Timestruck (10 page)

“Who was he?” Dominick asked. “Your husband?
Your betrothed?”

“I thought we were going to be married. He
lied to me. There was another woman. He’s married to her now. It’s
a proper marriage, blessed by a priest. There was nothing proper
about our arrangement. I got home from shopping one Saturday
afternoon to find he had taken most of the furniture from our
apartment, all the cash in our joint bank account, and he’d gone to
the limit on the credit card I let him use. It took me three years
to pay off the debt.”

“He stole all your possessions,” Dominick
said, translating her words into terms he could comprehend. “Worse,
he destroyed your love, making you afraid to trust another
man.”

“That’s a simplified version, but you have
the basic facts right.” Gina rested in Dominick’s arms, letting
relief wash over her, glad that he understood. Except, of course,
that Dominick didn’t know where or when the misadventure that broke
her heart had occurred. She no longer thought of it as a love
affair; it was simply a mistake she wished she hadn’t made.

One of Dominick’s big hands began to stroke
her hair, smoothing down the short, springy curls. Gina nestled
closer, craving his gentle touch. When Dominick s fingers under her
chin tipped her face upward, and his mouth came down on hers. She
didn’t resist; she didn’t want to.

The next thing she knew she was lying on the
moss, and Dominick’s hands were on her breasts, caressing her. She
opened her mouth, letting his tongue surge into her, wanting the
taste and smell and feel of him, wishing she was unclothed, wishing
she could stay with him always.

His kisses were incredibly sweet. They warmed
her innermost body, stirring her in places no one had ever reached
before. Slowly, ever so slowly, his gentleness opened a narrow
crack in the door to her tightly guarded heart. Sensing his firm
self-control, she allowed herself to trust him – only a little, but
still more than she had trusted any man for years. She made no
protest until his hand skimmed the bare flesh of her inner thigh.
She knew what he was going to do next.

“Stop, please.” She twisted, trying to get
away from him. “I can’t do this.”

He let her go, and she crouched, gathering
herself into a ball, trying to protect herself. It took only a
quick glance at Dominick to see how aroused he was, and the sight
increased her fear.

“I thought you wanted it, too,” he said, his
voice surprisingly calm.

Gina looked at him doubtfully, unable to
believe he wasn’t going to strike out at her in some way. He met
her gaze squarely, observing her expression, and she saw
understanding come to him.

“He did this to you, made you afraid of a
man’s possession.” It was a flat statement. “That cowardly
knave.”

“I don’t want your pity. Just keep your hands
off me.”

“Never in my life have I forced a woman. If
you will allow it, I would like to hold you and comfort you. I give
you my word, I will do nothing more. I think you need
comforting.”

“No.” She sat up straight. “Keep your
distance.”

“Will you at least eat something? You must be
hungry after riding all morning. I know I am.”

“Could I have some wine?” What she really
wanted was a large shot of vodka to dull the pain of roiling
emotions she couldn’t explain to him – or to herself. She had seen
no evidence of distilled spirits at Feldbruck, so she’d settle for
wine.

Dominick filled one of the wooden cups he’d
brought along and handed it to Gina. While she drank he drew his
knife and set about slicing bread and cheese. She took the food he
offered her, and he was careful not to allow his fingers to brush
hers any more than was necessary. He didn’t want to frighten her
all over again.

In a way, the day was a complete failure.
While showing Gina around Feldbruck, he had tried to draw her into
talking about her own home, only to learn she knew nothing of
farming or country life. Hedwiga had already informed him that Gina
was ignorant of all aspects of housekeeping. Even if she lived in a
city, she should have been familiar with cooking and cleaning, with
laundry and sewing. Even if she’d been raised in a convent she’d
have been taught those simple skills at an early age, for nuns and
their pupils did not exist in prayerful idleness. Nor did Gina
display any interest in prayer or other devotional acts.

When he embraced her, she responded with
sweet passion, but only to a certain point. She was plainly
terrified of anything more than kissing and holding and a few
exploratory caresses. Either she was an exceptionally clever spy,
as he had first suspected, or she was exactly what she appeared to
be: a lost and untutored girl who had been badly hurt by a selfish,
abusive man.

