The Fairest Beauty (6 page)

But how can I ever know for sure?
“So you have no proof that I’m Duke Baldewin’s daughter?”

“No, I don’t. Do you know anyone who might know? Someone who knew the duke or his first wife? Which servants have been here the longest?”

Petra. She had come after the first duchess had died but before the duke had passed away — almost sixteen years ago. When Sophie was younger, Petra would sometimes tell her stories of the duke and how much he had loved his little daughter.

Oh
. The hair on the back of her neck seemed to stand on end. “Petra would know.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She cleared her throat. “But why do you care?”

“Because if you are Duke Baldewin’s daughter, you are betrothed.”

“Betrothed?”

“To my brother Valten Gerstenberg, the Earl of Hamlin, who will someday be the Duke of Hagenheim.”

Sophie felt as if the world had gone quite still.

“Duke Baldewin and my parents were friends, and they arranged the marriage when Duke Baldewin’s daughter was only a baby. After the duke remarried, the duke and the new duchess only met once with my parents, and that was to sign the betrothal agreement. My brother was only six years old, but he remembers.”

Sophie watched the stranger’s mouth as he spoke, as if seeing the words forming on his lips as well as hearing them would help her make sense of everything he said. Was she Duke Baldewin’s daughter? Was she betrothed? It was too strange to comprehend.

“If I am to marry your brother, why are you here? Why didn’t
he
come to take me away from the duchess?” The thought — that she belonged to someone who would care for her and save her from the duchess — was so beguiling that it frightened her. Such things didn’t happen, and if she started to believe in them, her disappointment would crush her.

“My brother wanted to come as soon as he heard you might be alive. But he broke his leg in a tournament less than a week before.”

“So he sent you. Alone.”

“Well, he didn’t
send
me.” Gabe rubbed his chin and shifted his feet, a wry half smile on his face. “My brother and father wanted me to wait until they could come with me, but I came without their permission.”

“Why?”

“Pinnosa said you were in danger.” He bent to pick up a stick and appeared to be examining it, turning it between his
fingers. “I didn’t want anything to happen to you while my brother’s leg healed.”

Again, she wondered if he was telling the truth. But if it was all a lie, why wouldn’t he simply say that
he
was her betrothed? If he wanted to take advantage of her, why make up the story about his brother? They stood with nothing to break the silence except a bird cawing in the distance and the occasional muffled banging of a pot in the kitchen nearby. Finally Sophie turned and began dipping candles again. Her thoughts echoed around in her head, confusing her.

“I’ve only known you an hour and already you’ve lied repeatedly. Why should I believe you?”

He let out an exasperated breath behind her. He was angry. Good. Maybe he would let the truth slip from his lying lips.

“I don’t even know if you are the duke’s daughter. If you are, then I’m here to help you. If you don’t believe me …” He let his voice trail off.

“If I did believe you — which would be the height of foolishness — can you explain how you plan to get away from the duchess without her killing us both?” The awful truth was Sophie desperately wanted to believe him. To be wanted, to belong to someone, to be betrothed … it filled her chest with the most delightful warmth and light.

And to be proven a fool will only lead to coldness and pain
.

She hung another candle on the line. Gabe grabbed her hand and stood in front of her, compelling her to look into his eyes. She took a step back.

“Take me to this servant, Petra. We will ask her together if you are Duke Baldewin’s daughter.”

She closed her mouth and tried to veil her expression so he wouldn’t know how his words filled her with hope and joy, how the thought that he believed it was possible she wasn’t simply a poor servant encouraged her. To show emotion was to become
vulnerable. And Sophie should never allow herself to become vulnerable to anyone who had the power to hurt her.

She was almost afraid to ask Petra, to find out the truth. After all, would Gabe’s brother still want her after he saw how untaught she was in the ways and manners of noble society? When he saw that she had no idea how to behave like a proper duchess? When he realized she was awkward and clumsy, as the duchess was always telling her, that she was ugly and too wicked for anybody to ever care for?

But Petra told her she shouldn’t believe any of those things the duchess said about her.

And if Petra told her she wasn’t the duke’s daughter …

The crackle of breaking twigs drew Sophie’s gaze to the forest at the edge of the courtyard. Lorencz emerged from the shadow of the trees.
Another man I know better than to trust
. His eyes were focused on Sophie and Gabe as he strode toward them. He stopped and stared, then called out a cautiously friendly, “Ho, there.”

