“You’ve known him for a while? Since he was a boy?”
Frank’s face hardened and he looked at her a long while before he spoke. “Not since he was a boy. I doubt anyone has.” A shadow crossed the old face. “Master Fredrick’s different, Scarlet. Has a dark streak in him. Once in a while he’s…” He stopped, shook his head sadly. “But he’s a good man. Never forget that, no matter what happens.”
Master Fredrick’s different.
She could tell. And he wasn’t the only strange thing in these parts either. There was Lothar and his sick ways, the Lady Katrina who let it all happen—then there were the beatings, seemingly at regular intervals…
Scarlet had never seen someone heal so fast from such vicious beatings. Merely a day after she’d found him naked, bleeding on the floor, he was completely healed, with not a scratch on him.
Fredrick von Innsbruck was more than just “different”. Though she wasn’t exactly sure what he was.
* * * * *
Later that night, when it was time to bring the master his last meal of the day, Scarlet took a longer time to prepare herself. She’d try to talk to him tonight, maybe even have a closer look at the blasted lock. The danger of such a line of thinking made her tight and twitchy. What if the lady surprised her? Wouldn’t she be thrilled to have a servant she’d saved from certain death meddle in her affairs. What if Lothar caught her tinkering his patient’s lock? Her fear of him had her nearly paralyzed.
No matter. Her mind was made. Scarlet had often taken chances. Tonight, she would again. And a big one at that.
She took a bath, tried her damnedest to make something of her hair then reported to the kitchen just as Ute was pulling the vial of tonic from her vest. A jolt of shame pricked Scarlet’s heart. Ute probably didn’t even know what she was putting in her master’s food. Only devious characters would know—crooks and thieves and murderers. People like her.
“Good evening, Scarlet,” she said as she ceremoniously put two drops of the stuff onto the pork chops. “The master’s favorite,” she added fondly.
Without looking down at the tray, Scarlet took it to the tower door and unlocked it. She was about to enter when someone put a hand on the door and closed it in front of her.
“Just a moment of your time, my dear,” Lothar said very close to her ear. A stray strand of his long hair tickled her cheek.
Scarlet gripped the tray tighter. The disgust she felt for him must have shown plainly enough. She forced a blank expression. “I’m very busy, Master Lothar.”
“I think I have fallen in love with you, my dear,” he said, leaning against the door and crossing his arms. The deep blue of his doublet accentuated his hazel eyes and luscious lips.
Any other woman would’ve thrown herself at his feet. And Scarlet was sure it happened often enough. But the wicked things this man did…the maid bound and straddling that odious contraption…and even the Lady Katrina, such a strong woman, cowed by fear because of Lothar. But what made Scarlet’s jaw harden was what Lothar did—continued to do—to Fredrick. Some things could never be forgiven. This was one of them.
“You torture me, Scarlet,” Lothar said, running his tongue behind his teeth. “Perhaps I could invite you to my chambers tonight? Would you come?”
The mere thought horrified her. “Master Lothar,” she replied, needing all her aplomb to not kick him in the shins and run. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think Lady Katrina would like this very much. Please, I must do my work.”
“So dedicated,” he replied, moving away but watching her like a hawk would a mouse. “Do not make me beg. I hate begging…when I am the one doing it.”
Scarlet stared stubbornly at the ground while the man turned away. “Oh, one last thing,” he said, looking back over his shoulder. His gathered hair glistened like a golden-brown snake. “Don’t become too attached to dying men. In my trade, we have to learn this lesson quickly. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”
A jolt of fear jabbed her heart. Dying men. She nodded. When he left, she stayed at the base of the stairs, trying to calm her nerves. There could be no plainer warning. What had she gotten herself into? Yet inaction was proving more difficult than taunting good fortune with a sharp stick as she was about to do tonight.
Scarlet’s plan had crystallized by the time she got to the top of the darkened stairs. She knocked twice and waited.
“Come in,” came the gruff reply.
“Your meal, Master Fredrick,” Scarlet said, putting the tray on the table.
