and I'm not sure I can handle another surprise of such magnitude.”
The corners of Elise's lips lifted enticingly. “Do I hear the laments of a coward, my lord?”
In challenging question, the green eyes fixed their, stare upon her and glowed with warmth. “And have I not a right to be? You nearly unmanned me, madam.”
A gently scoffing chuckle escaped Elise as she leaned back into the cushions. “You portray yourself as an innocent, but we all know you deserved every bit of it.”
“An arguable statement,” Maxim protested. “Indeed, I was certain my men had gone to the far ends of the earth to find such a gifted tormentor.” He raised his hand to indicate the beauty whose face radiated her happiness. “No ordinary maid, this, but
one well worthy of any game. Truly, I doubt that even Arabella could have created such stimulating diversions.”
Elise tossed her head in sudden perturbation and spoke before she thought. “Arabella is far too timid for a man liâ” Realizing how Maxim might interpret her statement, she halted in some confusion, not knowing how to finish. “I mean . . . you . . . ah . . .”
Maxim did not miss her hesitation and pounced on her words with eager delight. “A man like me? Is that what you were about to say?”
She busied herself by tucking a fur robe about her lap in an effort to draw his attention from her reddening cheeks. “I only meant that you seem so . . . ah . . . bold . . . at times.”
Maxim had held some qualms about the trip to Lubeck, knowing he would be sorely tested while Nicholas pressed his suit, but he saw in Elise's warming behavior some glimmer of hope for a much more pleasurable journey. “And do you think a bolder maid would be better suited to me?”
“Who am I to say, my lord?” She posed the question as if astounded by his inquiry. “I've known you only these few months past, certainly not long enough to give an accurate judgment.”
“Still!” He stressed the word, denying her attempt to escape his questioning. “You've formed an opinion, and I'm most interested in hearing your views. âTis apparent you think Arabella and I would not have made a proper match, but you don't say who would be a better choice for me.” He regarded her closely as he asked, “Would someone with your temperament be more appropriate?”
Elise opened her mouth to spurn his suggestion, but no words issued forth as she struggled with the denial. How could she disclaim what she felt?
“Nein, nein,”
Nicholas insisted, coming to her rescue. He was beginning to feel uneasy with the turn of conversation and her delay in answering. For many years he had witnessed a series of women from every realm and state in life settling their attention on Maxim. Whether the man had been aware of it or not, he had nevertheless stirred the hearts of many a maid. It would not be strange if the girl also became susceptible, and that was the matter that concerned him. “Yu are a man strong of mind and purpose, Maxim. A meek maid vould better serve yur needs and be submissive to yur dictates. Understandably Arabella vould have been the best choice for yu.”
“And what of you, Captain?” Elise queried, rather irked by his statement. How could he say that Arabella, an ambivalent and indecisive maid, who seemed void of any fervent emotions, would complement his lordship more than she? Oh, nay, Elise thought with surety, Maxim would be better suited to a fiery wench than any frail and fearful mouse. Thoughtfully she tilted her head as she contemplated the captain. “What sort of maid would be good for you, Captain? One of sweet temper and melancholy eyes?”
“The answer is obvious,
meine Liebchen,
” Nicholas replied, dropping a hand upon hers.
Maxim's brows raised sharply as he looked at Elise, but she did not dare meet his gaze. She was afraid he would see the discomfort she was presently
experiencing. She felt a painful chagrin for having ever encouraged Nicholas. Where once she had used his attentions to tweak Maxim's nose, she now only wanted to be friends and nothing more. Yet she was hesitant about broaching the subject and was most perplexed as to how she might wisely dissuade him, for he seemed most intent on courting her.
Maxim wedged his shoulders deeper into the corner and directed a stony stare out the window. His mood had definitely darkened, and though he observed the passing countryside, his mind churned in a continual turmoil of conflicts. For many years Nicholas had been his friend, but this rivalry that was growing by leaps and bounds between them could well endanger their longstanding camaraderie. He wanted to see Elise cool the captain's ardor, as much to break the shackles of this damnable reticence he found himself bound by, as to banish that foul, green viper, Jealousy. That loathsome serpent raised its ugly head every time the man approached her, and Maxim found it hard to suffer in silent agony as the sharp fangs sank ever deeper.
