Red Magic (11 page)

"Yes."

"If you've still got a pair of
trousers, go ahead and ride that way. I've always thought it stupid to hobble a
talented rider with side saddle simply because she's female."

"Papa thinks he cut up all my
trousers, but I do have one pair that he doesn't know about."

"Good." She caught the sudden
flash of his smile. "I anticipate a splendid ride to Heldenberg with
you."

"Oh, Christoph!
Thank you." After her long confinement, a five day's ride
would be an exciting challenge.

"You are very welcome, little wife. It
will be like the old days when we were playmates."

With that, he leaned over to blow out the
bedside candle and just as always, Caterina heard him settling down to sleep.
In the soft late summer darkness, she stretched out upon that couch that had
been her bed for the last five weeks and prepared to do the same.

A few minutes later, she was upright again.
She had forgotten to practice with the protector. As she sat there, listening
to his steady breathing with the little knife in hand, she felt the stirrings
of uneasiness. In her joy at the idea of a long ride, she had completely
forgotten the important discussion she'd initiated.

* * *

The journey day dawned clear and the bride
went out in a caraco jacket and tricorne. Although her parents looked cross,
she also wore the secret pair of leather seated men's breeches.

On the first day her husband was very easy
and charming. On the second day of their journey, however, he withdrew. As his
big bay paced beside Caterina and Star, he was unusually silent, apparently
lost in thought. As they made their way steadily into choppy foothills,
Caterina said something about the changes in the land. Christoph emerged from
his preoccupation to talk about where they were going. More of that land, he
explained, was occupied by pastures and hay, by oak forest and orchard, than by the extensive
plantations of grain, vines and root crops that were so characteristic of the
warmer, flatter river valley.

"There are longer winters and a far
less good soil than our papas
have
to work with. It's
been a tradition in the von Hagen family for this piece to be the eldest son's,
before he comes into the valley patrimony. If you can make ends meet up on
Heldenberg, you can get the best out of land anywhere."

They were going slowly, the horses picking
their way along a precarious cliff fall stretch of road partly washed out.
"The first few years didn't go so well, but the secret seems to be,
especially for someone who spends as much time away as I do—to get lucky enough
to find a good bailiff. We're not doing splendidly, but well enough for me to
keep too many horses. The fellow I've got now, Walter, has so far kept me out
of trouble. And of course, the mountain forests have some good hunting."

"Too many
horses?"

"Yes. I have a bay foursome,
Hanoverians that should be taken to the Passau
fair. If I don't have to go soldiering next year, I'll do it. With some
training, they'll beat everyone all hollow, I'm sure."

"Oh! Are they big? May I drive
them?"

"Well, the two mares are a perfect
match at about fifteen hands. The two geldings are another hand taller, older
and better trained. You may certainly drive the geldings, but the mares are
young, an uneducated pair of bad girls. I've had them four in hand a few times,
although it was rough work."

"Four in hand!"

Her husband smiled at her enthusiasm and
reined Brandy closer. "We'll have to go driving often, especially you like
it so much."

At the inns every night, they'd lodged in
separate rooms. His big brother neutrality, securely in place most of the time
was occasionally interrupted by remarks that might have a double meaning.

* * *

After three splendid, long days in the
saddle, days in which they arrived hours before their baggage, they reached the
foothills of the great gray mountains. The fertile Donau was now behind them.

That afternoon it started to rain. The
clouds came suddenly, flowing down from the mountains like a ragged black
skirt, trailing lightning and thunder. Inside the first five minutes they were
drenched.

"Do you want to go into the
carriage?" Christoph had moved Brandy closer to ask the question. Water
was dripping in a steady stream from the brim of his three cornered hat.

"No. Why? I'm already soaked to the
skin."

"Well, it's still a rough eight miles
to the Black Swan. The host is expecting us and it's really the only inn in the
area where we don't run the risk of getting lousy."

"Don't worry about me," Cat
replied bravely. "I'll ride there. I've been wet before."

Evidently pleased by her resolve, he gave
her a watery grin and tipped his hat, dumping collected water before pulling it
down again tightly.

"Speak up if it gets to be too much,
Grafin."

On and on they'd plodded, through wind and
a steady rain. The road was now a mass of mud, the horses splashing and
tripping through ruts now brimming with water. As they passed by an inn that
didn't, from the outside, look so bad, Caterina's lips began to chatter. The
rain was relentless, flowing down her back in an icy river and dripping out the
toes of her boots.

By the time they finally reached their
destination, Caterina was cold, soaked through and through. Shudders racked her
thin frame. She was so stiff and numb that for once she didn't disdain the lift
from the saddle her husband offered.

The innkeepers and servants came bustling
into the stormy courtyard giving comfort equally to their noble lodgers,
servants and horses. The room to which Caterina was escorted was comfortably
furnished. It was not only clean, but she was overjoyed to feel how hot it was
from a good fire, already set in the hearth.

"I'll have your trunk sent up at once,
your Ladyship," said Goran, whose heavy blonde moustaches were hanging
like a pair of limp rags under his long nose. Caterina thanked him and went to
stand and shiver near the rosy hearth.

"Supper will come up as soon as we're
dry." Her husband's tall elegance filled the door.

"Wonderful! I'm famished." Although
she tried to stop it, her words were followed by a wrenching shiver.

"The innkeeper's wife wanted to attend
you as you have no maid servant, but I told her that getting us dinner was far
more important. I shall attend you. Sit, Caterina. First, we'll get those boots
off."