Avoiding her gaze, he sat at his end of the table and planted his palms on the tabletop when Scarlet drew near and flapped the serviette above his lap. It looked as though he was struggling to keep his hands on the table.
Scarlet looked back at the door, took a deep breath and said, “The pork may be a bit underdone tonight.”
As though something had poked him in the backside, he started and looked up at her. “What did you say?”
Would she hear it if someone sneaked up the steps? Had her guilt shown plainly on her face when Lothar had seen her? What if he wanted to check on his “patient” and caught her at it? It was a chance she was willing to take.
Scarlet looked at the door again then back at him. “The pork,” she replied, straightening, “I think it’s a bit…underdone.”
His red eyes were fixed on her for so long Scarlet thought she’d melt. Finally, a small nod confirmed he’d taken her hint.
“Then I’ll avoid the pork.”
Fredrick wasn’t ill. It was Lothar’s “tonic”—wolfsbane, a poison—that was responsible for the constant fever, the dullness of his gaze. She’d seen poisoned people before, unfortunately knew something of it herself. As much as she’d enjoyed cursing Werner for his bad influence, Scarlet was more than happy now to have recognized the signs.
If this is what it was.
Perhaps she would kill him by depriving his body of the “tonic”. What if it was a genuine remedy? Although she doubted it very much, what if she were wrong and it wasn’t wolfsbane Lothar was giving Fredrick? Scarlet closed her eyes briefly. She had to do something. She couldn’t be part of it anymore. She wouldn’t.
While she wrestled with her conscience, Fredrick cut his food with deliberate care, brought it in small bits to his well-formed mouth and chewed slowly, carefully. He took a sip of wine, his eyes never leaving hers. When he brought the glass down, his lips glistened.
Watching him eat was entrancing. She swallowed hard. To Hell with self-doubts. She was going to assist this man and Heaven help her if she failed. And Heaven help them if she succeeded.
“Oh, you dropped a piece of bread,” Scarlet said, kneeling by the foot of his chair.
She felt him tense when she wrapped her hand around his ankle. Only one look would suffice. A push lock, two tiny directional bolts and an armored front to prevent it from being smashed open. Pricey and custom-fitted as well. A challenge, but not impossible. She’d need a pick and a pair of long-nosed pliers. Some twine.
Scarlet straightened. “There, no trouble at all.”
Her sudden movement blew out the tiny candle.
The moon cast bluish light that barely poked in the room, and Scarlet realized she could only see about a foot in front of her, despite her excellent night vision. But she knew Fredrick could see very well in the dark. His eyes were two glowing embers.
“Darkness doesn’t frighten you?” His voice was like velvet on her skin.
She shook her head. “It’s always been my friend. My protector.”
“To protect you against what?”
She felt the heat of his hand but not his touch. He must have put it very close, yet didn’t make contact. A shiver rippled up her spine.
“Why don’t you sit?”
Scarlet sat in the chair opposite his.
“So, against what does darkness protect you?”
“Those who wanted to hurt me.”
“Did the darkness always protect you?”
&nbs
p; “No. Sometimes they found me anyway. But I gave them a run for their money.”
Fredrick blinked in the darkness, the glowing orbs disappearing for a split second. A flash of teeth revealed he was grinning. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Scarlet smiled the first true smile in what felt like ages. No guarded thing, either, but a true smile that conveyed the happiness, the comfort she felt now. Like she’d always been here, conversing in the shadows with this strange man. As though she belonged here. Despite her best effort, the smile slid off her face. She belonged here no more than she did anywhere. She’d be gone soon, and she wouldn’t see Fredrick von Innsbruck again.
But she sure wouldn’t leave before trying to help!
He must have seen her change of expression for he leaned forward and put a hand over hers. The heat emanating from his palm felt good to her chilled hands. She let him gently run an index finger over the small bone at her wrist.
The simple touch was liberation to her soul. The terrible guilt gnawing at her lessened. She didn’t know this man. But she didn’t need to. She recognized wickedness when she saw it, and this castle was host to the most sordid affair she’d seen. And she wouldn’t be part of it anymore.
