"Well, here's one person," Christoph was saying, "who'll be glad that you aren't too interested in flowers. She likes cabbages better." The cook, a round, homely woman, stepped forward. "I've had cooks from Passau. I've had French cooks too, but by God, give me Frau Ute's cooking over all of them. My father says we eat like peasants up here, but it is right for us, isn't it, my dear?"
He pinched the cook's full red cheek, which caused her to dimple. Emboldened by his obvious affection, she said, "You don't get to eat enough of what I cook, Herr Graf."
"And you, my darling, eat too much of it," he teased, poking at her round belly, "so it works out."
Then, followed by all those wary, curious eyes, they went inside. Herr Goran went first, opening doors. At every other step his wooden leg made a hollow sound on the slates. Caterina had decided during the journey that she liked Goran, although she wasn't sure what he thought of her. He was utterly devoted to his master. As a body servant he was rough in manner and eccentric in dress, but she'd learned that he'd been a common soldier in Christoph's regiment, a Croat by birth, whom her husband had grown to value. After Goran had received his crippling injury, his commander had offered him this job, and Goran, although proud, had accepted. He could soldier no longer and had no home village or even a family to return to. It seemed that all had been lost during an attack by the Croat's hereditary enemies, the Serbs.
Now he, long moustaches drooping, opened the door of a long room decorated with battle flags and trophies of the chase. Somewhat to Cat's surprise, he didn't follow, simply shut the door behind them. Christoph led Caterina to the head of a lengthy trestle table and pulled out a chair for her. He seemed, suddenly, rather ill at ease.
"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."
* * *
Supper was served in the cold gray great room. After a perfunctory speech to her about the fine hunting and riding, Herr Walter involved Christoph in a long discussion about a stand of trees he wished to cut and how the unreasonable, superstitious peasants were resisting the idea. Frau Walter studied Cat, but didn't speak to her, except to coldly offer food. That woman, Cat thought, dislikes me, sight unseen. She would give, she thought, a great deal to know why.
Usually confident and outspoken, Cat felt herself sink. Every reply to her attempts at conversation came back framed in as few cool words as possible.
The food, two large pies, one of green apples, the other of pork, a tray of bread and country cheese, and a big, savory bowl of greens, was soon consumed.
A spare table indeed, Cat thought.
"Why don't you go up now, my Lady?" Christoph suggested. "Walter and I have talked for an hour before dinner and all the way through, boring you and Frau Walter to death and still have not managed to come to the end of Heldenberg's troubles." His tone was light, but she could see weary lines on his face.
Embarrassed, Caterina put down her napkin and rose. Everyone at the table followed suit.
"Ah, Herr Graf," she hesitantly ventured, "I would like to go to the stables to see Star."
"Not tonight, Grafin." His counter formality, the feminine of his title, rang oddly in her ears. "Star is in excellent hands. Believe it or not, probably the best horsemaster in the empire serves in my humble and remote stable. I shall introduce you tomorrow." The Walters obediently nodded. The gesture was emphatic, but some disapproval of this mysterious horsemaster, was observable in their pale eyes.
"But, sir," Cat persisted, "My Star is so temperamental, as you well know..."
Before she could finish, Christoph put his arm around her, began to walk her away from the table. "Go up, Cat. Do me the courtesy of not arguing in front of the servants. You may go to Star as soon as you wish tomorrow and you will see that she is well and that everything is just as I say." His tone was weary, parental
.
Cat swallowed hard and inclined her head. At once Frau Walter clapped her hands and a maid standing by the door stepped forward.
"Light Lady von Hagen upstairs, Josefa. I'll just go and see if the Heerbrand girl has a ghost of a notion about what she ought to do."
Cat didn't like to hear Elsa spoken of like this, but she held her tongue. This place was exactly as strange and uncomfortable as her mother had predicted.
As they started up the stairs, Josefa said, "Watch your step, m'Lady."
Cat, more to hear her own voice than in expectation of conversation, said that she was "sure footed as a goat." When this homely simile drew a slight smile, the first she'd seen on any of the servants besides Elsa, she ventured, "It's been awhile since this house has seen any company, I'll warrant."
"Not really so long." The smug tone of the reply set Caterina aback so much—not the words, but the 'I've got a secret' tone—that she didn't venture another word until the door to her room was opened.
What a relief to see Elsa already there! She was just getting up from lighting a fire in the fat white wall stove which straddled the wall between Caterina's and whatever room lay next to it.
"Frau Walter is wondering where you are right this moment, Miss," Josefa said.
This too, Cat understood, was meant to intimidate, but before she could intercede, Elsa flashed back, "Herr Goran told me to come directly up and get ready for the Grafin."
Josefa sniffed. "Frau Walter is in charge of the household staff, not that old cripple. You'll pay attention to her if you know what's good for you."
Cat stared. Not only the insult to Christoph's valet but the fact that Josefa was daring to scold Elsa just as if Caterina weren't there. Before she could think of what to say, Josefa, without even a curtsy, had sailed out the door.
Worn out with growing uncertainty and a large portion of homesickness, Caterina at once began to think longingly of bed. She was not usually one to hide in sleep, but tonight it seemed the best refuge. Perhaps tomorrow after she'd seen Star and the stables she would feel better.
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