At the gate, which stood wide open, an elderly man in a uniform of sorts stood at attention with a broad smile on his face. Max sent a smile and wave in his direction, which made the man smile even more broadly. Several faces could be seen at the windows of the gatehouse, but Susannah had no chance to observe more than that.
It was perhaps a quarter of a mile to the next wall, and she could see a dozen cottages, each with its own garden, in the space with an orchard beyond. All the inhabitants seemed to be standing in their doorway or hanging out the windows, calling welcomes and smiling at Max. A small boy ran alongside the road, blowing a cacophonous tattoo on a tin trumpet.
It was a bit unnerving.
Max continued smiling and waving as they rode on the paved road to the second gate. It struck Susannah that he had grown more and more cheerful as they neared this place. It might be an intimidating pile, but it was also his home.
The moment they passed through the gate, the intimidation increased tenfold. The Gothic buildings of some sort of golden stone bristled with spires and turrets of slate. Beyond the courtyard immediately in front of them, she could see further spires and turrets, all rising higher and higher.
But buildings, no matter how impressive, she could deal with. The problem was the people.
There was no possibility that she could sneak into Ostrov unnoticed. Max had lied. Well, he had misled her. It was one thing to say that they were expected. She had thought he meant that there would be hot baths and food when they arrived. It was outrageous to find herself faced with a formal reception committee. What had he been thinking?
She closed her eyes. Why was she asking herself such an idiotic question? He was a man. He had not been thinking. It would never have occurred to him to think that she would object to being introduced looking like a…like a… Oh, she couldn’t even think what she looked like. It was fine for him. They all knew him, and besides, he looked damnably attractive despite his dirt and bruises.
She, on the other hand… It didn’t bear thinking of.
Servants lined up to bow and curtsy, and by the time she and Max had dismounted, three young men were surrounding them and clapping Max on the shoulder. All Susannah could do was try to hide behind him, feeling disgracefully grubby. This was not the way she presented herself to strangers. Not usually. But her life had left its usual path the day she first encountered Max von Staufer.
“Max, my boy. This is wonderful news.” An elderly lady stood at the top of the stairs, leaning on an ornate walking stick. She was dressed in a beautiful mauve gown trimmed with lace. A cap of the same lace topped her white hair, and she was draped in pearls and diamonds. She could not be dressed more elaborately if she were awaiting a visit from the prince.
What was going on here?
Susannah did not have an opportunity to ask Max, because he had pulled her beside him and was propelling her toward the elderly lady with his arm about her shoulders.
“Suse, this is my aunt, Countess Magda von Staufer. Aunt Magda, may I present my betrothed, Lady Susannah Tremaine.”
She smiled weakly. This was not precisely how she had expected her first introduction as a future bride to go. All right, she might expect to meet some members of his family before the formal betrothal ball that would be held at Penworth Castle, or perhaps in their London house…
Her attention returned to Max, who continued to speak to his aunt as if she—his betrothed—wasn’t even there. “Is everything prepared for the wedding?”
Wedding? What wedding?
“As much as could be done on such short notice has been done.” There was a touch of acid in Aunt Magda’s voice. “Really, Max, you should have given us a chance to prepare properly. This haste—it is not seemly.”
“It is necessary. I will explain later.” He turned the power of his smile on his aunt, and her irritation seemed to melt away.
Susannah’s irritation, or rather her distress, was growing stronger every second. It was rapidly turning into utter panic. She stood as tall as she could, and in the grande dame tones she had learned from her mother, she demanded, “What wedding? What will you explain later? Just precisely what are you talking about?”
Then, to her eternal humiliation, she burst into tears.
“Suse?”
Max’s confused question was overridden by his aunt’s exclamation. “Max, what is happening here? Are you telling me that you have failed to explain yourself to this poor girl? You are impossible!”
Susannah’s feet were swept out from under her; Max carried her up some steps; and a minute later she was deposited on something wonderfully soft. Her sore muscles moaned with pleasure. She heard Countess Magda order a protesting Max from the room, and the next thing Susannah knew, she was sitting up on the sofa, sobbing on the countess’s shoulder.
“He never said anything…not where we were going…or why…and I don’t know what’s happening…”
Countess Magda held an arm around Susannah and patted her gently. “Yes, I know my nephew. He means well, but he can behave like an arrogant ass, always assuming that he is the one who knows best. He is so accustomed to being in charge that he neglects to explain himself.”
“He doesn’t ask me, he doesn’t even tell me…”
“Ach, that is so like him. It is because he has had to make all the decisions for so long now, since his parents died, since he was just a boy. He forgets that sometimes others must be consulted.”
Susannah managed to slow her sobs to a sniffle. “He didn’t say anything…and I didn’t know there would be people. He introduced me to his family, and I look like a bedraggled frump!”
“Yes, men can be very stupid at times.”
“And what does he mean about a wedding? Who is getting married?” Her sobs were subsiding into hiccups.
Aunt Magda pulled back and looked horrified. “You mean he didn’t even ask you…?”
