The Fairest Beauty

  “Tell me, Sophie.” She had avoided him and now refused to tell him why. He leaned forward and took her hand, wondering if she would pull away from him again.

  But she didn’t offer any resistence. Her small hand fit perfectly in his, and she clasped her fingers around his. She faced him, searching his eyes, as if she was trying to read his thoughts.

  “I was afraid of what you were about to tell me when we were interrupted yesterday.” She sat down on the stool beside his bed, then swallowed, her eyes still fastened to his face, still searching intently.

  “But you’re not afraid now?” He spoke softly, as if she were a skittish foal he was trying not to spook.

  “I’m just as afraid, if not more.” Her lips trembled as if she were trying to smile but was too nervous. “But I had to see you, to see how you were.” She took a shaky breath, as if her next words were difficult to say. “And now I am ready to hear what you have to say.”

  Now he wasn’t sure he should say it. They had been through a lot together, but they had only known each other a few days. She probably wanted to forget him so she could have the life she deserved. After all, she would gain so much more by marrying Valten.

  It would be for the best if they could forget about each other. If he and Sophie tried to break their betrothals, many people would be hurt, including Valten. And though he and Valten had often fought and been angry with each other, Gabe realized, maybe more than ever before, that he loved his brother and desired his respect.

  But looking into her earnest face, feeling her hand clasped to his … he wasn’t sure he could ever let her go. Not if she felt the same way he did.

  “I was about to say …” He swallowed, afraid of saying too much and afraid of saying too little. “My family is important to me, but you are very important to me too. Truthfully, I don’t know if I could bear to … I don’t want to let you go.”

  He held her hand tight and gazed into her blue eyes, the light of the candles dancing inside them. Her lips were parted and her eyes were wide, almost childlike.

  He loved his brother, but he couldn’t let Sophie marry Valten if she didn’t want to. Please say something, Sophie.

  She whispered, “I know.” Bowing her head, she squeezed his hand with both of hers.

  They were quiet for several moments. Gabe soaked up her presence and the fragile touch of her hands.

  “Let me see your arm,” he said softly.

  She let go of his hand, reluctantly it seemed, and slowly inched up her fitted sleeve to reveal the bandage that stretched from her wrist to her elbow. Sophie unwrapped it. He took her arm in his hands and leaned over to examine it closer to the light. The wound was starting to close up as it should, but it was important that it be properly cleaned and wrapped.

  “I think Bartel needs to look at it.”

  “What do I need to look at?” Bartel stood in the doorway, his arms hidden under the folds of his brown robe.

  He let go of Sophie as Bartel drew nearer.

  “Sophie was wounded by an arrow.”

  “I know. I have been bandaging it every night.”

  “Thank you.”

  “She didn’t want me to stitch it closed, but it is healing.” Bartel began rewrapping her bandage and tied it snugly in place.

  Gabe perceived by his expression that Bartel didn’t approve of Sophie being in his room. All the more reason for Gabe to get well so he didn’t have to stay cloistered. If it killed him, and even if he had to defy Bartel, he would go downstairs tomorrow instead of letting Bartel force him to stay in bed.

  “How is Lord Gabe faring?” Sophie asked Bartel.

  Her calling him “Lord Gabe” reminded him that they would have to conform again to society’s rules. The other people around them would dictate how they addressed each other, and every other behavior. And once again, everyone would say how irresponsible Gabe was.

  “He is improving,” Bartel said. “But I do not want him leaving his bed until I’m sure the fever is gone and he is stronger. And then he isn’t to leave this house or do any work.”

  “Of course,” Sophie mumbled.

  “You may go now.”

  “Of course, Herr Bartel.” Sophie dropped a quick curtsy and started to leave.

  Gabe wanted to call her back, but with Bartel standing there, he simply said, “Good night, Sophie.”

  “Good night, Gabe. Good night, Herr Bartel.”

  As soon as Sophie finished making breakfast the next morning, Bartel appeared at her side. He quickly took the tray she prepared for Gabe. She had hoped to take him the food herself.

