Petra. She had come after the first duchess had died but before the duke had passed away — almost sixteen years ago. When Sophie was younger, Petra would sometimes tell her stories of the duke and how much he had loved his little daughter.
Oh. The hair on the back of her neck seemed to stand on end. “Petra would know.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She cleared her throat. “But why do you care?”
“Because if you are Duke Baldewin’s daughter, you are betrothed.”
“Betrothed?”
“To my brother Valten Gerstenberg, the Earl of Hamlin, who will someday be the Duke of Hagenheim.”
Sophie felt as if the world had gone quite still.
“Duke Baldewin and my parents were friends, and they arranged the marriage when Duke Baldewin’s daughter was only a baby. After the duke remarried, the duke and the new duchess only met once with my parents, and that was to sign the betrothal agreement. My brother was only six years old, but he remembers.”
Sophie watched the stranger’s mouth as he spoke, as if seeing the words forming on his lips as well as hearing them would help her make sense of everything he said. Was she Duke Baldewin’s daughter? Was she betrothed? It was too strange to comprehend.
“If I am to marry your brother, why are you here? Why didn’t he come to take me away from the duchess?” The thought — that she belonged to someone who would care for her and save her from the duchess — was so beguiling that it frightened her. Such things didn’t happen, and if she started to believe in them, her disappointment would crush her.
“My brother wanted to come as soon as he heard you might be alive. But he broke his leg in a tournament less than a week before.”
“So he sent you. Alone.”
“Well, he didn’t send me.” Gabe rubbed his chin and shifted his feet, a wry half smile on his face. “My brother and father wanted me to wait until they could come with me, but I came without their permission.”
“Why?”
“Pinnosa said you were in danger.” He bent to pick up a stick and appeared to be examining it, turning it between his fingers. “I didn’t want anything to happen to you while my brother’s leg healed.”
Again, she wondered if he was telling the truth. But if it was all a lie, why wouldn’t he simply say that he was her betrothed? If he wanted to take advantage of her, why make up the story about his brother? They stood with nothing to break the silence except a bird cawing in the distance and the occasional muffled banging of a pot in the kitchen nearby. Finally Sophie turned and began dipping candles again. Her thoughts echoed around in her head, confusing her.
“I’ve only known you an hour and already you’ve lied repeatedly. Why should I believe you?”
He let out an exasperated breath behind her. He was angry. Good. Maybe he would let the truth slip from his lying lips.
“I don’t even know if you are the duke’s daughter. If you are, then I’m here to help you. If you don’t believe me …” He let his voice trail off.
“If I did believe you — which would be the height of foolishness — can you explain how you plan to get away from the duchess without her killing us both?” The awful truth was Sophie desperately wanted to believe him. To be wanted, to belong to someone, to be betrothed … it filled her chest with the most delightful warmth and light.
And to be proven a fool will only lead to coldness and pain.
She hung another candle on the line. Gabe grabbed her hand and stood in front of her, compelling her to look into his eyes. She took a step back.
“Take me to this servant, Petra. We will ask her together if you are Duke Baldewin’s daughter.”
She closed her mouth and tried to veil her expression so he wouldn’t know how his words filled her with hope and joy, how the thought that he believed it was possible she wasn’t simply a poor servant encouraged her. To show emotion was to become vulnerable. And Sophie should never allow herself to become vulnerable to anyone who had the power to hurt her.
She was almost afraid to ask Petra, to find out the truth. After all, would Gabe’s brother still want her after he saw how untaught she was in the ways and manners of noble society? When he saw that she had no idea how to behave like a proper duchess? When he realized she was awkward and clumsy, as the duchess was always telling her, that she was ugly and too wicked for anybody to ever care for?
But Petra told her she shouldn’t believe any of those things the duchess said about her.
And if Petra told her she wasn’t the duke’s daughter …
The crackle of breaking twigs drew Sophie’s gaze to the forest at the edge of the courtyard. Lorencz emerged from the shadow of the trees. Another man I know better than to trust. His eyes were focused on Sophie and Gabe as he strode toward them. He stopped and stared, then called out a cautiously friendly, “Ho, there.”
Gabe nodded, meeting Lorencz’s stare. “Guten Morgen.”
The scar above the huntsman’s cheek seemed to stand out. The two stared at each other until Sophie broke the silence.