Red Magic (23 page)

"My pleasure."
Her husband smiled joy into her eyes, and then, meditatively ran
his lips across her freckled, smooth shoulder. "A benefit of giving your
beautiful self to a rogue who's had ample practice. And, just imagine,
sweetheart. It can only get better."

Then there was an exhausted descent into
unconsciousness, locked in his arms, his words of love echoing in her ears, his
body so close, so protective and tender. Night and the mountain's huge silence
enclosed them.

* * *

Daybreak… Cat opened her eyes to find him
dressing beside her. On the hearth fresh branches made a chorus of crackling.

"It's just dawn. We'll saddle up and
start down the cow path."

"Is the fog still here?" Dizzily,
she sat up.

"Yes, but not as thick as
yesterday." Carefully neutral, he handed her the wrinkled riding pants.

"Christoph..." she hesitantly
began, twisting and shyly drawing her knees up in an effort to hide.

"Hush, sweetheart." He bent and
dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Just get dressed now. We'll have
plenty of time to talk on the way down." As he went out, bending through
the low door, she caught a glimpse of the veiled light that comes just before
dawn.

* * *

"Give me your hand."

They walked, leading their horses, eyes
carefully trained upon the trampled muddy trail they were following. Obedient
as a child, she put her hand into his.

"You—seduced—me." Her body still
hummed with what they'd done, but this morning the fear was back. Afraid of
what she felt for him, afraid because she knew they were walking down a path
that would lead him away and straight to the temptations of Vienna.

"Yes, but the woman beside me knew
what she wanted. And every word spoken last night is true. I love you, Cat—and
you love me." He sighed. "Damn it, woman, I knew you'd wake up
fretting."

Despite her confusion, she didn't pull her
hand away. She couldn't.

"I—I do love you. I guess you know
anyway. But you—you made something happen I wasn't ready for."

"I was afraid last night when the fog
came down. I thought I'd lost you, just as I lost Wili." He raised her
hand and kissed it. "We're mated now, Caterina."

As he spoke the cloud stirred. Next
came
an icy gust. All the mist remaining went rolling
backwards in a sighing rush, almost as if the mountain had inhaled it. Now,
there was an up and a down—an eye-watering burst of color.

The sun floated on a distant blue horizon.
Spread at their feet was a blanket of yellow and gold, here and there patched
with somber pines. For a moment they stood motionless, his hand warm upon hers.
Cat blinked fiercely against stinging tears.

Chapter Thirteen

She didn't tell Elsa what had happened on
the mountain. She hardly knew what to make of it herself. Her body was engaged;
she wanted more of that—yes! But, in her mind, well, she had expected some
great change from losing her virginity, but here she was, exactly the same as
before. There hadn't been pain or show as she'd been told. It was all very
curious.

She fretted sometimes and then was actually
glad he had gone. What was it about the thing they'd done that made a part of
her so weak, so vulnerable? Cat wished that she had someone older she could
talk to—

Even my mother!

* * *

While Christoph was away in Vienna, Caterina had
planned to spend as much time as possible on her horse, but this strategy was
ruined by an early blizzard. Glumly, she sat with Elsa and stared at a blowing,
a whiteout storm that lasted for days. About 6 hours in, it became very cold
inside the manor, despite the great fires. Then the curtains had to be closed, just
to
barely keep warm. Candles were lit to see and the
downstairs became a cavern. Caterina retreated to her room.

Mountain life had reached the shut in time,
and the days were still shortening. It was hard just to wade to the barn.
Thrown back on
herself
, there wasn't much to do but
brood about what Christoph might, or might not, be doing in Vienna. She tried not to think of it, and her
mood flew back and forth

Cold kept its grip on Heldenberg, but at
last there was no more wind and snow. Cat rejoiced when a track to Heldenruhe
was reopened by the long slow work of sleighs and ox plows. Daily she took a
hard ride in that direction, though if she'd gone so far as to reach the
hamlet, she wouldn't have been able to return until the next day. Most years, they
didn't bother working so hard to clear the big drifts, but this year their
master return.

* * *

It was just before Christmas, during the
daily lesson with Lieutenant Heidelburg, that Cat dropped her guard. He treated
her as he would one of his cadets and put a long, fine slash through her shirt
into her forearm. It bled a torrent. Heidelburg was brusquely apologetic, but
the wound looked deep enough to end the lessons for some time.

Cat, crossly suspecting that he'd struck
her in order to get a Christmas holiday, was on her way upstairs. Her arm ached
and the dressing they'd applied was swiftly reddening. Behind her, she heard
the now familiar tap of a leg. Turning, she saw Goran.

"The Graf is home, Grafin. He wants
you to come to him in his study. He's brought a gentleman back to meet
you."

Desire leapt like a pup on a leash,
although prudence tugged her back. She'd put a lid on all this emotion by
returning to her original stance—that what had happened had been only the first
close engagement of what might be a long war. Losing a battle did not mean she
was utterly defeated.

"Am I expected to change?"
Thinking of the visitor, Cat gestured at the men's clothes she'd been wearing.
Cat was slender, but these days, even in trousers, there wasn't much doubt
about her sex.

"The gentleman won't mind and neither
will the master," Goran had a twinkle in his pale eye. "Oh, what a
brave fellow is that Lieutenant! Here, my Lady, let me see this."

Cat extended her arm. "It's not
bad." Before him, she wanted to be brave, even though the wound was
throbbing miserably.

Goran took her arm in his calloused hands
and examined the bandage.

"He may be a master duelist, but he's
a bad surgeon. Let me retie this before you go up to the Graf."