Despite all his attempts to probe both her
past and her current purpose, Gina remained what she had been since
he’d found her in his bed – an elusive, intriguing mystery. And
Dominick, with his blood still aflame from their kisses, with the
feel of her bare skin still tingling against his hands, wanted her
as he had never before wanted any woman.

Except for a few suggestions on horsemanship
from Dominick, their return journey was silent. Gina was still too
upset by her own emotions and too tired after her long first
horseback ride to make conversation. All her remaining energy was
concentrated on staying in the saddle. As they slowly made their
way back to the manor, she promised herself that the first thing
she’d do after she dismounted was hobble to the bathhouse, where
she could sink into a tub of hot water and stay there until all the
aches in her legs and hips were soaked away. Then she was going to
skip the evening meal and sleep until morning.

Perhaps after a good night’s rest she’d be
able to cope better with her feelings for Dominick. She knew what
she needed to do for her own safety. She needed to convince herself
that her reaction to him was purely a physical response to an
attractive man. Then she needed to put her unwanted emotions away
deep in her heart, lock the door, and keep it locked forever.

The problem was, she was no longer sure she
could do that. Dominick’s understanding response to the story of
her unhappy past, coupled with his willingness to let her leave his
embrace even though he was sexually aroused, had changed her
attitude toward him in a way she didn’t fully comprehend as yet.
The man was capable of amazing self-control. He didn’t even seem to
be angry with her for refusing him. And he hadn’t hit her.

By the time she and Dominick turned into the
open gateway of his home, Gina was reeling with emotional and
physical exhaustion. Thus, she didn’t notice at once how many
people were gathered in the courtyard. Not until Harulf caught her
horse’s reins and made Cela stop did Gina begin to pay attention to
what was going on around her. There were half a dozen men-at-arms
she’d never seen before, and more horses than usual. She saw
Dominick leap off his mount and hasten to where Arno waited at the
door of the formal reception room. The two of them disappeared
inside. Gina looked to Harulf for enlightenment.

“Shall I help you dismount?” Harulf asked
her. “Ella told me to look out for you. When you and Dominick were
gone for so long, she said she was sure he had taken you over every
hill and stream he owns, and you’d be stiff after riding so far
your first time on a horse. Benet, come here,” Harulf called to a
boy who stood nearby. He tossed Cela’s reins to the boy, then held
up his hands to catch Gina.

“Thank you.” For the second time that day
Gina fell off a horse and into a man s arms, but this was not at
all like falling into Dominick’s embrace. Harulf was a robust,
handsome fellow, but he was in love with Ella and simply helping
her new friend. He held on to Gina’s shoulders until she was used
to having her feet on solid ground again. Her hands on his
forearms, she smiled up at him. “What a nice man you are.”

“Remind Ella of that,” he said, grinning.
“Can you stand alone now? Benet will see to your horse. He’s one of
the grooms, and a good one, too. If you are going to continue to
ride, you’ll want to learn how to care for Cela, and Benet will be
happy to show you what to do. This isn’t the time, however. We have
guests. Only two, but they are an important pair, and you will
probably want to wash and change your gown before the evening meal
begins. Ella told me to say that.” He ended his speech with a
self-conscious smile.

“Harulf,” Gina said, looking across the
courtyard, “what are those two animals that are being led into the
stable?”

“Those are donkeys,” Harulf answered.
“Priests ride them.”

“The guests are priests?”

“One is. The other has refused for years to
take his vows. Ella will tell you all about it,” Harulf said. “Will
you be all right now? I should be on sentry duty.”

“Go ahead, then,” Gina told him. “I don’t
want you to get into trouble on my account.”

“I won’t,” Harulf said. “Not for the sake of
a guest. Dominick will understand.”

They parted, Harulf turning toward the wooden
gatehouse and Gina heading for the hot bath her overworked muscles
demanded.

To Gina s surprise, Ella was waiting for her
in the bathhouse, ready with soap and a pile of clean towels and a
robe for Gina to put on after she was dry. The big wooden bathtub
was draped with a sheet to prevent splinters and filled with
steaming water. The moist air smelled of lavender and thyme.

