Heart of Honor (25 page)

Her wrists were not tightly bound, she realized, and a single tug set her free. Leif moved above her, positioned himself and entered her with a single deep thrust. Krista moaned at a fresh wave of heat and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You are mine,” he said. “This you must see.”

He kissed her and she kissed him back, and as they moved together, as he took her with deep, penetrating strokes that seemed to reach her very soul, she thought that perhaps he was right.

That she was the one who was wrong and that her destiny lay not in England but here on the island with Leif.

I
t was late afternoon on a brisk fall day, the wind whipping orange and yellow leaves along the London streets. In the fashionable Mayfair district, Coralee Whitmore’s coach drew up in front of Krista’s two-story brick town house, and a footman pulled open the carriage door.

“We’re arrived, miss.”

“So I see.” She took the servant’s gloved hand and let him help her down the iron stairs, then he followed her up the brick walkway to the door. The footman rapped the lion’s-head knocker once, then again, and the carved wooden door swung open.

The butler, Giles, recognized her immediately, and his wrinkled face lit in a smile. “Miss Whitmore. A pleasure to see you. Please do come in.”

“I was hoping I might speak to Professor Hart. Is there a chance he is in?”

The butler’s bushy silver eyebrows drew together. “He is at home, miss. He has scarcely left the house since the day of Miss Krista’s disappearance.”

“I was afraid of that. Where is he?”

“In his study, miss. I’ll let him know you are here.” The butler started down the hall, his posture, as always, perfectly erect, and Coralee fell in behind him. Giles announced her arrival, and at the professor’s invitation, she walked into the wood-paneled, book-lined room.

She had thought to find the professor at work behind his desk, as he was nearly every time she saw him. Instead, she was surprised to see him seated in a chair in front of the window, staring out into the garden, a woolen shawl draped over his lap. When he turned toward her, his face looked gaunt, his complexion pale, and she realized how much he had withdrawn into himself since her last visit. Mentally, she made a note to stop by and see him more often.

Pasting on a falsely cheerful smile, Corrie walked toward him. “Professor Hart, it is so good to see you!” He started to rise, but she waved her hand. “Do not trouble yourself. I just popped in for a moment.”

“I’m glad you did. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll ring for some tea.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t that much time.” She sat, though, in a chair just across from him, worried by the slump of his thin shoulders and the pallor of his face.

“I’ve been meaning to come down to the paper,” he said, “but lately I haven’t been feeling quite up to snuff.”

No, he hadn’t been himself at all since he had found the note from Leif Draugr explaining that he had taken Krista away with him to his North Sea island home.

Corrie reached over and clasped the older man’s hand. “I know you are worried about her, Professor. But at least you know where she is.”

“Do I? I have no idea where Draugr Island might be found, and neither does the rest of the world.”

“Leif wouldn’t have taken her with him if he didn’t care for her greatly. The note said he intended to marry her. He will surely keep her safe.”

The professor looked away, but not before Corrie caught the faint sheen of tears in his eyes. “It is all my fault. I should have known what would happen. The man is a Viking, after all. They have been capturing women for centuries. When he pressed for Krista’s hand in marriage, I should have known—”

“There is no possible way you could have guessed. She refused his proposal and Leif seemed to accept that she wasn’t going to wed him. Perhaps something changed that final night. Perhaps Krista went willingly.”

The professor shook his head. “She would never do that, no matter how much she cared for him. Her life is here in London. There is no way she could be happy living such a primitive existence. She knew that, even if Leif refused to believe it.”

Corrie rose from her chair and walked over to the window. Fallen leaves formed a thick mat of orange, yellow and red on the gravel pathways winding through the garden.

“Leif is a good man, Professor,” she said. “If he weren’t, Krista wouldn’t have fallen in love with him.”

“She never said anything, but I could see it happening. I should have done something. I shouldn’t have let them spend so much time together.”

Corrie returned to her chair. “Perhaps Leif will realize the mistake he made, and bring her home.”

“Perhaps…” But it was clear the professor didn’t believe it, that he never thought to see his beloved daughter again.

“I came for another reason besides just a visit,” Corrie said, uncertain whether to trouble the poor man further, then thinking that perhaps giving him something to worry about besides his missing child might be good for him. “We are having some problems at
Heart to Heart.
”

That caught his attention. “What sort of problems?”

“Well, to start, with Krista away there is no one to write the editorial column. Without it, our subscriptions have begun to fall, and yesterday one of the reformist leaders, a man name Feargus O’Conner, came to see me.”

“I know Mr. O’Conner. He is quite outspoken in his support of the factory strikes and such.”

“Actually, he came to see Krista, but settled for me in her stead. He came to implore
Heart to Heart
to continue printing articles like the ones we ran on Harding Textiles, the sort of pieces Krista wrote in support of reform.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said I would speak to you.”

The professor shoved the woolen shawl off his lap and rose a bit unsteadily to his feet. “What do you propose we do? Surely you aren’t thinking that I should write the editorials? I scarcely keep abreast of politics and I know even less about reform. Those were Krista’s areas of expertise and I trusted her opinions in those matters.”

“I know. I just…I thought that perhaps there was something we could do…until she returns.”

But there was no way to know if she would ever return. Krista might already be married to Leif and stuck forever on his godforsaken island.

Since her disappearance, speculation had been rampant, everything from the possibility of murder, to her eloping with the mysterious and wealthy Scandinavian prince she had been seen with so often before she turned up missing.

That, of course, came closest to the truth. The version Corrie and Professor Hart had agreed upon was that Krista had gone to visit her sick aunt Abigail in the country, and there was no word yet when she would be able to return.

But Krista was the soul of
Heart to Heart,
and without her, keeping the magazine running was nearly impossible.

