So Worthy My Love (46 page)

“But where are we going?” she queried eagerly.

Maxim folded his hands behind her waist and, tilting his head to the side, contemplated her a long moment before he countered with a question of his own. “What if I told you I was taking you to a place where you will have to make a choice?”

Elise was as curious as a little child. “What kind of choice?”

“That, fair maid, you shall know soon enough.” He lowered his lips to hers and leisurely savored the sweetness of her response. The kiss quickly warmed in intensity and could have easily led to other pleasures, but he drew back with a sigh, regretting that time and wisdom denied the opportunity. “If we stay much longer,” he murmured, pressing another kiss upon her mouth, “I'll lock the doors and have my way with you.”

Gently she laid the back of her fingers alongside his cheek “You'll find me most willing, my lord I'm looking forward to the day the nuptials will be spoken and I'll be your wife in truth.”

“ ‘Twill be a fair day indeed,” he whispered. “Though the winds may frost your fingers and redden your nose this day, we shall enjoy our hours together.” With a smile he set her from him. “Now fetch your wrap, my love, and let's be off ere I carry out my threat.”

With his help Elise donned the fur-lined cloak given to her on the sea voyage and tucked her hand within the security of his arm as he led her from the room and down the stairs. As they descended she felt the pride of being at his side. Even when casually attired Maxim was a most handsome man, of that fact there could be no dispute, but this morning he was garbed in fine apparel: a taupe velvet doublet, puffed trunk hose of the same hue, and a rich burgundy chamarre lavishly embroidered with gold threads around the high, stiff collar. The scrolled design of the elaborate needlework broadened as it traced down the front and around the hem. The garment was lined with fur and rivaled any Nicholas had ever sported.

Therese stood at the front door to bid them farewell, and though her smile was kindly, the small, worried frown that flitted across her brow gave an indication of her concern. “Take yu care on the streets not to get lost.”

Sensing that her anxieties were born in areas other than what her words conveyed, Maxim took the aged hands within his and smiled down into the pale blue eyes rimmed by wrinkled lids and a thin smattering of pale lashes. “You needn't worry,
Frau
Von Reijn. I have a care for Nicholas, too.”

Her head, crowned with bands of pale, yellow-white braids and wispy tendrils, slowly nodded, as if accepting the true meaning of what he said. In what seemed like acquiescent resignation, she clasped her hands together before her waist and watched them depart.

The horses were saddled and waiting, and Maxim lifted Elise to the back of her mount before
carefully tucking her cloak around her. Swinging up on Eddy, he reined the stallion close to the mare, and together they set off on a leisurely jaunt down the cobbled thoroughfare.

The day was brisk and cold with a wintry wind that rushed through the city, stirring the crisp air and bringing a rosy bloom to Elise's cheeks. It was some time later when they halted outside a modest church and Maxim swung down from his mount. Bidding Elise to wait, he entered the structure and returned a short moment later. Sweeping off his toque, he halted beside her mount, seeming as hesitant as a young had with his first love.

“Elise . . .” The name came from his lips in a yearning whisper, as if he found the matter too difficult to address.

“What is it, Maxim?” She was sweetly attentive, watching him with adoring eyes.

“Last eventide . . . I asked you if you would give me answer . . . and to my everlasting pleasure, you said yea.” He turned the hat in his gloved hands and, for a moment, seemed uncertain. “Elise, I would know now if you did speak true . . . for I have waiting inside a man of the cloth who has consented to marry us this very moment . . . if you will but agree.”

Wonderment filled her at his manner. Maxim was so strong and manly, always so self-assured, she would never have guessed he could ever show such incertitude with her, especially when she had already given him a reply. Perhaps their union meant more to him than she had realized.

A growing smile gave him her answer, and Elise reached out her hands to lay on his broad shoulders,
encouraging him to lift her from her mount. Taking her in his arms, Maxim held her close against him, as if relishing the moment and the light of love he saw in her eyes, then joy came and swept them along with it. He set her to her feet and caught her hand. Elise laughed as they dashed into the church and responded warmly when Maxim paused to press an ardent kiss upon her lips. Smiling into her eyes, he led her into a small rectory where a monk gave them a jovial greeting before heading them to a spartan chapel.

