Red Magic (8 page)

She turned and ran toward the window, fully
intending to hurl herself out, but he came in three great strides and caught
her around the waist.

A moment later she was tumbled onto the
bed, his strong body holding her down. Once he'd established control of her
whirlwind arms, he forced them up over her head.

"Let me go!"

"Not until you promise to calm down.
You little fool, you could have killed yourself." Caterina turned her head
away.

"Caterina," he said, staring down
at her in dismay, "what on earth is going on? I knew you were grieving for
Wili and angry with me, but I thought that down at the bottom you and I were
friends."

"I never was your friend!" Then
she added, "Christoph, please move. I can't breathe."
"Good," he replied. Nevertheless, he did shift his weight a little.
"I thought I was your favorite person in the world, at least for a
gallop." His eyes were full of puzzlement and hurt. "Did I frighten
you when I said I wanted a kiss?"

"No! I'm not frightened of
anyone."

"I am your husband, you know. Mother Church
says I'm entitled to not only a kiss this morning, but quite a bit more..."
He lowered his handsome curly head and began to tentatively nuzzle against her
cheek. The sensation was perversely exciting—and maddening.

"Don't. I hate you, Christoph von
Hagen!"

"Because of how I
treated Wili?
Or because I
made love to her?
Or because I said that someday I hoped we might enjoy
being married to each other?"

When she remained silent, his face grew
sad. "Well, maybe you have cause to hate me, but she had better. Somehow,
though, dear Wili never could hate. All those times she took me back, all those
injured birds and rejected lambs and lost kittens she was always rescuing. Your
sweet sister didn't have an unkind bone in her body."

His beautiful hazel eyes spilled over.
"And I freely admit that I've been the biggest fool that ever was, that
I've a lot to make up for. You know, Cat, I almost died this past winter.
There's nothing like that to get a fellow thinking. And then a thing happened
on my way here, something with a lady in Vienna, that made me decide to change
myself, made me realize, once and for all, what a cold hearted bastard
I've—"

"I don't want to hear about your
mistresses!"

The anger Cat saw in his eyes wasn't
surprising, but the pain was.

"She was and is a lady,
Caterina," he said, "in spite of what she did with me. And you had
better learn to think before you speak. We're married now, damn it, roped
together till death do us part."

She had begun to struggle again, but,
strong as she was, he had no trouble holding her.

"Do you know how easy it would be to
just do what your papa wants, to get between your pretty legs and start making
that baby they all want, with or without your assistance?"

"Go ahead." She was shaking, but
still defiant. "Stop talking and be the brute you really are."

"Oh, Caterina!"
Christoph shook his dark curly head and sighed despondently.
Without another word, he sat up and let her go. "You really are a trial.
Especially for a man with a broken heart, a hangover and a cut
foot."

Cat rubbed her wrists and quickly rolled
away from him, but he no longer seemed interested in what she was doing.

"Would you help me bandage this?"
Sitting up, he pulled a foot into his lap.

At once Cat saw a trail of blood. The foot
he was inspecting steadily dripped red. "I stepped on china," he
explained, indicating the shards which lay about the floor.

"Um—let's just use this."
Suddenly ashamed, she began to tug at the bottom of her petticoat.

"You don't mind ruining it?"

She was doubly annoyed when she couldn't
tear it, so she offered him the hem. In his hands it came away as easily as if
the cloth were rotten. Then, in a practiced manner, he bound his foot.

Food and bits of porcelain were scattered
everywhere. Feeling ill at ease and not knowing exactly what to do, Cat got out
of bed, knelt and began to pile china and food on the tray. The smashed eggs,
the butter and hot tea made the floor quite slippery.

Christoph sat watching her pensively.

"I think what it needs is
stitching." The makeshift bandage was already turning red. "Can you
do it?"

"Mama will have to. Wili could have,
but I'm afraid I'd just tear bigger holes in you."

"Wili wouldn't have tossed the
breakfast on the floor either and I'd be eating your Mama's excellent food and
kissing and cuddling instead of brawling with you, crazy brat."

Overwhelmed, Cat slammed the tray down on
the table and burst into tears. It was true. Her sister would have been as
happy this morning as she was miserable. As she leaned against the table and
wept, he stood and then shuffled close. Big arms firmly enclosed her and Cat
was drawn against him, against that beautiful, muscular body that every other
girl in the valley dreamed of.

"Please. Don't."

"Oh, Caterina," he said softly,
irresistibly turning her to face him. "Why are you like this? It's me,
Christoph. I've never, ever forced a woman and I don't intend to start with my
own little cousin. Believe
me,
I'm so damnably sorry
about what has happened. I thought that if I married Wili it would make amends
for everything. I thought I would come back here and make a clean start, make
our papas happy, and make Wili happy at last. Listen to me, Cat. That's the
same speech I made to Wili. She understood. She forgave
me,
she loved me, but, God, how wrong it's gone."

He drew her close. Even though her cheek
was pressed against his bare, broad chest, even though she was experiencing for
the first time all the sensations of intimacy, catching the scent of his man's
body, feeling his muscle-taut skin, this was indisputably not love
making. Caterina turned her face towards him like a baby and let go of a brief,
intense shower of tears against that formidable chest. Maybe he shed some too,
for a series of tremors ran through him. The whole time his strong hands were
comforting her, stroking the heavy, loose hair that fell in a fiery cascade
down her long back.

"There, there," he murmured after
awhile, "Just a little touch of you, my pretty Kitty Cat, to comfort us
both."