The door to the parlor was flung open, and Max strode in. “Aunt Magda, I am sorry, but I must speak with Suse.”
“You certainly must. You should have done a great deal more speaking a great deal earlier, young man.”
“Not now, Aunt Magda. You can scold me later.” He sat down beside Susannah, drawing her away from his aunt and into his own arms. “Oh my love, my darling Suse, I never meant to upset you.”
Aunt Magda sniffed. “You have a great deal of apologizing to do, Max. I suggest you get on with it. The poor child is worn out and bruised with you dragging her about.” She stood up, but before she left, she looked back and smiled approvingly at them both.
The smile did not help. Susannah started sobbing again, and Max was trying desperately to stop the tears.
“You must stop this crying, Geliebte, beloved. It was important that we get here quickly. You must have realized…”
She sniffed, gulped down a few gasps, and pushed away from him. “Realized what, you foolish man? What was I supposed to realize when you didn’t tell me anything?”
“But…but I thought you knew. We were too close to Hugo’s lands. We had to travel quickly and quietly. I needed to get you here, where you would be safe.”
“And there was some reason why you could not say so?” Anger had dried her tears. “And what is this nonsense about a wedding?”
“Nonsense?” Max pulled back himself in confusion. “I do not understand. You said you would marry me.”
“Yes, but…but today?” The tears were threatening to return. “People don’t get married just like that. There are things to do, preparations, and…and I should be married at my home.” The sobs began again. “I can’t be married without my family. I want my mother!”
“No, no, don’t cry, my love. Don’t cry!” He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, murmuring gentle endearments as he dropped kisses on her hair, on her cheeks. “I never want to make you cry. Please, you must understand.”
The tears subsided again, and the sobs degenerated into sniffles as Susannah leaned against him. “What must I understand?”
Some of his tension eased. “I have to know that you are safe. Once we are married, you will have the protection of my name and title, but even more, you will have the protection of my family.”
“Yes, but why can we not wait? My parents will not object. We could be married at Penworth.”
“Suse.” He sighed. “Think, Suse. We cannot wait. After last night, there would be scandal.”
She sucked in an irritated gasp. “That is nonsense. We weren’t even alone. But even if it were true, we could at least wait for Olivia and Aunt Augusta. They could be here—”
He interrupted her. “Hugo and Dieter will soon discover that the trap they set for me has failed. Before that happens, I must find the princess. Try to rescue her.”
“Try?” Susannah’s voice felt very small.
“No, I will rescue her.” He smiled and rubbed a knuckle across Susannah’s cheek to wipe away the tears. “But something could happen, something could go wrong. I must know that even if something happens to me, you will be safe.”
She stared at him in sudden realization and nodded slowly. Yes, she did see, though not precisely what he intended her to see.
He thought there was even more danger coming. She knew it was real—she had heard that dreadful Angriffer talking about killing Max and the princess as casually as one might discuss a move on a chessboard. They were evil, these people, with no conscience, only greedy ambition. That was why Max had brought her to this castle, this fortress. She had thought he seemed happy to reach here because it was his home, but she realized now it was relief he felt, because this place was safe. He had brought her to the one place where he believed she would be out of danger.
That might be his reason for urging an immediate marriage. It was not hers, of course, but now that she realized the situation, she saw that she had a motive of her own that was just as compelling.
The danger—and she no longer doubted that it was imminent—meant that there might not be another chance for them to marry. There was no way of knowing how much danger would be facing him—facing them—when they went to rescue the princess. No matter how big and strong he was, no matter how brave he was, there was risk. He could be killed. Since his life was going to be in danger, this might be the only chance she had to marry him.
Whatever was to come, she would be his wife. On that she was determined. She had known when she set out with Josef and Emil to save him. She had known then that she was committed to him, bound as completely as any marriage ceremony could bind her.
But if he thought she was going to let him go charging off and get himself killed while she stayed safe here in his castle, he had a great deal to learn. Yes, he would rescue the princess, but he was not going alone. She was going to be right there to keep him safe. Marriage would give her the indisputable right to do so.
After that, after the physical danger was past, they could face the problem he did not yet know about—her parents. They would not be pleased to find that she had married a man they did not know, a man she had known for only a few weeks.
They would not be pleased to find that she had been married without any of her own family present.
They would not be pleased to find that her marriage meant she would be living in a foreign land.
She did not want to think about her mother’s reaction when she learned that a third daughter was being married in another country, and not from her own home.
Her parents were not going to be pleased.
* * *
At least she did not have to be married in her sister’s grubby exploring outfit. Aunt Magda—it was hard to think of her as anything but Aunt Magda after sobbing on her shoulder—Aunt Magda had not only provided her with a huge tub of steaming, scented water and a maid to brush all the tangles and dirt from her hair. She had also produced a wedding gown.
It had been the wedding gown of Max’s mother. It was a bit old fashioned, with its pointed waist and the elaborate embroidery down the front of the skirt and around the hem. But once the enormous puffy sleeves and the odd little cape were removed, it was quite lovely. The heavy cream satin had not stiffened or discolored with age in the slightest. When Susannah first tried the dress on, it had fit almost perfectly.