Elise followed, oblivious to the sights, the sounds, and the smells that were not a part of them, and yet completely aware of everything that transpired between them and even more mindful of the man who knelt beside her. As the vows were exchanged, binding them together, his long, brown fingers clasped hers in an unspoken communication of commitment. In fascination she observed the play of knuckles, bone, and muscle across the back of his hand where golden hairs gleamed with the sheen of the soft candlelight. Her own hand looked pale and small within his, and there she silently vowed it would rest as a symbol of her trust.

The priest announced them one and presented a parchment for them to sign. Elise stood close as Maxim took quill in hand and scrawled his name boldly across the piece. Perhaps it was the budding realization that he was now her husband that made the moment seem so wonderful and yet so excitingly strange. When she thought back on the circumstances that had brought about this event, she could hardly believe they were now wed. Once, she had been certain that she hated him.

“If ever I should return to England,” Elise whispered close against his shoulder, “I shall have to speak with the Queen. She does not judge a man rightly if she declared you guilty of all the crimes laid against you.”

The rosy glow in her face conveyed her confidence in him and in her future with him. Perhaps he had been selfish to take her to wife when so many things were as yet uncertain, but he could not chance losing her. Indeed, Nicholas's increasingly zealous courtship had brought home to him just how much he wanted her for his own. “The thought comes to mind, madam, that Elizabeth would tell you that you are blind to your husband's faults.”

Elise answered with puckish spirit. “I shall instruct her differently, I think. Indeed! My father earned some merits attending the Queen's duties. Should she not in turn give an ear to the daughter of one of her loyal subjects?”

Maxim laid an arm about his bride's shoulders and brought her close against his side. “She should indeed, my love, and I believe you are just the one to tell her.”

He moved aside, allowing her space at the tall desk to accomplish the signing of the parchment. The letters flowed gracefully from the tip of the quill and ended in a flamboyant flourish, giving evidence of her elation. Their eyes melded, and so intent were they upon the other, they hardly noticed when the monk sprinkled sand across the drying ink and took the documents away. They were lost in a world of their own as Maxim lowered his lips to hers and sealed their vows with a kiss.

Farewells and words of gratitude were spoken before they took their leave. A blustery wind whipped their cloaks and snatched their breath with its crisp chill as they ran from the church. Maxim swept his young bride into the saddle and then snugged the fur-lined wrap close about her as he spoke.

“There's an inn nearby where we might dine”—a slow grin curved his lips upward as he continued— “and pass a few moments alone together.”

Elise smiled through a blush, unable to find an appropriate reply while her heart quickened with a new excitement. The opportunity to be alone had seemed so far away, she had not dared to hope for even a few moments of privacy while in Lubeck, but then, she should have known that Maxim would make the time happen. He was just that sort of man.

Some moments later they entered a small, but neat, establishment a short distance away, where Maxim made inquiries for a room. The innkeeper was somewhat in awe of his wealthily garbed guests and begged a moment to prepare suitable chambers. A serving maid hurried to place a proper meal upon the table Maxim indicated. It was a small trestle table set between rough-hewn benches with tall, solid backs that protected them from the curious stares of the other patrons.

“To our marriage,” he whispered as he lifted his goblet of wine in toast.

With a glowing smile Elise raised her glass and entwined her arm with his. “May it be nurtured by love . . .”

“And many children,” he added softly.

Staring into the eyes of the other, each sipped the wine and ended the salute with a long, slow kiss. Maxim sighed as he pulled away slightly. “I'm impatient to make you my wife in truth.”

“Only a few moments more,” she breathed with a warming blush.

“When each moment seems like a year, my lady, ‘tis hard to wait.”

“My lady?” Elise marveled at the sound of the address.

“Yea,” Maxim affirmed in a whisper, squeezing her fingers. “Lady Elise Seymour and, should ever I regain my title, the most lovely Marchioness of Bradbury. Until then”—he brought her hand to his lips—“my love.”

