A Scandalous Adventure

by Lillian Marek

  How could Josef have allowed her to run into such danger? There had been an ambush; there had been weapons, gunshots. Did she think she could wave off bullets with her parasol? She had not been injured, true, but she could have been. It was a miracle that she had not been killed! He was ready to kill her himself.

  And then he had awakened with her beside him…

  “You let her sleep in my bed?” he roared at Josef.

  The old man shrugged again. “You were cold, and we needed to keep you warm. I did not think it would matter.”

  She had been here all night with him? She had slept in his bed? She was willing to ruin herself, all to protect him? He shook his head in silent amazement. Was there ever such a madwoman? His woman. He was ready to kill her. Or to burst with pride. One or the other.

  But just as she had protected him, it was now time for him to protect her. He had to keep her safe. He had to think.

  It was not even a question of her reputation. She had been gone from the castle overnight. That was probably known by now. But no one except Josef would know what had actually happened, and there was no doubt of Josef’s loyalty. That could be managed.

  The real danger came from the Herzlos twins. There was no knowing how much disruption their plotting might cause, how much turmoil they could create. Things seemed to be approaching a crisis. They were taking more risks now if they were willing to try to capture him. That meant they no longer felt as if they were in control.

  Yes, it would have been Dieter Angriffer who ordered the attack on him. Dieter would also take steps to ensure that his own head stayed on his shoulders. In many ways, Dieter had always been a daredevil, but he would not deliberately sacrifice himself. He would rather sacrifice others.

  Max sat there trying to analyze the risks, the possible dangers. He needed to think clearly. Too much depended on him. He needed to think. But a bubble of joy kept rising to take over his thoughts: She threw herself into danger to rescue me! She is mine!

  He had to concentrate.

  Things had become more dangerous now. Even if an open conflict with Hechingen and Prince Gottfried could be avoided, it would be easy enough for Dieter and the twins to start riots in Nymburg. If that happened, there was no way of controlling the outcome. His own parents had died simply because they were in the castle when the rioters broke in all those years ago. What security would there be for a woman—a lady, to be sure, but one who was without the protection of a powerful family? One who was nothing more than the companion of an elderly lady?

  Susannah needed his protection, the protection of his family.

  She would be out of harm’s way on his estates. It was the only place he could be certain of her safety. There, his men—all his people—would guard her.

  Especially once she had the protection of his name. Once she was Countess von Staufer.

  That was it. Until she was his wife, he could not be certain of protecting her. They had to be married right away. No one would touch his wife.

  “I don’t know this place,” he said abruptly. “Where are we?”

  “On your lands. This is one of the hunters’ camps. Your grandfather had them built.”

  Josef had moved over to the fireplace and was calmly kneeling there to lay a fire.

  A fire—that was good. It would be more comfortable for Susannah when she woke. “We’ll need some food,” Max said absently. “She’ll be hungry.”

  Still kneeling, Josef turned to look at Max. “We didn’t stop to pack a lunch when we went chasing after you. I could try to catch a hare.”

  Max flushed. Of course they didn’t have food. He wasn’t thinking properly. But… “How far from Ostrov are we?”

  Josef shrugged. “Not far. Perhaps an hour’s ride. Maybe two.”

  “Good. You will ride to tell my aunt to prepare for a wedding today. And tell Father Milan.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead. “A wedding in the village church. It must be there so all will see.” He thought some more. “Lady Susannah will doubtless need some things for the wedding. Tell my aunt to be prepared.”

  The old man sat back on his heels and looked at Max. Then he smiled slowly. “She will be a worthy countess.”

  Max smiled too, the first time he had smiled since his confession to the prince. “I know.” Suddenly he felt lighter, almost happy.

  Josef paused in the doorway. “Emil should be here soon. He will tell you what he has done with the prisoners.” It was almost a question.

  “We will wait for him. I would not want him to worry,” Max replied, answering the unasked question.

  He heard a step behind him and turned. Susannah was standing there, one hand on the bedroom door. Her face was still flushed from sleep, but there were rings of strain under her eyes. She was wearing some bizarre costume that was all wrinkled and twisted, streaked with mud and dark blotches that were probably blood. His blood. Her hair was a tangled mess.

  She was beautiful.

  His bride-to-be. Happiness blossomed and filled him.

  She began to smile at him, but then her eyes filled with concern. “Should you be out of bed? Are you recovered?”

  Such foolish questions did not require an answer. In two strides he was at her side and she was in his arms. His mouth claimed hers, and he drank deeply of her sweetness. After a moment’s hesitation, she responded with all he sought and more, her softness yielding to his touch.

  The sound of horses outside called him back to himself, and he lifted his head to listen. That Susannah was none too steady as he relinquished his hold gave him a rush of satisfied pride. Still, there was no time for that. Not yet. He pushed her behind him when he hurried to the window. It was one of his men, almost ghostly in the lingering morning mists, leading a string of horses.