The travelers paused at the noon hour to give the horses a rest and to take nourishment from a well-supplied larder. A fire was built in a sheltered glade, and after a brief stroll to stretch their limbs, the drivers and guards settled near the warmth of the flames to appease their hunger while their captain and his guests enjoyed a more private repast in the conveyance.
âTwas shortly after the meal when Nicholas excused himself and strolled off into the woods to
clear his head, having liberally imbibed from a flagon of wine. In his absence Maxim openly watched Elise until she could no longer ignore his unwavering stare. “My lord? Have I grown warts of a sudden?”
“There's a matter which has troubled me overmuch of late, madam,” he informed her bluntly. “And I would have it out.”
Elise's curiosity was greatly piqued. There was an intensity in those fiery green brands that clearly conveyed the depth of his concern. “You have my leave to speak of whatever plagues you, my lord. Have I done aught to offend you?”
Though Maxim had mulled the words over in his mind, he plunged ahead with the recklessness of an impatient suitor and answered in a sharper tone than he had intended. “The only offense I must contend with is your delay in telling Nicholas that you're not in love with him.”
Elise stared at him aghast, astounded by his attack “My lord, you speak boldly of a matter which has seemed to amuse you in the past. How is it that you know my emotions ere I express them?”
“As I've already explained, madam, I'm a man well-primed to take a woman to wife . . .”
“Any woman, my lord?” she queried, but the sweetness of her tone only enhanced her portrayal of the skepticism she felt. He had already stated that after losing Arabella, it did not matter what wife he took for his own.
Ignoring her jibe, Maxim pressed on. “I would know if I'm a fool.”
“Have I the ability to reassure you that you're not?”
“Aye, madam! You do! By telling me that I have not imagined what your kisses say to me. You play with me as a woman tempted with desires of her own, and I move ever closer to that time when I shall break the bonds of restraint and take you to my bed. If you don't intend for this to happen, whether as my mistress or as my wife, then give me the word now and I will make no further demands that you talk with Nicholas. For mercy's sake, don't lead me on like you do him.”
“And what of Arabella, my lord?” Elise dared to remind him of his once-professed love. “Have you no lingering fondness for her?”
Maxim leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees as he spoke intently. “She's nothing more than a vague memory. Truly, her face has become obscure in my mind. Now I see only yours.”
Elise's heart warmed, and her elation would have caught her up in a whirlwind of bliss and swept her on to immeasurable heights, but she was cautious. He had not spoken of love, only of desire, and that was not sufficient. She wanted his heart, his mind, and his passion for herself alone and would not be content if she had to share his love with another woman. “It could be nothing more than a passing fancy, my lord,” she chided. “Here today, gone come the morrow.”
“I'm no fickle youth, madam,” he avowed sharply. “I know my mind.”
“But do you know your heart?” she argued. “You were so positive you were in love with Arabella, and now you say she's all but forgotten. Can you pledge a troth to me that I'd be of greater worth to you in years to come?”
“Madam, you have no ken of my thoughts, what my feelings were toward Arabella.”
“What are you saying? That you were not in love with Arabella?”
There was a reluctance in him to answer her prodding, for it would only make him seem more of a villain in her eyes. He chose his words carefully. “I've an aversion to anyone taking what belongs to me by force. When I look back upon my anger toward Edward, it comes to my mind that I meant to avenge myself more than anything else.”
His answer heightened Elise's curiosity. “That was not what you told me before. Indeed, I was sure your love for Arabella was the cause for my abduction.”
Maxim cursed beneath his breath. This damnable arguing was chafing sorely on his patience. He wanted her, and he was frustrated because she refused to believe him. He tried another approach, one of reason. “Madam, I'm offering to give you my protection and my name, such as it is. Would it not be a logical decision for us to marry? After all, I arranged for your abduction and, in so doing, have compromised your name and reputation.”