However displeased Mathilde might be, and however concerned Kristal felt about the old woman’s veiled threats, when she awoke the following day to a perfect, summer morning, Kristal was determined not to miss her ride.
Johann had taken to saddling up Gretel as well as Schwarzi, but as she had overslept the previous morning and therefore not ridden the saddled mare, it came as no surprise to Kristal to find Johann entering the kitchen when she went down.
“Mathilde asked me to check that you were riding this morning. It’s not fair to Gretel to get her all excited and ready to go,” he mimicked the old woman.
Kristal laughed at his impression.
“Heavens, I didn’t know she cared about the horses—I’ve never seen her around the stables.”
“She doesn’t often come down, it’s true, but I gather when she was young she was quite a horsewoman—so good, in fact, that she won dozens of prizes in the show-jumping ring. It’s said she fell off one day, due to some careless stable hand, and never rode again.”
Kristal absorbed these words with some surprise.
“Anyway, since you obviously are riding, I’ll get Gretel saddled up.”
With which he returned to the stables and she poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Waiting for me?” a deep, pleasant voice said behind her.
“No, actually, I’m finishing my coffee,” she told Rudi, and explained what had happened.
“She’s certainly unpredictable,” he declared of Mathilde. “Come on, let’s go. They’ll be champing at the bit.”
Johann was leading the horses around the stable-yard when they arrived. They collected their helmets, took over the mounts and were off.
As usual, they set off at a gentle trot, enjoying the early-morning breeze on their faces as they followed the bridle path to the woods. Once inside the woods, they contained the horses’ energy as they headed for the long, straight ride some distance ahead. The path was wide enough at this point for them to travel side by side, and Kristal always enjoyed this part of the ride, when Rudi was disposed to talk to her without rancour, as if the very freshness of morning cleared away dark thoughts, giving way to a friendlier, more relaxed persona.
At last they reached the long, straight ride.
“I’ll race you to the end.” He laughed.
“You’re on!” she shouted back, and gave Gretel her head.
At first she was in front but, before they had reached halfway, Schwarzi thundered past them. At the same moment, Kristal became aware that all was not well. Her saddle, unbelievably, was loose. She tried to rein in Gretel, but the mare was intent on catching up with Schwarzi.
Kristal screamed as the entire harness slipped and she lost the battle to stay on. Her cry brought Rudi up short. He looked back, and then turned his horse and galloped back to where she lay, leaving Gretel, who was now slowing down, to her own devices. For an instant, he towered above her figure lying motionless on the ground, then leaped down beside her.
“Kristal!” he breathed hoarsely. “Speak to me, liebchen. Kristal!”
The breath had been knocked out of her body and she ached all over. She forced heavy eyelids open.
“Rudi,” she murmured, squeezing her eyes shut as tears welled up.
“Are you all right, sweetheart? Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere,” she replied.
“I’ll kill him!” he seethed under his breath.
With amazing gentleness, he ran his hands over her limbs, establishing that nothing was, in fact, broken.
“We’re not far from the lodge,” he told her. “If you can’t bear the thought of getting on Schwarzi in front of me, I can go and fetch a car from there, only I don’t really want to leave you here alone.”
He lifted her to a sitting position, holding her in his arms.
“I’ll get on Schwarzi,” she decided, nestling into his cradling arms and resting her aching head on his broad, reassuring chest.
The sound of other hooves shattered the silence of the woods, and a rider came into view. A very flustered Johann slid down from his horse. Rudi gently but swiftly released her, then snatched up his riding crop and struck his erstwhile friend a blow across the shoulders, shouting with an anger Kristal would not have thought possible.
“For goodness’ sake, let me tell you what happened!” Johann yelled. “You don’t think I’d let a horse leave the stables like that, do you?”
“What do you mean?” Rudi demanded.
“It was that old witch, Mathilde. She came to the stables this morning. It’s the first time in years. She pretended to be concerned about Gretel being saddled up yesterday, and not getting a ride. Anyway, she sent me to the house to make sure Kristal was going to ride her. That’s when she must have done it.”