  Susannah recovered from his kisses more quickly than he would have liked, because she was right behind him, peering around his shoulder. “Oh, there’s Emil,” she said. “Has he been gone all night? What has happened?”

  Ah yes. Josef had told him that his grandson was disposing of the attackers. Max opened the door and stepped out to be greeted by a flood of words as a grinning Emil proudly described his activities.

  Max could not suppress an answering grin. It seems that his attackers were now tethered in various places in the forest: one in a cave, one in a thorny thicket, and one on a rock in the middle of a stream. They would all be able to untie themselves eventually, but that would be just the beginning of their woes. Emil had left them stark naked. It would be some time before they found their way out of the forest—and even longer before they would be able to convince anyone that they were not escaped madmen.

  “What is it? What has he done with them?” Susannah had followed and was tugging at Max’s sleeve. She could not follow the Schwäbisch dialect easily yet. “He hasn’t killed them, has he?”

  “No, no. They are a bit uncomfortable, but unharmed.” He had no intention of enlightening her any further than that.

  “What’s this?” She had gone over to a couple of sacks tied onto one of the horses.

  He was curious as well, and went over to inspect them.

  Emil explained, with a satisfied look. Since the attackers had all worn the Herzlos colors, he thought it might be useful to bring their boots and clothes along. One never knew when a disguise might be useful.

  Max nodded appreciatively. Emil was a clever lad. “You have done well, and I have another task for you. I will write a letter, and after you have had some sleep, you will take it to the prince.”

  The lad went off to take care of the horses, beaming with pride.

  “That really was very clever of him, bringing back their clothes.” She looked after Emil with a smile.

  Her approval relieved Max, though he could not think why he had worried that she might be overly scrupulous. She had never shown herself to be anything less than practic
al. Good. She would see the sense, the necessity of their immediate marriage.

  But perhaps he ought not to mention it just yet.

  Of course he should. What was he thinking? She had just spent the night with him. No matter that it was all innocence, if only because he had been unconscious throughout. The first words out of his mouth should have been a proposal. Emil could have waited.

  “Suse…” He reached out and tucked one of the dangling locks of hair behind her ear. She was so very dear to him, this woman who had come racing to his rescue. The love in his heart drove the words from his mind. “Suse,” he said again.

  She smiled.

  There must be words he was supposed to say. He tried again. “I love you.”

  Her smile illumined her face. “And I love you,” she said.

  The joy in him burst out in laughter, and he pulled her into his arms and swung her around in a circle until she laughed as well.

  He slowed the spin to a halt but kept his arms around her. “We will marry,” he said.

  She still laughed. “Is that a proposal?”

  “Oh yes.” He pulled her close and buried his face in her tangle of hair. “Yes.”

  She lifted her face to look at him. “Then my answer is yes.”

  Now she was his to kiss, now and always.

  When he lifted his head again, his breathing was rough. “We must go to Ostrov now.”

  Thirty

  Susannah was hungry and tired and sore. They had left the hunters’ camp shortly after Emil’s arrival and before they had anything to eat. That was because there hadn’t been anything to eat except for a few sour apples hanging from a tree by the door. And water, of course. Plenty of fresh, cold water from the pump in the yard.

  Just the memory of washing in that icy water made her shiver.

  Now they were riding through endless forest—they had been riding for almost an hour through the blasted forest—and she was so far beyond uncomfortable that she had no idea how to describe it. She was not accustomed to riding astride, not since she had been a child racing across the moors near her home at Penworth Castle. She was a young lady now, and she rode the way a young lady should, decorously sidesaddle. At least she usually did.

  Yesterday she had ridden astride without a thought of the discomfort because fear for Max had driven every other concern out of her head. Today, he apparently assumed that this was her normal way of riding and was setting the pace with no concern for her.

  What’s more, they were riding in silence. This was his land, he had said, but they did not want to attract attention, just in case. Just in case of what, he had not explained, and she had no energy to spare for demanding explanations. She had trouble enough just staying in the saddle.

  She could not understand how he managed. It was not as if he had escaped yesterday’s adventures unscathed. Aside from being drugged, which should have left him groggy, he had to be suffering from all those bruises. The black eye he was sporting made him look like a pirate, especially with the unshaven stubble covering his face.

  Instead, she was the one suffering. A small moan escaped her as he increased the pace to a trot and her horse followed.

  Apparently he noticed the sound, because he turned and asked, “Is something wrong?”

  She gritted her teeth before replying. “No, what could be wrong?”

  He beamed a smile at her. “We are almost there. The horses know and are eager for their own stable.”

  In that case, the horses knew a lot more than she did.

  Where were they going?

  “To my home,” he had said.

  Did he say anything more about it?

  No.

  Did he say why they were going there, rather than back to the castle?

  No.

  Where was Josef?

  “He went ahead to get everything prepared,” he had said.

  What things?

  He smiled and said nothing.

