The Legacy (8 page)

Her eyes drifted shut.

Responding to the madness overtaking him, he lifted his finger and slowly stroked across her mouth. When she sighed, he could not resist the temptation created by the silken heat of her breath, and he gently inserted the tip of his finger into the soft O formed by her partially open lips.

Her tongue flicked out, astonishing him with its wet inquiry. Wolf experienced a surge of desire so intense his knees nearly buckled.

Dear God…

Her tongue touched the rough pad on the end of his finger once more.

“Sabina …” he groaned, his voice thick with need.

She opened her eyes wide in shock.

He cupped her cheek, leaned toward her, and—

Bea walked into the room, carrying an armful of linens and clothing. Wolf jerked back at the unexpected interruption.

“Ah, there you two are,” Bea said, voice booming. “I must apologize that it took me so long to find a suitable gown! I had to rummage around a bit for something that might fit you, my lady. It has been quite awhile since anyone here was your size, I am afraid. So thin. Not to worry, we’ll have you fattened up like me in no time, eh? Well, perhaps not as much as me, but still, you’d do fine with a little more meat on those bones.”

Bea bustled about and chattered so much she seemed not to notice the tension in the room. Or she was wisely distracting them both.

Wolf stared up at the ceiling, fingers flexed at his side, and grumbled an ancient Saxon curse word under his breath. Sabina gasped, blushing. She covered her mouth with her hand, found something fascinating on the wall over his left ear, and would not meet his eyes. At the same moment, he realized Bea had turned and now gawked at them both.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, that’s good. I’ve things to attend to, so I had best go … attend to them.”

Bea’s shoulders shook and a titter escaped her.

With a self-mocking smile, Wolf turned on his heel and strode awkwardly to the door, but remembered his manners enough to turn back to Sabina and bow slightly before taking his leave.

“Until later, my lady,” he said, the innocent words holding a wealth of meaning he hadn’t intended. He quietly closed the door behind him and stepped into the hall.

Wolf stretched out his hands in front of him. They shook. He felt hot, all over; his blood raced. It had taken every fiber of his being not to order Bea from the room. He suspected given half an opportunity, he would have tumbled Sabina right there had Bea not arrived, and then where would he be?

In a naked, glorious paradise of silken flesh and black hair,
his mind whispered. He quickly quashed the thought.

He pressed his fingers to his brow, and wondered briefly if he was going mad. He felt … dare he say it? Alive. Spectacularly alive. After weeks of mind-numbing grief, it was a shattering transition.

He realized he still stood outside her door, and he moved quickly away lest someone found him hovering outside her portal like a sycophant. He had things to do. He would make himself useful. The first place to begin was with the baron. Surely a man like him had something to hide, something he would pay dearly to keep secret.

He noticed Franz at the opposite end of the long hallway and motioned for his attention. Franz came at once.

“Yes, Master Wolfgang?”

Wolf eyed him. “You have many friends in Wittenberg.”

Franz inclined his head with a humble bow. “I am pleased to think so.”

“Perhaps they may be of use to us.”

Franz hummed deep in his throat. “Useful friends are worth their weight in gold, Master Wolfgang.”

“Indeed. I need certain information that won’t be easy to obtain. Inquiries will need to be made, both quickly and discreetly. I can do some of it, but as to the rest, may I rely on you?”

“It is my hope to be of service to you in all things, Master Wolfgang.”

Wolf clapped Franz on the back. “As you have always been. Shall we discuss strategy over a bottle of Brandywine?”

The elderly servant’s eyes gleamed.

S
abina stared at the door through which Wolf had just left. Shock at her own behavior made her speechless. Had she just done what she thought? She hardly knew the man. She had no intention of staying. Where was her good sense?

What would have happened if Bea had not come in when she had? She glanced furtively at the housekeeper while Bea placed a nightdress on the bed. Would Sabina and her new husband be sharing her bed even now?

He was a lusty man; she could see it in the way his eyes roamed over her, in the intensity of his manner. He was probably a man used to getting what he wanted. He had not chosen her for a wife, she was certain of that much at least, but it did not necessarily follow he would not take what he had a right to. Though he seemed compassionate in his own way, experience had taught her men could be kind when they wished to be, until they wished it no more.

