Chapter Two

THE VALET’S SISTER

Erich drifted to sleep after a typically exhausting day of meetings spent arguing with dignitaries from bordering countries, followed by socials where they interacted as if they were the best of friends. He had a vague awareness that he was dreaming as he found himself wandering through long castle hallways that felt eerily silent and empty. His most prominent feeling was that he needed to find Dulsie, but even in the dream he recognized that he knew Dulsie was safer than anyone else and he envied her being able to leave. He continued wandering the castle halls, aware now that he was searching for members of his family, but he couldn’t find any of them. He began to feel panicked. Something was wrong. Then he turned a corner and came face-to-face with Nikolaus Koenig, a specter come back to haunt him from his past. Erich knew that his own life was in danger from Nik’s presence, and he still felt a distinct panic over the absence of his loved ones. With no warning, Nik pointed a pistol at Erich and pulled the trigger without hesitation. Erich was thrown backward by the force of the shot and came awake gasping, as if he were truly on the brink of death.

It took minutes for Erich to steady his breathing, and nearly an hour for his heart to return to its normal beat. But morning came and Erich could not convince himself that what he’d dreamed was not some kind of premonition that refused to be left unacknowledged. Nik Koenig had not done anything for years that had implied any threat to Erich or his family members, but a sickness smoldering in Erich led him to believe that their peaceful reprieve was coming to an end. Still, what could he do about it? He considered telling someone about his dream, but he couldn’t see any positive outcome to that. It would only upset others, and he preferred to keep it to himself.

Forcing thoughts of the dream away with distractions of daily life, Erich prayed that he would not have any more such nightmares, and that perhaps it was indeed only a dream. Within a few days he could almost go an hour without recalling the dream and its eeriness, and he chose to let those around him only see the lesser but still taxing issues in his life—most especially the fact that he was still single and perhaps doomed to stay that way.

“I heard that people are gossiping about me,” Erich declared wryly as Theodor helped him into his coat. Han relaxed and looked through a newspaper nearby, and Stefan sat alongside his father, reading from a picture book.

“Is this meant to be surprising?” Han asked and turned the page.

Erich chuckled and went on. “Dulsie wrote and told me that her mother had been told by their maid, who had heard it from one of the kitchen maids in the castle, who got the news from the miller who delivers grain to the kitchen, who had heard it from his daughter, who is friends with the tailor’s son, who—”

“We get the idea.” Han tipped down his paper to scowl at Erich, who laughed, which made Theodor laugh as well. Han furrowed his brow and added, “And Dulsie, who lives in another country, is telling you about local gossip.”

“That’s how it works,” Erich said.

“How is Dulsie, by the way?” Han asked, going back to his reading.

“Very well, I’m happy to say,” Erich said, so glad to be able to say that and mean it. Knowing that she was doing well greatly compensated for her absence. In a way, their friendship had become better through their exchange of letters than it had been in many years, mostly because she was happy and felt emotionally safe.

“What exactly is this gossip that you heard?” Theodor asked as he meticulously brushed any trace of lint from Erich’s shoulders.

Erich changed his voice to mimic a woman gossiping. “Prince Erich is now in his thirties and his sister is expecting her fourth child.” He changed his tone to imitate a different voice. “What do you suppose is wrong with the boy that he can’t settle down and have an heir?” He changed his tone again. “Do you suppose he doesn’t take his responsibilities seriously? Do you suppose Horstberg will survive his frivolousness?”

“As my wife would say,” Han muttered without moving the newspaper, “it’s all a lot of baggage. Let them talk. You’ll find someone.”

“Not if you don’t start looking,” Theodor said, and Erich glared at him. “Sir,” he added quickly and with a smirk.

“I gave up on it long ago,” Erich said. “I had enough of it years back—being paraded around in front of women. If the dear Lord wishes for me to marry, He’s going to have to send the right woman my way.”

“Do you suppose the Baron Von Bindorf has the right woman for you?” Han asked, setting the paper aside.

Erich snorted a noise of disgust. “That family has been trying to pawn one of their daughters on this family for decades. And there is a reason we are barely on speaking terms with them. I will die a bachelor before I would marry one of those wretched girls. They are too much like their father.”

“They’re very beautiful.”

“And that’s all,” Erich said. “I wouldn’t trust them with my laundry.”

“I think I liked it better when we were not on speaking terms with them,” Han said with exaggerated dismay. “But international relations must be attended to.”

“Papa?” Stefan asked, leaning against his father’s chair, his demeanor bored.

“Yes, son.”

“Will Uncle Erich ever be ready to go? Grandpapa is waiting for us. And I’m—”

“Hungry,” Han laughed. “Yes, I know.”

The child grinned sheepishly, and Theodor said directly to him, “I’ll have him fixed up in just another minute.”

“Theodor?” Stefan asked methodically.

“Yes?”

“Will you bring Karl to the castle with you tomorrow? Papa said it would be all right.”

“I think Karl would be delighted. It’s been some time since the two of you have had a chance to play, hasn’t it.”

“I have a new horse he can ride,” Stefan said proudly. “Uncle Erich?”

“Yes?”

“Can Karl and I go riding with you tomorrow?”

“I can think of nothing more delightful,” Erich said.

“I can,” Theodor inserted.

“Oh, no,” Han said, “here we go again.”

“Let’s have it,” Erich said with light sarcasm.

“Have what?” Theodor asked innocently, but his expression betrayed humor.

“Come on,” Han said. “Get it over with. Tell him he should meet your sister. They’d be perfect for each other and all that stuff. Then he can give you his regal speech about women that he’s already given once today.” Han stood up and took young Stefan by the hand. “If you’re going to start that, I’m leaving.”

