The Legacy (24 page)

He pointed. “What in the name of God is wrong with that woman?”

Bea laughed, as did the others. Sabina blushed furiously.

“Oh, Master Günter. I am certain she did not know who you were,” Bea answered. “She must have mistaken you for one of those awful men trying to take over the city. Master Wolf’s out with the armed patrols even now.”

His green eyes, strangely familiar, traveled over her. The resemblance to both Wolf and Peter became unmistakable in one glance, as did the chiseled set of his jaw and his unusual height. His hair was lighter, nearly blond, making an interesting contrast with his dark eyebrows, but otherwise, it was obvious he was their relation.

How could she have missed it? He must think her a fool.

She noticed other things now, too—the wooden cane upon which he leaned, though he seemed as vital as his brothers; the mismatched, slashed clothing of the professional soldier, the bright colors nearly hidden beneath the dirt. She realized how long she had been staring at him when he arched one of those dark brows and returned her regard with obvious interest.

“Well, mayhap I’ll let her make it up to me,” he said, a sensual smile tugging at his mouth. “Come, wench. You can help me with my bath.”

The shocked silence greeting his remark must have given him a clue all was not as it appeared. He glanced inquisitively at the embarrassed faces of the servants, at Franz when he cleared his throat.

“What, is she already spoken for?” he asked, in a way that indicated it was merely a petty obstacle to be overcome.

“Allow me to introduce your new sister, Master Günter. The baronesse Sabina von Ziegler, now
Frau
Behaim.
Frau
Wolfgang Behaim,” he clarified while Günter’s stunned gaze swung back to her.

Sabina, suddenly amused by the whole situation, clasped her hands in front of her.

“Pleased to meet you,
brother
Günter. I do apologize for my rather unusual greeting. I was mistaken, as Bea said. Of course you are welcome. Allow me to make you comfortable. I will have a bath drawn immediately and,” she added impishly, “send a
boy
up to see to your needs.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “The day I need a boy to see to my needs is the day I have someone shoot off my—”

“Master Günter!” Bea said in shocked warning.

“—head,” he finished with lazy humor.

Sabina stifled a laugh. There was no point encouraging him.

He leaned on his cane again, eyeing her with casual disregard for propriety, but she could tell his nonchalant gaze hid a keen interest.

“So, Wolf has finally come to his senses and found himself a wife. A fetching one, too.” A wicked gleam shone in his eyes, and his husky voice dropped a notch. “Come and give your new brother a kiss.”

This time she did laugh. “I will do no such thing. Let us shake hands instead. Surely it will do as well, and will not shock the servants nearly as much.”

“I suppose,” he said with an exaggerated sigh, and held out his hand.

Sabina took it. His rough fingers swallowed hers while he leaned the cane into his hip. He stared at her, his gaze penetrating to her soul.

“Ah, but perhaps the honeymoon is over?” he said so softly only she could hear.

She realized the evidence of her earlier tears must still linger on her face. She did not answer, but raised a self-conscious hand to her cheek. He smoothly changed the subject.

“Where is my little niece?” he asked loudly, and released Sabina’s hand. He unbuckled his sword from the neck strap hanging over his back and handed it to Franz. It made Sabina shiver just to look at it—the thing was nearly as tall as she, and had been honed to a fine edge.

“Don’t worry,” Günter said with an amused smile, noting her gaze. “It does not bite … unless, of course, you’re on the wrong end of it.” He grinned at her wide-eyed expression. “So, where is that little hellion of mine? Gisel is the only reason I come here, you know,” he told Sabina in a mock whisper.

As if summoned by magic, a door flung open and little Gisel bounded in. Nurse Barbara, who always seemed to be just one step behind Gisel, came hurrying in after her.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Gisel cried, and raced over to him. She leapt on him, and though he caught her, Sabina did not miss his quick grimace of pain.

“Gisel … a lady never wrestles a gentleman,” Sabina said quickly. She gently disengaged her stepdaughter, and gave her a brief hug to soften the rebuke. “We do not want him to get a big head over how happy you are to see him, now, do we?”

Gisel looked at her, draped Sabina’s hands over her shoulders, and good-naturedly nodded her head in agreement. Then she blithely asked the question everyone else had been too circumspect to inquire.