His gentle hands and green eyes would distract her from her goal, and scores of women would suffer for her weakness. She must never forget herself with him again.

She had no illusions. She was not exceptional in any way. Their marriage not withstanding, she would be merely a vessel in which he slaked his rough lust, and when he tired of her, he would move on. Nevertheless, when he touched her just now, her heart forgot it had once been brutally betrayed; its reckless spirit yearned for what it could not have.

This man could be dangerous for her, in many ways, if she was not vigilant. It would not do to fall under his enigmatic spell again.

“My lady.” Bea intruded on her thoughts. “We must get you out of those wet things. Here, let me—”

Sabina clutched at the still-damp bodice of her gown when Bea moved to untie her laces. “Thank you, but I will not be needing your services. I can do it.”

Bea put her hands on her wide hips, and stared at her as though she was mad.

“And how do you expect to unfasten all those laces? You shall break an arm, surely, in trying to manage. Now let me do my duty, and you’ll be enjoying a warm bath in just a moment.”

Sabina supposed there was no way out of it. She slowly turned her back and allowed Bea to undo the gown. She would just slip out the document and hide it under the linens when the housekeeper was not looking. It was silly to be so stealthy, she knew; she had a perfect right to possess the contract. Yet, a part of her was reticent to trust anyone with it.

“There’s no need to worry, my lady. ‘Tis nothing you have I haven’t seen before. Besides,” Bea said, working the laces open, “it was not so long ago the Master’s mother, God rest her soul, used to stand in this very room—”

She stopped speaking when the gown fell open and Sabina’s chemisette drooped down her shoulder.

“Dear God,” Bea whispered, and simply stared.

Sabina had forgotten. The bruises covering her back would be at their darkest stage by now.

“It looks worse than it is,” Sabina said hastily. “Truly, I am almost healed, I think.” Then, in a small voice, she looked over her shoulder and asked, “Does it really look so bad?”

Bea hesitated before answering. “Well, you know, I have a salve that works wonders for all manner of bumps and bruises. Let’s just get you out of these clothes, and warm you up in the bath, and we’ll see about it, shall we? You’ll be as good as new in no time at all, mark my words,” Bea said, gently peeling the gown away.

Sabina blinked and tears threatened to overflow. Sympathy had a way of disarming her like nothing else.

“Yes. Thank you,” she whispered.

While Bea clucked over her like a mother hen over her chick, Sabina allowed herself to imagine, just for a moment, Sanctuary was her real home, and this was her own chamber. Thus she allowed herself to be lowered into the bath, her hair washed, her skin gently scrubbed.

Afterward, when Bea rubbed in the cooling salve on her back, and sat her in front of the fireplace to dry her hair … as she pulled a hairbrush through it with long, sweeping strokes and hummed a simple tune, Sabina pretended, just for a moment, Bea was her mother, and she was a young girl again.

It was a nice dream, even if it could never come true.

“Oh, my,” Bea said suddenly, “I’ve nearly forgotten how hungry you must be. Let me get the tray, and you can eat while I brush.”

“Oh, nay, I can get it—”

“Nonsense. You must rest and save your strength. The Master is eager to—well, they say he rarely, you know, but …” Bea’s fair skin turned bright pink. “He seems to have noticed you in a way he hasn’t noticed any other in many a day,” she finished meaningfully.

Sabina tried not to gape at that bit of news.

Bea placed the trencher of food in Sabina’s lap, handed her a sweet honey cake, and gave her a knowing wink. “I think you had better eat up as much as you can, if you take my meaning.” She returned to brushing Sabina’s hair.

“I am certain you are mistaken.” Sabina toyed with the edge of the trencher. “About his interest, that is.”

Bea snorted. “Oh, nay. I may be an old woman, but I still can see when a man goes on point for a lovely girl.”

It was Sabina’s turn to blush.

“But Master Behaim,” Sabina said, “he and I are not—that is, tonight is not going to be—” She stopped, having no idea how to explain.

Bea turned Sabina to face her. She waved the hairbrush at her, one hand on her hip.

