Heart of Honor (18 page)

“Yes, perhaps they would.” A tremor of excitement slipped through her. “If you did that, you could stay here in England, Leif. You could stay in London and build up your business. You would have to sail home on occasion, of course, to collect more merchandise, but—”

“My home must be there. I have a duty to my father and my clan. One day I will be chieftain.”

She slumped back against the seat, her heart pinching painfully. Leif reached out and caught her hand. “Do not look so sad. As you say, once I have a ship we can come back here and visit. You will be able to see your father and your friends, and in time you will make friends in your new home.”

Krista looked over at Leif. She had known this conversation would have to come, but she had hoped to postpone it, to bask a little longer in the glow of their lovemaking.

“I know you would like for me to go with you, and you will never know how much that means to me. But I can’t go, Leif. My home is here in England. What happened between us last night didn’t change that.”

His golden eyebrows crashed together like clouds gathering for a storm. “Everything has changed. Last night you gifted me with your virgin’s blood. You are mine now, as the gods have decreed. I will speak to your father and you will return with me to Draugr as my wife.”

Krista shook her head. “I can’t go. I have a business to run. My father needs me and so does my family. I have responsibilities here just as you have there. I tried to tell you that—I tried to make you see.”

His jaw hardened. “I see but one thing. If you do not mean to wed with me, then you have played the whore. Why, Krista? Why would you give yourself to me and then refuse to wed me?”

“Because I wanted you! Just as you said you wanted me!”

“Do you want me still?” His eyes locked with hers, so blue and intense her heart twisted hard inside her. “The truth, Krista.”

“God help me, yes!”

“Then there will be no more discussion. I claimed you as my wife when I spread you beneath me and drove myself into your maiden’s body. My wife is what you shall be.”

Her temper heated. She wanted him, yes. In truth, she was in love with him. It didn’t matter.

“You don’t own me, Leif Draugr, no matter what your gods have to say. And I won’t marry you! I cannot!”

Leif said nothing more, but a muscle tightened in his jaw. Crossing his arms over his massive chest, he turned away from her to stare out the window. Krista silently fumed. She was in love with the big, overbearing brute. Even now, just looking at him made her body clench with desire for him.

A lump rose in her throat.

She loved him, but she could not marry him.

Dear God, what was she going to do?

Another hour passed before they finally reached her town house. The storm last night had left the road even muddier and more difficult to travel, and the return to London took longer than it usually did.

Krista found her father waiting for them in the drawing room, worriedly pacing the Persian carpet. He turned at her approach. “Krista! Dearling, thank heaven you are safe!”

She hurried toward him, went into his arms. Leif walked in behind her, still angry, she knew. After what they had done last night, he expected her to marry him. She prayed he wouldn’t say anything to her father.

“I’m so sorry,” she said now. “I knew you would be worried. The wheel broke on our carriage and we had to stay overnight at an inn so that Mr. Skinner could have it fixed this morning. We left as soon as we could.”

“I confess I was worried sick. After what happened that night in the alley, then that awful fire at the
Beacon…
”

“Yes, I know. We tried to get home, then the wheel broke and there was simply no choice but to stay.”

No choice.
She tried not to remember the trouble those words had caused last night. She looked up to see Leif’s intense blue eyes boring into her, and knew he was thinking that, too.

Krista forced herself to smile. “At any rate, we are safely returned and none the worse for wear.” Except that she was no longer a virgin and she couldn’t tell if Leif would rather strangle her or tear off her clothes and make love to her again.

Her pulse leaped at the thought, and inwardly she groaned. What a mess she had made of things. She wished her friend Coralee were there. Perhaps between the two of them, they could figure out what to do.

“So how did your meeting with Mr. Harding turn out?” her father asked, guiding her toward the sofa in the drawing room.

“It was quite a disaster, I’m afraid.”

“Is that so? Why don’t I ring for tea and you and Leif can tell me all about it.”

“Aye, Krista,” Leif interjected from the doorway. “Why don’t we do that? You can tell your father what happened with Harding and I can tell him what happened on our way home.”

Krista’s whole body tightened.
Surely he wouldn’t.
But when she looked up at him, the hard line of his jaw said that he would, indeed. She bit her lip, which had started to tremble, and silently beseeched him to keep his silence. He must have read her plea and granted mercy, for he released a long-suffering sigh.

“I will have to miss the tea. I need to practice awhile. I am going back to Crockford’s tonight.”

Krista watched him walk away, but it wasn’t until he disappeared that her heartbeat returned to normal.

