Loyal Heart (The Von Wolfenberg Dynasty #1) (5 page)

“I have a suspicion we might find Johann and Kristina at the waterfall,” Sophia said.

She didn’t add that she’d suggested the place confident her brother and his bride-to-be would be there.

She didn’t know what to make of the curious glance her companion sent her way, so she soldiered on. “My brothers brought me there to swim with them once they decided I was no longer their pesky little sister. It’s our favorite place.”

 
When they reached the stream she waved to her brother and his fiancée who were indeed sitting on a rock on the opposite bank tossing stones into the falls. They waved back, though they looked less than pleased by the intrusion.

Brandt chuckled. “When you said
waterfall
, I expected a roaring torrent.”

She looked again at the sparkling stream that cascaded over a series of three falls, each no taller than she was. “There isn’t as much water in the summer. We used to scramble up them in a race to see who could get to the top first. I suppose when I was a child, it seemed higher.”

Certain she was boring him, she nevertheless babbled on. “I never won, of course. ”

He dismounted quickly and came to her side, arms raised. “You’re no longer a child,” he said, his gaze locked with hers.

Unable to offer any coherent reply to the puzzling glint in his eyes, she grasped his broad shoulders when he encircled her waist and lifted her from Mut. It was the first time a man had put his hands on her. For a brief moment she was suspended in mid-air, held firm in his strong grip, flying like a bird. He set her on the rocky ground, but didn’t let go. His warmth seeped into her body. She stared at his chest, then risked a glance at his face.

“I cannot seem to let go, Sophia,” he rasped, his eyes fixed on her face.

Finding strength in his shoulders, she stood on tiptoe, and let herself be drawn to this stranger. Her breasts pressed against his ribs. He bent his head. Her heart raced. She stopped breathing. He was going to lift her, press his lips to hers…

A stone plopped loudly in the water at their feet. He manoeuvred her away from the resulting splash.

She looked over at Johann, dismayed by the scowl on his handsome face.
 

Brandt withdrew. “I apologise,” he said, removing his hands from her waist. “I’ve offended your honor.”

She stepped away, tempted to jump into the deep pool at the foot of the falls. Mayhap the cool water might quench the fire burning within. No wonder her brother scowled. She’d behaved like a peasant.
 

Although, Kristina looked slightly amused.

~~~

Brandt clenched his jaw, irritated that he’d acted like a green peasant lad smitten with the first flush of love.
 

Not love—lust.
 

Lust was drawing him to Sophia. Plain and simple. But lust could lure him to the brink of disaster, like the sirens drew sailors to their doom.

He glanced across at Johann, relieved to see he’d turned his attention back to his bride. He held out his hand and guided Sophia to a flat rock near the water’s edge. Still blushing fiercely, she averted her gaze as she sat.
 

They stared into the babbling brook for long minutes. He avoided looking down at her glorious hair, otherwise his arousal would never subside. No woman had inflamed him like Sophia. He’d lost control of his body, and he prided himself on his self-control. It was what sustained a man through…

“Close your eyes and listen to the water,” she said.

He inhaled deeply and did as she bade. She was right. The tension soon drained from his body. He’d been blind to the beauty of the trees, deaf to the cleansing sounds of water rushing over rocks.

Though he couldn’t see her, he became even more aware of her presence. Her brother sat close by, but in his mind’s eye there was only him and Sophia in a magical glade. “I have never met anyone like you,” he rasped.

When she didn’t reply, he opened his eyes. She was looking up at him. Women had lusted for him before, but he feared he might drown in the longing in Sophia’s green eyes. Yearning for what he could never have welled up in his throat. He should tell her about Dorothea. But that was the least of the obstacles that stood between them, so he said nothing.

She returned her gaze to the water. He imagined her as a child swimming in the deep pool at the foot of the falls, laughing, enjoying being teased by her brothers.

His bleak childhood was something he’d rather forget. He gritted his teeth, resolved to blink away a vision of swimming naked with Sophia, laughing, stroking, suckling, touching and being touched. “We should make our way back,” he said.

She shook her head. “Not yet. Sit with me.”

~~~

It was folly to ask Brandt to sit beside her. The flat rock was a place Sophia had sat many times, but it was barely big enough for two. His thigh pressed against hers and she was suddenly sitting next to Nebuchadnezzar’s fiery furnace.

Her riding gown felt like armor. It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest they take off their clothes and go for a swim. Johann might have something to say about that!

“I love this place,” she whispered in an effort to take her mind off his closeness.

“I can see why,” he replied.

He sounded wistful, so she confessed, “I’ve never been here with any one other than family. Except Kristina of course, but she’s been my best friend forever.”

“I’m honored,” he said.

She wanted to tell him she was glad she’d brought him, that sharing this special place with him was important, though she wasn’t sure why. She held her tongue. He’d think she was being forward.

“You are lucky to have siblings,” he said hoarsely.

The loneliness in his voice touched her heart. “You have no brothers?” she asked.

He shook his head, staring at the water. “Nor sisters.”

Compelled by an urge to dispel his melancholy, she put a hand on his knee. He covered it with his own. She stared at it, tempted to trace a fingertip along the dusting of dark hair on the backs of his long fingers. “Your hand dwarfs mine,” she murmured.

“We shouldn’t touch, Sophia,” he said, pressing her hand against his knee. “Your father wouldn’t approve, and your brother is scowling again.”

An unreasonable pang of jealousy clouded her thoughts. “Johann has no reason to scowl. He’s going to marry his soul mate.”

