The Legacy (14 page)

Sabina was unsure as to why she was suddenly the object of a direct attack, but she knew she had no intention of dining with these women and subjecting herself to an entire morning of such comments.

“As you say,” she murmured, and turned to Wolf. “I have a headache. I believe I would prefer to eat in my chamber. Would you mind?”

“I would,” he said. But he eyed her for a moment and apparently thought better of forcing the issue. “However, I insist you rest. I’ll send Bea up with a trencher.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “The morning has been adventuresome enough, I believe.”

“Adventure? At such an early hour? My how—” Fya seemed to search for the perfect word, her finger resting against her delicate cheek—”scandalous. I love scandals. You must tell us all about yours.” She giggled again, pretending she was not aware of the metaphorical dagger she had just slipped between Sabina’s shoulder blades.

Sabina had expected to be shunned by Wittenberg’s higher society. She had not expected, however, to be faced with open warfare by the merchant class at so early an opportunity. A pulse in Wolf’s cheek began to jump. Peter frowned at Fya, while her mother tried to gesture at her in warning with a rapidly blinking eyelid.

“Fya, that is hardly—” Peter began, but Sabina stopped his defense with a gentle hand on his forearm. He would only make matters worse.

“Yes, at times one wishes one had such a life as the common classes,” Sabina sighed dramatically. “Nothing interesting ever seems to happen to you, does it?” She waved her hand about as though she painted a picture. “Going about your trades, spending endless hours at the food market … beating your clothes against a rock … It must be very … peaceful. Staid. Dull even.” She smiled blissfully and fluttered her eyelashes at the women while they stared at her with their mouths agape. “I imagine you must wish for an occasional adventure under such circumstances, mustn’t you, my dear?”

Wolf made a strangled noise and dropped his chin to his chest, examining the clasp on his doublet as though it contained the secret to the Philosopher’s Stone. Peter bit his lower lip, smothered a grin, and stared up at the ceiling.

Sabina turned to Wolf, and with a simpering smile asked, “May I be excused? Surely you will not want your guests to think we are being rude by delaying them from the meal they have gone to such a great effort—at such an
early
hour—to attend.”

Wolf’s lips quivered, but he responded in a serious tone. “Yes, rudeness at such an
early
hour sours the stomach. You have my leave to go. I find I’ve lost what little appetite I had. I’ll eat later.” He turned to the trio while Sabina made her way up the stairs.

“If you’ll excuse me?” he asked, and then strode after her.

“Well!”
Frau
Schumacher exclaimed, while Fya made protesting noises behind them. Peter quickly shooed the women toward the dining room before further feminine claws could be unsheathed.

“Sabina,” Wolf called.

She hesitated, turning to look at him. He stood at the bottom of the stairs watching her with such naked longing, it made her pulse jump.

“Will you please join me at mid-morning? We can tour the grounds, show you the house. It would … please me to do so.” The expression on his face seemed momentarily unsure, as if he was surprised he had said such a thing.

She should refuse. The more time she spent in his company, the more inclined she was to want to spend more. She had nearly told him everything this morning, and she had only known him for one day, though it seemed like longer. She really knew nothing about him, other than he was handsome, he’d known despair and love, he liked to laugh but rarely did, and he wanted her.

“Yes. It would … please me to accompany you,” she found herself saying, and could have kicked herself.

Wolf’s tense demeanor relaxed, and she was glad she had agreed.

“Until later, then,” he said with a broad smile, and walked away.

She watched him go and wondered how she would ever extricate herself from this impossible situation if he kept smiling at her that way.

Sabina carefully checked her reflection in the mirror. She had been at Sanctuary for three days, most of the time sleeping or resting in her room. Now she prepared to attend her first supper at the family table. Gisel would be allowed to join them for a few minutes before her bedtime.

Dressed in the only gown she had, the gray servant’s dress, Sabina hoped Gisel would not mistake her for the new serving girl. She sighed. She never realized she was so vain. Still, she wanted to make a good first impression, so she took extra care with her appearance.