“What happen?” Gisel asked, pointing at the cane.

Günter looked into the face of the guileless three-year-old and smiled, apparently recovered from his momentary weakness. He leaned closer.

“Ah, too many pretty girls chasing me. I tried to tell them I was saving myself for you, but they wouldn’t listen. I tripped in my haste to get away, and there you have it.”

Gisel giggled. Even she appeared to recognize a tall tale when she heard it.

“What did you brought me?”

“Well, let me see,” he said thoughtfully, and dug around in his knapsack for a moment.

“Ah, here it is.” He pulled out a rough wooden box and squatted down while he opened it, drawing from it the most beautiful miniature porcelain cup Sabina had ever seen. He laid it in his palm, which was covered with worn woven gloves with the fingertips cut off. Inside the box were at least half a dozen more cups, packed in a soft cloth. What it must have taken to carry those perfect, tiny cups around the countryside, despite raging wars and God knew what else, to give to this little girl said volumes about this man. Sabina blinked rapidly, refusing to cry over such a blatantly sentimental act.

“Oh, pretty,” Gisel said with awe.

He shook his hair back from his face. “Does it match the pieces you already have? I couldn’t remember.”

Gisel nodded wordlessly, and threw her arms about her uncle. She hugged him fiercely, love shining in her eyes.

No wonder Gisel loved him. Sabina concluded half the women in the countryside were probably in love with him.

“Fräuline
Gisel, we should let your uncle get cleaned up and rest,” Franz interjected. “He must be very tired from his travels.”

A subtle signal from Franz and the servants—all except Bea—scurried away, belatedly remembering their places. Nurse Barbara led a happily chattering Gisel to the nursery to place the cups with their mates. Sabina noticed even the plump nurse casting flirtatious glances over her shoulder at Günter, glances he returned with casual aplomb.

“Please, allow us to welcome you properly,” Sabina said after they had departed.

“Well, now, if you want to welcome me properly …” Günter responded with a drawl.

She could tell it was just a reflex born from years of flirting. Anyone could see he was indeed exhausted. It occurred to her, his eyes held a weariness sleep could never cure, though he would likely deny it.

“Brother Günter, you will behave yourself, and Franz will take good care of you. Is that not so, Franz?” Sabina asked.

“Yes, my lady,” Franz answered with a small grin.

“Hmmm. Usually I get better taken care of by women when I
don’t
behave myself,” Günter said with a half-smile.

Sabina elevated a brow. He could not mistake her warning.

“Very well, very well.” Still, his eyes twinkled.

Franz bowed and took his leave to busy himself with the arrangements.

“I hope your trip home was uneventful,” Sabina said.

“Yes, if you don’t count the terrible storm we braved on the ship.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “God, give me the life of a soldier over that of a sailor any day.”

“You sailed here?”

“At the time, it was the shortest and most efficient route. I’ll rejoin with my contingent on horseback, however.”

“Will you be staying long this time?” Bea asked Günter.

A shadow crossed his face. “I am afraid not. The Emperor has further need of my services. I came home only on account of Papa. Wolf’s letter reached me too late to be of any service to the family, but I have questions I think only he can answer … about everything that happened.”

“I am sorry about your father,” Sabina offered. “I did not know him, but I am certain he must have been a fine man.”

“And why is that?” he asked.

The question took her aback. “Well, I believe there is a saying that the acorn does not fall far from the tree. Both of your brothers have impressed me as fine men.”

“Yes … well, truth be told, I fear they take after Mama more than Papa. I, however, have often been accused of being more like him than I can account for.”

“Accused? What a peculiar word to use,” Sabrina mused.

Bea interrupted them. “Master Günter, you should get off that leg. It looks like it bothers you. If you will tell me what the matter is, perhaps I can make up a poultice for it.”

“Sweet Bea,” he said with affection, “that won’t be necessary. It’s just a leftover wound from a bit of shot the surgeon pried out of me in the field. Since I have managed not to expire from infection these past few days, I think I shall live.” He rubbed his leg absently. “It only hurts when I walk on it too much, which I have done today. But it improves, it improves.”