“Ah good, very good.” Aunt Magda smiled approvingly. “We wore our skirts a bit shorter in those days, but Elisabeth was very tall. The length is just right for you.”
Susannah was not sure she liked being dismissed as short, but when she saw herself in the cheval glass, she saw a princess from a fairy tale. Her hair had been curled into ringlets, and the lace veil was held in place on her head with a crown of pale-yellow roses—yellow roses symbolizing joy. Where they had gotten the roses at this time of year, she did not know. But they were perfect.
She blinked back tears and turned to Aunt Magda. “My mother would love this dress. And my sisters too.”
The older woman smiled with understanding. “As soon as all this”—she waved a hand dismissively—“this foolishness about that princess is settled, Max will take you to your family. Do not fear.”
And then it was time.
The fairy tale continued as she and Aunt Magda rode to the church in a carriage pulled by four white horses. With them was an old man who looked to be at least a hundred years old, a mere memory of a man, a fragile creature dressed in the embroidered silks of a century ago. He said nothing, though he smiled constantly. Aunt Magda said he was her uncle, Baron Arnost, and would walk Susannah down the aisle. Susannah couldn’t help worrying that he might be too frail to make it, but apparently he had accompanied all four of Max’s sisters down the aisle at their weddings. He had become a symbol of good fortune.
When they arrived at the church, a pretty yellow building with an odd, bulbous roof atop the bell tower, Susannah helped Baron Arnost to descend from the carriage. After teetering for a few moments, he found his footing. With a beaming smile, he offered her his arm.
Which of them was supporting the other was unclear. Susannah’s head was spinning with the oddness of it all. Nothing seemed quite real, neither the four white horses, nor the lace veil on her head, nor the little gnome walking beside her.
But then she stepped into the church and saw Max standing at the altar, tall and strong and solid. He was real, and nothing else mattered.
Thirty-two
Max floated on a cloud of euphoria. Whatever might happen in the future, at this moment everything was right. Susannah, his wife, was on his arm, smiling and charming the villagers as they came up to offer their good wishes. Never did she put a foot wrong. She knew, somehow, precisely what should be said to everyone who spoke to her.
How did she know? She managed to make sense of even the strangest bits of Schwäbisch dialect and laughed at her own efforts to reply, enchanting everyone. And when the fiddlers began a lively polka, she looked at him with a question in her eyes. He knew the answer that had to be given and swung her, laughing, into the dance while his people cheered.
They loved her already. Josef had doubtless told them of the way she had flown to Max’s rescue, and if he knew Josef, the tale had lost nothing in the telling. Except the part about where she had slept last night, of course. Josef would never mention that. But her courage? Her daring? Those the old man would have praised to the skies.
He needed to have no fear. Today in this celebration she had wordlessly told his people that she would shelter and protect them as well, and they had sworn to protect her. She had become one of them. She had in no way sacrificed her dignity or denied her station, yet she had bound herself to them. Where had she learned that? Learn it she had, however.
More than he had known, he had found his perfect countess.
In a few hours—less than that, for the sun was vanishing behi
nd the mountains—she would truly be his.
* * *
Aunt Magda and Mama had much in common, thought Susannah. They both set the world around them into order with seemingly effortless efficiency. Ordered it, that is, in the way that they thought proper. They would have been astonished had anyone suggested a different organization.
It was not that Susannah was complaining. To arrange a wedding and a wedding banquet on mere hours’ notice was a Herculean task. She doubted any royal household or any army quartermaster corps could have accomplished it. In fact, she was quite sure those bureaucracies could never have managed. They lacked the imagination.
Even here in the bridal chamber the results of Aunt Magda’s care could be seen. Six gardenias floating in a shallow bowl lent their fragrance to the air. Yellow roses, gardenias—the castle greenhouses must be extensive. A fire blazed in the fireplace—less efficient than a tile stove, perhaps, but more romantic. Susannah stood before it, burying her bare toes in the fur hearth rug, and a shiver trembled through her.
It wasn’t that she was cold. She was covered neck to toe in a nightgown of fine white cotton, trimmed with lace and delicate white embroidery. That would not have kept her warm, but over it she wore a robe of soft blue wool and had a cashmere shawl draped over her shoulders.
No, it wasn’t the cold that made her shiver. It was the uncertainty. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. Should she stand here by the fire? Should she get in the bed? It was an enormous bed. Well, Max was so big that he doubtless needed an enormous bed. She had a momentary vision of him sprawled out on top of it. Just the thought flashing through her mind was enough to make her blush furiously.
She blinked to clear away the vision and studied the bed. There were several feather beds piled up on it, and quilts—white, with complicated stitching—on top. If she lay down on it, would she disappear, swallowed up by the feathers?
Perhaps she should stay right where she was.
She knew what to expect. Sort of. It was just as well that her sisters, Elinor and Emily, had decided that there was no point in her waiting for Mama’s talk the night before the wedding. They had assured her that it was really marvelous, the most wonderful thing she could imagine.
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