“Done what?” Rudi demanded hoarsely.
“After you had gone, I found a pair of shears in the hay where Gretel had been tethered. They’re always hanging securely in their proper place on the wall. Only Mathilde had been there since I oiled and replaced the tools last night. It was only a suspicion, but I came after you, to make sure you were all right, hoping I was wrong.”
“The bloody woman’s gone mad!” Rudi’s attention returned to Kristal, while Johann went over and retrieved the mare’s harness. Tears were running freely down Kristal’s face now. How could anyone hate her so much?
“Don’t cry, liebchen,” he begged.
“As I feared,” Johann said. “See, it’s been cut almost right through. The rest would have torn with the stress of the gallop.”
“As Mathilde must have intended. Look, I’ll stay here with Kristal while you fetch the car from the lodge, Johann. Tell Meggi to prepare the room next to mine. I’m sorry about—” He gestured towards his discarded riding-crop.
“Forget it. I’d have done the same. I think we shall both need the doctor,” he joked to Kristal, rubbing his shoulder.
When they arrived at the lodge after a comparatively smooth ride, but one which reminded her of every little bruise, Rudi carried Kristal up the stairs, while Meggi fussed around like a mother hen.
“The bed’s all made up and I’ve switched on the blanket. She’ll be cold, poor mite. Dr Seigal will be here soon.”
Kristal found herself laid gently on a large four-poster of dark, carved wood. It matched the other heavy pieces of furniture. The room was lightened, however, by pale walls and carpet, and by the palest pink curtains hanging at the windows and round the bed, matching the plump, feather-filled duvet.
“This was my mother’s room,” he told her.
“It’s lovely,” she told him wearily, unable to keep her eyes open.
“I think you should try to stay awake, my love,” he advised her. “At least till Dr Seigal arrives.”
He left to allow Meggi to help Kristal out of her clothes, but then returned to stay with her, berating himself for not taking greater care of her.
“Something will have to be done about Mathilde,” he said absently.
“She really hates me,” she mumbled, tears flowing anew.
“Don’t,” he begged, taking her fully into his arms, letting her cry into his tweed-covered shoulder.
He was still holding her when Dr Seigal walked in. The doctor was about Rudi’s age, with clever, grey eyes behind rimless glasses.
“Ah, you got here at last, Wolfgang,” Rudi said jokingly.
“I’ll come by rocket next time. Wait outside, Rudi, and send Meggi in.”
He examined Kristal minutely for any sign of injury. Nothing, she thought, could escape his careful scrutiny.
“You’re a lucky girl,” he told her at last. “You’ll ache all over for several days. You have extensive bruising. You could have suffered a lot worse. Stay in bed till you feel like getting up. I’ll leave some tablets for the pain. Thank you, Meggi. You can let him in now—he’ll be champing at the bit.”
“Well?” Rudi demanded impatiently, when Meggi opened the door. Dr Seigal repeated what he had told Kristal.
“Rest is what the girl needs, together with some of Meggi’s excellent home cooking. She’ll be right as rain in no time. Look after her.”
“I intend to,” Rudi replied huskily.
It was Rudi who brought her up a light lunch of home-made soup, cheese and fruit.
“Johann has gone back for your clothes. Gabi can pack what you need.”
“I’m sorry to be such a burden,” she apologised, knowing he was a busy man, with little time to spare for anything but work.
“I hardly think you should be apologising. I’m surprised you’re not screaming for a lawyer!”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
He was looking at her strangely. “No, I didn’t really think you would.”
That afternoon, Kristal fell into a deep, restorative sleep. Several times she drifted upwards through layers of slumber, aware of a solid, comforting presence and lean, but gentle, hands that stroked her brow and the line of her cheek, of a deep voice murmuring words to soothe her troubled mind.
She woke to find his arms about her.
“Can I get you anything?” he enquired.