“Now, my lady, think you not that the Master is one of those men who will take what he wants whenever he wants it. He’s the soul of patience, that one, and you must never be afraid to doubt it. A real man, my mother would call him.” She sighed dreamily. “Why, if I were twenty years younger, and had not known him since he was a babe-in-arms, I’d flash an ankle at him myself, I would. But do not worry, you’ll have plenty of time to recover your strength first.”

She resumed brushing Sabina’s hair, evidently taking her stunned silence for gratitude.

“Besides,” Bea continued, “the Master would want you to rest up first—he’s a good man, and a kind one, though you could torture him with pins before he’d admit to it. He would want no effort spared in getting you well. A few days to heal,” she said, her eyes briefly flicking over Sabina’s thin frame, “and you’ll be blushing and smiling like the new bride you are.”

Sabina decided to change the subject as quickly as possible. She took a bite of the honey cake, which was excellent, and said so. Bea glowed.

“Why, thank you, my lady. It is from my own recipe.”

Sabina fingered the sweet roll, and decided she needed to know more about her new husband before she saw him again. Ignorance never served a woman well.

“Bea, would you sit a moment and talk with me?”

“Sit?” Bea asked, as though the concept of resting in the middle of a workday had never occurred to her.

Sabina patted the bed beside her in invitation.

“Yes, I have some questions I would like answered. I am afraid Master Behaim and I have not had much of a chance to get acquainted.” She raised a shoulder in a gesture of helplessness. “You know how men are about such things. If I am to make a good wife to him, there are things I should know, would you not agree?” She crossed her fingers behind her back and prayed God would forgive her the lie. She gave Bea a pleading smile.

Bea eyed her skeptically.

“Well, truth be told,” Bea said finally, “it would be nice to get off my feet for a while. When the day starts at four in the morning, one gets little chance to sit down.” She moved over and settled down with a sigh. “What is it you’d like to know?”

Now that she had the opportunity, Sabina was unsure where to begin. She bit into a creamy wedge of cheese while she formed a response. “Master Behaim … how long has he been living in Wittenberg?”

“Since he was a boy. But he stays mostly in Nürnberg, his shops are there. He will take over the shop here as well, now Master Wolf’s father has passed on, God rest his weary soul.”

“His father died recently?” It would explain the somber clothes.

“Yes.” Bea sighed. “An awful tragedy, really. Almost four weeks ago, they found him in the driving rain, at the bottom of the White Cliffs. He must have slipped while walking and fallen to his death.”

“Oh, how terrible,” Sabina said in sympathetic shock. “Only four weeks ago? And yet, Master Behaim sought to marry so soon after,” she murmured, almost to herself.

“Yes, it is a miracle, indeed.” Bea watched her with sharp eyes. “What with everything in such confusion at the shops, and the Master determined to replace everything his father had—had to relinquish in the last few months to creditors, it is a wonder he decided to marry at such a time. He must have been truly taken with you, I warrant,” Bea said. “Which is why we must get you back to the pink of health as soon as possible.”

“How did Master Behaim inform his family we were to be wed?” Sabina asked, ignoring Bea’s probing gaze.

Bea tapped a finger to her chin. “Well, it was the strangest thing. Everyone said he would never be married again.” She spread her hands wide. “But then, Lord of Hosts, he announced this morning he was to be wed! He told only Franz and me before he rode off to retrieve you, none of his siblings. I assume he and your father came to an arrangement in advance …?”

“You mentioned his father had creditors?” Sabina asked, deflecting attention from the more sensitive subject, and the fact they had not met before today, of which Bea seemed unaware.

Bea frowned. “Hmm. Yes, well, the printing business is not as easy here as in Nürnberg these days. What with Hans Lufft getting most of Dr. Luther’s pamphlet business, there was little enough left over for my poor master. And then to have an accident at such a time … But I’ve heard Master Wolf intends to pursue Dr. Melanchthon at the University for a special commission. I am certain he’ll get it, too. When he puts his mind to it, he is a man who gets what he wants. Of course, his Nürnberg shops do well. They are his, you know,” she added proudly. “He owns four presses outright, and has a dozen skilled men working for him in two different shops.”

Sabina assumed this was quite an accomplishment from Bea’s attitude, and so she tried to look suitably impressed. “Well, my goodness. And yet,” she mused, “mightn’t his father have gone to Wolf for help if he was not faring well?”