The men were going their separate ways and Sophie lost sight of Gabe. Would she see him again before she went to her room? Nervously, she gathered up her mending, put it away, and hurried upstairs. Bartel was right behind her. She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that he would prevent her from having a private word with Gabe.
When she reached the top of the stairs, Gabe was coming out of his chamber. His eyes met hers in the dark corridor, then he saw Bartel over her shoulder. He stepped forward and took Sophie’s hand. He kissed it reverently, his eyes closed. He held on as she moved past him, his fingers caressing hers as long as possible.
“Good night, Gabe.”
“Good night, Sophie.”
Gabe squatted next to Dolf as they pulled weeds from the large vegetable and herb garden behind the cottage while Sophie cooked in the kitchen. Every now and then he couldn’t resist looking through the window to catch glimpses of Sophie. Sometimes she was sneaking looks at him too.
Bartel stalked up to him. “You shouldn’t be working at this.”
Dolf continued to work, glancing up at Bartel, while Gabe stood. “I’m only using my right hand.”
“You’ve done enough for today. You must rest and get well.” He started walking toward the tiny chapel a few feet away before saying over his shoulder, “You can come with me. I have some easier work for you.”
Gabe looked down at Dolf, pointed to his wounded shoulder, frowned, and pointed over his shoulder at Bartel, rolling his eyes to the sky.
Dolf chuckled, then shooed Gabe away, nodding and smiling.
Gabe followed the monk.
Inside the stone chapel, an altar glowed with several lit candles in front of a picture of Mary and baby Jesus. Both men looked up at the portrait of Jesus on the cross on the wall behind the altar and genuflected, crossing themselves and bowing to say a quick prayer.
“I am trimming candlewicks,” Bartel pointed to two large spools of string. He sat on the hard floor, folding his legs and malformed feet underneath him before covering them with the hem of his robe.
Gabe sat in front of him and watched as Bartel measured a length of string about two feet long, then cut the piece from the spool. Gabe did the same thing with the other spool. In a few minutes, they each had a stack of wicks by their sides.
“We’ve all become quite fond of Sophie, as you can see. Walther said she is rumored to be the daughter of Duke Baldewin, alive and well. Is this true?”
Gabe shifted slightly. What was Bartel aiming at? “That’s true. Sophie didn’t even know she was the duke’s daughter until a few days ago, when I arrived to rescue her.”
“I must thank you for your heroics in saving her. Though the men and I have been wondering what your intentions are toward Sophie. A few of us recall hearing, years ago, that as a baby, Sophie was betrothed to a duke’s son — Duke Wilhelm’s oldest son, Valten.” Bartel didn’t look at Gabe as he spoke, but his voice was unyielding and purposeful. “Are you her betrothed?”
Gabe’s face flooded with heat. “No, I’m not. But I intend to find a way to marry her.”
Bartel sat stone-faced, cutting wick after wick. Finally, without looking up from his task, he said, “Betrothals are legally binding. Her betrothed may not like you trifling with his future wife.”
“I am not trifling with her.” Gabe wanted to tell Bartel it was none of his business. He wanted to argue that she belonged to him because he had risked his life for her, taken an arrow for her. He was the one who loved her. Valten didn’t love her, could never love her the way he did.
But he stopped himself. He had to handle this responsibly.
“I never intended to fall in love with Sophie.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “She is betrothed to my brother Valten, the future duke of Hagenheim.”
Saying the words aloud seemed to have a dampening effect on Gabe’s spirits. When he looked at the facts, they were stark indeed.
“I even tried not to fall in love with Sophie.” He squeezed his eyes shut. Please help me, God. “But I believe it was God’s will that I be the one to rescue her from Duchess Ermengard. Valten had broken his leg and was unable to go to her when we found out she was still alive. If I hadn’t gone when I did, Sophie might be dead now.”
Truthfully, he thought his presence at Hohendorf had probably hastened the duchess’s deciding to kill her. But hadn’t he felt a supernatural urgency to go and rescue her? He’d sensed the danger she was in and had felt compelled to go and save her. Perhaps she would be dead now if it hadn’t been for Gabe.
“If God had wanted Valten to rescue her, would he have allowed Valten to break his leg?” Gabe asked, turning to face Bartel. “It was God’s will. He knew Sophie and I would fall in love, that we were meant to be together.”
“If God intended you two to be together, then why did he allow her to be betrothed to your brother?” Bartel fixed a hard eye on Gabe.
“Maybe God wanted to show his power by making a way for us to now break our betrothals.”
“Betrothals? You mean you are also betrothed?”
Gabe winced. It sounded bad when Bartel said it in such a shocked and appalled tone.