Gabe nodded, meeting Lorencz’s stare. “
Guten Morgen
.”

The scar above the huntsman’s cheek seemed to stand out. The two stared at each other until Sophie broke the silence.

“Lorencz, this is Gabe, a pilgrim from Hungary. Gabe, this is Lorencz the huntsman.”

They appeared to be sizing each other up. The stranger was not as brawny as Lorencz, but he was just as tall and held his head high. He couldn’t have looked less like a humble traveler.

Finally, Lorencz nodded, as though dismissing Gabe, then turned to Sophie and eyed her in a way that made her wary. “Are you ready for our picnic?”

The huntsman had come at a very inopportune
time, and it didn’t seem to Gabe as if Sophie wanted to go with him.

“I’ll fetch our food.” Lorencz seemed oblivious to her strained smile and stiff posture.

As soon as the overconfident lout disappeared inside the kitchen, Gabe turned to Sophie. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to be alone with him? You could turn him away.”

“I know that.” She tried to look stern, but her eyebrows came together and her expression gradually changed. She hesitated, then whispered, “Since you are determined not to leave, I only ask that you don’t confront Duchess Ermengard just yet. Wait until I return, and I will tell you how you must approach her and what you must say if she summons you. There are rules you must follow if you hope not to incite her wrath. You have no idea how quickly she can become enraged.”

Sophie appeared more worried about him than about herself.

“Don’t worry. I won’t say anything to provoke her.”

“It may not seem provoking —”

The huntsman came out of the kitchen carrying a large basket and walked past Gabe as though he were a tree stump. Gabe didn’t trust him.

Sophie started out beside Lorencz, turned, and gave Gabe a pointed look. He winked at her.

She frowned and turned away.

Gabe waited until they were out of sight, then followed.

Sophie wasn’t sure she could trust Lorencz, but she always carried a small knife on her person. She’d only had to use the eating utensil as a weapon once, but at least she knew she was capable of defending herself.

“Isn’t this far enough?” Sophie halted in a clearing near the stream bank.

Lorencz smiled. “Don’t you trust me?”

“No, not particularly.”

He ignored her comment and said, “I had a more beautiful spot in mind, with wildflowers and forest strawberries …”

“I’d rather stop here.”
Best to stand my ground with him
.

He frowned, but only for a moment. He stooped to set down the basket and pull out a blanket, which he handed to Sophie to spread on the ground.

She helped him set out the food — more than Sophie ate in three whole days — and was careful not to let even her fingers touch his as he handed her the cheese, loaf of bread, dried fruit, fried pies, cold meat, and wine skin.

Sophie’s stomach growled.

Lorencz laughed. “Hungry?” He gave her a wolfish smile.

She blushed but didn’t say anything.

He lifted the hunk of bread toward his mouth.

“Stop!” She’d uttered it automatically and could feel her blush deepen.

He halted, his mouth open, just as he was about to bite.

“We must first thank God for the food.”

He raised his eyebrows at her and frowned.

Ignoring him, Sophie bowed her head and clasped her hands. “We thank you, O Lord, for this food, and we bless it for your name’s sake. Grant that all who partake of it may obtain health of body and safety of soul. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

When she looked up, Lorencz was staring at her with a slightly bemused look.

“Don’t you pray?” she asked.

“No.”

Her distaste must have shown on her face, because he cleared his throat and said, “But I have never known how. Perhaps you could teach me.”

His words and sly stare didn’t exactly evoke any belief in his sincerity. She wanted to believe she could trust the man … unfortunately, she could not summon any.

But he was asking her to teach him. It would be wrong to refuse, even if he wasn’t earnest.

“Praying is simple.” Faintly, she remembered the words of the young priest who had taught her so many years ago. “You must do four things. You must tell God that you are thankful, ask his blessing, acknowledge that he is God, and pray through Jesus.”

“And say ‘amen’ at the end?”

Sophie nodded.

“Sounds easy enough.” He smiled at her and once again raised the piece of bread to his lips. His eyes never left her face.

