“Tell me, Sophie.” She had avoided him and now refused to tell him why. He leaned forward and took her hand, wondering if she would pull away from him again.
But she didn’t offer any resistence. Her small hand fit perfectly in his, and she clasped her fingers around his. She faced him, searching his eyes, as if she was trying to read his thoughts.
“I was afraid of what you were about to tell me when we were interrupted yesterday.” She sat down on the stool beside his bed, then swallowed, her eyes still fastened to his face, still searching intently.
“But you’re not afraid now?” He spoke softly, as if she were a skittish foal he was trying not to spook.
“I’m just as afraid, if not more.” Her lips trembled as if she were trying to smile but was too nervous. “But I had to see you, to see how you were.” She took a shaky breath, as if her next words were difficult to say. “And now I am ready to hear what you have to say.”
Now he wasn’t sure he should say it. They had been through a lot together, but they had only known each other a few days. She probably wanted to forget him so she could have the life she deserved. After all, she would gain so much more by marrying Valten.
It would be for the best if they could forget about each other. If he and Sophie tried to break their betrothals, many people would be hurt, including Valten. And though he and Valten had often fought and been angry with each other, Gabe realized, maybe more than ever before, that he loved his brother and desired his respect.
But looking into her earnest face, feeling her hand clasped to his … he wasn’t sure he could ever let her go. Not if she felt the same way he did.
“I was about to say …” He swallowed, afraid of saying too much and afraid of saying too little. “My family is important to me, but you are very important to me too. Truthfully, I don’t know if I could bear to … I don’t want to let you go.”
He held her hand tight and gazed into her blue eyes, the light of the candles dancing inside them. Her lips were parted and her eyes were wide, almost childlike.
He loved his brother, but he couldn’t let Sophie marry Valten if she didn’t want to. Please say something, Sophie.
She whispered, “I know.” Bowing her head, she squeezed his hand with both of hers.
They were quiet for several moments. Gabe soaked up her presence and the fragile touch of her hands.
“Let me see your arm,” he said softly.
She let go of his hand, reluctantly it seemed, and slowly inched up her fitted sleeve to reveal the bandage that stretched from her wrist to her elbow. Sophie unwrapped it. He took her arm in his hands and leaned over to examine it closer to the light. The wound was starting to close up as it should, but it was important that it be properly cleaned and wrapped.
“I think Bartel needs to look at it.”
“What do I need to look at?” Bartel stood in the doorway, his arms hidden under the folds of his brown robe.
He let go of Sophie as Bartel drew nearer.
“Sophie was wounded by an arrow.”
“I know. I have been bandaging it every night.”
“Thank you.”
“She didn’t want me to stitch it closed, but it is healing.” Bartel began rewrapping her bandage and tied it snugly in place.
Gabe perceived by his expression that Bartel didn’t approve of Sophie being in his room. All the more reason for Gabe to get well so he didn’t have to stay cloistered. If it killed him, and even if he had to defy Bartel, he would go downstairs tomorrow instead of letting Bartel force him to stay in bed.
“How is Lord Gabe faring?” Sophie asked Bartel.
Her calling him “Lord Gabe” reminded him that they would have to conform again to society’s rules. The other people around them would dictate how they addressed each other, and every other behavior. And once again, everyone would say how irresponsible Gabe was.
“He is improving,” Bartel said. “But I do not want him leaving his bed until I’m sure the fever is gone and he is stronger. And then he isn’t to leave this house or do any work.”
“Of course,” Sophie mumbled.
“You may go now.”
“Of course, Herr Bartel.” Sophie dropped a quick curtsy and started to leave.
Gabe wanted to call her back, but with Bartel standing there, he simply said, “Good night, Sophie.”
“Good night, Gabe. Good night, Herr Bartel.”
As soon as Sophie finished making breakfast the next morning, Bartel appeared at her side. He quickly took the tray she prepared for Gabe. She had hoped to take him the food herself.
“Come upstairs when you finish breakfast so I can change your bandage,” he ordered before he left.
She hurried through the meal and left the seven men to clean up. Her thin shoes swished up the steps, and she had to pause at Gabe’s door to catch her breath, even though running up one flight of steps had never made her lose her breath before.
She knocked on the door and Gabe’s rich voice bid her come in.