“Why are you doing this?” he whispered.
“Because it’s wrong…all of this,” she snarled, pointing with her chin at the whole room, “is wrong and I won’t be…” She cursed under her breath. “Look,” she said quickly before she changed her mind, “I’m a thief and a liar, so I can’t judge. But I’m not that bad.”
By now, her eyes had accustomed to the near darkness and she saw Fredrick lower his chin, as though fighting an internal battle. Scarlet put her other hand over his, and squeezed it tightly. “I’m not the only one who thinks it’s wrong either. Frank thinks so too, and Ute would if she knew…if she’d seen…”
Without thinking, Scarlet pushed her chair back and came around his side of the table. Fear of being discovered made the whole thing even more urgent, left her heart beating so hard it hurt.
Fredrick didn’t look up as she wrapped her arms around his head and pulled him to her chest nor did he try to stop her when she slowly ran her fingers through his hair, slicked back the silky white locks.
Scarlet’s heart beat madly against her ribs, and she knew Fredrick could hear it well with his ear right against it. For the first time in her life, she followed her heart, even if her instincts were clamoring that she leave this dangerous place and never look back. She let her hand fall to his shoulder then to his throat. The whole while he felt rigid, tense.
“You must…” Fredrick began, faltered. “She’ll do to you what she did to all the others.”
Instead of replying, Scarlet undid the first silver button.
He balled his fists on the table. But he didn’t move.
Another button came undone in her fingers. Outside the shrill song of a night bird pierced the silence. A third button. With her ears buzzing with fright and excitement, Scarlet slipped her hand inside the tunic, gently, slowly, grazed the skin with the pads of her fingers. Her dream came back to her. She pushed the dreadful image of the snarling wolf’s head out of her mind. Fredrick was a man and she a woman, both with very human needs.
A strange sound accompanied her progress. She realized with shock it was coming from Fredrick’s mouth. He was grinding his teeth. His tiny nipple tightened when she circled it with her index finger.
“Scarlet.” Her name was a warning.
She unbuttoned him down to his waist and parted the lapels of his tunic. Despite the gloom, she could make out the contrast of black fabric against pale skin. His breathing became quick and shallow. Scarlet snaked her hand lower along his abdomen and gasped when he grabbed her wrist. She wasn’t quite sure how he did it—one moment she was standing beside him, his head against her chest and the next she was straddling him as he avidly gorged on her throat. His hands shook as he pulled the rest of his tunic apart.
Scarlet moaned as she tugged the lace holding the collar of her dress and created a V of flesh into which Fredrick quickly dove. While he pulled her bodice open, she hoisted herself up from his lap, her hand feverishly searching under her. His ember-hot cock emerged from underneath layers of twisted fabric.
“Scarlet,” Fredrick murmured, this time her name not a warning but a plea.
The thrill of their forbidden actions slicked her sex, and she was more than ready for him when she guided his member into her. As she was about to descend onto him, Fredrick grabbed her hips and tilted his pelvis upward. A hiss of pleasure escaped her when the smooth shaft glided in effortlessly, rubbing along her sensitive pearl. When she bore down with all her weight, the feeling of fullness made her groan.
She was used to men taking their pleasure and leaving it at that. So Scarlet gasped in surprise when Fredrick snaked a hand under her to stroke her bud with his thumb. A tiny ripple heralded the wave that hit her lower belly. Cramping her cheek muscles hard, she arched, not caring what she must have looked like, until her back connected with the table.
As he thrust into her with a frenzy that both delighted and shocked her, Fredrick trapped one of her nipples with his lips and sucked hard. At the same time, his thumb, now wet from her juices, rubbed upward over her burning bud, which produced a jolt that shook her. Scarlet cried out. And when a wave unlike anything she’d felt before unfurled—a flag catching a strong gust—she snarled his name.
Standing, Fredrick pumped hard and fast now, his hands clutched at her thighs, his mouth ravaging her breasts and throat. Scarlet let herself fall back against the table but held on against the edge to keep from moving under Fredrick’s assault.
