A Scandalous Adventure (18 page)

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 of 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.”

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.

At the gate, which stood wide open, an elderly man in a uniform of sorts stood at attention with a broad smile on his face. Max sent a smile and wave in his direction, which made the man smile even more broadly. Several faces could be seen at the windows of the gatehouse, but Susannah had no chance to observe more than that.

It was perhaps a quarter of a mile to the next wall, and she could see a dozen cottages, each with its own garden, in the space with an orchard beyond. All the inhabitants seemed to be standing in their doorway or hanging out the windows, calling welcomes and smiling at Max. A small boy ran alongside the road, blowing a cacophonous tattoo on a tin trumpet.

It was a bit unnerving.

Max continued smiling and waving as they rode on the paved road to the second gate. It struck Susannah that he had grown more and more cheerful as they neared this place. It might be an intimidating pile, but it was also his home.

The moment they passed through the gate, the intimidation increased tenfold. The Gothic buildings of some sort of golden stone bristled with spires and turrets of slate. Beyond the courtyard immediately in front of them, she could see further spires and turrets, all rising higher and higher.

But buildings, no matter how impressive, she could deal with. The problem was the people.

There was no possibility that she could sneak into Ostrov unnoticed. Max had lied. Well, he had misled her. It was one thing to say that they were expected. She had thought he meant that there would be hot baths and food when they arrived. It was outrageous to find herself faced with a formal reception committee. What had he been thinking?

She closed her eyes. Why was she asking herself such an idiotic question? He was a man. He had not been thinking. It would never have occurred to him to think that she would object to being introduced looking like a…like a… Oh, she couldn't even think what she looked like. It was fine for him. They all knew him, and besides, he looked damnably attractive despite his dirt and bruises.

She, on the other hand… It didn't bear thinking of.

Servants lined up to bow and curtsy, and by the time she and Max had dismounted, three young men were surrounding them and clapping Max on the shoulder. All Susannah could do was try to hide behind him, feeling disgracefully grubby. This was not the way she presented herself to strangers. Not usually. But her life had left its usual path the day she first encountered Max von Staufer.

“Max, my boy. This is wonderful news.” An elderly lady stood at the top of the stairs, leaning on an ornate walking stick. She was dressed in a beautiful mauve gown trimmed with lace. A cap of the same lace topped her white hair, and she was draped in pearls and diamonds. She could not be dressed more elaborately if she were awaiting a visit from the prince.

What was going on here?

Susannah did not have an opportunity to ask Max, because he had pulled her beside him and was propelling her toward the elderly lady with his arm about her shoulders.

“Suse, this is my aunt, Countess Magda von Staufer. Aunt Magda, may I present my betrothed, Lady Susannah Tremaine.”

She smiled weakly. This was not precisely how she had expected her first introduction as a future bride to go. All right, she might expect to meet some members of his family before the formal betrothal ball that would be held at Penworth Castle, or perhaps in their London house…

Her attention returned to Max, who continued to speak to his aunt as if she—his
betrothed
—wasn't even there. “Is everything prepared for the wedding?”

Wedding? What wedding?

“As much as could be done on such short notice has been done.” There was a touch of acid in Aunt Magda's voice. “Really, Max, you should have given us a chance to prepare properly. This haste—it is not seemly.”

“It is necessary. I will explain later.” He turned the power of his smile on his aunt, and her irritation seemed to melt away.

Susannah's irritation, or rather her distress, was growing stronger every second. It was rapidly turning into utter panic. She stood as tall as she could, and in the grande dame tones she had learned from her mother, she demanded, “What wedding? What will you explain later? Just precisely what are you talking about?”

Then, to her eternal humiliation, she burst into tears.

“Suse?”

Max's confused question was overridden by his aunt's exclamation. “Max, what is happening here? Are you telling me that you have failed to explain yourself to this poor girl? You are impossible!”

Susannah's feet were swept out from under her; Max carried her up some steps; and a minute later she was deposited on something wonderfully soft. Her sore muscles moaned with pleasure. She heard Countess Magda order a protesting Max from the room, and the next thing Susannah knew, she was sitting up on the sofa, sobbing on the countess's shoulder.

“He never said anything…not where we were going…or why…and I don't know what's happening…”

Countess Magda held an arm around Susannah and patted her gently. “Yes, I know my nephew. He means well, but he can behave like an arrogant ass, always assuming that he is the one who knows best. He is so accustomed to being in charge that he neglects to explain himself.”

“He doesn't ask me, he doesn't even tell me…”

“Ach, that is so like him. It is because he has had to make all the decisions for so long now, since his parents died, since he was just a boy. He forgets that sometimes others must be consulted.”

Susannah managed to slow her sobs to a sniffle. “He didn't say anything…and I didn't know there would be people. He introduced me to his family, and I look like a bedraggled frump!”

“Yes, men can be very stupid at times.”

“And what does he mean about a wedding? Who is getting married?” Her sobs were subsiding into hiccups.

Aunt Magda pulled back and looked horrified. “You mean he didn't even ask you…?”

The door to the parlor was flung open, and Max strode in. “Aunt Magda, I am sorry, but I must speak with Suse.”

“You certainly must. You should have done a great deal more speaking a great deal earlier, young man.”

“Not now, Aunt Magda. You can scold me later.” He sat down beside Susannah, drawing her away from his aunt and into his own arms. “Oh my love, my darling Suse, I never meant to upset you.”