“What luxury! But how did you know when I was
coming?” Gina asked as Ella helped her out of her clothes. She
slipped into the herb-scented water with a blissful sigh.

“Because of our unexpected guests, the
sentries were on the alert for Dominick’s return,” Ella explained.
“They sent word to Hedwiga as soon as you were sighted. I suggested
you could use some help to get cleaned and dressed and into the
hall as quickly as possible, and Hedwiga agreed.”

“You told Harulf to meet me at the gate,”
Gina murmured. “I appreciate that. Thank you for caring about
me.”

She could easily have been lulled into sleep
by the warmth of the water, but Ella wouldn’t allow it. Never had
Gina been in and out of a bathtub so fast. Even so, while Gina
washed herself, Ella used the time to explain who Dominick’s guests
were.

“The priest is Father Guntram of Prum,” Ella
said in a reverent tone. “He’s a very holy man. It is an honor to
have him here. And such a long journey from Prum, too.”

“Who is the other man?” Gina asked while
soaping her hair. “There were two donkeys.”

“That’s because Pepin can’t sit a horse
without pain,” Ella said. “Even slow travel on a donkey is
difficult for him.”

“Pepin?” Gina asked, reaching for the pitcher
of rinse water. “Do you mean King Charles’s father is here?”

“No, that Pepin is long dead. This Pepin is
Charles’s eldest son. He was named for his grandfather before –
well, before his parents noticed his deformity.”

“What deformity?”

“He’s called Pepin Hunchback,” Ella said.

“You’re telling me the heir to the throne is
physically disabled? That is good to know in advance.” Having
rinsed her hair, Gina grabbed the towel Ella offered and began
rubbing her head with it.

“Pepin is not the heir,” Ella said. “How
could he be? He can’t ride a horse or lift a sword for more than a
few moments, and thus he cannot lead the Franks into battle. A man
so physically weak can never be king. Charles’s heir is
Carloman.”

“Carloman?”

“Charles’s oldest son by his third wife,”
Ella patiently explained.

“That would be Queen Fastrada?” Gina guessed
as she stepped out of the bathtub.

“Oh, no,” Ella said with a laugh. “Fastrada
is Charles’s fourth wife. The first two he divorced, and the third,
Hildegarde, died. Hildegarde was Carloman’s mother. Pepin’s mother
was Charles’s first wife, though the Church claims they weren’t
really married because no priest blessed the union. There now, you
are all clean.”

“Just in time, too,” Gina said. Having dried
her arms and legs while Ella talked, she pulled on the loose robe
and collected her discarded clothing, preparing to leave the
bathhouse. “Another few minutes of explanations and I’d never get
your royal family straightened out in my mind. And I thought the
British royals led complicated married lives! So, when the Church
proclaimed its new rule a few years ago, Pepin was declared
illegitimate, just as Dominick was?”

“That’s right,” Ella said. She opened the
bathhouse door, letting in cooler air that banished the warm and
steamy atmosphere. “We must hurry. You don’t want to be late.”

When they reached Gina’s room, a new gown was
spread out on the bed, with a clean linen shift to wear
underneath.

“Of course, it’s one of Lady Hiltrude’s
gowns. Hedwiga altered it for you to take to Regensburg,” Ella
said. She picked up the shift and slid it over Gina’s head.

The gown was bright blue silk with bands of
green and blue embroidery edging the wide round neck and the long
sleeves. There was no waistline; the skirt flared out from Gina’s
hips into swirling ripples of fabric.

“It’s beautiful.” Gina spun around, watching
the way the skirt moved. “I feel like a princess.”

“Lady Hiltrude never looked so pretty in it,”
Ella said, tugging the bottom of one loose sleeve into place. “She
always wore such a sour face. You are almost always smiling. That
makes all the difference.”

“Me, smiling?”

“You probably don’t notice, but it’s true,”
Ella said. “It’s too bad you don’t have any jewelry to set off the
dress.” She looked at Gina as if expecting her to produce some.

“I’ve never been much for jewelry,” Gina
said. “I don’t like the cheap stuff and can’t afford the good
stuff, so I do without.”