He looked over at Sabina and smiled suggestively.

“I’m still quite spry. Not all action requires two good feet.”

Sabina blushed, despite her resolve not to. Bea was aghast.

“Master Günter, you must stop such nonsense at once. Why, if Master Wolf were here, he’d have to challenge you as a point of honor.”

“If my brother were here, I doubt I would be getting anywhere near his new bride without constant supervision.” His gaze swept over Sabina once more. “He left you all alone, did he?”

She smiled. “Except for all these people, yes, quite alone.”

“Well, I suppose you are safe enough from me,” he said, a half-smile again peeking out from behind his beard. “But Wolf would be wise to make his way home. Soon.”

He gave Bea his arm. “In the meantime, I believe I will have my bath now. Come, Bea, and tell me all the gossip since I’ve been gone. No one knows more of it than you.”

“Oh, Master Günter, it is good to have you home,” Bea said, her sigh trailing him down the hall.

Later that evening, while Nurse Barbara prepared Gisel for bed, Wolf and Peter still had not returned home. Sabina grew concerned, and told herself it was only because Gisel had been asking after her father.

He had expected to be gone for some time. There was no cause for alarm. She hoped. Still, she made her way to the attic and gazed out of one of the gable windows at the fires dotting the landscape beyond. Not campfires, she knew, but fires set destructively by peasants bent on revenge.

“Daydreaming,
sister?”

The deep voice startled her and she quickly turned. Günter lounged in the doorway, arms crossed, cane propped up against his hip. He had bathed and shaved, and now looked even more handsome than before. He was nearly as attractive as Wolf.

What would the women of Wittenberg do now?

“Nay,” she answered with a sigh, “just wondering if we might receive word on your brothers’ whereabouts.”

He shrugged. “I have no doubt Franz will immediately inform you when they return.”

Sabina frowned at his sarcastic tone. “Do you not care that your brothers are out there facing danger?”

He shrugged. “I care. What difference that will make to their fate, I have no idea.”

Astounded by his response, Sabina simply stared when he came toward her using his cane to steady himself.

“Do not worry about Wolf and Peter.” He came to stand beside her. “They are strong, quick, and smart, and have never let anyone get the better of them yet. I’m certain they will soon return healthy and well.” His shrewd eyes surveyed her, missing nothing. “Worrying about it will change nothing. What will be will be.”

“That must be a family motto,” she muttered, and took up her vigil at the window once more. Their reflections gazed back at them from the glass. He remained silent for a long time, lost in thought.

“I used to come up here as a boy, to get away,” he murmured. “I had forgotten how one can see nearly the entire city from here.”

She glanced over at him. “From whom did you want to get away?”

He was silent for so long, she thought he would not answer.

“Everyone,” he eventually said. “No one. Myself. Who knows?” He lifted a shoulder, effectively dismissing the subject.

He stared at her, his gaze thoughtful. She felt slightly uncomfortable under it, but not threatened.

“What?” she asked after bearing his perusal for a while.

His smile hinted of sadness. “It is nothing.” He raised his hand, touched her hair lightly. “You remind me of someone. Your hair is a little like hers, only …” He gazed past her as though he saw the other woman in his mind. After a moment, he dropped his hand. “Only different. Never mind.” He glanced at her sideways. “Does Wolf realize what a fine catch you are?”

“You will have to ask him yourself,” she said, her curiosity peaked about the woman who could make him compare every female he met to her and find them wanting.

“I will. In the meantime,
sister
dearest, Bea instructs me you are late for supper, a habit she hints she is becoming somewhat annoyed with. We are all punctual here in the Behaim household, you know. It’s the unwritten rule.”

Did she only imagine the note of bitterness in his jest? His face betrayed nothing.

“Or perhaps it
is
written somewhere,” he continued with a sly glance at her. “Right next to our family motto, no doubt.”

He held out a hand, and she allowed him to lead her toward the stairs. She noticed his knapsack at the bottom, near the door. She looked at him, a question in her eyes.

“I leave at first light. Franz has informed me Papa has been properly buried, and all the necessary arrangements have been made for our inheritance. Since my siblings are not about, there seems to be no reason to stay.”