The Legacy (33 page)

“I’ll take care of it. Don’t trouble yourself about it any more.”

“Wolf,” she protested, “the man is
my
adoptive father. What he has done, he has done to me and mine. It is my responsibility to see justice done as much as it is yours, mayhap more so. I will not be left out of it.”

Wolf turned an imperious gaze her way. “I am your husband. You’re
my
responsibility. I will take care of anything that affects or injures you. No one does what this man has done to someone I—who belongs to me and gets away with it. The matter is settled.”

Her mouth tightened, and she clenched her hands. “Won’t you tell me what hold the baron has over you?”

A ripple of unease filtered through him. “What?”

“Even Agnes realizes there is something strange between you, something not accounted for by what you told me of the debts inherited from your father. What is it, Wolf? Or must I ask the baron for the truth?” Her eyes glittered with stubborn purpose.

Wolf, instantly alarmed, grabbed her arms, nearly lifting her off the floor in his urgency.

She flinched.

“You will not go anywhere near him, do you understand me?” He shook her. “He’s dangerous—far more dangerous even than I supposed. Soon he’ll be like a cornered animal. I won’t have you getting in the middle of this.”

“You are hurting me, Wolf,” she said quietly.

He released her, rubbing his hands regretfully over the places he had so thoughtlessly gripped. “I’m sorry, but … I can’t stand the thought of you anywhere near him. You of all people should know this man should be approached with caution.”

She regarded him steadily. “Are you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“What it is he holds over you?”

Wolf turned from her, refusing to meet her eyes. “It’s …” He debated telling her, and decided he could not bear her censure. He would not tell her about the circumstances of Papa’s death, nor his shameful part in it. Not now, when everything was going so well between them.

“It’s a private matter. It doesn’t concern you.” And, if he eliminated the ability of the only other person who knew the secret to tell, the matter could be buried forever. With the information to be gained from the chest, he could do just that.

Two could play the extortion game.

“I might have known you were going to be stubborn about this,” Sabina said. “However, I promised Agnes I would inform you, and I have kept my promise.” She rose, her attitude noticeably cooler from when she had kissed him just minutes before. “Good day. I will see you at home.”

For some reason, her displeasure bothered him. A woman shouldn’t be able to make a man feel so bereft just because he tried to do what God had intended him to do—to protect his family and what belonged to him. Still, he didn’t want her leaving here upset. He stopped her before she could go.

“Sabina, wait. I don’t wish to fight with you.”

She gazed up at him dispassionately. “Nor I you. But if you are so insistent on placing me into the neat little orderly rows of your life like so much—” she waved her hands in the direction of the presses “—lead type, then we are bound to have an occasional disagreement.”

Taken aback by the bitterness in her voice, he asked, “What are you talking about? This isn’t just about the baron, is it?”

“Nay,” she huffed, “it is not, and if you don’t understand that by now, then I am certainly not going to explain it to you.”

He gnashed his teeth. “Must
all
women use that phrase? Christ’s bones! Can’t you just tell a man what you’re thinking and be done with it?”

Her voice dropped to a hiss. “How
dare
you swear at me. Pray do not take the Lord’s name in vain again.”

He felt the fight coming, but he couldn’t prevent it. He wasn’t even certain why it was happening. Mayhap something about her stubbornness clashed headlong with his, and it was inevitable. Still, she had to learn her place. There could be only one head of this family, and she wasn’t it.

He glared at her. “And just who do you think you are giving orders to,
my lady?”

She put her fists on her hips. “A pig-headed jackanapes who cannot see what is right in front of him, that is who!” Her voice shook, and suddenly she burst into tears.

He stared at her, flummoxed, and patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Sabina, what’s wrong? We were simply having a discussion, there’s no reason to cry—”

“No reason? Oh, yes, you would say that. Oh, never mind.” She scrubbed at her face with her hands and pushed past him. He took hold of her arm.

“Let me go!” she snapped and swung away. “I do
not
want you to touch me.”