Another wave hit her. This time, Scarlet didn’t care if she woke the dead. A long, plaintive cry that started in her belly tore up her throat. Fredrick gathered her in his arms and pulled her to him. When he stumbled back down in his chair, Scarlet thought he was going to pierce her womb for the force with which his member drove in. Panting hard now, Fredrick pulled almost all the way out. As Scarlet was about to protest, he thrust back in.
“Scarlet!” he snarled in her ear as a great tremor shook him.
Knowing he’d spilled himself, she cradled his head against her chest until both their breaths had returned to normal rhythms. Sweat slicked her chest and thighs while her nether lips throbbed contentedly. Scarlet smiled in the darkness.
After a while, she meant to pull up from him but he held her. “I must leave.”
“Yes, you must. I want you to pack your bags and leave tonight.” He spoke urgently. His arms encircled her shoulders and squeezed tightly. “It’s dangerous here. Especially now.”
“Especially now what?”
Fredrick let out a great sigh. “She’ll know.”
“Lady Katrina?”
“Don’t call her that,” Fredrick snapped as he let Scarlet off his lap. “She’s no lady. But she’s smart. She’ll notice the difference. So I want you gone by dawn, Scarlet. Do you understand?”
“It’s not her, it’s Lothar. He’s the one behind it all—”
“Dawn, Scarlet. Please.”
Without him in her, she felt bereft and empty, despite the happy throb in her sex. Scarlet rearranged her dress and hair. But she suspected he was right, that his cousin would notice. She’d have to be extra careful. Extra sneaky. Scarlet sighed. Unfortunately, she was good at that.
After grabbing her hand in his, he kissed her palm and let it go. “Tomorrow, if you’re still here, I’ll tell my cousin I don’t want you anymore. That you’re a lousy servant.”
She knew his words were meant to sting, make her leave Innsbruck. It wouldn’t work. She had a plan. And maybe, maybe, it’d work.
“I have to leave for now,” she said, rushing for the door. “But I’ll be back.”
“Scarlet, tonight is…”
The last sight she had of him was Fredrick leaning his head dejectedly against the table.
Once outside, the draft cooled her cheeks. She coul
d pretend bravery, pretend she had a plan so Fredrick would feel better. She had a plan, but it was a foolish one at best. What if she failed? She’d never be able to face him again, knowing he’d still be chained, at the mercy of God knew what Lothar was doing. Filthy bastard. She hoped Fredrick got his hands on him.
Scarlet forced calm into her mind.
No. This had to be about business, not feelings. She couldn’t let her affection for Fredrick get in the way.
She’d go find the tools she’d need and pick Fredrick’s lock. She was good at it. With any luck, she’d do it quickly and get out of this place. What he wished to do once he was freed surely didn’t include her. What did she have to offer a man like him?
When she reached the door down the stairs, Scarlet slipped her hand in her pocket to get her key.
It wasn’t there.
Rummaging through her many pockets, she turned up nothing. Where could her key have been? In the room upstairs? Surely not, she would’ve heard it falling. Perhaps when she knelt by the chair? Or when she was with Fredrick? No, her pocket was much too deep. Plus, her comb was still there and so the key should be too.
Fredrick? Had he stolen her key? But it wouldn’t open the lock to his manacle. It made no sense at all. She’d met no one else after using it to enter the tower.
Lothar.
Oh, the tricky… Anger boiled in Scarlet’s veins. She’d seen his type before, the backstabbing, scheming sort. Well, he judged her wrong if he thought she’d go to his chambers and beg for her key. She’d go straight to the lady and ask for hers, plead for her forgiveness at having lost her own key. Better this than crawl into that man’s bed.
But what if the lady was in on the whole affair? Scarlet closed the door, but it wouldn’t stay closed and creaked ajar. She cursed. They’d notice right away it wasn’t locked and come looking for her. No way she could find what she needed to pick his lock, get back here, do it then help him out. And do it all before either Lothar or the lady would know the tower was unlocked. If not them, then any good-intentioned servant would bring it to their attention. An uproar would ensue. Scarlet raked her hair back.
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