Red Magic (18 page)

"Yes, but he still scares me. Today
he, he—" Cat stammered to a stop.

"What?"

"He was most dreadfully rude."

"And what did you do to provoke
him?"

Cat glared. "Why do you assume that
everything is my fault? I tell you that your servant was rude to me and you
start quizzing me?"

"I just want to know exactly,"
said Christoph, shifting around in his chair and regarding her somberly,
"what Herr Rossmann did to offend you."

"It was what he said."

"Which was?"

Cat knew she'd sound foolish if she hedged
further, but it was difficult to repeat those humiliating words.

"He was touching Star, um, gentling
her, and, um, I could see that she was very frightened. You know how she
is."

Her husband nodded understanding,
encouraging her to go on

"And I told him not to do it
because—because I could see she did not like it. Then he was rude to me."

"I saw Star just before I came in to
dinner. She was beautifully groomed. Head and shoulders above the slap dash
you've been giving her lately," said her husband, showing an eye for the
details of life in his domain which she hadn't suspected.

"That's not fair. I haven't had time
to do a good job since I've been traveling and—and getting settled—and—"

"Back to the
subject, Lady von Hagen.
I promise I shall take
it very seriously if you tell me that one of my servants has been rude to you.
What—his exact words, please—did Rossmann say?"

Cat bit her lip and lowered her eyes.
"He said—he said that I should let him gentle Star because—because—when
the snow came and when I had a—a belly full, I wouldn't be able to do it."

Christoph looked grave. He pushed his chair
back from the table magisterially.

Then taking her hands into his, he said,
"Sounds like nothing less than the plain truth, at least, as
he
sees things."

He pulled her first into his arms and then
onto his lap. The maneuver was complete almost before she knew what had
happened.

"Damn you!"

"Star ought to start getting used to
him—and you ought to start getting used to me."

"Let go!" she cried.

"You are," he teased,
"almost as beautiful as Star and exactly as temperamental."

He held her by the wrists, crossing her
arms around her waist. He let her twist so that
her
back was to him and then pulled her close once more so that his lips could find
the nape of her neck. As they brushed the feathery scarlet tendrils, Cat
trembled. Just for an instant, she stilled, let the tremor run through her.

"Stop!
Please."

"Do you know, Caterina, these last few
months have been the longest in my grown-up life that I've been without a
woman?"

Cat raged inwardly, praying that he would
loosen his grip so that she could get her hands away and give him the slap he
so richly deserved. He did, but only a little, allowing her to turn to face
him. Prudently, he did not relinquish his hold.

"Most men would say that I'm showing
astonishing restraint with a beautiful young creature who is legally my
wife." He was not teasing now, but serious. "And our papas would
bellow in unison that I'm a damned derelict in my duty."

"Are you so quickly out of
mourning?" She said it furiously, wild to hurt his feelings as he had just
hurt hers.

Immediately she was pushed off his lap and
onto her feet.

"Sitting you on my lap and giving you
a kiss is hardly the same as dragging you to bed. You are a temptation, you
know.
Even—or maybe, especially—because I have lost a warm
and loving partner."

"How dare you talk like that about my
dear good sister?"

She was furious, not only because he'd
dismissed her complaint about Rossmann. There was also a desire to erase the
feelings his handling aroused. She moved out of reach, reflexively rubbing her
neck, wanting to erase the tingles his lips had begun.

Her husband stood and shook himself like a
dog throwing off water.

"I shouldn't have teased you," he
said, "and I'll order Rossmann to curb his tongue. But what you aren't yet
old enough to know about human nature—about me, or about your sister—or about
yourself, for that matter, would fill a book."

He strode out of the room, calling
impatiently as he went for Goran and the young soldier who stood sentry in the
front hall. Cat went to the door of the dining room and peeped out. There she
heard her husband giving orders for readying horses, men, guns, and his best
hunting dogs.

In a few moments servants were bustling
everywhere. The officer of the day put in an appearance, accompanied by an
aide. Finally, gathering all her courage, she went out into the hallway among
the men. As soon as Christoph saw her, he said, quite formally, "Grafin,
I'll be away for a few days, hunting the oak woods for the boar that has been
harassing the charcoal burners. Herr Goran will stay and look after you."

Cat, feeling red burning in her cheeks,
knew that she should incline her head obediently and retreat upstairs. It was
something of a shock to realize that Christoph was doing exactly what she'd
seen her father sometimes do to her mother, go hunting in order to terminate a
quarrel. She remembered how her mother had seethed.

She had to cross the room to reach the
stairs, so she started as if going that way, but as she passed Christoph, she
whispered, "I see you run away too."

He stared down at her and in his beautiful
eyes she saw a spark. Laughter or anger, she couldn't tell which.

"Thank your lucky stars." He made
a gracious gesture, bowing her to the stairs. A path cleared before her as she
went.

Later, from her bedroom window, she watched
unhappily as the hunters and a crowd of barking dogs trotted off to harsh
accompaniment of horns.

* * *

 
For
the days of her husband's absence, Cat did one of the things her mother had
ordered her to do, which was to look into the kitchen every morning. It wasn't
easy, braving those cold eyes and she didn't stay long, but even if she didn't
know about cooking, Mama had said that she ought to look to see if everything
was orderly and clean.
Each time she entered the room
everyone stopped what they were doing and stood there looking cross.