“A cup of tea would be wonderful. And a painkiller? I’ve got a dreadful headache.”
“Of course. Meggi’s gone to her sister’s,” he told her then. “Her sister’s just come out of hospital. She didn’t want to go, but I assured her I was quite capable of looking after you. If you had been badly injured, Wolfgang would have whisked you off to hospital right away, as I told her.”
“B-but what about your work? You ought to be at the bank now, surely?”
“It means Andreas and others will just have to work a bit harder, that’s all. He’ll have less time for more personal pursuits that sometimes tempt him from the office,” he told her drily.
“Did Johann bring my things?”
“He did. Gabi wanted to come along, but Wolfgang insisted you were to be kept quiet—I don’t think Gabi’s brand of gaiety fits in with his prescription.”
“It was kind of her, though.”
“She doesn’t know exactly what happened,” he told her carefully. “Merely that you fell off a horse.”
“A-and Mathilde?”
“I’ll deal with her in my own good time. No-one has been told how badly, or otherwise, you’ve been injured.”
The tea Rudi brought was deliciously refreshing, though she couldn’t touch the pastries Meggi had made.
“I’d love a bath right now,” she thought, as he removed her cup, not realizing she had spoken the words aloud.
“I’ll run one,” he replied, and promptly disappeared through the door to the adjacent bathroom.
She listened to hot water gushing into the bath, and smelled the fragrant steam that wafted back to her, from the oils he must have added. The water stopped running and Rudi reappeared.
“Can you manage?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you,” she assured him quickly.
“I’ll leave you now,” he told her, “but don’t try to be heroic—if you can’t manage, I’ll be right back. I’ll even close my eyes, if you like.”
She returned his smile gratefully and, when he had gone, slipped off her remaining clothes, crept slowly into the bathroom and lowered herself gingerly into the vast, porcelain bath, not feeling at all brave, but determined to manage.
The warm water soothed away some of her aches, but it was difficult to get comfortable. Some of the worst bruises were where she sat down and she moved gingerly from side to side, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt. After soaping herself, she decided to be really ambitious and wash her mud-caked hair, managing the task quite well.
She got out of the bath and wrapped a voluminous towel round herself. She walked slowly back into the bedroom and pulled on a pale-blue, satin nightdress. Then she called Rudi.
He was there almost immediately.
“All done?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied and hobbled painfully to the bed and climbed in.
“I brought some books up while you were in the bath,” he said. “I’ll go down and start supper while you see if there’s anything there that takes your fancy.”
The choice of reading surprised her. There were some modern German novels and a book of poetry; there were several recent bestsellers by English and American authors. There was also a book on Austrian history, with as many illustrations as there was reading matter. On further investigation, it proved to be a history textbook for children.
She looked for the author’s name: R. W. G. von Steinberg, in other words, Rodolfo Wolfgang Gustav von Steinberg. It was written by Rudi himself.
Although it was in German it was still quite easy to read, since it was written in simple, straightforward language intended for children. She had soon laid aside the other books, as the history book caught her attention.
History had never been like this at school, she thought, as she read on, almost annoyed when Rudi interrupted, appearing with a nourishing, casseroled stew and an apricot flan, that looked absolutely delicious.
“I can’t allow you to eat alone,” he told her. “I brought mine up, too, to ensure you don’t just pick at your food.”
“I won’t do that, anyway,” she assured him. “I’m starving! I’ve been waiting approximately three hundred years for this meal!”
He shot her a glance that suggested she had gone crazy, then noticed the book in her hand. He laughed.
“I see! Are you interested in history?”
I would have been if our history books had been this interesting!”
“I’m flattered. I think history should always be presented in an interesting way to children. Otherwise they’re lost from the start. Put it down now and take this tray. You must eat everything on it, as I prepared it myself.”
“Jawohi, Herr Ober!” she joked.
He really was a man of surprises and, as she looked across at him, his handsome features highlighted by the glow of soft lamps, she thought she had never loved him more.