He looked around at the men. “It isn’t serious.” He reached for another cloth and pressed it to her chest. “She will survive.”
She looked at each of the seven faces huddled around her, whose expressions were rapidly changing from abject grief, to joy and relief.
“She stabbed my cross.” Sophie’s voice revealed the wonder she was feeling, and she laughed.
Vincz started laughing too. Bartel said, “The cross must have stopped the blade from penetrating her breastbone. The duchess thought she had killed you, but the cross took the brunt of her blow.”
Dolf sank to the floor beside her, smiling and taking over holding the cloths to Sophie’s head for Vincz, who started wiping his tears on his sleeve.
A spontaneous whoop went up from Siggy, Dominyk, and Gotfrid.
Heinric, however, burst in loud sobs and cried, “Sophie hurt! Sophie hurt!” His sobs were so loud they vibrated the floor and reminded Sophie of the pain in her head and of how her head had struck the edge of the table in her struggle with the duchess.
Siggy went to try to comfort Heinric and distract him while the other men asked her how she was feeling and told her not to get up just yet.
She noticed Dolf kneeling beside her. “Oh! What happened to your face?” Red scratches, three on both sides of his face, were oozing blood. “She did this to you, didn’t she?” Pity rose up inside her for her friend. “Does it hurt very much?”
Vincz signed her words to him, and Dolf shook his head, making a quick gesture with his hand.
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Vincz interpreted for Dolf.
“Nonsense. We must wash those scratches with clean water.” Sophie clicked her tongue against her teeth.
“I’ll take care of it,” Bartel said, letting Gotfrid hold the cloth to her chest.
Sudden fear gripped her. “Where is she now?” Sophie whispered. She made the sign for where to Dolf, one of the signs the men had taught her.
Dolf shook his head. He closed his own eyes, pushing his eyelids down with his fingers.
“She’s dead,” Dominyk explained.
“You’re safe from her now,” Gotfrid said, scowling. “She won’t harm you again.”
“What happened?”
“She drowned,” Dominyk said. “Dolf tried to pull her out of the river several times, and she scratched him. By the time we fished her out, she had drowned.”
“Oh.” Sophie felt numb as Bartel washed the blood off her head and bandaged it. Then she insisted he wash Dolf’s scratches. Dolf let Bartel wash his scratches, but when he wanted to apply some of his green paste to the scratches, Dolf pulled away and grunted and gestured no.
“Dolf, you must,” Sophie said. “I insist you let him do it.”
The other men signed to Dolf what Sophie said and he instantly sat back down and didn’t move while Bartel applied his green salve to Dolf’s face.
After the men helped her up and into a chair, Dolf made some signs to her.
“Dolf wants to know what happened to you, what the duchess did to you,” Vincz said.
Sophie’s voice shook as she told of the duchess appearing as an old, crippled woman, how she’d offered Sophie a poisoned apple and then come after her with the knife, and how Sophie had tried to fight her off. She shuddered, remembering the hatred in the duchess’s eyes.
After she finished the tale, Dominyk handed her necklace back to her, its face now marred by a hole shaped like a knife blade. Several of the men crossed themselves when they got a better look at the necklace, their faces pale. Heinric began crying again, tears streaming down his face until Bartel went to get him a cloth to wipe his face and blow his nose.
A strange feeling came over Sophie as she thought about the duchess drowning, refusing help, dying at the bottom of the river. The thought of her having to face God made her feel sick. But now Sophie was truly safe. Wasn’t she? Somehow it still didn’t feel real.
Gabe spent the rest of the evening waiting for Duke Baldewin to send for him. He prayed for a while in his room, then went out to the stable to groom his horse, making sure Gingerbread hadn’t suffered any bad effects from their hard ride to the monastery.
His feeling of uneasiness about being away from Sophie had increased. If the duke wasn’t going to talk to him today, perhaps Gabe should go back to the Cottage of the Seven and bring Sophie here to see her father. But that might not be a good idea. With Sophie riding along, he didn’t think they could make the trip as quickly, which would put him alone with her for too long … No, if he went to fetch Sophie, he’d have to bring Bartel and at least one of the other men with them.
