"He doesn't know." Rudolf whistled beneath his breath. "You haven't told him."
"I don't intend to tell him," she said. "And if you're his friend, you won't tell him, either. He already dreads the thought of facing me over the breakfast table every morning knowing he was forced, by convention, into a marriage he didn't want. How do you think he'd react if he knew about the baby?"
"He'd marry you."
"Yes, he'd marry me to claim his son and heir and he'd suffer the gossip and the whispering when people began counting the days until the birth on their fingers. He'd see me on a daily basis and he'd be miserable. We'd all be miserable."
"Queen Victoria's government is reeling from the Ainsford scandal. You're trying to protect him. Protect his career," he said.
"I'm protecting myself," Cristina corrected him. "I'm protecting my child from growing up in a household with parents who dread the sight of one another."
Rudolf smiled. For all her protestations of innocence, Cristina Fairfax could be tough when she chose to be. It wouldn't do to underestimate her. "What sort of arrangement did you have in mind?"
"I want your protection and support until I'm able to support myself."
"And what shall I get in return?" he asked. "I have already paid for your maidenhead. I paid with a necklace fit for a queen and with my signature on several letters of introduction throughout the Continent."
"You paid my mother, not me," Cristina informed him. "I have neither the necklace nor the letters of introduction." She forced herself to be firm. As much as she disliked the idea, Cristina realized that she must bargain for her future.
"Nevertheless, your guardian was well paid for you." Prince Rudolf was as implacable as Cristina. "If I take you to Vienna, you go as my mistress. That is my only condition."
"But, you can't ask that," Cristina sputtered angrily. "You said you would help me."
"And I will," he told her. "As long as you remain my mistress."
"You can't possibly want someone who doesn't return your affections."
"I'm not interested in your affections," Rudolf reminded her. "I am only interested in having your delectable body for my own."
Cristina stared at him. "But..."
"Those are my terms, liebchen. Do you come with me to Vienna or do you stay?"
"I'll come," Cristina capitulated. "But I won't sleep with you. I'll fight you if you even try to come to my bed," she warned.
"The nights in Vienna can get very lonely, especially for a young woman. I'm a crown prince." He smiled at her. "I'm accustomed to waiting for my heart's desire. I have patience. I know how to wait. Sooner or later, you will come to me willingly."
"Forever is a very long time, Your Royal Highness."
"I'll take my chances, liebchen. We are scheduled to leave in two days' time. Be ready." He pulled her up from the sofa and planted a kiss on her tightly closed mouth. "I will send a carriage for you here."
Cristina nodded.
Rudolf laughed. "Cheer up, fraulein, our relationship may not be as horrible as you imagine. You may even learn to like me a little when you see all the things I am willing to do for you." He executed a perfect bow, then clicked his heels together in the Austrian military fashion and left her standing, amazed, in the parlor of Lady Wethering's town house.
*Part Two*
There is a smile of love,
And there is a smile of deceit,
And there is a smile of smiles
In which these two smiles meet.
--WILLIAM BLAKE 1757-1827
*Chapter Sixteen*
Cristina made her way down the steps of her small house situated in the heart of Old Vienna. She stepped onto the walkway and began her daily stroll past St. Stephen's Cathedral, down the street several blocks and around the corner where numerous coffeehouses and pastry shops filled the morning air with the mouthwatering aroma of chocolate.
The city of Vienna fascinated her. It was a charming mixture of old and new that enthralled her. From the modern apartment buildings and government offices with their plaster edifices located on the fashionable Ringstrasse--which was currently under construction--to the ancient shops and coffeehouses in the older part of the city, Cristina delighted in discovering Vienna. It was a city where the majority of the inhabitants walked and Cristina eagerly adopted the tradition, strolling along at a leisurely pace. She followed the same path every morning, faithfully trailed by Leah, often stopping to chat with the hausfraus and shopkeepers in her halting and often incorrect schoolgirl German. She enjoyed the people and the pace of Vienna and the relatively peaceful existence she led. She needed the calm after the tumultuous weeks spent with Blake. She needed peace, an outward peace even if the inward peace eluded her. Her life in Vienna could be perfect if only she could learn to care for the crown prince--if only she could learn to feel something other than amicable companionship for Rudolf. No, it couldn't be perfect, she brutally reminded herself, not unless the crown prince was magically transformed into Blake Ashford, the ninth earl of Lawrence.