  “Come upstairs when you finish breakfast so I can change your bandage,” he ordered before he left.

  She hurried through the meal and left the seven men to clean up. Her thin shoes swished up the steps, and she had to pause at Gabe’s door to catch her breath, even though running up one flight of steps had never made her lose her breath before.

  She knocked on the door and Gabe’s rich voice bid her come in.

  Sophie hurried in, her heart pounding at seeing Gabe alone. “Guten Morgen. How are you feeling?”

  “Much better,” he said, pushing himself into a sitting position. “Will you open the shutters to let some more light in?”

  Sophie turned to the window, hoping she didn’t have any smudges of flour on her face and that her hair wasn’t falling down. She opened the shutters and a flash of movement at the edge of the trees caught her eye. A man stared straight back at her, his face partially covered by a thick beard. There was something about his eyes that sent a shiver through her, and Sophie gasped. The man turned and disappeared into the trees.

  “What? What is it?” Gabe sat up straighter, pushing the blanket back.

  “Nothing, nothing. I just need to go tell Dominyk something.” Hurrying out the door, she said quickly, “Stay in bed. I’ll be right back.”

  Sophie closed the door behind her and raced down the steps. She ran into Dominyk coming out of the kitchen.

  “I saw a man.”

  “Where?”

  “In the edge of the forest, behind the house. He was slender and had a thick brown beard. He saw me.”

  “Stay in the house. We’ll deal with him.” Dominyk disappeared back into the kitchen.

  Sophie hurried back up to Gabe’s chamber, her hands shaking a bit as she remembered the malevolent look in the prowler’s eyes. But she had to appear calm when she faced Gabe. She didn’t want him to know about the man. He would only be upset that he couldn’t go out and search for him.

  Sophie slipped back into the room and smiled at him. A day’s worth of hair growth on his face and chin gave him back that rugged, masculine look, the one that had made her heart skip a few beats the first time she saw him unshaven. Her smile faltered, and she swallowed the rock in her throat.

  “What happened? Did you see something outside?”

  “I just had to tell Dominyk something. Now tell me how you are feeling this morning.” Her hand shook a bit as she passed the open window and bent to blow out a candle on the bedside table.

  “I am much better now.” Gabe smiled at her, making her heart flutter. His sun-darkened skin was a nice contrast to his white teeth. His russet-brown hair waved across his forehead and his dark eyes fixed on hers, drawing her closer.

  “You’re beautiful, Sophie. I suppose you’ve heard that all your life.”

  The duchess had always told her she was ugly. Sophie had always struggled to not believe the duchess, especially after her hair had been cut off a few years ago.

  “Not everyone says I’m beautiful.”

  “The duchess? She doesn’t count.”

  He had read her mind. Or maybe he just knew her, knew her better than anyone ever could without seeing where she’d come from and knowing her mistress … or, rather, her stepmother. How could anyone really know Sophie without knowing what the duchess had done to her? But Gabe knew. He knew everything and still cared about her.

  She rewarded him
with a bigger smile. For now she would push back the worry. She simply wanted to enjoy whatever time she had with him and pretend she had all the time in the world to enjoy his company, his conversation … to enjoy looking at him.

  “Have you come to get your bandage changed?”

  She nodded, taking the tray from his lap and setting it on the table.

  The door opened and Bartel walked in. Gabe looked on as the monk repeated what he had done the night before, wrapping her arm tightly with a clean, new bandage.

  Bartel, who rarely ever looked her in the eye and never for more than a moment, looked at the floor and said, “I will change Gabe’s bandage now,” as if to dismiss her.

  “Oh, good.” Sophie tried to sound innocent. “I would like to see his wound to know how well it is healing.”

  Bartel looked at her with a suspicious glint in his eye. Sophie smiled at him. He finally turned away from her, a disgruntled look on his face, as he focused on Gabe.

  He opened Gabe’s shirt down the front and pushed the material off his shoulder.

  Her face grew warm and she wondered if this had been a bad idea. But when Bartel took off Gabe’s bandage, exposing the raw, open wound, she stepped closer and cringed.