The same little boy who’d greeted him two hours ago came running into the stable. “Sir, Brother Baldewin wishes to speak with you now.”
Gabe left his horse, who looked well taken care of, and hurried to the monastery’s main building.
The boy led him to Baldewin’s own small cell, the gray walls bare, with no furnishings except a narrow bed, a stool, and a bench. His face and hair looked newly scrubbed and clean and his expression was blank as he nodded at the bench in front of him.
Gabe sat. He waited for the duke to break the silence and start the conversation, but after several minutes, Gabe decided to broach the subject that had been on his mind since he’d arrived.
“Brother Baldewin, I know the news I gave you yesterday was unexpected, but I urge you to let me escort you to your daughter right away. We could leave now and be there in two days.” Please, God, let him say yes.
The duke’s hands were hidden inside the sleeves of his coarse woolen robe. He lifted his head, and his bloodshot eyes met Gabe’s. “Tell me everything. I’m ready to hear it now. How did you come to find her?”
Gabe took a deep breath. Not what he wanted to hear, but he had no choice but to be patient with Sophie’s father.
He told him of Pinnosa’s tale and her death, how he’d felt compelled to go find and rescue Sophie, and the fact that his brother Valten, Sophie’s betrothed, had a broken leg and couldn’t travel. He told of how he and Sophie escaped the duchess and how he had been shot by their pursuer, one of the duchess’s guards.
“So my daughter is with Bartel — with the Seven?”
Gabe nodded.
Baldewin seemed to hug his arms closer to his chest and stared down at the floor.
Just as Gabe was about to again suggest they leave to go to her, Baldewin spoke.
“So you’ve spent time alone with my daughter. What are your intentions? Do you love her?”
“Yes, Your Grace — Brother Baldewin. I have come to love her deeply, and I believe Valten will give his assent to allow me to marry her, if you will also give your permission.”
The duke gave Gabe a sharp look, then stared at the floor again. “What does Sophie want? Does she love you?”
“Yes.” He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “She wants to marry me.”
“Even though she’s betrothed to your brother, the future Duke of Hagenheim?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Gabe stared back defiantly while quaking inside.
“Do you think it is God’s will that she marry you and not Valten? Do you think your brother is so unworthy?”
Gabe’s breath shallowed as he fought to think of an appropriate response to questions he’d not yet been able to answer. What was the truth? He was in a monastery with a man of God and prayer. He felt the pressure to be as truthful as possible.
“Valten is not unworthy.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Valten is … a good man. But perhaps there was a purpose in Valten breaking his leg when he did, and Pinnosa arriving while my brother was unable to travel. God knew what he was doing, surely. He put the urgency in my spirit to send me to Sophie. Perhaps it was His will for us to be together.” And the strange thing is, I believe that. Please let Baldewin believe as well.
But Baldewin didn’t seem moved by Gabe’s impassioned speech. He frowned. “Or perhaps you only want it to be so.”
&
nbsp; Gabe felt anger rise inside him, but he pushed it down. He had to keep a steady head. He needed Sophie’s father as an ally, not an enemy.
“I know it sounds bad. It sounds as if I am taking advantage of an opportunity to get myself a duke’s daughter to wed, as if I’m stealing her away from her rightful betrothed.” Gabe swallowed past the scratchiness in his throat, wishing he hadn’t said the words. They sounded much too damning. He wasn’t sure he even liked himself anymore. “But I set out with a noble cause, with noble intentions. I intended to bring her back safely to Valten. I never wished to betray my brother or take away what is rightfully Sophie’s. But I fell in love with her in spite of myself. I love her and she loves me, and now I can’t imagine living without her.”
Baldewin softened his features with a partial smile. “But perhaps you are right. God can do anything. Perhaps he wanted you to find my daughter and save her. But you know and admit that I could see it otherwise. A less sincere man than yourself, for example, could see this as an opportunity to raise his own position in the world. The second son of a duke has fewer prospects for wealth and authority. But … if he should convince the daughter of a duke to fall in love with him … to break her betrothal …”
Gabe’s stomach sank, but he wasn’t about to give up.