Aunt Magda sniffed. “You have a great deal of apologizing to do, Max. I suggest you get on with it. The poor child is worn out and bruised with you dragging her about.” She stood up, but before she left, she looked back and smiled approvingly at them both.

The smile did not help. Susannah started sobbing again, and Max was trying desperately to stop the tears.

“You must stop this crying,
Geliebte
, beloved. It was important that we get here quickly. You must have realized…”

She sniffed, gulped down a few gasps, and pushed away from him. “Realized what, you foolish man? What was I supposed to realize when you didn't tell me anything?”

“But…but I thought you knew. We were too close to Hugo's lands. We had to travel quickly and quietly. I needed to get you here, where you would be safe.”

“And there was some reason why you could not say so?” Anger had dried her tears. “And what is this nonsense about a wedding?”

“Nonsense?” Max pulled back himself in confusion. “I do not understand. You said you would marry me.”

“Yes, but…but today?” The tears were threatening to return. “People don't get married just like that. There are things to do, preparations, and…and I should be married at
my
home.” The sobs began again. “I can't be married without my family. I want my mother!”

“No, no, don't cry, my love. Don't cry!” He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, murmuring gentle endearments as he dropped kisses on her hair, on her cheeks. “I never want to make you cry. Please, you must understand.”

The tears subsided again, and the sobs degenerated into sniffles as Susannah leaned against him. “What must I understand?”

Some of his tension eased. “I have to know that you are safe. Once we are married, you will have the protection of my name and title, but even more, you will have the protection of my family.”

“Yes, but why can we not wait? My parents will not object. We could be married at Penworth.”

“Suse.” He sighed. “Think, Suse. We cannot wait. After last night, there would be scandal.”

She sucked in an irritated gasp. “That is nonsense. We weren't even alone. But even if it were true, we could at least wait for Olivia and Aunt Augusta. They could be here—”

He interrupted her. “Hugo and Dieter will soon discover that the trap they set for me has failed. Before that happens, I must find the princess. Try to rescue her.”

“Try?” Susannah's voice felt very small.

“No, I will rescue her.” He smiled and rubbed a knuckle across Susannah's cheek to wipe away the tears. “But something could happen, something could go wrong. I must know that even if something happens to me, you will be safe.”

She stared at him in sudden realization and nodded slowly. Yes, she did see, though not precisely what he intended her to see.

He thought there was even more danger coming. She knew it was real—she had heard that dreadful Angriffer talking about killing Max and the princess as casually as one might discuss a move on a chessboard. They were evil, these people, with no conscience, only greedy ambition. That was why Max had brought her to this castle, this fortress. She had thought he seemed happy to reach here because it was his home, but she realized now it was relief he felt, because this place was safe. He had brought her to the one place where he believed she would be out of danger.

That might be his reason for urging an immediate marriage. It was not hers, of course, but now that she realized the situation, she saw that she had a motive of her own that was just as compelling.

The danger—and she no longer doubted that it was imminent—meant that there might not be another chance for them to marry. There was no way of knowing how much danger would be facing him—facing
them
—when they went to rescue the princess. No matter how big and strong he was, no matter how brave he was, there was risk. He could be killed. Since his life was going to be in danger, this might be the only chance she had to marry him.

Whatever was to come, she would be his wife. On that she was determined. She had known when she set out with Josef and Emil to save him. She had known then that she was committed to him, bound as completely as any marriage ceremony could bind her.

But if he thought she was going to let him go charging off and get himself killed while she stayed safe here in his castle, he had a great deal to learn. Yes, he would rescue the princess, but he was not going alone. She was going to be right there to keep
him
safe. Marriage would give her the indisputable right to do so.

After that, after the physical danger was past, they could face the problem he did not yet know about—her parents. They would not be pleased to find that she had married a man they did not know, a man she had known for only a few weeks.

They would not be pleased to find that she had been married without any of her own family present.

They would not be pleased to find that her marriage meant she would be living in a foreign land.

She did not want to think about her mother's reaction when she learned that a third daughter was being married in another country, and not from her own home.

Her parents were not going to be pleased.

* * *

At least she did not have to be married in her sister's grubby exploring outfit. Aunt Magda—it was hard to think of her as anything but Aunt Magda after sobbing on her shoulder—Aunt Magda had not only provided her with a huge tub of steaming, scented water and a maid to brush all the tangles and dirt from her hair. She had also produced a wedding gown.

It had been the wedding gown of Max's mother. It was a bit old fashioned, with its pointed waist and the elaborate embroidery down the front of the skirt and around the hem. But once the enormous puffy sleeves and the odd little cape were removed, it was quite lovely. The heavy cream satin had not stiffened or discolored with age in the slightest. When Susannah first tried the dress on, it had fit almost perfectly.

“Ah good, very good.” Aunt Magda smiled approvingly. “We wore our skirts a bit shorter in those days, but Elisabeth was very tall. The length is just right for you.”

Susannah was not sure she liked being dismissed as short, but when she saw herself in the cheval glass, she saw a princess from a fairy tale. Her hair had been curled into ringlets, and the lace veil was held in place on her head with a crown of pale-yellow roses—yellow roses symbolizing joy. Where they had gotten the roses at this time of year, she did not know. But they were perfect.

She blinked back tears and turned to Aunt Magda. “My mother would love this dress. And my sisters too.”

The older woman smiled with understanding. “As soon as all this”—she waved a hand dismissively—“this foolishness about that princess is settled, Max will take you to your family. Do not fear.”