He tilted her chin, used his thumbs to
gently wipe away her tears. Somehow, in spite of the fact that she was so close
to this nearly naked, splendid body, there was now nothing fearful about it.
"We'll have to go out there eventually," he said, putting her hair
back from her face, big brother fashion, "and then, pretty Red, your papa
will want to see proofs that his grandson has been started."

Naturally, Cat went rigid when he said
that, but he just smiled sadly.

"Don't worry, Cat. We've got a way to
fool him. Take a look at the back of your petticoat." When Cat took the
soft folds of muslin in hand and pulled it around, she was surprised to
discover a long streak of red on the back.

"It's probably from my foot. Your
nightgown fell in it while you were down on the floor picking up. I caution you
though, don't tell anyone our secret, not your favorite maid,
not
even your mama. Your papa, not to mention mine, will
have an apoplexy if he learns how this really went."

Cat nodded meekly. Inside she felt a wild
surge of relief.

"We'll have to put up with some
teasing and I'm sure your mama will question you."

In a courtly gesture, he caught her long
hands and kissed them, one after the other. "So do we understand each
other at last, Lady von Hagen? You have not only a new husband, but a whole new
man to get to know. Shall we have a treaty? Keep the secret so that our fathers
may continue to live, so that Theo and Max and all the others don't die
laughing?"

"Of course," she said, fighting
off the perverse tremor which his touch, his ever so careful touch, set off.

"Good. And I promise that if any of
our cousins start, I'll break their heads or their arms, whichever is
handiest." The chuckle that followed was harsh, as if this morning he'd
enjoy doing that. "As for you, you're going to have to be on guard with
your mama and that nosy Wagenspurg woman. She could worm a confession out of
the Pope."

Caterina smiled because this was true.

"You have my word, Caterina. I'm going
to take good care of you."

During this speech he'd tipped her chin and
with a thumb executed a caressing tracery of her mouth. If he had done it only
a half an hour ago she would have raged at him, but now, although it was an
encroachment, she let it happen, let the chill course through her.

How hard it was going to be to deny him,
how dangerous to allow those hands, those experienced, knowing hands, to touch.
The gentle kiss in the chapel, the just performed tracery of
her lips, why did it compel her so?

Was it because of the magnetism of his
health, his strength, his purebred conformation? Suddenly, in spite of all that
had happened, all that she'd said and sworn, it was just like that long ago day
by the river. Her veins ran fire.

"Now, the kiss I asked for
earlier," he said.
"To seal our peace."
Caterina's arms, moving by themselves, went around his neck. To be held so
easily in his strong arms, to experience all these interesting sensations was
so beguiling…

His mouth was firm on
hers,
the touch of his scratchy one day beard grazed her chin. She could feel his
curls against the arm she had around his neck. Christoph was gentle, not even
pursuing the tempting response of her parted lips.

"There," he said, releasing her.
"Peace is declared. There will be no force. There has been more than
enough of that employed by our fathers in bringing us together."

"I shall rely upon your word, Herr
Graf." Caterina, still within his arms, desperately hoped that the spoken
formality would master her racing heart.

"The time isn't now, not for either of
us. Someday though, I think it will certainly be the greatest honor to cover
every satin, gold dusted inch of you with kisses."

At the same moment, he released her. Cat
stepped back, feeling rather foolish. All she could think of to say was:
"Will you call for my mama now, Herr Graf?"

Chapter Six

Christoph called to his Hauptmann, Goran,
who promptly came thumping on his wooden leg down the hall to unlock the door.
Then her husband went out to dress in an adjoining chamber. Lady von Velsen
entered with servants and began exclaiming at once over the wrecked china.

Caterina was sternly set to washing and
dressing. At first her mother was immovable, but eventually the rumbles that
came from the stomach of her daughter persuaded her to relent and have another
pot of tea and some bread and butter sent from the kitchen.

"It's more than you deserve, though.
Creating another scene this morning! I didn't think I'd live to see the day,
but your husband has got all my admiration. He's showing the restraint of a man
twice his age. Frankly, you deserve to starve until dinner."

There were questions, too, after the
servants had gone. To these Cat made no answer, although her fair skin reddened
furiously.

Of course, Lady von Velsen believed she
knew what that meant. When the maid tried to gather up the stained shift, Mama
took charge of it.

"The Landrat will want to see."
She gave Cat a motherly look, but her daughter steadfastly refused to meet her
eyes.

Caterina remained in the room until
Christoph came to take her down to dinner. When she saw him again, dressed in a
suit of dark green with plentiful lace at collar and cuffs, his dark curls
brushed to a shine and falling over broad shoulders, Cat was beset by another
of those traitorous moments of exultation. There wasn't another man anywhere to
match him.

Arm in arm they walked into the crowded
great room. It seemed that little had changed from last night. The place was
still crowded with neighbors and cousins and all those extra servants. When a
chorus of cheers and giggles greeted them, Christoph patted Cat's arm and sent
a solemn, cautioning look around the room. Cat held up her chin, but felt the
damnable blush coming on. She knew that there wasn't an imagination in the room
that wasn't running wild.

* * *

Christoph's nature was demonstrative and
affectionate. In public, he touched her. His hands glided down her long back,
lingered tenderly. Cat accepted it, understanding that this was a necessary
part of the deception. Meanwhile that renegade desire which had taken up
residence gloried. There were times when she couldn't repress the flush of
pleasure that came when his arm slipped around her.

In private, however, he was formal. All the
time they stayed at her parent's house, Cat slept on the sofa, her man in the
bed.