The seamstress had visited just that afternoon, so her clothing situation would soon remedy itself. However, she was somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of taking money from Wolf for something as frivolous as new clothes, though she was grateful for his consideration.

She unbraided her hair and brushed it vigorously. It hung in dark waves down her back. Knowing it was one of her best features, she impulsively decided to leave it down in violation of tradition, not certain whom she was trying to impress—the little girl or her father.

When no one came to retrieve her at the appointed time, she made her own way to the dining room. She could hear the murmur of deep male voices as she approached. She knew the female Schumachers were not in attendance this evening, and was grateful for that, at least. While she listened to Wolf’s rumbling tones, she suddenly felt an attack of nerves and paused just beyond the archway. She pressed a hand to her stomach and took another deep breath, bracing herself for what came next.

She walked slowly into the room, noticing Wolf’s towering form striding back and forth in front of the fireplace. She also noticed Peter, seated on a bench by the window, casually sipping his ale. However, she did not see the child anywhere. Wolf stopped pacing, for indeed that was what he was doing, and looked up as she entered.

Wolf caught sight of Sabina in the doorway. It struck him that she grew lovelier every time he saw her. He barely remembered how he had once preferred buxom blondes with plump curves. How could any woman improve upon the spare beauty Sabina possessed?

He frowned at himself. He would be spouting damned poetry at her next if he kept this nonsense up.

When she stopped mid-step with a hesitant expression, he realized she must have thought his scowl was directed at her. He opened his mouth to welcome her, but Peter beat him to it.

“Baronesse, how agreeable you look.” Peter stood, giving Wolf a reproachful glance, and bowed over her hand. “Your hair is so striking, and is just the right counterpoint for that shade of gray. It is like putting a lovely painting in a simple frame. It makes the painting shine all the more.”

With those few words, Peter put her at ease, something which seemed beyond Wolf’s ability. Sabina smiled at Peter in obvious gratitude and murmured “thank you” while Wolf shot Peter a malevolent look. Peter raised an unconcerned brow in his direction, then escorted Wolf’s new bride to the dining table.

Wolf realized he still had not greeted her, and once again opened his mouth to speak. Just as he did, a small blond projectile shot into the room.

“Papa!” squealed his little girl, launching herself at him. “Papa!”

Wolf barely caught Gisel in time. He swung her in a high arc while she shrieked with laughter, then brought her to a whirling stop.

“Nurse Bar-ba say I sit with the big people today!” Gisel burbled.

At this point, the very same Nurse Barbara rushed into the room. The big-boned redhead’s young face flooded with relief when she saw Gisel in her father’s arms.

“Forgive me, Master Behaim, she got away from me for a moment. She’s been terribly anxious to join you. I tried to explain, but…” She shrugged her plump shoulders helplessly.

“No matter, Nurse. Come back for her in a few minutes, would you?”

The woman nodded and withdrew, but not before glancing curiously over at Sabina. Wolf turned his attention back to his daughter.

“Hello, you little minx. Are you making life hard for Nurse Barbara again?” Wolf covered her face with kisses, holding her up high. She giggled and squirmed away, rubbing his cheek with her small hand.

“Papa scratchy again,” she said with great seriousness. Wolf tucked her into his arms and tried to look apologetic.

“Yes, dumpling, I forgot to shave this morning. If you want to kiss me, you’ll just have to put up with it.”

“No. If Papa want to kiss me, Papa shave!” she boldly declared.

Peter choked back a laugh, and murmured to no one in particular, “My, they do start young.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Wolf assured his daughter. He looked at Sabina and winked. “I’ll just have to remember that next time I go around trying to kiss pretty girls.”

He tried not to laugh outright at the wide-eyed expression on Sabina’s face.

Gisel now stared at Sabina with open curiosity.

