they had sat down to dinner, two hours earlier. She was finding it so exhausting being in the same city with Varek, let alone the same room.
Christina felt equally blessed when a messenger called Robert from her side and into a meeting with Castlereagh. She was just too restless to be subjected to another of Robert's sulky interrogations.
So here she was, alone in bed, restless and edgy, and desperately blanking out every erotic thought that forced its way into her fevered imaginings.
Fool, she brutally castigated herself as she yanked up the comforter to her chin and glared up at the ceiling. She thought of Robert, and became agitated. The Robert of Vienna was a stranger; he was not the man she had married, the man who had healed her pain and brought her to Kerkmoor.
So he can't stir my blood like Varek can with a mere smile. So he can't make my heart pound with joy when he simply walks into a room. What has that to say about anything?
He is the father of my child!
Finally hitting upon the ultimate trait that Robert had over Varek, she pounded her pillow, stretched out and stared up into the canopied darkness. Of course, Robert was what she needed. He had given her a son, where Varek had failed miserably. As Varek had said often enough, their destinies had all been preordained; obviously, she was not meant for Varek.
Varek had simply been her fantasy come to life. But only for a short while. Life had given her a beautiful memory to sustain her through the rest of her days, and she should be grateful for that.
That was all Varek was meant to be, a brilliant, magnificent shooting star in her life. Nothing more, and never again.
Turning her face into her pillow, Christina cried herself to sleep.
Five
Lord Castlereagh paused in his dictation and studied Robert for a few moments before he dismissed his secretary, Peterson.
Robert wasn't even aware of the departure of the man, and it was Castlereagh's prompting that brought his distracted attention back to the present. Surprised, he looked around to find them alone, then flushed with embarrassment when he found the foreign secretary's eyes trained upon him.
Sitting up straight, he cleared his throat. “Forgive me, my lord.”
Castlereagh shook his head and leaned back comfortably in his chair. His gentle gaze invited the sharing of confidences, something Robert suddenly had the need to do. He certainly wasn't getting any answers out of Christina. He almost sighed with relief when Castlereagh's quiet voice broke the silence.
“Is there something troubling you, Robert?”
Robert hesitated for the slightest moment, feeling guilty about discussing Christina. She was such a secretive person, guarding her privacy almost jealously. Having second thoughts, Robert reluctantly shook his head.
“Come now, Robert; we've known each other a long time. Your brother was one of my first and has remained the staunchest of my supporters. Please, allow me to be of assistance.”
Shifting restlessly about in his chair, Robert recrossed his legs. “It's Christina,” he finally blurted out.
Castlereagh nodded, smiling wryly. He had assumed this, considering the appearance of von Vischering several nights ago. “It must have been a shock to her to see the archduke again.”
“You know him?” Robert sat bolt upright in his chair, startled.
“Not personally, but I know of him. He comes from a very illustrious old family, the last surviving member of the von Vischerings. He rules a small but extremely wealthy duchy in Germany. He is connected to the Habsburgs, and being a favored cousin of Francis, has considerable sway over the Emperor.” Castlereagh shook his head sadly as he continued, “It was a devilish shame what happened.”
“What?”
Castlereagh's brow cocked in surprise. “Why, Christina's divorce, of course.”
Exasperation flared in Robert's eyes as he slumped back in his chair. How many others knew more of Christina's life than her own husband did? He was