Gabe didn’t like remembering his sister’s death. He’d been playing nearby when she’d fallen into the lake. Elsebeth had been splashing at the edge of the water, and he’d assumed she was enjoying herself on the bank. He hadn’t even noticed when the splashing stopped. The rest of the day was fuzzy; only bits and pieces stuck in his memory. He’d been very young, only six years old, but he recalled the heavy weight inside him, a feeling he now knew was guilt. At the time he’d felt as if he’d been bad, as if Elsebeth’s death was his fault. After all, he was her older brother. He should have watched out for her, protected her, saved her.
And he felt the same way now about Sophie. Sophie needed him. He was supposed to keep her from danger. He should have been wise enough and cautious enough not to get thrown into the dungeon. I’ve failed everyone.
He looked around at the bare, cold dungeon and imagined Sophie spending days and nights here. The unfairness of her being locked in this awful place made him burn to exact justice on her behalf, made him long to put his hands around the duchess’s neck and choke her. But here he was, completely helpless to rescue himself, much less Sophie.
The poor girl had been subjected to the horrors of living under the duchess’s thumb her whole life. He wanted to see her rescued from this place, living a happy life in freedom. God, don’t let me fail!
Would Valten appreciate her? Would he cherish her, understand what she’d been through? Gabe would make sure Valten treated her right.
If he got out of this alive.
Right now he wasn’t exactly in a position to make anyone do anything. Sophie might never meet any of Gabe’s family unless he escaped from this dungeon.
Gabe went over to the one window, which was at eye level, and took hold of the bars. He yanked and tugged, hoping to feel them give a little, but the bars didn’t budge. He tugged again. Same result.
One more time, God. He rubbed his hands together. He spit on them and rubbed again. He grabbed the bars, took a deep breath and — Give me the strength — pushed, then pulled, with all his might.
He wanted to believe he’d felt them give way just a tiny bit. But he couldn’t lie to himself. They hadn’t budged at all.
“The duchess threw Gabe in the dungeon!”
Sophie stared at Petra, who had just burst into the kitchen, her eyes big and round. Sophie sat down heavily on a stool near the stove.
She would have to save him. She needed Gabe to help her get to Valten, who may not believe she was his betrothed if she simply showed up at his castle declaring she was Duke Baldewin’s daughter. Besides, Gabe had done nothing worthy of death, and Sophie refused to allow the duchess to kill another innocent man. But she’d have to make her escape at the same time. If Sophie helped Gabe escape, the duchess would find out it was her and kill her. It was now or never. The only problem was how to steal the key to the dungeon.
Sophie stood and hurried toward the corridor — and almost ran face-first into Lorencz.
Something about the look on his face — sober and cool, his eyes vacant but intent — made the skin on the back of her neck tingle. She took a step back.
“Sophie. I need you to help me with something.” There was no sign of flirtation in his tone, and his face wore a blank expression.
“What?”
“There’s a dog, a puppy, trapped in the woods. I need you to help me rescue him.”
“Why don’t you rescue him?”
“Because I’m too big to crawl into the hole after him.”
“I don’t believe you.” Besides, she remembered the kiss the huntsman had forced on her, remembered what Darla had boasted about, and knew she’d be a fool to go with him.
The set of his jaw let her know he was angry. “Very well, then. The puppy can stay trapped and starve.” He turned to leave.
“Why don’t you ask Darla to help you?”
He practically sneered. “Jealous, are you?”
I don’t have time for this! “What is it you really want?”
“If you come with me, I will help Gabe escape from the dungeon.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Oh, would you?” Petra spoke up, clasping her hands and looking pleadingly at Lorencz. “I am afraid the duchess will kill the poor boy if you don’t help him.”
“Exactly. She will kill him. But I will let him out — if you come with me.”
“How do I know I can trust you?”
“Have I ever harmed you, little Sophie?” He raised his brows and held out his hand to her. She stared at it.
“When have you ever cared about a puppy?”
He took a deep breath, his chest slowly moving up, then down. He shrugged. “I admit, I don’t care that much. But I had promised the puppy to a child in the village who asked for a pet.”
“You don’t care about the village children.”
“How do you know that? I have a sister who lives in the village. She has three children, and her children have friends. Why would I not care? Will you help me or not? Gabe is in the dungeon, bleeding and in need of care, and you are wasting time.”
She ignored his hand and gave him a curt nod. He turned and headed out the door, and she followed him out of the castle and into the woods. She felt for her knife, always in her dress pocket, and clasped the handle.
Sophie felt more and more uneasy the farther they walked. She had finally decided to turn back when Lorencz stopped. They were at the clearing where they’d had their picnic.