It was so frustrating. She had left London determined to forget Blake and arrived in Vienna only to admit to herself that forgetting him was impossible. She missed him terribly and she desired him more than ever, even though she knew he was thousands of miles away from her and that he hated her. She vividly recalled every detail of Lawrence House and its inhabitants and every moment she had spent with its arrogant, stubborn owner became a cherished memory to warm and comfort her during the long, lonely nights in Vienna.
There was so much she wanted to share with Blake; so many new sights to see and anecdotes to exchange, and then there was the ever-increasing size of her abdomen. She wanted desperately to share that with him. He was the father of her child and he didn't even know it. A part of her longed to tell him. But she was afraid. Afraid that his guilt would prompt him to propose marriage, and Cristina didn't want him on those terms.
She reminded herself that she was protecting the baby and saving Blake from political suicide--that it was better for the three of them if Blake never learned the truth. But it hurt to keep the secret--hurt to drive him away--so much more than she had ever dreamed.
And then there was Rudolf. He had tried repeatedly to persuade Cristina into his bed in the months since their arrival in Vienna, but Cristina couldn't be persuaded--couldn't be tempted. Her longing was for Blake, and the crown prince was a very poor substitute. Cristina was overwhelmed with shame and embarrassment each time she remembered how Rudolf had tried to take her in his arms and caress her on the first night of the journey to Vienna. She had instinctively recoiled. The crown prince had been very good to her in his way--generous and thoughtful. But Cristina could not make herself respond to him, no matter how hard she tried. She felt as if she was betraying her husband and in her heart she knew it was true. So she had been stiff and unresponsive to Rudolf and he had released her instantly, his angry words echoing in her ears.
"We made a bargain. Is this the way you intend to fulfill your part of it?"
Cristina had cringed at the angry question. "I am trying, Your Highness."
"Trying, Cristina? What is it you are trying to do?"
"I am trying to fulfill my part of the bargain," Cristina had blurted out, desperately ashamed of herself. "I wish I could respond to you, but I can't." She hung her head, knowing her words injured Rudolf's pride, knowing it hurt him to know she couldn't return his desire, but helpless to do anything except reply honestly.
Rudolf felt a surge of pity for her in spite of his wounded pride. "You are a passionate woman, Cristina. You will awaken one day and respond." His fingers grazed the underside of her jaw. "I can wait. I won't try to force or cajole you. I will be patient. You will come to me when the time is right."
He had left her then with a
soft kiss on her cheek, and Cristina had been both relieved and depressed by his absence. She didn't want to share his bed, but she did enjoy his company. He could be quite charming and entertaining when he chose. Without Rudolf to entertain her, and with only Leah for company, Cristina's days became monotonous, her elegant house little more than a gilded cage. She heard, through Leah, that Rudolf was amusing himself with one of the numerous horizontales in the city and Cristina was awash with relief. He had found someone else to claim his attention, someone else to entertain him during the long, lonely nights. Loneliness plagued her. She longed for Blake and at the same time she missed Rudolf's companionship, his amusing tales of the people at his father's court, their serious political debates and chess matches and the way his warm, blue eyes sparkled with humor at her blunders as she mangled the German tongue. She looked forward to his infrequent visits and despite her best intentions to hate him, Cristina found herself liking the crown prince and enjoying the time he spent with her. She had even begun to think of him as a friend.
The idea that she was subtly being courted by the heir to the Austro-Hungarian Empire never occurred to her. Cristina failed to recognize the fact that Rudolf was exercising his considerable charm and showing an abundant amount of restraint.