"Please don't mind me. She'd tried to
sound nonchalant, but they insisted upon interrupting their work and stood
doing nothing, standing at attention while she was present.

"Does your ladyship need
something?" On the third morning the cook turned, showing a face that
wasn't just red from the heat of her fire. She'd been in a bustle when Caterina
had come in and clearly hadn't relished the interruption. "You can send
Elsa down if there's anything you want. No need for you to trouble yourself
with us."

The woman's tone was more than challenging.
Caterina couldn't find her tongue. She was horribly aware of Josefa smirking in
the corner. There were a few seconds of dreadful silence, all eyes on her.

When she didn't respond at once, the cook
bobbed, threw up her hands in exasperation and turned her back.

"Excuse me, Lady! But the sauce will
burn."

Caterina fled. Titters and hushing noises
followed her retreat up the stairs. Embarrassed and angry that she'd let them
best her, Cat set off to her room. She intended to don her black dress, have
Elsa help her pin up her braid and head for her customary place of refuge, the
stable.

As she plunged around a corner at a run,
she dashed against the obstacle of her husband's chest. There was the smell of
man, pungent with the chase. The beard that he had started gave him an even
more than usually dangerous air.

"What's the matter?" He caught
hold and they spun in a swirl of dress and petticoats.

"Nothing!
Nothing!"
She pushed at the woolly
material of his hunting jacket. "Just let me go." It was too
humiliating to admit that she'd been driven out of the kitchen—her kitchen,
when all was said and done!

"You're running, Cat, and that means
you are running away from something."

"You run." She stopped struggling
and glared.

"Never."

"Never?
Then where have you been for the last week?"

"It was only four days, Caterina. I
didn't think you much wanted my company. And it was more than high time I went
out and took care of that animal."

Caterina looked up silently, tears of anger
and frustration rising.

Men were so unfair, so dishonest!

"You know, Caterina," he said in
a more gentle tone, "it's one of the things I don't understand about you.
You're either in full scale attack or total retreat."

"So! I'm a—bitch—when I fight and a
weakling when I give way? If I were a man, you'd be saying 'courage' and
'discretion'."

She went to storm away, but Christoph
refused to let go. "Pax, Caterina," he said, offering the childhood
pledge. "Your point is well taken. In fact, 'courage' is the word for
you."

He bowed over her hand. Cat accepted his
kiss, watching as the movement sent dark curls tumbling over one big shoulder.

"Let me get cleaned up, Grafin,"
he said, "and we'll talk more at supper."

* * *

He'd shaved, bathed and dressed again, and
he looked splendid. Cat had to admit to herself that she had missed him. They
dined upon delicious venison from a young buck the men had taken, this with an
accompaniment of buttery potatoes and turnips. When Christoph described the
hunt, Cat was an interested listener.

Christoph had, in company with two of his
men, held it with long pikes while the net was thrown. After a dangerous
tussle, they'd managed to dispatch it. The creature had been a huge male, the
body carried back to provide meat for the peasants.

"It seems they were cutting in a part
of the woods that he felt was his. I always hate to kill a creature like
that." Her husband wore a rueful expression, the first that Cat could ever
remember seeing on any hunter, "the old fellow was just defending his
territory, exactly as I would do if some strangers came upon my land. He gave
us a good fight. I thought he was going to get his tusks into Heidelburg the
way he attacked us from cover. He took five of our dogs and got a tusk into
young Seibert's calf. I hope that will heal right…"

Finally, as their plates approached empty,
Christoph suddenly said, "You know, you hurt me at least as much as I hurt
you." When Cat looked up questioningly, he added, "Every time you say
I didn't love Wili."

Feeling sorry, she watched in silence as he
pushed his chair back from the table.

"I think, because we are in a unique
situation, the problem is that neither of us knows how to behave. You can't see
me as your husband and I have a hard time seeing you as anything but wild
little Red."

Cat shifted nervously. This sounded right,
although hearing that she was nothing more than "wild little Red" was
something of a blow to that part of her that had just been surreptitiously
admiring him.

"We need to have some rules. Therefore
Grafin Caterina Maria Brigitte von Velsen von Hagen," teasing had intruded
into his hitherto solemn tone, "since in every verbal combat we've
undertaken, you've demonstrated a surprisingly lawyerly turn of mind, I think I
shall start by explaining a point of law to you."

"A point of law?
As pertains to?"

"Our marriage.
As you know, I have the right to enjoy your body, a right which I
am not exercising."

Cat looked at him warily, but he wasn't
making any moves in her direction, just smiling at her, a smile which had
developed a wicked edge.

"Therefore, it seems to me that in
order to keep that right for some future time when it shall be more proper and
more amenable to both of us, I shall begin to exercise a minute portion of the
above mentioned right at least once every day."

"What?" Cat caught the drift,
however, and this inspired her to try to get up. Christoph, however, had
anticipated. He hooked his foot against her chair rungs and held it still.

"
Which means that
every day I intend to kiss you," he said softly, bending his dark head
close to hers, "and pet you and generally take pleasure just an inch
beyond that which is cousinly, and that you will patiently let me.
"

"Why should I?"

"Because, little Frau, it is a small
prelude to our papas' desire, a small part of my right and a small part of your
obligation."

The pompous declaration was accompanied by
nothing more threatening than a gentle tug upon Cat's long single braid.
"And, because I know what I am about, you and I will slowly but inevitably
come to what everyone expects."