“What you say, sir, is true. But I am not that avaricious person. I had no thoughts of betrayal or advancement when I set out.” Would Baldewin believe him? “I fought each feeling I encountered. I thought of her only as my brother’s betrothed —”
“So you went to her rescue because your brother asked you to?”
It was very hot in the tiny cell, and stuffy. “I went to her rescue because I — I wanted to help her, a lady in need. Her situation sounded dire … and I wanted to prove I could save her myself.”
“So you didn’t go because God urged you to.”
Gabe took a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m being completely honest with you.” Couldn’t the man appreciate that? “If I hadn’t come when I did, Sophie might be dead now.” He flung the words at the duke, but regretted them when Brother Baldewin pressed his lips together. A flicker of pain crossed his features just before he closed his eyes.
“Forgive me,” Gabe said. “The truth is, I love your daughter with my very soul, and I beg you to allow me to marry her. I promise to provide for her, to give her everything she needs, everything she wants. I’ll treat her like a princess, for to me she is a princess.”
“And if your brother were not betrothed to her, are you free from any obligations? Have your parents not betrothed you to a local nobleman’s daughter?”
Gabe tried not to choke. “I agreed to marry a count’s daughter a year ago.”
Baldewin was quiet. Gabe bowed his head and waited. He must seem like a man who didn’t keep his promises and wouldn’t be faithful. A bead of sweat ran down Gabe’s back as Baldewin remained silent. The duke would never help him now.
“I know how it must appear to you, but I love Sophie,” Gabe said. “And she loves me and we want to be married. Please help us.”
Baldewin slid to his knees on the stone floor and turned to face a small crucifix on the wall beside him. “Come. Come and pray with me. We shall ask God his will. You must pray sincerely, from your heart, to know God’s will for you … whether or not you and Sophie should marry.”
Gabe got on his knees beside the duke and clasped his hands in front of him, staring at the small statue of Jesus dying on the cross. He closed his eyes against the picture of his Savior’s suffering, but the image was imprinted inside his eyelids, it seemed.
He willed his mind to concentrate, to focus on asking God what he wanted for him, but he found himself begging God to let him marry Sophie, to influence the duke to agree.
He shook himself mentally. God, if it is best for Sophie to marry Valten, please tell me so now.
He waited, emptying his mind of all thought.
Gabe bent lower, still listening. God, you sent me to Sophie. I know you did. He clasped his hands tighter. If it be your will that we marry, I promise I will protect and love her and be the best husband I can be. I’ll love her till I die. Please speak to Baldewin and myself and make your desires known, make it known that you want Sophie to marry me and not Valten.
Gabe continued to kneel silently. God, I need your approval, as well as Baldewin’s, Valten’s, and … Brittola’s. How could he marry Sophie without hurting Brittola? No doubt it was inevitable, but it would be for the best for everyone … somehow.
Gabe’s knees were aching and his thighs were starting to cramp. Finally, Baldewin sat back on his heels and sighed audibly. His eyes were still closed, and his lips continued to move silently, but then he crossed himself and fixed Gabe with a blue-eyed stare.
“If Sophie loves you and wants to marry you, then you have my blessing. But you still have to convince your father and Valten to release Sophie from the betrothal, and your betrothed’s father to release you as well.”
Gabe let out the breath he’d been holding and had an almost irresistible urge to clap the man on the back. But he thought better of it and managed to contain his joy. “Thank you, sir. You shall not regret it, I promise you. I’ll make Sophie the happiest woman on earth.”
“Yes. You will. Or you’ll have to answer to me.” Baldewin glared, then allowed himself a slight smile. “Now help me up. It’s time I ate.”
Chapter
25
As Sophie and the seven men sat down to breakfast, she thought about the way Gabe used to finagle in order to be able to sit beside her. She missed his smile and the look in his eyes whenever she glanced his way. Hurry back to me, Gabe.