  She was filthy, she was hungry, she was tired and sore. The blasted green cloak was all that was keeping her warm, and she had no idea where she was or where she was going. Max hadn’t said a word about the fact that she had rescued him. Well, Josef and Emil had rescued him, but they couldn’t have done it if she hadn’t told them he was in danger.

  He had said he loved her, and he said they were going to be married. She could not fault that. But then after just a single kiss he had practically shoved her back on this horse without a word of explanation except that they were going to Ostrov.

  It took every shred of pride she possessed to keep from bursting into tears.

  They came to the end of the forest, and at last they entered sunshine in a valley looking up at a hill.

  “There it is!” Max sounded almost smug, as if the sunshine had been his accomplishment.

  She realized that he was pointing at something off in the distance, so she looked. Then her jaw dropped. She made some sort of strangled noise.

  He seemed pleased by her reaction. “My home. Ostrov.”

  “No, it isn’t.” Her voice returned, but as a cracked squeal of protest. “I saw your house. We went there when we left Baden.”

  That had been a pleasant, if neglected, residence. This was… She didn’t know how to say what this was. It was the entire top of a mountain, that’s what it was. She could see at least two separate encircling walls with towers and more towers within the walls.

  It was the size of a small city.

  Off in the distance were fields, some with the stubble of this year’s harvest, others with herds of cattle. A church steeple and a few roofs indicated a village or town not too far off at the base of the mountain, and a small river appeared and disappeared as it wove through fields and forests.

  Above all this, Ostrov floated, a city in itself, looking as arrogant and assured as a lion, too powerful to worry about any possible challenges.

  She was impressed.

  She was terrified.

  “When we left Baden?” He looked momentarily confused, then his face cleared. “Ach, no, that was not my home. That was only a small hunting lodge on one of my estates. Ostrov is the family seat.”

  “The family seat,” she repeated.

  Max was a count, Count von Staufer. She had known this, but she had not thought of his position as anything so, so regal. After all, her own father was a marquess, but their home, Penworth Castle, was modest compared with this. She didn’t know any house in England that took its role as a castle so seriously. This wasn’t the home of a gentleman or the estate of a nobleman. This was the seat of a ruler.

  After a quick swallow, Susannah forced up the corners of her mouth into what she hoped was a smile. “Goodness, it’s large.”

  “Large?” He looked at it with a slight frown, as if he had never noticed its size before. “I suppose it is.”

  “You suppose it is? Of course it is! For goodness’ sake, it must be bigger than the prince’s castle in Nymburg.” This was not the time for false modesty.

  “Perhaps. But we do not have a throne room.” He grinned. “Do not worry. You will soon grow used to it.”

  “I will?” What did he mean? How did anyone grow used to a palace?

  “Assuredly.” Max sent her what was obviously intended to be a reassuring smile, rather like a pat on the head. “Come. They are expecting us.” He kicked his horse into a trot and headed down the hill.

  She bounced after him, calling, “Wait. What do you mean? Who is expecting us?”

  He slowed until she was riding beside him again. The smile was still on his face. “Truly, there is no need to worry. It is only my family. I sent Josef ahead to tell them that we were coming.”

  “Your family. I am about to meet your family.” Susannah thought she kept her voice admirably cool. At least she didn’t shriek.

  “Not all o
f them, of course.” He grinned. “My parents are dead, I have no brothers, and my sisters have married and moved away, but I have a great many cousins and uncles and aunts. I think only my Aunt Magda is in residence—she makes her home here most of the time—and probably a few cousins.”

  She pulled up her horse. It took him a moment to realize that she was no longer riding beside him. He turned back, the grin fading to a look of concern.

  “Count von Staufer,” she said.

  The look of concern deepened at her formal address.

  “Count von Staufer,” she repeated. “Look at me.”

  He looked, but in a puzzled way as if he had no idea what the problem was.

  “I am a mess, a filthy, bedraggled mess!” Her voice was definitely approaching shriek level now, and she tried to lower it. “I am in no condition to meet your family.”

  He laughed. “You look far better than I do.”

  That was possibly true but only because she didn’t have a black eye.

  “Do not worry,” he continued happily. “Aunt Magda will have arranged things. We will both be able to clean up and change before…”

  “Before what?” Susannah asked suspiciously.

  “Before the others arrive.” He shrugged and waved at Ostrov once more. “Look. It is not far. We can be there within the hour.”

  Thirty-one

  Susannah bounced along beside Max—there didn’t seem to be any alternative—but she had not failed to notice that he hadn’t looked her in the eye when he replied to her question.

  They rode up a grassy path. It was quite steep, but through the trees she could see glimpses of a paved road that wound more gradually up the mountainside, presumably for carriages. A stone bridge, wide enough for the largest carriage to cross in comfort—and for both of them to cross side-by-side in equal comfort—brought them across a sort of chasm to the gate in the first wall. Whether the chasm was natural or man-made, she could not tell, but both the bridge and the wall were of carefully dressed stone and well maintained. A stout defense.