He still desired her. His body quickened at the sight of her, but he spoke the truth when he told her he could wait until she no longer thought of him as the enemy. Rudolf was convinced that with enough time and charm he could win her over. Time was his ally. Given enough time, Cristina would forget the dreadful bargain he had made with her mother and remember only his charm and generosity and the companionship they shared. She could learn to love him. He would see to it.
Cristina breathed deeply of the morning air laced with the pungent scent of coffee and chocolate. She paused for a moment before taking a seat at one of the outdoor tables in front of a coffeehouse. Leah shook her head in disapproval, but she joined Cristina at the table anyway.
A stiffly uniformed waiter sprang forward to greet them and watched in utter fascination as Cristina lifted the heavy black veil Rudolf insisted she wear on her walks.
The waiter bowed before her and returned minutes later with a tray of mouthwatering pastries and two cups of steaming Viennese coffee. Cristina smiled her thanks and slowly sipped her coffee as she deliberated on the problems ahead of her.
It was important to plan carefully for the future. Except for Leah, she was alone in Vienna. The idea frightened her a little, but she had made the city her destiny and she must find a way to survive in it once her child was born. She had rejected the idea of becoming Rudolf's mistress, but now she understood why he had sounded so confident back in London.
Women had even less freedom in Vienna under Franz Josef than in London under Victoria. Cristina had realized very soon after her arrival that she would never be able to gain respectable employment. No Viennese would hire her to work in their coffeehouses or beer gardens or shops when there were so many unfortunate Hapsburg subjects flocking to Vienna seeking work. And who would hire a governess as young and attractive as she to live with their family under their roof, even if she could keep the birth of her child a secret? Rudolf had known from the beginning that Cristina would eventually become his mistress if she accompanied him, because in Vienna, no other option was available to her.
Most of Vienna already thought of her as a lady of the veil, the crown prince's mistress. It seemed certain that the rumors would become fact. She had been labeled by Viennese society. She was a mistress. Rudolf's or someone else's. It didn't matter that it wasn't the truth or that her heart was engaged elsewhere. She wasn't expected to love her protector. Love wasn't the primary concern. He was a crown prince and it was her duty to serve him. There were worse protectors than the young, attractive heir to the empire and a young, foreigner was lucky to catch his eye.
Cristina brought the coffee cup to her lips, surprised to find the liquid was cold. She had been so engrossed in her thoughts, she had lost all track of time. She tried not to think of London, but sometimes ... If only she had told him. If only she had stayed. If only he had told her he loved her. If she continued to dwell on what might have been, she was sure to go out of her mind. She had to go forward. She couldn't go back. A longing sigh escaped her lips and she turned to see if Leah or anyone nearby had noticed. Leah was busy with thoughts of her own, but Cristina turned her head and looked directly into the clear, gray gaze of a man several tables down and knew he was aware of her slightest movement.
His malevolent stare chilled her to the core.
She tore her gaze away from his, quickly lowered her veil, and began fumbling with her belongings. She plucked up enough courage to glance back at him and met his thin, knowing smile. He stood up, nodded in her direction, paid his bill, and vanished in the blink of an eye.
He disappeared so suddenly, Cristina began to wonder if she had imagined him and the exchange that had taken place.
She rose from her chair and placed a few coins beside her plate. "Leah, I'm ready. Let's go." Cristina pulled on her fur-lined cape and rebuttoned her gloves.
Leah followed suit and they left the cafe tables and turned back the way they had come. Fear prickled at the tiny hairs at the back of Cristina's neck and ran unchecked through her body, forcing her to walk faster, driving her on like a living thing, until her breathing became so ragged she was forced to stop and rest. They leaned against the brick wall of a Jewish moneylender's shop, panting for breath.
"What's the great hurry?" Leah asked, "You were practically runnin' down the street."
Cristina glanced warily around and saw him across the street, following them at a discreet distance. "We are being followed."
Leah looked around, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. "Of course we're bein' followed."
Cristina was shocked by her bald statement. "I don't understand. Why?"