Leif gambled that night and the next, and every night that week. When an invitation arrived from Lord and Lady Wimby to a house party at the viscount’s exclusive town mansion, he pressed Krista to accept.

“Lady Wimby is a very big gambler,” he said. “There is always gaming at her parties.”

Krista didn’t have to ask how he knew. He was becoming a player of some renown, and his size and astonishing good looks made him all too popular with the ladies. She tried not to be jealous when invitations began flooding in.

“Women love him,” Coralee confided one afternoon while they were at work. “Not much of a surprise, I suppose, when you look at him.”

Krista ignored a trickle of jealousy. “Are you speaking of the women who gamble at Crockford’s?”

“Well, yes. The place is a favorite of the fashionable elite. Sooner or later, most everyone goes there. The ladies say he’s an Original.”

“That is certainly an understatement. One never knows what Leif will say, only that it will probably be the very blunt truth.”

“Leif is a Viking. People may not know, but the women seem to sense that he is different. He is virile and lusty and he makes no bones about it. They call him ‘a rare, manly man.’”

Krista rolled her eyes, but of course it was the truth. She remembered his scorching kisses, the moist heat of his mouth on her breasts, his hands stroking boldly between her legs.

“You are blushing,” Corrie said, one of her russet eyebrows arching up. “I am afraid to guess why that might be.”

“Yes, well, it would be better if you didn’t try.”

“Krista…”

“I am going back to work. I need to finish the article I am writing about Cutter Harding and the conditions at his factory, and I believe you also have a bit of work to do.”

Coralee just smiled. “I will humor you for a while, but remember it is my job to ferret out interesting bits of information. And I have a feeling this information is extremely interesting, indeed.”

Refusing to rise to the bait, Krista turned and set off for her office, determined to finish the article on the deplorable working conditions at the textile factory. She had already reported Harding’s child labor abuses to the authorities, but she wasn’t sure how much good it had done. The gazette was her best means of helping the workers’ plight.

Krista sat down at her desk and tried to organize her thoughts, but her mind strayed instead toward week’s end. Corrie had agreed to accompany Leif, Krista and her father to Lord Wimby’s house party on Saturday night.

Krista knew Leif intended to gamble.

She prayed he wouldn’t win enough money to buy his blasted ship.

T
he mansion overflowed with guests. Great urns of roses and chrysanthemums decorated the entry and drawing rooms, the ballroom upstairs and the gaming room down the hall. Diana Cormack, Viscountess Wimby, surveyed her surroundings and smiled, pleased the affair was progressing so splendidly.

As soon as she and Arthur had finished greeting their guests, Diana made her way down the hall to the card room, where she preferred to spend most of the evening. She stood there now, beneath the molded ceiling next to a potted palm, drinking champagne with her best friend, Caroline Burrows, Countess of Brentford, watching a small group conversing near the card tables.

She opened her black feathered fan, a perfect compliment to her black feathered headdress and gold, black-trimmed gown.

“You are staring,” Caroline said.

“I can’t help it. The man is utterly magnificent.” Her gaze ran over the big blond giant with the stunning blue eyes in his perfectly fitted black evening clothes. He played cards as he seemed to do everything else, with intense concentration. Diana had rarely won against him, had, in fact, lost twenty thousand pounds to him in deep play at Crockford’s last night.

She smiled. It was almost worth it, just to sit at the table and feel those blue eyes occasionally drifting over her breasts. It was clear he read her unspoken invitation, also clear he didn’t intend to accept it. “What I wouldn’t give…”

Caroline smiled. “Yes, well, odds are it isn’t going to happen.” Caro and Diana were of an age, both married to much older men. While Diana was dark-haired and full busted, Caroline was blond, blue-eyed and slender. Both were discreet in taking lovers, yet only their husbands seemed unaware of their occasional forays outside the marriage bed. “I don’t believe I have ever seen a man quite so…so…”

“Extraordinarily male?”

Caro laughed. “Exactly. Aside from that, no one seems to know much about him.” Her gaze ran over his magnificent physique, handsome face and amazing blue eyes. “He is rather a mysterious sort.”

“The only thing I know is that he is a friend of Sir Paxton’s, from Norway. There is actually a rumor going round that he is some kind of Scandinavian prince.”

“Well, he certainly looks like one.” A feline smile curved Caro’s lips. She leaned closer. “Gossip also has it Leticia Morgan made a very good try at getting him into her bed.”

Diana’s dark eyebrows went up. “Knowing Leticia, I am not surprised.”