What if he never comes back?
The worrisome thought haunted her. Being able to marry him still seemed too good to be true.
But she mustn’t think this way. Gabe had asked her for one thing, and that was her trust. I need you to trust me, he’d said. And she’d promised to do that. Didn’t that trust include believing that he would come back for her?
Once she finished eating her breakfast of eggs and fruit pasty, the Seven helped her clear away their dishes, carrying it all to the sink before the men headed outside. Today they would bury the duchess.
A numbness seeped into Sophie’s bones as she stared at her stepmother, laid out on the dirt beside the root cellar, where they had kept her overnight.
Perhaps Sophie should have been relieved that her stepmother would never hurt her again. But mostly she just felt … numb. Speechless. Cold and dull. She touched the bandage on her chest.
The duchess had directed so much evil at Sophie, and now she was dead.
Sophie shivered and wrapped her hands around her arms, wishing Gabe would come back. She longed for his warmth, for his confident brown eyes that always made her feel safe and loved and wanted.
But Sophie now realized God was capable of keeping her safe. He’d protected her with her own wooden cross. And God loved her, she knew, from what the Bible and the priest and Gabe said. And because she knew God wanted to heal Gabe of his past hurts, she knew he wanted to heal her too. She just had to let him.
She turned and went back into the kitchen to start the midday meal.
She refused to look out the window while she threw herself into her task, baking extra bread and pies and starting a stew for the evening meal. When she finished, she went outside to call the men.
Apparently the Seven had removed the body — Sophie didn’t care where as long as she didn’t have to see it — and none of them were in sight. But two figures on horseback emerged from the trees near the river. Sophie recognized them at once.
“Petra! Roslind!” Sophie ran to meet them, almost tripping over her dress in her headlong rush.
“Sophie!” Roslind cried as she dismounted. “You’re safe. We snuck away as soon as we realized the duchess was truly gone.”
Petra, who’d begun dismounting as soon as Sophie had come outside, reached Sophie first and threw her arms around
her, laughing and crying at the same time.
Roslind continued. “We prayed for you, and Petra said you would be well, that God would take care of you. Is Gabe here? Did Walther find you? We are quite famished. Do you have any food?”
Sophie laughed at Roslind’s childlike speech. She hugged both women together, then each of them separately.
“It’s so wonderful to see you! However did you make it here by yourselves? No, don’t tell me yet. Let me get you inside and feed you!”
Sophie was already anticipating having her “sister” and her “mother” to confide in. She could hardly wait to get them alone to tell them all that had happened between her and Gabe, and let them know they never had to worry about the duchess’s cruelty again.
Petra and Roslind helped Sophie carry the food to the table. Before they were finished, Dominyk entered the room, his gaze immediately settling on Petra, and big tears welled up in his eyes.
Petra stopped what she was doing, a pitcher of milk in her hand, as a smile spread across her face. With a quiet giggle, she set down the pitcher and she and Dominyk met in the middle of the room. Petra leaned over to accommodate Dominyk’s smaller stature and embraced him.
When they pulled apart, they were both wiping their eyes.
Numerous questions rushed through Sophie’s head, but it seemed irreverent to break into their private moment.
Dolf, Bartel, Siggy, Vincz, Gotfrid, and Heinric burst into the room, crowding behind Dominyk as they stopped and stared, open-mouthed, at the spectacle of two additional strange women in their house, one of whom was hugging their indomitable leader.
Dominyk blew his nose, rather noisily, into a handkerchief and then turned to his men. “What?” he asked. “Haven’t you ever seen a man hug his sister?”
The men all coughed and shuffled their feet, but instead of averting their eyes, they continued to stare at the two women.
“All these years of peace and quiet. Now this.” Gotfrid’s lip curled in disgust, but Sophie saw a glimmer of interest in his eyes.
Heinric let out a bellow and started toward Roslind, who was standing just behind the table. His eyes remained fixed on Roslind as his grin widened and his arms stretched wide.
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