Sophie bit into her bread and chewed. She had missed breakfast that morning, since she had slept late after her long night of nursing, but it was hard to eat with Lorencz staring at her.
O God, what are his intentions? Would he help me get away from here?
She stared back at him, trying to read his thoughts and his character.

Lorencz offered her more food, giving her portions of everything he had brought. Before she had even tasted it all, her stomach was full.

“Try this,” he urged. “You’re too thin. You need to eat more.”

Sophie shook her head and ignored the way he was pointing at the food in front of her. She didn’t like him saying she was too thin. No man wanted a skinny wife.
Will the stranger’s brother think I am too skinny?

She was being silly. He probably didn’t even have a brother.

She let down her guard a bit and stretched her arm behind her, leaning back on her hand. Her eyelids were heavy. If she closed her eyes she would go right to sleep.

“Tired?”

She snapped her eyes open. “I am well.”
What came over me?
She had to keep herself alert.

“You’re a very beautiful young woman, Sophie.” Lorencz had moved closer to her while her eyes had been closed. Now he sat close enough to put his arm around her.

Sophie sat up straight, smoothing her skirt and making sure her ankles were covered. Her thin shoes had slipped off her feet, and she fumbled to put them back on again. When she looked up, Lorencz was leaning so close his face was only a handbreadth away.

Her heart thumped wildly at his nearness — not because she was excited to be near him, she realized, but because she was afraid of what he intended to do next.
Please, God, don’t let him be about to try to take advantage of me. I would hate to have to cut him
.

His hand was suddenly touching her cheek. She scooted away, out of his reach, and he let his hand fall.

“I don’t mean to frighten you.” He lifted his hand again. “You are so beautiful.”

This time she slapped his hand away and stood up. The pained look on his face almost made her pity him. But that was a foolish sentiment that would get her in trouble. He’d only take advantage of her pity.

“It’s time we were getting back.” Sophie shot him a warning glare. “I have my work to do, and you undoubtedly have yours.” She bent to pick up their picnic leavings from the blanket, tossing them into the basket.

Lorencz took a step toward her, but Sophie looked him in the eye. “If you have impure ideas about me,
Herr
Huntsman, I’m afraid I shall be forced to frustrate you in your purpose.” She injected forceful coldness into her voice.

“It is you who are mistaken,
Fraulein
Sophie. I have nothing but the utmost respect for you.”

“If you respected me, you would keep your hands to yourself.” She gave him a piercing look before snatching up the blanket and quickly folding it.

Instead of looking angry, he laughed. He picked up the basket as she was reaching for it, so Sophie let him have it, turning and heading back through the dense forest of evergreens and beech trees.

They walked along in silence for a few moments. Then Lorencz said in a deep, low voice, “Sophie? Don’t you like me?” He walked so close to her side that his right arm brushed her left.

Sophie drew back from the contact. “I hardly know you.”

Lorencz said nothing. They were almost back to the castle, though still in the cover of the trees, when Lorencz grabbed her arm and spun her to face him, pulling her against his chest. Sophie clutched the blanket, which served as a shield between them.

“I can take you away from this demesne. If we leave now, we might be able to get away from her.”

“Why should I trust you?” She leaned her body as far away from him as she could, searching his eyes.

“I will marry you. We’ll go so far away she’ll never find us.”

He put his arms around her, pulling her more firmly against his torso — and the blanket.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Think about this when you’re deciding whether to believe me.” He kissed her so hard and so suddenly she didn’t have time to react.

The moment he relaxed his hold on her, she stumbled backward and stared at him, still holding the blanket up in front of her. He stared back at her.

Sophie’s cheeks heated.
How dare he kiss me!
“Try that again,” she said, her breath coming fast in her fury, “and you’ll get a bleeding even a barber cannot mend.”

He’d forced a kiss on her, and she hadn’t even been able to reach for her knife. Was the large meal slowing her down and fogging her brain? She was still alert enough to wonder if he would truly marry her and take her away from here. Hadn’t she thought just last week, when he visited her in the dungeon, that if anyone could help her escape it was Lorencz? But could she trust him to marry her? Besides, she wasn’t sure she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

And there was the stranger, Gabe. What if he was telling the truth? She had to talk to Petra.

Lorencz smirked at her. “Meet me tonight, in the courtyard, and we’ll go for a walk.”

“No.”

“Then meet me tomorrow morning.”

“I have work to do.”