“Perhaps I could try writing the editorials,” Corrie said reluctantly. “That is…if you would agree to help me.”

His head came up, forcing him to look at her down the length of his prominent nose. “As I said, I know little of politics and reform.”

“But you know a great many people. You could visit your gentlemen’s club, ask a few questions, see how matters stand. And I could speak to some of the reform leaders, get their opinions on the various bills being put before Parliament.”

“I don’t know…”

“
Heart to Heart
needs you, Professor.”

He let out a weary breath. “Well, I suppose we could give it a try.”

Rising out of her chair, Corrie threw her arms around his neck and gave him a daughterly hug. “When Krista comes home, she is going to be ever so proud of you.”

His narrow face lit up. “Do you really think she might come back?”

Corrie worked up a smile. “There is always a chance, Professor. Whatever happens, you must believe she is happy. And if that is so, then that is all you could wish for.”

The older man nodded. He was sitting back down in his chair when a noise in the hall drew Corrie’s attention. Only an instant passed before the study door burst open and a gray-haired man in his seventies stormed into the room. Corrie recognized him immediately as Krista’s grandfather, the Earl of Hampton.

“All right, where is she? I demand to see my granddaughter this instant!”

The professor rose again from his chair. “Krista isn’t here, my lord. I very much wish she were.”

“What has happened to her?” The earl’s glance sharpened, then turned shrewd. “Is there a chance the gossips have it right and she has eloped to Gretna Green? Tell me the truth, Paxton.”

“I can’t tell you where she is, my lord. Only that she is no longer here in London.”

Corrie couldn’t miss the hope burning in the earl’s pale blue eyes. “What about the prince? I’ve heard the man was quite enamored of her.”

The prince,
Corrie thought. If Lord Hampton only knew.

For a moment, the professor seemed unable to speak. “As this is a family matter, I trust you will be discreet.”

“Of course.” The earl flicked an uncertain glance at Corrie.

“Miss Whitmore is my daughter’s dearest friend and already apprised of the situation.”

“Get to the point, man.”

“Krista has been taken, my lord, abducted against her will.”

“God’s teeth, why haven’t you called the authorities? We must find her, bring her back before her reputation is sullied beyond repair.”

“There is no way to find her. The man who took her has sailed from the country. Unless he brings Krista home, there is nothing we can do.”

“That is ridiculous. I am the Earl of Hampton, an extremely powerful man.”

“I’m sorry, Thomas. I know how much you were counting on Krista to marry well and give you an heir.”

His watery blue eyes narrowed in speculation. “If she has gone off with a man, there will likely be a child, sooner or later. We will simply force him to wed her. All is not yet lost.”

“She may never return,” the professor said sadly. “There is no way to know for sure.”

The earl suddenly looked older than he had when he walked into the study. “I am not one to show my feelings,” he said softly, “but Krista means a great deal to me. Whatever happens, Paxton, I hope you will keep me informed.”

The professor simply nodded. As Lord Hampton left the study, he sank back down in his chair and lifted the shawl over his lap.

“Is there anything I can do, Professor?” Corrie asked.

“Pray for her,” he said. “Pray for both of them.”

Corrie knew that as worried for Krista as he was, the man was also concerned for Leif. He and the big Norseman had become good friends. Whatever happened, it wouldn’t be easy for Krista or for Leif.

Corrie bade the professor farewell and left the study. She wasn’t sure if he would help with the articles as he had promised, but she hoped he would. She already had her hands full writing the society column and trying to manage the gazette. If Krista didn’t return soon, Corrie would have to hire someone to help her.

She sighed. If Krista didn’t return soon, there probably wouldn’t be a gazette.

Krista awoke to the sound of Leif moving around the bedchamber. It was morning. They had made love twice last night and again before dawn. Any thought of denying him was gone. She wanted him. Whatever else happened, she was tired of fighting the fierce attraction between them.

And yet when she thought of the finality of marriage, of the life she would be forced to live as Leif’s wife, her insides tightened into a painful knot. Perhaps Leif sensed her thoughts, for he didn’t bring up the subject of marriage, merely began to bundle up some of the furs on his bed, rolling a change of clothes up in the middle.

“Where are you going?” she asked as she watched him.

“Unless you are ready to wed with me, we are going up into the hills.” When she made no reply, he continued in the same matter-of-fact tone. “You will need a change of clothes. My sister has brought you a fur-lined cloak to wear over your dress so that you will not be cold, and your boots are warmly lined.”

“I don’t understand. Why are we leaving?” Tossing back the fur she had slept beneath, she reached out to catch the soft woolen kirtle Leif tossed her.

“My people are not fools. They will know what happened here last night. Since you are not my wife, you are my concubine, and they will treat you as such.”

Her face went pale. She hadn’t thought of the consequences of last night, but Leif had. He tied a strip of rawhide around the bundle he had made, and turned to face her.

“Is that your wish, Krista? To be my whore instead of my wife?”

Her bottom lip trembled. “I don’t…I don’t know anymore.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I need time, Leif.”

He strode toward her, caught her hard against him. “Do not cry, my love. If time is what you need, then time is what you shall have.” He eased her away from him. “Go now. Collect what you need for our journey.”

She nodded, brushed away the tears on her cheeks. “Is it safe to leave here? What about the raiders?”

“The berserkers will take weeks to lick their wounds, and the Hjalmr will hear the tale of their defeat and stay away, mayhap until spring.”

She turned a wistful glance toward the bathing room. “Is there time for me to bathe before we leave?”

Leif gave her a tender smile. “We will bathe at a pool in the hills. Go. I will find us something to eat on our journey.”

She left him there and went back to her bedchamber, wondering if she would be sleeping in the room any longer or if she would be sleeping with Leif. She was his concubine now.
His whore.
And all of the villagers knew it.