She thought she ought to object, but she
was simply too cold and too numb. Christoph knelt before her chair and helped
her haul off the soaked boots.

"What happened to yours?" she
asked. He was already barefoot.

"Goran has already appropriated
mine."

Just as he finished the task, the landlady
popped in with a huge pitcher of hot water and two large towels.

"Always the perfect hostess, Frau
Schwann," said Christoph.

The sturdy goodwife smiled, bobbed, and
went hurrying out again.

"You'll soon see that it was worth
nearly drowning to get here."

Caterina nodded, managed a smile through
her shivers. The people certainly were obliging and friendly.

"Now, I want no dramatic protests of
modesty from you, young woman. You're going to get out of those wet clothes and
I'm going to join you. We'll dry off in front of the fire like a proper husband
and wife."

He had already taken off his wet jacket. As
he hung it over the back of a chair, Caterina said, "Ah—Christoph..."

"Don't be silly. You're going to catch
catarrh if you sit there much longer. Either you undress and rub yourself dry,
or I shall do it for you."

Cat was too cold and uncomfortable to put
much energy into argument. First, though, she hung her jacket and waistcoat on
another chair back. Then, going behind, she began to undress, taking advantage
of the small shelter this offered.

Christoph undressed with his usual matter-of-factness.
The firelight played upon a sinuous rippling as he twisted and turned, first
vigorously rubbing his wet hair and then his body. "Well," he
grinned, dark, curls damply emerging from the towel, "What have you been
doing? Watching?"

"Christoph!"
Caterina flushed.

To her relief he turned and scooped up the
robe Goran had already laid across the trunk. As he was putting it on, Cat took
advantage of his lack of attention by edging closer to the cover of her chair
and pulling up the soaked breeches which she'd been about to drop.

They were so wet that they stuck to her
hips, so she didn't bother to rebutton them.

"Stupid stays," she muttered.
"The leather has gone soggy and my fingers are so cold I can't get them
undone." Knowing that she wouldn't have a maid for the journey, Caterina
had worn a pair of leather front laced stays which she could take on and off
herself. She had not, however, planned on being drenched in them.

"Well, come and I'll undo them. As you
may have heard here and there, I'm an expert."

"Only if you tie your gown
closed."

"If you
insist."

"I most certainly do."

Smiling he obeyed, wrapping the sash around
his waist. Only after he'd got that secured did Cat venture from behind the
safety of her chair.

"Stand still." With great
seriousness he bent his curly head close to her bosom to get a good view of the
task. Caterina stood shivering and watched his big hands, astonishingly
dexterous, work the leather laces loose without stretching or breaking. Outside
the window a brilliant flash, closely followed by a roar, made them both start.

"If it's still at this tomorrow, we
won't go on. The horses are tired out and I don't want you to catch cold."
Then he raised his head. "There," he said with a big grin, "the
gates of paradise are open." He gave the stays a tug.

"Christoph!"
Both hands flew at once to the top of the stays, frantic to hold
them in place.
Underneath lay nothing but a fine, soaked
muslin chemise, prettily raised, no doubt, by rosy cold nipples.
As soon
as she did that, however, he changed his strategy. In the next moment he was
yanking down her breeches.

She tried to turn, to run, but the
breeches, now dropped round her knees, were like hobbles. She began to fall,
but great bear arms caught her.

"Now here's a pretty sight."
Christoph laughed and swung her easily up against his broad chest.
"A fair damsel in distress—and wet leather."

"You put me down!" She pushed at
him, but this only opened the dressing gown and revealed his chest. Shamed by
the tears of frustration that were rising, she punched the nearest thing, one
imposing shoulder.

"What's this?
Tears
from the same Valkyrie who rode thirty hard miles today, more than half of them
in that deluge?
By God, only a wager, and a large one at that, would
have kept your brother out in that."

His eyes caught, held hers. They were full
of a delightfully sexless admiration—horseman to horseman. As he praised, he
was obeying her, too, letting her down, although he did it in such a way that
her slender wet body went sliding against his.

How hard he felt; how easily he'd held her,
as if she were weightless. Without quite understanding, Caterina, rose on her
tiptoes and impetuously gave him a kiss. His arms tightened at once. With his
participation what had begun on impulse bloomed into the sweetness of savoring.
Her skin was chilly and damp, but the hearth was roaring, cooking the flesh
that fronted it. Crushed close, she felt muscles swell as she pressed wet
muslin, cold raised nipples and Aunt Teresina's wooden locket against his
chest. When the tip of an exploring tongue tentatively touched hers, she became
alarmed and pulled her mouth away with a gasp.

"Have you never been kissed like
that?" One arm held her tightly around the
waist,
the hand of the other came to recapture her chin. Cat found herself gazing into
his eyes with their extravagant lashes. A green fire had consumed every trace
of hazel.

"No!"

"Those stable boys of your father's
really were a well behaved lot, weren't they?" A warm chuckle followed.
"I shall have the honor of being first at absolutely everything with you,
sweet Caterina Maria Brigitte."

Dismayed by the look in his eye, the look
of a man who has gained a victory, Cat pushed him.

"No more." She tried hard to
steady her voice, but the command had a quiver in it.

"A very prudent
request."
He seemed regretful, but he let
her go.

"You know, angel, no one would believe
that I've been sleeping in the same room with you for six weeks and haven't
even got round yet to a thorough kissing of that big beautiful mouth of yours.
Still, it's nobody's business but our own—is it?"