“Before breakfast, then, at daybreak.”

“Why?”

The skin around Lorencz’s scar turned a dark red. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Plenty of other maidens would eagerly accept the chance to walk with me tonight. If you don’t come, perhaps I will ask someone else.”

“I think that’s a splendid idea.”

“How will you ever learn to trust me if you don’t spend time with me?”

“It is a problem, but it is not mine to solve.”

Someone was nearby, and they both turned their heads toward the noise of rustling leaves and cracking twigs. The stranger, Gabe, emerged into view.

“Pardon me,” he apologized. “Were you two conversing?”

“What are you doing?” Lorencz asked irritably.

“Taking a walk.”

Lorencz looked him up and down. “You say you are a pilgrim, but you don’t have the look of a pilgrim.” The huntsman’s voice was impatient. “Your boots are too fine, your hands too soft looking. You’d be wise to get yourself back to wherever you came from. Go back to your easy life.”

“Whatever my life was before I came here is not your concern.” Gabe’s voice was quiet but thick with warning. “And I don’t take orders from huntsmen.”

“Who do you take orders from, then? What is your business here?” Lorencz narrowed his eyes dangerously. Without giving Gabe a chance to answer, he went on. “See that you stay out of my way. This
huntsman
doesn’t play games with
pilgrims
.” He brushed past the stranger, knocking him sideways with his shoulder.

Gabe watched him go, wishing he could punch that oaf for kissing Sophie.

Gabe turned to Sophie. “You know that man is trying to seduce you, don’t you?”

“I don’t answer to you. I have work—”

“I thought you were going to help me plan what to say to Duchess Ermengard.”

“I was.” Sophie moved past him on her way into the courtyard, and Gabe followed several feet behind.

She hesitated as Lorencz came out of the kitchen, waiting
until he walked away before dashing through the door he’d just exited. She came back minutes later without the blanket and glared at Gabe, as if he were to blame for all her life’s ills. He waited for her to speak, hoping he could convince her he was nothing like the huntsman and thus worthy of her trust.

She crossed her arms and seemed to be looking him over and thinking. “You need to have a plan. If the duchess becomes aware of your presence, she’ll want to know what you’re doing here and why.” She frowned. “You must decide now what you will say.”

“I’ll ask her if I can stay for a few days and play my lute for her.”

“Why?”

“I’ll say I want to earn some money before going on with my pilgrimage.”

“Oh no. That will not do.” Sophie clasped her hands together and stared at the ground. She whispered, “You have to make it sound like you’re doing something nice for her, that you admire her so deeply you can’t help but play music for her. And you certainly don’t expect payment.”

“Very well. I can do that.” He tried not to smile at the extreme concern she was displaying.

“Let her know you don’t expect her to provide your meal tonight or your bed. She doesn’t like it when unexpected visitors arrive and ask to bed down anywhere on the castle knoll, even in the stable or with the servants. Tell her you have a place to sleep in the village.”

He nodded, although he was a little skeptical, after his cold reception, that he could find a place in the village to bed down. But perhaps, if he tried again, he could find people willing to speak about Sophie — or Duke Baldewin and his daughter.

She went on, still whispering as she stoked up the fire under the large kettle in the center of the courtyard and added more
wood. “Pay her several compliments. She expects it. But be tactful. And remember, you don’t expect any reward.” She paused a moment to stare vacantly into the trees.

“And you probably shouldn’t say you’re a pilgrim.” She grabbed a long wooden spoon and began to stir the hot wax. “No, you’re a troubadour on your way to the fair. You heard of her beauty and wished to come and admire her and write songs about her. That should do it, as long as Lorencz and Walther don’t say anything to contradict you.” Her satisfied look changed into a frown. “But do take that ring off your finger. You’re trying to look poor, not like a rich man playing at being a vagabond.”

Gabe wrenched the ring off, feeling foolish for having forgotten such an obvious thing, and thrust it into his pocket.

She pointed at his feet. “And your shoes. They’re much too fine for a troubadour.”

He bent down and smeared mud on his boots so that it was difficult to see what material they were made of, then he looked down at himself — he didn’t see anything else that would betray his true status. He thrust his hands, mud and all, into his hair and mussed it, rubbing the dirt into the strands until they were surely sticking out everywhere.