“Dumpling, today is a very special day,” Wolf said. “That is why I asked Nurse to let you come visit with us for a bit. I wanted you to meet Baronesse Sabina. You can call her ‘my lady.’ Can you make her feel welcome?”

“Hello.” She stuck a finger in her mouth. “I seen you. In the big bed. Nurse said Lady too tired to play.”

“Oh. Yes,” Sabina responded, “I am sorry about that. But I am happy to meet you now. I have been waiting such a long time.”

Gisel pulled her finger out. “Truly?”

Sabina nodded. “Truly. Your papa has told me so much about you. Did you honestly eat a big bug in the garden last week?”

From the corner of his eye, Wolf saw Peter suppress a brief shudder. Gisel nodded vigorously in response.

“What was it like? I have never eaten a bug before. Ever,” Sabina said seriously.

Gisel screwed up her face in thought. “Crunchy,” she decided.

“Ah, I see. Well, I do not think I like crunchy things, so mayhap I should not eat any. What do you think?”

Gisel agreed with a nod. “Me, too.”

They beamed at each other, instant comrades.

Trying to hide the warm tendril of pleasure spiraling through him at their rapport, Wolf set his daughter down. “Now you have met her, you had best hurry along to bed.”

“Nay! I stay with Lady!” Gisel said stubbornly.

“You can see her again tomorrow. Right now it is past your bedtime,” he said firmly.

“I stay now!” Gisel protested, her expression mulish, but Sabina interjected smoothly.

“Mayhap, after I break my fast tomorrow, Gisel can show me where her favorite places to play are. I think I will get lost around here without a guide. Would it be permitted?” she asked Wolf.

“Well, I suppose if you really want to …” he said doubtfully.

“‘Guide?’“ Gisel repeated the unfamiliar word.

Sabina knelt down to look at the girl on her level. “Yes, it means a helper who shows other people where to go. Do you think you could do that for me?”

Gisel nodded, obviously pleased to be asked to help.

“But you will need plenty of rest first,” Sabina said. “Guides need to stay healthy so they can show other people around. It is part of their duties. Agreed?”

Gisel seemed to consider for a moment.

“Yes, Lady.” She ran to the door, where Nurse Barbara was waiting to take her back out. Then she ran back and kissed Sabina on the nose.

“‘Bye-bye, Lady!” she called, and with that, she was gone.

Peter stared. Wolf turned to Sabina in wonder.

“How in blazes did you do that?”

She shrugged. “She is a delightful child.”

Wolf cocked an eyebrow up. “She’s as stubborn as a mule. At least she usually is.”

“Well, even a mule will go forward if you hold a carrot in front of its nose,” she offered benignly.

“True. I suppose I will have to keep that trick in mind.”

He was amused. Then the amusement faded, replaced with something warmer. He held her gaze for what seemed like a long time. From his side vision, he saw his brother politely trying to ignore the tension fairly crackling in the room.

“Well,” Wolf said, looking away from Sabina with great difficulty. “Perhaps we should sit down—the meal will be served shortly. Would you like wine or ale?”

Wolf casually crowded his brother over and pulled a stool out for Sabina next to his own chair at the head of the table. Sabina sat down, apparently not noticing the two men vying for the honor of seating her. Having lost out, Peter grumbled and went to sit across from her on the opposite side of the table.

“Wine would be fine, thank you.” She sat gracefully, hands folded in her lap—every inch the noble, and yet patently unaware of her demeanor.

Wolf sat down. Peter’s hand suddenly shot past him and picked up the pewter pitcher on the table. He poured the wine into Sabina’s cup.

“With my compliments, Baronesse,” Peter said, offering it to her and ignoring Wolf’s fulminating glare. Sabina smiled and took the cup.

“Please, call me Sabina,” she invited.

“And you must call me Peter. All my friends do.” Peter smiled engagingly, likely enjoying Wolf’s discomfort.

“Then I am pleased to be counted among them … Peter.”