The Fairest Beauty

Sophie hurried in, her heart pounding at seeing Gabe alone. “Guten Morgen. How are you feeling?”

 

 

“Much better,” he said, pushing himself into a sitting position. “Will you open the shutters to let some more light in?”

 

Sophie turned to the window, hoping she didn’t have any smudges of flour on her face and that her hair wasn’t falling down. She opened the shutters and a flash of movement at the edge of the trees caught her eye. A man stared straight back at her, his face partially covered by a thick beard. There was something about his eyes that sent a shiver through her, and Sophie gasped. The man turned and disappeared into the trees.

 

“What? What is it?” Gabe sat up straighter, pushing the blanket back.

 

“Nothing, nothing. I just need to go tell Dominyk something.” Hurrying out the door, she said quickly, “Stay in bed. I’ll be right back.”

 

Sophie closed the door behind her and raced down the steps. She ran into Dominyk coming out of the kitchen.

 

“I saw a man.”

 

“Where?”

 

“In the edge of the forest, behind the house. He was slender and had a thick brown beard. He saw me.”

 

“Stay in the house. We’ll deal with him.” Dominyk disappeared back into the kitchen.

 

Sophie hurried back up to Gabe’s chamber, her hands shaking a bit as she remembered the malevolent look in the prowler’s eyes. But she had to appear calm when she faced Gabe. She didn’t want him to know about the man. He would only be upset that he couldn’t go out and search for him.

 

Sophie slipped back into the room and smiled at him. A day’s worth of hair growth on his face and chin gave him back that rugged, masculine look, the one that had made her heart skip a few beats the first time she saw him unshaven. Her smile faltered, and she swallowed the rock in her throat.

 

“What happened? Did you see something outside?”

 

“I just had to tell Dominyk something. Now tell me how you are feeling this morning.” Her hand shook a bit as she passed the open window and bent to blow out a candle on the bedside table.

 

“I am much better now.” Gabe smiled at her, making her heart flutter. His sun-darkened skin was a nice contrast to his white teeth. His russet-brown hair waved across his forehead and his dark eyes fixed on hers, drawing her closer.

 

“You’re beautiful, Sophie. I suppose you’ve heard that all your life.”

 

The duchess had always told her she was ugly. Sophie had always struggled to not believe the duchess, especially after her hair had been cut off a few years ago.

 

“Not everyone says I’m beautiful.”

 

“The duchess? She doesn’t count.”

 

He had read her mind. Or maybe he just knew her, knew her better than anyone ever could without seeing where she’d come from and knowing her mistress … or, rather, her stepmother. How could anyone really know Sophie without knowing what the duchess had done to her? But Gabe knew. He knew everything and still cared about her.

 

She rewarded him with a bigger smile. For now she would push back the worry. She simply wanted to enjoy whatever time she had with him and pretend she had all the time in the world to enjoy his company, his conversation … to enjoy looking at him.

 

“Have you come to get your bandage changed?”

 

She nodded, taking the tray from his lap and setting it on the table.

 

The door opened and Bartel walked in. Gabe looked on as the monk repeated what he had done the night before, wrapping her arm tightly with a clean, new bandage.

 

Bartel, who rarely ever looked her in the eye and never for more than a moment, looked at the floor and said, “I will change Gabe’s bandage now,” as if to dismiss her.

 

“Oh, good.” Sophie tried to sound innocent. “I would like to see his wound to know how well it is healing.”

 

Bartel looked at her with a suspicious glint in his eye. Sophie smiled at him. He finally turned away from her, a disgruntled look on his face, as he focused on Gabe.

 

He opened Gabe’s shirt down the front and pushed the material off his shoulder.

 

Her face grew warm and she wondered if this had been a bad idea. But when Bartel took off Gabe’s bandage, exposing the raw, open wound, she stepped closer and cringed.

 

“Does it look all right? Is it healing the way it’s supposed to?”

 

Bartel didn’t pause or look back at her as he studied the wound and then started applying a green paste to it. “Yes.”

 

She waited for him to say more, but he didn’t.

 

Bartel rewrapped the bandage around Gabe’s shoulder. “He needs to rest now,” Bartel said.

 

She nodded and hurried out the door.

 

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