Her cheeks brightened with a fresh glow of color. “ ‘Tis the last I prefer above all others, my lord . . . to be your love . . .” Tentatively she tried out the title. “ . . . my lord and my husband.” Her eyes drank their fill of his handsome features. “Never did I dream when I was snatched so rudely from England that I would come to bless that day.”

Maxim gave her a wayward grin. “Never did I imagine when you dumped that pail of icy water on me that I would come to be thankful you were taken instead of Arabella. An overwhelming desire to lay my hand boldly to your bare backside was not born of lust that morn, my love, but rather another kind of passion, the sort that yearns for vengeance.”

With sparkling eyes Elise reached up to press a kiss upon his lips. “ ‘Twas only your just due, my lord,” she teased. “Your plan to capture Arabella was not of a gallant mien.”

“ ‘Twould seem that a far wiser hand than mine guided the events of that night.”

“To think I once hated you,” she sighed.

“And now what think you of me, fair maid?”

“I think, my lord,” she murmured, “that I have grown very fond of you.”

“Fond of me?” Maxim peered at her dubiously. “Is that what I've seen in your eyes, or is it something more? What other passion beats within your breast, my lady? Shall I test it?” Beneath the covering of her cloak, he laid a hand boldly high upon her thigh and then cocked a brow at her in quizzical skepticism. “Like other men, madam, I'm completely mystified at the lengths a woman will go to hide those parts which would nourish a lusting eye and a roaming hand. Here I am a husband newly wed, well-warmed, and most willing, and I find my wife bound up in far too many petticoats and farthingales.”

Elise laughed softly and looked up into his gleaming eyes. She could not even tease him by pressing a breast against his arm, for the stiff corset restrained her curves too well. “Perhaps you should confine your rutting lusts to our marriage bed and restrain yourself from fondling me in public?”

Maxim brushed her nose with the tip of his finger and grinned. “You've many things to learn from your husband, my lady, and one of those is his desire to handle you when the moment is ripe. The bed is most convenient, but there are other places where bliss may be found. For instance”—his lips replaced his finger to bestow a kiss upon her brow—“I have visions of making love to you
beneath the wide-spreading limbs of a tree with your eyes giving back to me the blue of the sky.”

Her burgeoning emotions were softly displayed in her eyes now as she gazed at him with all the adoration of a woman in love. “My lord, I would welcome your attentions in whatever hovel, castle, or field we may find ourselves in. And as you have guessed, I have grown more than fond of you. Indeed, my lord, I have fallen in love and to such a degree that my heart would surely break should you ever cast me aside.”

His thin fingers brought her hand to his lips for a kiss. “Never fear, my love. That time will never come.”

The front door burst open, aided by a gust of wind, and Maxim leaned forward to peer around the solid back of the bench as a heavy stomping of boots near the portal gave a good imitation of an invasion. Though there was a small crowd of men there, he saw only the one who stood in the fore.

“So! There yu are!” Nicholas's booming voice filled the confines of the room, making Elise almost choke on her wine. Though she could not see around Maxim or beyond their own small nook, she clasped a handkerchief to her mouth in horror and stared at her husband as he leaned back and breathed an angry curse.

“How did he find us?” she whispered frantically.

“I don't know,” Maxim growled through gritted teeth.

Nicholas paused to doff his cloak and gloves and to hang the larger garment on a peg, then strode forward with great gusto. As if in response to Elise's
question, he chortled. “That great oafish Eddy vas refusing to be led into the livery as I passed the inn, and I thought to myself, ‘Ah ha! My friend is taking a few victuals. I vill join him and relieve his loneliness . . . ‘”

Elise wanted to sink below the table as she heard his footsteps halt beside them, and for a brief passing moment she could not find the courage to raise her gaze to his. She wished she had had the presence of mind to slide away from Maxim to lessen the shock of their discovery, but it was too late to think of what she should have done. It was enough for her to find the resolve to meet those flaring blue eyes.