Authors: Juliette Waldron
"We'll sit for a moment,
Caterina," he said, his usually musical voice echoing in the room.
"They will bring us water and something from the kitchen."
He didn't sit with her, just went to gaze
out of one of the high narrow windows that looked down the mountain. Caterina
stared around her, noticing that while the battle flags made a welcome
brightness against the gray walls they were badly torn and singed.
"I see you have the family arms
displayed, the von Hagen's, and those of our great grandfather von Velsen and
of the Mecklenburg’s, but the devices on those
two are odd."
Cat indicated the ones she meant.
"Where did they come from?" It seemed to be something to talk about.
At once he turned and smiled, a man taking
pleasure in a woman's interest. It was a ray of sunshine in that cold
ceremonial room.
"They are Turkish, taken at the battle
of Isvestia from the troops of Pasha Selim, one of the Grand
Turk's Lords. He was commander of the flank that I broke."
"Aren't such things the property of
the Emperor?" Caterina continued to gaze, thoroughly impressed.
"Usually, but his Highness was
gracious enough to honor me with these at the time he awarded me my
title."
"When you were
wounded."
"Yes." Christoph's expression
grew solemn.
"A great honor, Herr Graf." Cat
gazed at his trophies with respect.
"God was pleased to give my men and me
a great victory over Pasha Selim and then to spare my life. For a
soldier," her husband said thoughtfully, "it would have been no bad
end to make a brilliant exit that day, to go to a grave heaped high with honors
in the service of the Emperor."
"Wili spent all that winter on her
knees praying that you would be healed."
"The irony is not lost on me."
The sunlight went from his expression as soon as Cat spoke her sister's name.
"Wili was a good and devout woman. Far too good, I have come to think, for
the likes of me." With that he turned away and returned to gazing out the
window, as steadfastly as if she had vanished.
Cat wished she hadn't said anything. His
humble mention of God earlier, this quick turn into dark mood was nothing like
the man she thought she knew. She hadn't meant to upset him—or herself, for
that matter. The mention of Wili had occurred naturally. Riding towards the
manor Cat had sadly imagined how different this wedding journey would have been
for her sister.
When, only a moment later, water came in,
two pitchers and two salvers and two towels, carried by the thick arms of two
lumbering servants, Cat heaved a sigh of relief. She and Christoph washed their
hands and faces and dried them upon the toweling.
Next came big breasted Ute with a tray upon
which sat a wonderfully fragrant coffee pot and a dish piled high with an odd
light repast which Christoph explained was favored by some English lords he'd
met in Vienna. It was a meal with which you might punctuate a night of cards,
taking in your hands these two slices of bread filled with beef slices and a
hearty dollop of mustard.
The cook stood at the end of the table,
ready to wait upon any further needs they might have, but Christoph dismissed
her.
"This will hold us until supper"
Sitting in solitary state and wordlessly
they ate. In spite of her depression, Cat was hungry and took care of her share
of the meal. She'd decided that it might be best to be silent for awhile.
Christoph seemed completely engaged by his
own thoughts. She wondered if he would open a conversation, but he did not,
except to urge food or more coffee upon her.
When the plate and pot were both emptied,
Christoph arose, took Cat's hand and led her out of the hall. The peremptory
way he did this, as well as his manner during the meal, made her feeling
uncomfortably like a child left in the care of a disinterested adult.
The feel of that strong hand holding hers
brought to mind their encounter at the Black Swan, an encounter where she had
experienced his emotion and strength in a different way. That night he had
treated her like anything but a child!
Was he, she wondered, just as confused as
she was?
"That's the coldest room in the house,
but it's where I've always eaten for some bachelor's reason. Probably," he
admitted, "because that was where I first found a table. It's not so bad
with a big fire and a bowel of punch and a pack of friends after a hunt,
although it's been a few years since anything like that has gone on up
here."
They were again in the hallway. From here a
steep, ornately carved wooden staircase rose, something that had been added
along with the second story.
"I want to show you your room,"
he said, smiling as they went up together. Food seemed to have lightened his
mood.
The room to which he led her was down a
long dim corridor. It faced south, nicely illuminated by three abutting
windows. Servants were busily hanging green velvet curtains upon a newly
erected bed. Although this was very long and wide, it was something of a
maidenly affair, painted with pink and white flowers etched with gilt. A door
on the left through which he led her opened into a large L shaped room. The
smaller part had a southern window too, but the longer ran the entire eastern
side of the house. This room, Christoph explained, was his.
The L contained a standing desk and several
chairs. The main part of the room had a fireplace, several wardrobes, and wing
chairs and finally, by the east wall, a large walnut bed with embroidered
hangings.
It occurred to Caterina as she looked at
this bed, that it, like the one now being set up in her room was outsize, the
longest she'd ever seen. Both, she realized, must have been made to accommodate
the height of her husband. Upon his bed an enormous black cat reclined, golden
eyes staring. Christoph broke into a happy smile at the sight.
"Katter Furst!" He slowly
approached the animal. "Hello, Wilde Bubbe. Katter Furst! Remember
me?"
The cat gazed with an expression of amber-eyed
unconcern that verged on hostility. Just the tip of his plumy black tail
thumped the bed.
"You can see how long it's been since
I was here," Christoph explained to Caterina. "He's on his dignity
while he tries to figure out who I am."
He knelt beside the bed and then extended
his hand, so the cat could nose it. When this was accepted, he began to gently
scratch its chin then moved to a vigorous rubbing of the massive head and thick
furry neck.
"Ah, Furst.