"This ain't London, missy," Leah explained. "Here the secret police follow the crown prince's every step. It seems likely to me that they follow his lady friends around, too. Especially foreign lady friends."
Cristina decided Leah was probably right. She was a stranger to Vienna and if the Emperor Franz Josef had his secret police spy on his own son, he wouldn't think anything of having the police spy on his son's friends. The man was probably secret police and totally harmless.
Nevertheless, Cristina breathed a sigh of relief when she and Leah reached the safety and privacy of the house. She collapsed on a chair as soon as she reached her sitting room.
"You need to change. You're soaked through."
"I'm fine, Leah, don't fuss."
"I've got eyes in my head an' I can see for myself." Leah took Cristina's damp cape and draped it over a chair near the fire. "I don't think you should be traipsin' about in the mornin' air. The damp and chill ain't good for you or the babe."
"I'm fine, Leah. Don't fuss. Don't you think I know what's best for my baby?" Cristina's fatigue and the fright the man in the cafe had given her made her reply sharper than she intended.
"No, I don't," Leah informed her bluntly. "If you really knew what was best for you and this child, you would've stayed with its father."
"And what about Lord Lawrence?" Cristina's voice rose alarmingly.
"He's a grown man and well able to take care of himself." Leah clamped her lips shut and faced her headstrong mistress with a disapproving stare.
"Leah, I don't want to discuss Lord Lawrence. As far as the world and the baby are concerned, Crown Prince Rudolf will be its father," Cristina said, shakily.
"I know why you came here. I understand that you want to avoid havin' any scandal attached to Lord Lawrence's good name, but darlin', you should have told him the truth and let him help you decide what to do. You shouldn't have taken this all upon yourself."
"But, Leah ..."
"I know you plan to pass the baby off as Prince Rudolf's s
o it can have the things we couldn't give it. But you ain't bein' fair to yourself, Lord Lawrence, or your child. Cristina, my girl, no good can come from livin' a lie."
"But Leah," Cristina's voice echoed dully in her ears, "he never said he loved me. And I was afraid that a scandal and this"--she rubbed her expanding tummy--"I was afraid. I was afraid he would hate me for trapping him into a marriage he doesn't want. I was afraid he would hate me when he found out. I couldn't stay. I had to leave. Oh, God, what have I done?" Her voice thickened and she covered her face with her hands and released a flood of anguished tears. She was unhappy and forced to live a lie of her own making because she had been too afraid to take a risk on love.
"Have you lost your mind?" It was late and Lawrence House was quiet except for the crackling of the fire in the library grate and the escalating argument between the two men sitting in the cozy leather chairs sipping coffee laced with brandy. Blake was being obstinate and Nigel was finding it increasingly difficult to understand his best friend. The same question had been on his lips once too often during the past months.
"No, I haven't lost my mind," Blake informed him, raking his fingers through his hair in a gesture of irritability.
Nigel remained unimpressed by Blake's reply or his obvious show of irritation. "But Blake, you're turning down the chance of a lifetime. The queen asked for you personally."
"I don't want the post in Vienna and the title, however glorified, is only temporary. I'm tired of the Foreign Office and I'm tired of Franz Josef's stifling court. It's time I settled down to my own business interests and let the queen find someone else to tend to hers."
"Blake, you must reconsider. Think of all you'll lose if you turn her down. Think of your future."
"Must I? Oh, come on, Nigel, next you'll be handing me that rot about serving my country and doing my duty. Well, I consider, I've done my duty. I've served in the Foreign Office ranks for nearly ten years. Like the Ashford men before me, I've served my sovereign loyally and faithfully and it's time someone else took over. Don't talk to me of duty. Let someone else watchdog the crown in the name of diplomacy. I'm tired of the games. I'm tired of the whole damned thing." Blake paused to collect his thoughts. "My God, Nigel, I'm thirty-one years old, and what do I have to show for these years? No real home, no family of my own, no wife, no children. Nothing but ten years spent bowing and scraping to Her Majesty's royal brood all over the globe. I need a change. I can't do this any longer. I'm tired and I don't like the man I've become."