Another length of bandage was brought and
they sat in the long hall. There in the cold and candlelight, Goran quickly
redressed Cat's arm.

"And that's how it should be
done," He tied the last knot. "And, Lady Grafin, you should know,
though it sticks in his craw, Heidelburg says you're one of the quickest pupils
he's ever taught."

Caterina beamed, pleased to her soul. Just
as she'd always imagined, she enjoyed fencing—even after this.

"Who is the new gentleman?" Cat
asked as Elsa helped her on with the morning gown she'd come carrying.

"You'll pardon me, Lady, but that's
for the Graf to say."

Damn! Cat had learned to fear this prelude.

In the study she found her husband still in
his dusty traveling clothes, but already eating one of those gambler's repasts
of bread and meat. He had a companion sharing his meal, a short, blocky man,
modestly dressed in a black suit and stockings. A thin bit of white lace at his
throat made the only contrast.

"Ah, here you are." Christoph and
the gentleman stood. "Lady von Hagen," this is my friend, Herr
Stocke. He has agreed to spend a few years at Heldenberg."

The man bowed. Caterina, because she was
still in breeches, bowed in return. There was not so much as a flicker of
amusement in the strange gentleman's gray eyes.

"Herr Stocke is a learned man, one who
didn't hesitate to give me some excellent advice when I was a boy. He was even
so kind as to spend the last couple of winters up here trying to teach my
thick-headed sons."

Caterina felt her heart sink. Was this dour
man a school master?

"Yes." Her husband nodded in
solemn answer to the unspoken question.

"Herr Stocke is your new tutor,
Madame. Heldenberg steers a straight course without a wife's hand on the
tiller, or so all my servants are busy assuring me, and as you can't spend all
your life in the saddle or foil in hand, I have hit upon this to fill your
days. As your good parents were so apologetic about the gaps in your education,
I have devised a remedy. Herr Stocke will be able to devote full time to
instructing you in accounts, French, history and geography."

During this speech, Cat experienced a burst
of rage.

"What is the use of bringing this
gentleman? I don't need a tutor. I can learn all I need to know by going about
the place with you and Walter, just as I did with Papa and Herr Longenecker."

"Herr Stocke," Christoph said
evenly, "would you leave us for a moment?"

Before the door had finished closing behind
the upright black figure, Christoph said, "Didn't your mama teach you not
to sauce your husband in front of learned professors?"

Caterina winced, for in catching her arm
his hand had gripped the wound.

"Ow!"

"What's this?" Christoph, holding
her wrist in one hand, pushed back the loose sleeve with the other and revealed
the bloody bandage.

"Ah, poor Cat!
I see that Heidelburg's been teaching you not to drop your guard
and that dear old Goran's been bandaging you."

Cat tried to disengage him, but her husband
had got an arm around her waist and was steering her towards his chair.

"Don't. I'm not a child.
Especially now."

"Yes, angel, but you will listen best
right here." He sat and pulled her onto his knee. "Now, haven't I
said that I shall be gone most of next year?"

"But why should I have a
schoolmaster?"

"My brave and beautiful Valkyrie,
there are lady's maids who are better educated. If you cooked or sewed or knew
anything about housekeeping, your lack of French and everything else might be
overlooked by a gentleman, but you're ignorant as a yearling colt."

"That's not fair. I know all sorts of
things."

"You do, but most of those things are
about horses. You need more than one string to your fiddle.
So,
Caterina, its lunge rope and saddle for you.
You will learn about
keeping accounts, about where you live on this round world and a little French
conversation, or by God above I'll leave orders that you aren't to ride until I
come home."

"No one can keep me away from
Star." This was certainly not the way Cat had imagined his home coming.
"Why are you doing this? I don't need a
tutor,
I
need time to ride the manor. I know how farm things should be. And," she
ended, meeting his eyes, "haven't I—done my duty?"

"Splendidly."
He touched his lips to her shoulder. "But tutoring is not
punishment. Learning should not be confined to childhood."

He was so close, a bit whiskery and dusty
from the road, but the smell of him, the touch of his hand, rekindled all kinds
of memories, not only of the mountain, but of some tenderness between them on
the morning he'd gone away. She felt a thrill at the touch of his mouth.

"There, there, my cat woman, please stop
scratching. I was thinking about your sweet backside every other minute I was
away."

"You must excuse me, Herr Graf,"
Cat muttered, head close against his great chest, "but I'm really getting
cold and my arm hurts."

"My poor Caterina," he said,
shifting to a warm rubbing of her long back. "Damn Heidelburg. Is it
deep?"

"Herr Goran says I'll live."

"Well, then, you will. He kept telling
me that last year when I thought I was dying, swelled up and covered with pus
and leeches and attacked every other hour by surgeons with sharp knives."
He pushed back the sleeve of the morning gown to look at her bandage again.
"We'll undo this before you go to bed and I'll look at it again. I've
grown to be a pretty fair surgeon myself."

With as much dignity as she could muster,
Cat started to rise. "I would like another kiss before you go,"
Christoph said.

"You shouldn't have got the first. You
did—what you did—before you left and then you come back and treat me like a
child! Why do you want to waste my days so that I won't be able to ride and
watch over your land as I should?" Frustration built with every word until
she shouted: "I hate this dreary snow pile and I hate you."

He did not let go. Because the hand he held
was attached to her throbbing arm, she couldn't bring herself to jerk that
away, either.

"I think I'm right about bringing
Stocke here and I hope that in time you will understand why. Come on, dear
little Cat. Just for a minute pull in those claws."