That hurt. He released her. “I don’t understand. I’ve been kind to you, haven’t I? I’ve never deliberately harmed you. I believed, or mayhap I was mistaken, you enjoyed my touch. Why would you say such a thing now? What is the matter?”

She angrily paced across the space in front of him, arms crossed, her words coming out in a jangled tirade.

“You never have understood, have you? So, you want to know what I am thinking? Well, I will tell you. Yes. I will do just that.” She swung around to face him. “I love you! How is that for an unholy jest? And every time you touch me, you make me love you just a little bit more.”

His mouth dropped open and astonishment flooded through him.

She fumed at him. “I want to be a part of you, of everything you do. Still, there are places in your heart I am not allowed to trespass. You are so wrapped up in
your
life,
your
world,
your
feelings, you cannot see what you do to me every time you shut me out. I deserve better. I cannot bear it anymore. I would rather be nothing to you then go on with this … halfway kind of life.”

Alarmed, he shouted, “What the devil do you mean by that?” Then, “Wait. First things first—you love me?” he asked in a hushed voice. It was the only thing he had truly understood of what she just said.

She swatted him. “Of course, you ninny! Do you think I could be with you the way I am night after night if I did not? Do you think I have ever behaved this way with anyone else?”

Struck with guilt, he looked away. She
had
had a lover before. However, the boy had not satisfied her. At least that’s how it had seemed, although she had never said as much …

Her expression darkened, and she must have divined his thoughts, for she stood toe-to-toe with him, looked up at him with narrowed eyes, and spoke tightly, her voice rising with every angry syllable.

“Now you listen to me, Wolfgang Philip Matthew Behaim. I was with George, the man I
thought
was my husband, only a few times. No more. And not once did he ever make me feel what you have made me feel. Not once! And for you to think I am so common I would allow anyone but you to touch me as you have, or I would touch you the way I have, makes me want to … to bash you over the head with one of your own ink balls! How
dare
you. I am no wanton, sir. I am your wife!”

A burst of clapping from below them suddenly drowned out his response. Wolf and Sabina both realized at the same moment they had forgotten they were not alone. Catcalls and whistles rose up from below, and Wolf, eyes blazing, rushed to the top of the stairs and glared down.

“If any of you wishes to be employed here tomorrow, I suggest you get back to
work!”

The clapping stopped, and the silence filled with the sounds of the presses clanking and men furiously working.

He looked back at Sabina, who now pressed two fingers to her quivering lips, obviously trying not to smile. The mercurial change in her mood proved an added goad to him, and he turned on her.

“You think it’s amusing now, but you still have to walk through that room to get out of here.” He sidled up to her, lowered his voice. “Mayhap I’ll show them all who is master here by taking you flat on your back on top of that—” he pointed to the wide desk occupying a full third of the space where they stood “—and making you scream my name until you are hoarse.”

His voice dropped lower still, and he looked at her mouth, remembering. “The way I did last night.”

Sabina’s gaze slid to the desk. She leaned a hip against it, spread one hand across its polished top, and patted it experimentally. Her gaze slid back and she allowed it to wander over him. By the time her eyes returned to his, he was hard and aching.

“Sabina …” he growled a warning to her.

“Mayhap you should,” she interrupted. “That would show them.”

She dared him now. He couldn’t believe it. Not only had she met his challenge, but she had done it so effectively he would probably be hurting the rest of the day just imagining the possibilities. This was getting out of hand. Her swift changes in mood made him dizzy. He had to stop her before this went any further.

“Enough,” he rumbled.

“Nay, truly, Wolf,” she purred, slipping up on the edge of the desk and allowing her feet to swing back and forth, “I think you
should
teach me a lesson.” She clasped his hands, drawing him between her thighs, but he hastily stepped back. “Mayhap two lessons,” she continued. “How else will your men know you are master of your wife and all you survey?”

She leaned forward, just enough so he could see the shadowed valley between her breasts below the neckline of her bodice, and he felt master of nothing. Her eyelids fluttered down to half-mast, and she canted her head.