My handsome Furst," he crooned. It took awhile, but finally
his effort was rewarded with a roaring purr. His careful approach and need to
have the cat accept him touched Caterina. She already knew that her husband was
partial to cats, for he had always been affectionate with Wili's. Holding a
tiny kitten cupped in his big hands, his strong expressive face became almost
motherly.
The preference of this red blooded giant
for the feline had always seemed incongruous, but to anyone who challenged him,
Christoph would say, "Dogs are loyal servants, excellent for hunting and
guarding, but for a
companion
who is a fellow
nobleman, get a cat. They don't love from need like dogs, but because they
choose to."
When, at her husband's urging, Caterina
extended her hand, Furst turned disdainful golden eyes upon her. Slowly he
arose. After haughtily flicking his tail in her direction, he made a dignified
retreat that led him across the bed and then down and underneath on the far
side.
"Oh, ungracious
fellow!
Such bad manners,
Furst."
Christoph turned a smile of amusement towards her. "He
puts on a big show, but he's really soft as butter. He'll learn to like you,
I'm sure. One near stranger making free with his sacred self is probably all he
can tolerate for one day."
At that juncture Caterina focused upon the
embroidered hangings of the bed. Although the sides were pulled back, the head
and foot sections were fully extended. The work was exquisite, covering the
entire surface of each section. It was the most colorful, the most artistic,
and also the most shocking, needlework she had ever seen.
How had she not noticed earlier? Across the
expanse of those hangings, curvaceous naked nymphs and lecherous fauns wantonly
disported themselves. Caterina's green eyes widened as they took in the various
activities portrayed.
"They're French, far too dear to
dispose of, Lady von Hagen, so you'll just have to put up with them. I confess
to hoping they'll put some naughty ideas into your pretty head."
Cat felt the blushing start, but Christoph
was quite gentlemanly. Once again he simply slipped an arm around her waist in
his warm and easy fashion and led her away from the bed, back towards the
adjoining room, the one that was to be hers.
At the door in the L, he paused to
ceremoniously pull the key from the lock.
"You have my solemn word that I'll
never pass through that door except by your invitation," he said.
"But, of course, please consider yourself free to come through mine and
join me in my bed if you ever become so inclined."
Cat
who was still scarlet from those salacious bed curtains, looked
down and felt more color bloom in her cheeks.
"What I don't want," he
continued, "is for you to get in the habit of locking your door when I'm
on the other side of it."
"I hope you are not judging my
chastity by yours?"
"Not at all," he replied evenly,
"I want you to learn that you can trust me."
She shifted uncomfortably as he slipped the
key into his pocket.
"Now, if you'll excuse me I've got to
run over a few things with Walter before we sup. It sounds as if they're out of
your room now, so why don't you go there and I'll have Fraulein Elsa Heerbrand,
the young lady who will be serving you, sent up. Get acquainted, do some
unpacking. I'll returned and take you down to one of our very dull
suppers."
He opened the door that divided their rooms
and formally bowed her through. Caterina, chin high, retreated. Just as he'd
said, the housemaids had gone out, so she went to the window and leaned on the
sill, studying her new surroundings.
* * *
Fraulein Elsa was nervous but full of shy
smiles, a marked change from the rest of the staff. She seemed to be about the
same age as Caterina.
"I know how to help you dress,
Mistress, and I'm very good at arranging hair. I like to do that," she
said, her voice dying away bashfully.
She was rather like Caterina in a way, very
tall, yet not finished growing. Her thin face and long nose gave a naturally
sweet expression a solemn cast. Her skin was clear and her teeth regular, her
hair light brown, her eyes a shadowed blue. When Caterina asked her about her
family, she poured out an entire tale.
"My papa left us a few years
ago," Elsa said, "so Mama came to live with her uncle, Father
Leopold, who is the priest down in Heldenruhe. Mama died last winter, Lady
Caterina," she said sadly, "and I would have kept house for Uncle
Leopold, but he wrote to Herr Graf von Hagen about me and here I am. I pray you
will be patient with me because I've never been trained for service."
"I don't require anything fancy. All
anyone ever does for me is to help me lace up, braid my hair and—" Cat had
a sudden hopeful inspiration, "do some sewing."
"Oh, I love to sew! Everyone says I'm
very good at mending and embroidering." She seemed delighted that she
could be useful to her new mistress.
"Hurrah!" cried Caterina,
blissfully clapping her hands. Sewing had been one of those womanly
accomplishments for which neither her mama nor Frau Pluncke had ever been able
to instill. "I mean," she tried to retrieve a semblance of dignity,
"that pleases me, Elsa. As to my hair," she changed the subject ingenuously,
"Sometimes Mama puts it up like this." She indicated a circlet
"Such red hair you have, Madame,"
said Elsa. "And it looks beautifully thick."
"Yes, it is, so I hope you won't pull
it. I hate that. One of the servants at home always pulled it."
"I promise I'll be very careful."
"Um, well, you've got to pull a
little, I guess, or the brush won't go through."
"My Lady," Elsa asked hesitantly,
"why—why didn't anyone come with you from your homeplace?"
"My, um, husband," Cat stumbled
over the word, "didn't want..." A tremble that seemed to come from
nowhere entered her voice.
"I know how you must feel, my
Lady," said Elsa with deep feeling, "to be away from your home. Up
here at Heldenberg Manor every one snaps and snarls so. I don't think they
wanted me here."
"I don't think they wanted me
either," Caterina replied slowly. "We'll just have to help each
other."
Elsa bobbed a curtsy, flashed a sweet shy
smile. "I will do my best, my Lady."
* * *