"Where?" she breathed finally.
"Outside the town, along the river," he said with soft-voiced urgency. "Walk north, and I'll wait for you."
She nodded slowly as if the physical effort was almost too much for her.
"Go back now, ahead of me," he instructed, adjusting his cravat, smoothing his hair.
"But what must I look like?" She touched her lips that still sang with the memory of that consuming kiss.
"A little disheveled, that's all," he reassured. "Nothing that a couple of minutes in the retiring room won't put right. Now, off you go, before you're missed."
She left him, gliding out from the screen of trees but keeping in the shadows of the house as she made her way inside, hurrying through the brilliantly lit salons, keeping her head down so that she wouldn't catch anyone's eye.
Nathaniel took his time about emerging. He leaned on the parapet and breathed deeply until his aroused loins were once again comfortable and his head was clear. Madness… utter madness. But he hadn't been able to help himself, and for two pins he'd have yielded to Gabrielle's desperation and joined with her there and then, standing against the parapet of a terrace in the midst of the two most illustrious courts in the world.
Madness! But he wanted to laugh aloud. And that was not the prudent reaction of a man who walked in the lion's den and whose life presently depended upon a mixture of good fortune, experience, cool nerves, and utter discretion.
He'd half hoped, when he left her in Paris, that distance would lend detachment, but it had done the opposite, merely intensified his addictive passion. She continued to obsess his dreams, both sleeping and waking.
And here, on the banks of the River Nieman, in surroundings that would be more suited to a theatrical drama, she was with him again and it was the stuff of fantasy.
Gabrielle somehow managed to get through the rest of the evening without any obvious signs of insanity. The two emperors left together as they'd arrived, in perfect unity. Benedict Lubienski made his farewells with a group of others, his lips brushing her gloved hand, his eyes opaque.
"Well, that went off very well," Tal'eyrand declared as the last guest left. "Congratulations, ma chere."
"On what?" she asked swiftly.
Her godfather's eyebrows rose. "On what do you think?'
Flustered, Gabrielle waved a vaguely dismissive hand. "I didn't mean to be obtuse. I'm rather tired."
"Iimagineyoumightbe."Heexaminedher thoughtfullyforasecond."Youseemedtoenjoythe companyofMonsieurLubienski."
Thecraftyoldfoxnevermissedanything!"DidI, mon parrain?"Shemethisshrewdgazeandsighed; therewasnopointinprevaricatingwithTalleyrand.
"YouforgetthatIknowhowyouarewithyourlovers, monenfant."
"Justtwo,"sheremindedhim.
"Morethanenoughforawomanwholovesashard asyou,Gabrielle."
"Yes," sheagreed withasubduedsmile.
"Youwerenotexpectinghim?"Hisglancewassuddenlysharp.
"No."Sheshookherheadhelplessly."Ifeelasif I'minsomedreamworld.Ineverexpectedtoseehim again."
"D'accord."Hekissedhercheek,andthenstood back,holdinghershoulderslightly.
"Iwon'tinsulteitherofyoubyrecommendingcaution."
"No," she agreed.
The door closed on the Minister forForeign Affairs, and Gabrielle gave alittle involuntary skip ofexcitement. Nothing now lay between her and the rendezvous on the nverbank.
Chapter 22
Nathaniel strode north along the riverbank away from the town. The air was fragrant with wild thyme, and a field of sunflowers hung their heavy golden heads, turned to the east, ready to greet the rising sun. The moon was a perfect circle in a black velvet sky, its reflection sailing over the dark waters of the river.
The silvery fronds of an ancient weeping willow on the bank hung to the water's edge. Nathaniel pushed through the veil of leaves and found what he sought-a perfect secluded bower where the grass was cool and fragrant, protected from the burning summer sun that during the day dried the ground to a crisp and shriveled the grass to brown spikes.
He spread his cloak on the grass at the base of the gnarled trunk and sat down to await Gabrielle, ears pricked for the rustle of hasty footsteps outside his bower.
Gabrielle let herself out of the house and ran straight into a soldier from the garrison patrolling the street outside. She'd somehow not taken into account the fact that the town would be crawling with guards, with two such precious personages asleep within its walls.
She identified herself and said she was going for a walk along the river. The soldier seemed nonplussed. Unescorted ladies didn't ordinarily take walks at three o'clock in the morning. Gabrielle subjected him to a haughty stare and demanded to know whether he wished to awaken the Minister for Foreign Affairs to verify her credentials? Or the emperor, perhaps?
The soldier coughed apologetically and bowed her on her way.
She sped along the riverbank, barely aware in her eagerness of the beauty of the night, the balmy air, the harvest moon.
She was in such a hurry, her eyes straining into the distance for some sign of Nathaniel, his shadow in the moonlight perhaps, that she didn't see a flat stone in her path and tripped, falling headlong with a vigorous expletive.
"Don't make such a noise!" Nathaniel sprang out of his willow cave a little way ahead as the shocked curses filled the quiet night. "Oh, dear, what are you doing down there?"
Gabrielle pushed herself onto her knees. "Don't laugh," she demanded crossly. "There's a great big boulder sticking up in the path. It has no tight to be there."
"No, of course it doesn't," he said soothingly. "And you've just told it so in no uncertain terms. I'm sure it won't do it again."