“I will even
let
you order me about… this time,” she whispered, and licked her full pink lips. She grasped his hand and settled it on her thigh.

Wolf closed his eyes, trying to shut out the sight of her, trying to calm the riotous feelings that demanded he take her
now.
Instead, he took a deep, steadying breath, not believing he was being tempted by his own wife to engage in salacious activities within earshot of a half dozen men. And he was seriously considering it.

“Sabina, this is getting us nowhere,” he managed. “We obviously have a lot to talk about. We will talk tonight, at home. In private.” Then he grinned, a little of his rampant desire breaking through. “If you still want me to master you then, I’ll be more than happy to oblige.”

She pouted, an expression he had never before seen on her face. She had grown too wise for her own good. At this rate, she would be leading him around by the bollocks in no time, and he would be happily following with his tongue hanging out.

She swung her legs again, inching up her skirts to reveal a well-formed ankle, a slender calf. His eyes latched onto the sight.

“Are you certain about that?” She winked.

“Absolutely not,” he said, dragging his gaze away. “But nevertheless, you need to go home.” Trying desperately to loosen the tension so he could return to the pressing room without having to hide behind his doublet, he changed the subject.

“I must send you home so I can concentrate on my work. I’ll arrange to have someone escort you. I don’t want you walking back alone now that Müntzer’s in Thuringia.” He spoke of the region along the southern border of Electoral Saxony that had been the site of the recent unrest.

“Müntzer is in Thuringia?” she asked, surprised evident in her voice.

“Yes. I thought you might have heard by now. Word is out Müntzer has organized a military revolt. It appears he’s using the city of Frankenhausen as a base of operations. So far, his campaign has been limited to that region, but if he finds success there, his peasant army might make its way here. He still considers Dr. Luther his enemy, and would gladly see the Elector brought to his knees for supporting Luther over him.”

He watched her eyes change from temptress to concerned wife and tried not to hear her words in his head.

I love you,
she had said. Words he might never be able to say in return. To do so would be to lose his last connection to Beth, the mother of his child, the love of his youth; but worse, to risk the devastation of loss again. It was something he couldn’t yet bring himself to do.

Sabina hopped off the desk and came to him anxiously. “Wolf, what does this mean? Will you and the other men be called up again?”

“It’s unlikely—the word is Landgrave Hesse of Thuringia and the Princes’ troops are successfully beating the peasant army back at this point. With our strong defense of the region last time against any uprising, few of the local peasants are willing to risk their necks again for Müntzer. But we’ll have to wait and see about that.”

He put a hand at the small of her back to turn her toward the stairs. “The immediate impact for us is I’ve been asked by the Elector to run a special pamphlet denouncing Müntzer and his thugs, and exhorting the peasants and their supporters here to maintain calm. We’re expecting a very busy few days. So you see, while I’d like to stand here and exchange pleasantries with you all day,” he said wryly, “I really do need to get back to work.”

“Of course.” She clasped her hands. “I will leave immediately.”

As Wolf went to the stairs and motioned for one of the pressman to attend her, Sabina barely hid her relief from him. Her little performance had effectively distracted him from her foolish declaration of love. It had not escaped her notice he hadn’t returned the sentiment in kind. What had she been thinking to reveal such a thing to him? Whatever was wrong with her?

“Wait,” he said before she could leave. He moved closer, and spoke so only she could hear. The waiting pressman averted his eyes politely, pretending not to be aware of their conference.

“I should say this to you first. I apologize if I was too heavy-handed in wanting to deal with von Ziegler. We’ll discuss it tonight as well, and any further steps that must be taken.”

“Wolf, it is not necessary—” she began hastily. He stopped her with a light kiss, then nudged a tendril of dark hair back under her scarf with one finger. He allowed his finger to trail down her cheek before it rested on her mouth. “As you pointed out so, ah, expressively a moment ago, you are my wife. What affects one, affects both. We’ll find a way to deal with it—together.”