Chapter 4
Friedrich
The bed, softer and warmer than any bed I’d ever slept in, was my first reminder that I was in Count von Waldeck’s castle.
I relaxed each muscle into the mattress before opening my eyes to see a walnut canopy above me.
Black wood posts twisted down to the coverlet, and I let my fingers run over the fabric, smooth as velvet, before sitting up with a groan.
Looking down at myself, I saw my tattered livery had been replaced with a simple shirt. All my personal belongings were gone.
The letter.
Panic-stricken, I patted down the blankets and mattress to find it.
I dug through the pillows but came up empty.
Flipping back the coverlet, I gingerly stepped out of bed, crouching on the ground to look under the frame as a timid knock sounded at the door.
I had little time to hoist myself back onto the mattress before the door clicked open and a beautiful face peeked around the corner.
The countess raised her brows in surprise. “You’re awake.” Pink colored her cheeks, and she lowered her eyes to the ground, stepping inside the room with her lady-in-waiting close behind.
“How long have I been here?” I asked.
The countess wouldn’t meet my eye as she walked to the bedside and put her hand to my forehead. “Three days. Your head is cooler now. Do you feel any chill?”
What I felt was the softness of her skin on my face. I never knew hands could be so soft, but it ought not surprise me. Nobles never did do much work.
“No chill,” I answered.
“Belinda, the electuary.” The countess waved her companion forward.
Mistress Hatzfeld brought a silver tray for the countess, who picked out a corked flask full of an alarming brown liquid.
She gripped the flask with her fingertips, careful not to let it bump her bandaged palm.
That uncomfortable tug in my gut was back, and I squirmed.
Apologies had never come easy for me, but I couldn’t ignore my wrongdoing.
“I’m sorry again about your hand. I really was trying to help.”
“I know. It was an accident, and I shan’t hold that against you.” Her tone was light, untroubled, as if she actually meant what she’d said. But people did not forgive so easily. I wouldn’t trust her ready pardon.
The cork opened with a pop, and she put the flask in my hand. “It tastes vile, but it will help balance the humors.”
Gulping the tonic, I forced myself not to shiver with disgust before I put the empty flask back in the countess’s hand.
“Very good.” She sounded impressed and even peeked a glance at my face but quickly looked away when she met my eye. I almost laughed. Where was the bold, demanding woman from the other night?
“I’ll need to change out the poultice . . .” She hesitated, and I wasn’t sure why until she pointed to my shirt still covering my side.
“Oh, yes, just let me . . .” I fumbled with the blanket, wrapping it tight around my waist to keep myself decent, which earned another blush from the countess.
When I wriggled my shirt up to show her the wound’s wrappings, she knit her brows with a determined focus.
She cut away the old bandage, uncovering a greenish, leafy mud smeared against my skin, then took a clean cloth from Hatzfeld’s tray and gently wiped the poultice.
“What is your name?” Her voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear her.
“Friedrich.”
“And how were you injured, Friedrich?”
“A lancer hurled his weapon at me. He only managed to graze my side before I buried a lead ball in his eye.”
Hatzfeld’s eyes went wide, and though Countess Margaretha continued cleaning the mud, her silence suggested my topic might be unfit for refined ladies.
After a long pause, the countess spoke. “It’s healing, but not as well as I’d like.” She dropped the dirty cloth on the tray and picked up a bowl with more leafy mud, spooning the thick substance over my gash. “It’d heal faster if you kept in your bed.”
So she’d caught me hurrying to get back under the blankets. “I was searching for my livery.”
“The livery was burned.”
I froze. “But . . . I had some things, personal items I always keep with me. What happened to them?”
She put the bowl down to pick up long strips of cloth, laying them out at a frustratingly slow pace before answering. “Put aside when we dressed you.” She kept the last strip in her grip. “Belinda, would you send for them?”
Her companion bowed and put the silver tray on the bed, leaving the room.
“You . . . dressed me?” My neck warmed at even the thought of Countess Margaretha doing so.
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Not I. The servants.”
Oh. “Of course,” I muttered.
We sat in embarrassed silence until the countess cleared her throat. “If you please, I must bandage your wound.”
I shifted away from the pillows, sucking in a short breath when the countess set a hand on my waist. It was only the shock of her touch that caught me off guard.
She shot me a glance, then ducked her eyes back to her work. With the cloth strip pinned beneath her palm, she unwound the bandage, fingers grazing the tender skin at my stomach.
I focused my thoughts on the draping bed canopy until the countess shifted to wrap the cloth around my back, her face merely a breath away from mine.
She kept her gaze down, and my eyes traced the gentle pull of a swallow in her throat, telling me her discomfort was every bit what I felt.
My shallow breaths were steeped in the scent of her: lilacs and sunshine and something distinctly feminine.
The rattle of the door had me straightening, leaning away from the countess as if I’d been caught with the count’s gold in my pocket. I tugged the cloth from her hand and finished wrapping the wound myself, only letting her assist me in securing the bandage into place.
“The lady’s maid will bring your things as soon as the countess is finished.” There was a perceptibly amused tone to Mistress Hatzfeld’s words.
I raised an eyebrow. “The countess isn’t finished?” As if to prove my point, I let my shirt drop to cover my waist.
The countess looked at her companion. “We can be done, yes? He needs his rest now.”
She moved to the door, but Hatzfeld returned to my bedside, picking up the tray and clearing her throat.
The countess froze, her hand still on the handle before she dropped it to her side and dragged herself back to the foot of the bed.