  “Does it look all right? Is it healing the way it’s supposed to?”

  Bartel didn’t pause or look back at her as he studied the wound and then started applying a green paste to it. “Yes.”

  She waited for him to say more, but he didn’t.

  Bartel rewrapped the bandage around Gabe’s shoulder. “He needs to rest now,” Bartel said.

  She nodded and hurried out the door.

  When Gabe woke again, the sun was high. Bartel had closed the shutters, but Gabe could still see the bright rays of light through the cracks. What has Bartel been giving me to drink? Every time he drank Bartel’s herbed wine, he lost hours to sleep. Gabe threw back the covers and got fully dressed, noting his fever was gone. From now on, he wasn’t drinking anything Bartel gave him. From now on he would spend his days downstairs … with Sophie. After all, he had less than two weeks to find out just how she truly felt about him.

  And what to do about it.

  Gabe slipped on his boots, reveling in feeling strong again. His shoulder was still extremely sore, but that wasn’t enough reason for Bartel to give him something to make him sleep, just to keep him cloistered upstairs.

  As he descended the stairs, the wonderful smell of fresh bread and warm spices filled him with anticipation.

  Sophie was setting the dishes on the table. She saw him and her face lit up. “You look … good.” She smiled.

  “You look better than good.”

  She blushed. “I meant that you look rested and strong. You have your color back. Are you feeling better?”

  He moved close to her. “Do you think I still have a fever?” He hoped she would press her soft hand to his forehead.

  “I’m sure your fever must be gone” — she gave him a saucy smirk, seeing right through him — “or Bartel never would have let you come downstairs.”

  “Bartel doesn’t know.” He smirked right back, leaning dangerously close.

  Chapter 19

  She stared into his eyes like a deer in that instant it sees the arrow coming straight for its heart. Her deep-blue eyes were wide, her pink lips slightly parted. His heart pounded against his chest. He bent his head closer.

  “Sophie, Sophie, Sophie.”

  Sophie stepped away from him with a startled jerk of her head, and Gabe’s soaring heart dropped like a rock.

  Siggy stood in the door, his ears red, the bright color spreading up his neck and into his cheeks. Heinric was just behind him, grinning ecstatically, drool at the corners of his mouth, as he repeated Sophie’s name.

  Siggy couldn’t meet their eyes. “W-w-we rang the bell. The others sh-should be c-c-coming.”

  “Thank you, Siggy.” Sophie glanced at Gabe and then turned back toward the counter.

  Gabe followed her and helped take the food out to the table. Every shy peek from under her eyelashes was worth gold.

  As they waited for the rest of the men, Gabe asked Siggy, “Where are they?”

  “Dominyk and Dolf are w-w-working the mines. Vincz-z-z-z and Gotfrid are w-w-working in the forest, cutting trees. We are miners and w-w-woodsmen. Bartel p-p-prays in the chapel out back.”

  “Heinric help too.”

  “Heinric, you are a g-g-good helper.” Siggy patted Heinric on the shoulder. “Heinric and I are s-s-staying near to make sure S-s-s-sophie is safe.”

  “Heinric good helper,” Heinric said. “I protect Sophie.”

  “Thank you,” Gabe said. “I am glad you are here to take care of Sophie, Heinric.” Heinric was almost as large as Walther. Anyone who threatened Sophie, with Heinric nearby, would likely regret it.

  Soon the rest of the men trooped in and sat down on the benches at the trestle table. Gabe managed to get a spot next to Sophie. She seemed at ease with the Seven. They looked at her with respect and kindness in their eyes, and she in turn looked at them with an almost familial air. She cared about them. But the look she gave Gabe was unmistakably different.

  Valten was going to kill him. He shouldn’t be encouraging Sophie’s attention. If he wasn’t mistaken, she would have let him kiss her a few moments ago. I’m sorry, God, but she never promised to marry Valten, and for that matter, Valten never promised to marry her. The agreement was made by their parents, not them. But he and Brittola had agreed to marry. Perhaps there was a way to break the betrothals, a way that wouldn’t anger their families or the king, bringing down his wrath on them. The king had approved the original betrothal, but he could change his mind, couldn’t he? He’d done it before.