She instantly regretted the words, but Brandt didn’t withdraw his hand. “He’s a fortunate man,” he said.

~~~

It might have been only minutes that he and Sophia sat side by side, though to Brandt it seemed like hours—a lifetime in fact. Being with her somehow eased the torment of a lonely boy who’d tried without success to earn the love and regard of a harsh father, and finally given up the effort.

He recognised he’d become cynical, steeled himself to feel nothing. Feelings led only to pain. As he stared into Sophia’s waterfall it numbed him to realize he was becoming increasingly like his father.

This Saxon girl had breathed life into his desire to love and be loved, to play and tease and enjoy life. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sun. “Do you believe in soul mates?” he asked.

She tilted her head, mimicking him. “My mother and father are soul mates,” she replied.

“I look forward to meeting your mother.”

“You’ll like her. Everybody does.”

He pictured an older version of the enticing creature next to him. No wonder the count seemed a happy man.

“So are Johann and Kristina,” she declared.

He looked across the stream. The lovers were preparing to leave. “I think you are right,” he said.

“But my parents refused to acknowledge for a long time that they loved each other,” she said softly. “And it took the family’s meddling to get Johann and Kristina to admit their feelings.”

He came to his feet and proffered his hand. “Why do you think that is?” he asked.

She let him pull her up from the rock. “People guard their hearts,” she replied, “because they are afraid to be hurt.”

“You are wise beyond your years, Sophia,” he whispered, tightening his grip on her hand, wishing he could gather her into his embrace.

A hunting horn wailed in the distance. Then again.

“The signal to return to the manor-house,” she explained.

Hand in hand they made their way back to their horses. “I don’t want to leave this place,” he admitted. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He helped her mount and led both horses away from the stream. Once they reached the trail, she slid off her palfrey. “Something is definitely wrong. I think you are right that one leg is bothering him.”

 
Brandt gently ran his hand over Mut’s left front leg. “It’s inflamed. This has been the problem. We’ll have to share Löwe.”

Tears welled in Sophia’s eyes. “I should have listened to you. I’ve compounded his pain.”

Brandt privately agreed, but he was more concerned that riding with Sophia in his lap would make the pleasant stirrings at his groin a whole lot worse. He wanted to kiss away the tears and could barely keep his hands off her as it was. He was relieved yet disappointed when Johann and Kristina appeared out of the trees.

“Mut has gone lame,” she lamented to the newcomers.

“Kristina can ride with me, and you take her horse,” her brother replied without hesitation.

Grinning, Kristina slid from her mount in the blink of an eye. Smiling broadly, Johann hoisted her into his lap.

Nothing for it but to agree. As he lifted Sophia onto Kristina’s horse, he might have caught a glimpse of his own disappointment mirrored in her eyes.

~~~

On their return they passed huntsmen from the estate stringing up a young buck in one of the trees behind the house. “Looks like the hunt was successful,” Brandt said.

The women looked away. “It’s sad to think an hour ago the buck was running free,” Sophia replied.

“Men must eat,” Johann retorted.

“Don’t worry,” Brandt offered. “In this weather they won’t keep him hanging long.”

They discovered the stables were crammed with overheated horses, over-excited men and harried ostlers.
 

Sophia’s father frowned when he noticed Mut was riderless.

“He’s gone lame,” she explained. “Brandt warned me, but I wouldn’t listen.”

Her father arched his brows, evidently surprised she’d used his given name.

Brandt cleared his throat and addressed her father. “It’s an inflammation. Difficult to detect, but common in this kind of heat. Rest won’t be enough. I recommend further treatment.”

Her father tapped the toe of his boot with his riding crop. “I must warn you. The ostlers and stable lads have their hands full at the moment.”

Sophia deemed it unlikely the perpetually grouchy ostler would carry out any instructions he deemed unnecessary, even if he wasn’t overwhelmed with dozens of extra horses. She was about to protest that whatever needed to be done to help her beloved Mut, she would do it, but Brandt spoke first. “Compresses should be applied to his leg, hot followed by cold. Then a liniment, and a mustard poultice. To be kept on all night.”

Sophia clenched her fists. She wanted to help her horse, but tonight was the Maiden’s Banquet, on the morrow the ceremony in which she was to play an important role as the bride’s best friend and sister to the groom. Then there was the wedding feast. There’d be scant time to…

“With your permission, Herr
Graf
,” Brandt said to her father. “I will make sure the horse is well taken care of.”

She wanted to rain kisses of gratitude on his sensuous mouth, but her father’s frown reminded her that this man wasn’t a stable boy. During their talk at the waterfall she’d come to think of him as more than a guest. But they’d been forewarned he was to be watched. Assassinations weren’t unknown. “I couldn’t expect that of you,” she murmured lamely. “You’d miss the festivities.”

His eyes widened. “My pavilion is a short walk away. The ostler must have horse liniment. If instructions are left with the kitchen workers for the compresses and the poultice, I will leave Mut in the capable hands of my men. Vidar will know what to do while I am at the
festivities
.”

He was teasing her. She knew it from the glint in his eye and the way his mouth edged up at the corners with a hint of a smile. Yet there was something else in his expression. Wistfulness? Sadness? Resignation?

It was unlikely he’d come to the wedding willingly, a lone
Franken
trapped in the midst of a celebration deep in Saxon territory. He wasn’t yet a count, and must be keenly aware of the insult Duke Conrad had offered in sending him. He probably couldn’t wait to leave. If anyone was in danger of being assassinated…

She’d seen an unexpectedly vulnerable side of him at the waterfall, and her throat constricted at the ghastly thought of this beautiful man lying dead in a pool of blood.

She swatted away a pesky horsefly, grateful nevertheless that the buzzing insect had jolted her back to the stable. Her father tapped the riding crop against his palm. “Sophia, perhaps you could inform Cook that soldiers will be sent to fetch the items necessary to help your horse?”