“I heard she approached him at Crockford’s, told him her husband was spending the next few weeks in the country and invited him back to her house.”

“What happened?”

“Apparently, he said something to the effect that it was clear she was in need of a good, hard swiving, but at present he was otherwise occupied.”

“Oh, dear God.” Both women giggled like schoolgirls. Diana took a sip of her champagne, trying to cool the heat in her cheeks. “He said he was occupied?”

“He did, indeed.”

“Occupied with whom, I wonder.”

“The man simply oozes virility. I cannot imagine him denying himself female comfort when it is so readily available to him.”

Diana ran a finger around the rim of her champagne glass. “He seems to have very few acquaintances. I’ve rarely seen him with anyone but Professor Hart and his daughter.”

Caroline’s blond eyebrows went up. Her expression turned shrewd. “Now that you mention it, he and Miss Hart do make rather a stunning pair.”

Diana pondered that. “Krista was always a very pretty young woman. I assumed it was her looks that attracted Matthew—beyond her very substantial dowry, of course—but personally, I thought her too tall and a bit too robust to be truly appealing. As I look at her next to Draugr, she seems…Well, she looks quite beautiful.”

“Perhaps Matthew saw what the rest of us missed. She’s really quite stunning, isn’t she?” Caroline studied the group that included Leif Draugr, Coralee Whitmore, Krista and her father. “You don’t suppose…?”

“As you say, the man is so potently male it is difficult to believe he denies himself.” She smiled. “Time will tell, I daresay. The truth always has a way of leaking out.”

They watched Leif excuse himself, cross the room and take a seat at one of the gaming tables. A few hands were played, and minutes later, Lord Elgin tossed in his cards and rose to leave.

Caroline set her empty champagne glass on a passing waiter’s silver tray. “It seems another seat has opened up. I believe I shall join the game.”

Diana watched her friend walk away. “Good luck,” she called after her. The countess wasn’t nearly as good a player as Diana, even worse when she was distracted by a handsome face. Caro’s husband had even more money than Diana’s, however, and her friend didn’t mind spending it in whatever manner she pleased.

Diana laughed to think how many thousands of pounds Leif Draugr might take home with him tonight.

Krista watched Leif’s single-minded play, watched his stack of winnings pile up in front of him.

“Leif is one of the best players I’ve ever seen,” her father said with a touch of pride. “He has the most incredible memory. It is invaluable in games of chance like the one she has been playing.”

“He is certainly very good,” Corrie agreed.

Krista made no reply. She didn’t want to think of the endless stream of money Leif kept winning, didn’t want him to win enough to buy his infernal ship.

A shadow fell over the group as one of the guests walked up to join them. “I see your friend has yet to leave town.”

Krista turned, recognizing the familiar male voice as belonging to Matthew Carlton. Her gaze settled on the tall man she hadn’t seen since the day of his duel with Leif.

“Matthew, my boy!” her father said, beaming at the arrival of one of his favorite young men. “It is good to see you!”

“You, as well, Professor.” Matthew’s dark gaze swung to her and Coralee. “Krista. Miss Whitmore.”

Corrie nodded and made an appropriate reply.

Krista forced herself to smile. “It’s nice to see you, Matthew.”

“You look lovely tonight, Krista.” The words surprised her. He had never been much on compliments before. She wondered at the change. “Thank you.”

“I read your article on Harding Textiles. It was very well written, though you have certainly made an enemy in Cutter Harding.”

“The truth is the truth, no matter how you might wish to disguise it.”

“As I said, it was very well done.”

“Thank you,” she said again, and Matthew smiled. She had never thought him particularly charming, but as he made conversation with Corrie and her father, charm practically oozed from his pores. He took her hand, urged her a few steps away. Reluctantly, she followed.

“It’s been too long, darling. I’ve missed you, Krista. I was rather hoping you might have missed me.”

She eased her hand from his and carefully worded her reply. “We were friends, Matthew. I miss our friendship.”

“There was a time we were more than just friends. We were engaged to marry, Krista.”

“I know, Matthew, but—”

“Are you in love with him?”

The question took her by surprise and her cheeks warmed. “I don’t…don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

She took a steadying breath, let it out slowly. “He is going home, Matthew. It is only a matter of time. Whatever I feel for him, I won’t be going with him.”

“Are you certain?”

“Quite certain.”

Matthew seemed to relax. “Then, for the present, I shall indulge your infatuation and hope that in time you will once again see reason.”