  If Sophie loved Gabe, he would make a way.

  Sophie noticed that Gabe wasn’t using his left hand. She wanted to ask him if his shoulder still hurt, but she was afraid to even speak to him in front of the men, especially after Siggy and Heinric had come into the room just when it looked as if Gabe was about to kiss her. She didn’t know if he would have, but it must have looked that way to Siggy. What would the men think of her? Especially if they knew she was betrothed to Gabe’s brother?

  Earlier, while Sophie had been preparing the meal, Dominyk told her that Vincz and Dolf had gone to look for the man she’d seen, but they had only found a few tracks before quickly losing his trail. They believed it was the same man they had seen before.

  “He could be the duchess’s henchman, so stay inside at all times. We will watch out for him.”

  “Thank you.” The thought of another one of Duchess Ermengard’s men spying on her made a chill snake down Sophie’s back, but she pushed the thought from her mind. Besides, neither the Seven nor Gabe would let anything harm her.

  When the meal was over, the seven men began to disperse to their jobs. Dominyk said, “Siggy, you stay near the house and Heinric can come with me. I want you to watch the woods for any sign of” — he glanced at Gabe — “trouble. Sophie has you, Gabe, and Bartel. I know the three of you will keep her safe.”

  Siggy nodded, and the rest of the men left.

  Sophie and Gabe gathered the dishes and took them to the washbasin while Siggy went outside to look around. Gabe brought her the tankards, and she poured some warm water from a large, beaten copper pan into the basin to wash them. As he set the dishes down on the wood shelf beside her, his shoulder and upper arm brushed hers. Her arm tingled as she stared into the pan. She rinsed the cups and then began washing the bowls. He put his hands into the water and helped, their hands colliding under the water.

  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the way he held each item with his left hand and scrubbed with his right. She kept working, pretending not to notice him, but her breath seemed to have caught in her throat. Finally, when she was washing the very last bowl, Gabe placed his hands over hers, following along with her movements as she rubbed the dish clean and placed it on the cloth next to the washbasin. With one han
d holding hers, he picked up a towel with the other and began to dry her hands.

  His upper arm was rock solid against her shoulder. His face hovered just above hers and his warm breath brushed her temple. Her knees were like pottage. His nearness made her want to press in closer, but if Bartel were to walk in now, she’d be even more embarrassed than she had when Siggy and Heinric had walked in on them before the midday meal. But Gabe’s arm pressing against hers was so exhilarating, and the gentleness of his hands sent pleasant shivers all through her, and when he started rubbing her fingertips inside the cocoon of the towel …

  His warm breath loosed a strand of her hair and it brushed her cheek. She desperately wanted him to kiss her.

  “Someone needs to take out the dishwater.” Sophie’s voice sounded strained and breathless, betraying just how much his touch was affecting her. She stood still as a stone, afraid to move, her head bent, as he took the towel off her hands and threw it on the counter.

  “I’ll take it outside in a moment.” His voice sounded gruff.

  She waited for him to move away. Instead, with slow and deliberate movements, he placed one hand on her shoulder and he cupped her cheek with the other as he turned her body to face him.

  She placed her palms against his chest, feeling as if she were in a slow-moving dream. She couldn’t avoid looking up at him any longer. She met his smoldering eyes, the golden flecks all but swallowed up in the dark brown irises. In their depths, there was only a solemn tenderness as he drew her nearer. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers.

  The world vanished. She was engulfed in warmth and exhilaration and strength — and guilt. But she pushed the guilt away. Her hands slid up his chest and around his neck. He pulled away slightly, then kissed her again. Oh, Gabe.

  The events of the last few days flitted through her mind. Gabe, looking so noble and sure of himself when he’d lifted her onto his horse the day they left Hohendorf. Gabe, so sweet and vulnerable when he’d stared into her eyes after taking the arrow in his shoulder to save her. Now he was kissing her.