Wrapping an arm around the post, she hugged it as if it were the only thing keeping her on her feet.
“There is one thing more.” She fastened her gaze on the bedcover, tracing the pattern of the fabric with her finger.
I found myself watching her hand dance over the curls and circles.
“In a few months I leave for Brussels, to the court of Queen Mary. If I can gain her favor, I might have a chance to win my brother’s freedom.
” Her words were stiff, as if they’d been rehearsed.
“I’ve learned the queen is an avid huntress, and I was hoping you would teach me to hunt. ”
I waited for her to continue speaking, but that seemed to be it. “What about your huntsman?”
“He’s too feeble.”
“Then why hasn’t he been replaced?”
She tugged on a loose thread. “Father is kind to him.”
I held back a snort, seriously doubting the count was kind to anyone. “Countess, I’m in no condition to be teaching—”
“Not now.” She looked up. “Not until you’ve recovered. But once you’ve regained your usual vigor, I want to be trained.”
Something struck me as off. “Why do you make this request when your father could simply command me?”
Ducking her head, the countess tugged the thread of the blanket harder.
“I see. He doesn’t know, does he?” I adjusted the pillow behind my back and shook my head.
“I will not be teaching you to hunt. I’ve run afoul of your father before and don’t care to risk his anger again.
When I’m recovered, I plan to get myself out from under his charity and away from this castle as quickly as possible. ”
Hatzfeld spoke up from the other side of the bed. “If I may, with the war ending, you’ll be needing to find work. Perhaps Countess Margaretha could speak to the count on your behalf, get you a position here. That is, if you agree to act as her instructor.”
The lady-in-waiting bowed her head again after speaking, assuming the role of a humble servant despite her bold speech.
I did need the money. And with little training or skills, finding a position would be nigh unto impossible.
Still, I loathed the idea of working for the count, knowing I would chafe under his orders.
Being conscripted to his army was bad enough, but to work here in his castle?
I’d only come back at all to fulfill my duty and deliver news of his son.
I had no high opinion of the count. And despite my childhood impressions of the countess, much time had passed.
She was likely now as spoiled and selfish as every other woman of her rank.
Living here, working with the pair of them . . .
I shook my head at the thought but startled when my eyes landed on Hatzfeld’s venomous glare. She lifted a brow as if daring me to refuse.
The countess pulled herself around the bedpost, actually meeting my eye when she sat down by my leg.
“Please,” she said, her voice breaking as she scrubbed a hand over her nose.
Was she about to cry again? “He is my brother. I must do something to help him. If you agree to teach me, I promise to grant you anything you ask.”
I let out a skeptical laugh. “What could you possibly grant—” I stopped short, an idea forming. “Anything I ask?”
A sudden, fierce blush came over her cheeks, and she lowered her face. “Anything that will not offend God or my conscience.”
It took a moment before I understood her meaning, but when I did, heat crept up over my neck and reached all the way to the tips of my ears.
“No, I didn’t mean . . . I’m not the kind of man who would demand anything .
. . untoward.” I rubbed the back of my neck to calm my embarrassment.
“I’ll agree to your bargain, as long as you give me time to decide how you will repay me. ”
She looked at her companion, and I caught the slightest hint of a nod from Hatzfeld before the countess spoke. “I agree. And I thank you.”
I nodded a bow, telling myself the bargain didn’t much matter anyway. The count would need a great deal of persuading to grant me a position, and I doubted the shy countess was much good at being persuasive. “Consider me your new hunting instructor.”
She gave me a broad smile, reaching out as if she would take my hand.
I folded my arms across my chest. Her smile faltered, but she soon recovered, dipping her head in farewell and signaling her lady to follow her as she left the room.
Perhaps my snub was too curt. I was in no danger of falling for the countess, and she certainly wouldn’t entertain thoughts of a servant, but something inside warned me to keep my distance.
Maybe it was fear that our shared childhood memory might cloud my judgment.
Or maybe a healthy dose of self-preservation was warning me away from the count, his daughter, and his whole blasted family.
The less to do with them all, the better.
The irony of having just agreed to work for two of them did not escape me.
The chamber door squeaked opened, and a young woman—the lady’s maid—came in with a basket perched on her hip.
“Alone at last.” She shot me a mischievous smile, closing the door behind her.
“It’s good to see you finally awake.” Setting the basket on my bed, she leaned her face toward mine.
“And your eyes are even prettier than I’d imagined they’d be. ”
I choked out my surprise, and she laughed.
“My name’s Ilsa.” When I didn’t respond, she cocked her head. “Not much for speakin’, are you? That’s fine. I like the quiet ones.”
Gracious, she was forward. And had a pleasant smile. I liked her easy manner but had no interest in encouraging her. My stay in this castle was only temporary. Still, I could be courteous.
She was already walking away, pulling open the door when I finally answered. “I’m Friedrich.”
“Ah, he speaks!” She flashed a bright smile. “Well, Friedrich, if there’s anythin’ else you need, I’m just a summons away.” She gave me a final, saucy wink before letting herself out.
Suppressing a grin, I reached for the basket, rummaging through all I owned in the world: the near-empty coin purse, the small rice-filled leather bag for foot games, and the letter.
My touch was careful as I lifted the old paper, unfolding it to study the foreign writing again.
The language was just as impossible to decipher as it had been the first time I’d seen it, but the thought of being able to read the words and finally comprehend them made my heart pump harder.
I knew exactly what I wanted from the countess, and if she could be relied on to keep her word, I could stand to stay under the count’s roof a little longer.