She wasn’t sure quite what to say. “It is difficult to predict the future, Matthew.” But she didn’t really dissuade him. She would have to wed. Yesterday, she had received a letter from her grandfather. News of her broken engagement had finally reached the earl and he was furious. So angry, in fact, he was planning to travel to London from his country estate in Kent. He intended to “set down the law,” his letter said. She would “do her duty or else.”

She had no idea what measures he planned to take, but it really didn’t matter. She had a responsibility to her family, and sooner or later she would have to see it done.

And the hard truth was, once Leif was gone, she didn’t really care which man she married. Their union would merely be an alliance, a loveless match for the benefit of both parties. She was no longer a virgin, but the size of her dowry should compensate for that.

Matthew Carlton was still interested…

He took her hand, brought her gloved fingers to his lips. “We’ll talk again, soon.”

“There is no need for talk,” said a deep voice from behind her. “Krista is not for you.”

Matthew’s features tightened. “I guess we will have to wait and see.”

“Leif, please,” Krista murmured, hoping to prevent a scene.

Leif cast her a look that could have frozen stones.

Matthew bowed deeply. “I’m afraid you will have to excuse me. Of a sudden, the air grows close in here.” Turning away from them, he headed for the door of the drawing room, and she returned her attention to Leif.

“That was hardly necessary. The man was only making conversation.”

“You are mine,” Leif said. “If you cannot remember, I will make it clear to every man in the room.”

Her eyes widened. “You…you are being ridiculous. Matthew was merely being polite.”

The edge of Leif’s mouth barely curved. “I will be polite to you when we get home. All you need do is leave your door unlocked.”

Her face went crimson. Worse yet, her pulse kicked into gear. A sliver of heat tugged low in her belly and her nipples tightened inside her gown.

“Do not say such things,” she whispered. “I cannot do that and you know it.”

His look turned to one of amusement. “More’s the pity.”

Krista bit back a laugh, easing some of the tension between them. “Good heavens, you’re sounding more British every day.”

He only smiled.

He was still smiling when he returned to the gaming table. By the end of the evening, he had set a new record among the fashionable elite for winnings in a single night.

By morning, when he set off for the harbor to investigate the purchase of a ship, Krista knew he was about to break her heart.

Leif was no longer welcome at Crockford’s. The customers were beginning to complain of their losses, and he was quietly asked not to return. He played at several other places, including an even more elegant gaming club called 50 St. James. Last night he’d accepted an invitation to a private card party at the home of Alexander Cain, a gambler whose past was nearly as mysterious as Leif’s own.

Alex Cain was one of the best players in London, a fact confirmed by Leif’s meager winnings that night. The play had been close and deep, and by the time Leif left Cain’s town house, he felt blessed that his modest fortune remained mostly intact.

One good thing had come of the evening. He and Cain had developed a certain respect for each other. Like Leif, the man kept his personal life private, but Cain was also a very shrewd businessman, and one of his more successful endeavors was a partnership with wealthy shipping owner Dylan Villard, in a company called Continental Shipping.

“I hear you’re in the market for a ship,” Cain said to Leif casually as the men sat in his study, drinking brandy and smoking cigars—a vice Leif had recently discovered he enjoyed on occasion.

“I intend to do some trading,” Leif said. “I need a vessel that is easy to handle, one that requires a very small crew. In time, I hope to expand, but for now, that is what I’m looking for.”

“Let me talk to Dylan, see if he might know something suitable that could be for sale.”

“I will need to hire a captain and crew, men willing to be gone for at least a year. Men who know how to hold their tongues.”

Cain swirled the brandy in his glass. “Interesting…” He was taller than most Englishmen, with brown hair and intelligent green eyes. “But then, Draugr, you strike me as a very interesting man.”

Leif just smiled. He liked Alex Cain. So did the women, Leif knew, though Cain seemed to have little use for them outside of his bed. Alex Cain was a man with his own set of secrets, and yet Leif sensed that he could be trusted.

Within the week, Cain had set up appointments to look at three different ships: a brigantine, a refitted sailing packet that had once carried passengers along the coast and a sixty-foot, square-topsail schooner.

The schooner suited Leif perfectly.

It was a beautiful ship, nothing at all like the vessel he and the men of Draugr had built from sea-washed timbers, but sleek and well-crafted, with a pair of fine spruce masts. Here vessels had names, and this one was called the
Lily Belle.
As a surprise to Leif, Cain changed the name to
Sea Dragon,
which he had painted on the stern in red letters.

When Leif read the words, his eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“Know what?” Cain asked, his shrewd eyes probing.