“Are we going to the banquet now?” Stefan asked as his father led him from the room. Erich found it quaint that Stefan preferred to attend a banquet with visiting dignitaries as opposed to playing outside with the other children, all of whom loathed the idea of a formal banquet.

“We most certainly are,” Han said and left Erich alone to pull on his boots.

“You could at least consider it,” Theodor said in a teasing tone.

“I’d consider almost anything to stop your nagging.” Erich chuckled. “By the way, just how old is this sister of yours now?”

“Twenty-one,” he stated.

Erich stopped for a moment, genuinely surprised. “I was still imagining a child.” He laughed. “Is she pretty?”

“Beautiful,” Theodor said.

“Now, why should I believe that you would have a beautiful sister?” Erich asked.

“You don’t have to take my word for it,” Theodor said with a laugh. “Come to dinner and decide for yourself.”

“I’ll think about it,” Erich said, rushing toward the door. “Like I told you, I’d do nearly anything to stop your nagging.”

A week later, Erich finally consented to meet Theodor Lokberg’s sister, but he made him swear not to tell Han or he’d never live it down. He reminded Theodor that he was determined to follow his parents’ example. He would marry for love, first and foremost, but she also needed to be capable of holding the position of the next Duchess of Horstberg. He wasn’t necessarily optimistic about finding a woman who could fulfill his expectations—whether it was Theodor Lokberg’s sister or anyone else.

As Erich contemplated the situation privately, he felt certain this would come to nothing. He couldn’t count the times he’d endured dinner with people who had believed that a daughter or sister or friend would surely win his heart. As of yet, no woman had even turned his head. And Theodor Lokberg was a stout, balding man, whose charm was in his personality. He was faithful as a valet and he’d become a good friend, but Erich could hardly comprehend him having a sister who might catch his attention. Not that Erich was concerned entirely with a woman’s appearance, but it didn’t hurt. All he remembered of Theodor’s sister was a gangling girl with stringy hair. Nevertheless, Erich consented to go to Theodor’s home in the valley for dinner, if only to get it over with. He’d heard about this sister since she was twelve.

Kathe was furious. “How could you?”

“It’s just dinner,” Theodor retorted.

“You will not make me believe you invited him to dinner so the two of you could have a friendly chat. You’ve been teasing me for years about marrying him, and I won’t be pushed on some stodgy prince just for the sake of your pride.”

“My pride?”

“Yes, your pride. You’d love to have your sister marry into that family. It would be so . . . prestigious for you.”

“I want nothing but what is best for you. You are the most stubborn little—”

“I learned it from you.”

“Erich du Woernig is a nice man. Prince or not, he’s just a man. I know him. I know you. I think you’d like each other. Having dinner with him is not going to kill you. After tonight I will do or say nothing more. If fate doesn’t take over, fine.”

Kathe looked at him sharply to see if he meant it. “Do you promise?”

“Of course,” he chuckled. “I only want the best for you, Kathe. You know that.”

“But what on earth will I prepare for dinner? I don’t know what to feed a prince. And what will I wear? This is insane.”

“Believe it or not,” he said, “pomp and grandeur mean little to him. Except for certain formal occasions, he rarely dresses differently than any other man, and no matter what you cook, it will be appreciated. You are a marvelous cook.”

“You’re flattering me.” But she couldn’t help smiling.

Theodor pointed a finger at her. “And don’t you dare embarrass me, little sister, or you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll certainly try not to embarrass you.”

“Good enough.” Theodor put his arm around her and laughed.

Once Theodor had given her the bad news and hurried back to work, Kathe sat alone in the kitchen for nearly an hour, trying to figure out something worthy of feeding to a prince. While she planned and prepared for their royal visitor, she couldn’t help recalling the one time she’d seen him in the market square—and the effect he’d had on her. She reminded herself that he was a prince, and surely every young woman in Horstberg had fantasies about catching his attention. She felt unnerved by her emotional involvement in this escapade—even though she would never admit to it aloud. And while she wished at moments that Theodor had not put her up to this, she couldn’t help feeling some anticipation.

In spite of frequent bursts of butterflies somewhere in her middle, Kathe was pleased to have everything under control ten minutes before Erich du Woernig was due to arrive. Her father and Theodor were in the parlor visiting. Little Karl had been threatened into behaving himself. The table was set. Dinner was all but ready to put out. And Kathe felt as presentable as she would get. An hour later their guest still hadn’t come.

“This is ridiculous,” Kathe insisted. “Come along, Karl.” She took the boy’s hand. “We’re going to eat. I’m not holding dinner another minute—prince or not.”

“This isn’t like him,” Theodor said, following Kathe to the dining room. “He’s dependable, I tell you. Something important must have come up.”

“Obviously,” Kathe retorted, dishing up a plate for Little Karl while her father helped himself and silently observed. “He’s probably too arrogant to really want to have dinner with people like us. I hope he chokes on whatever he does eat for dinner.”

“From what I’ve seen,” their father interjected, “young Erich is a good man. I’m certain he’ll come.”

Kathe made a disagreeable noise and sat down to eat. A minute later there was a knock at the door. Theodor went to answer it while Kathe attempted to calm herself and see that everything was in order. But he returned with only a message, which he read aloud.

“‘Erich sends his regrets. It couldn’t be helped. He’ll talk to you in the morning.’ It’s signed by Han. That’s his brother-in-law,” he explained.

Kathe gave her brother a look that said, I told you so, and they ate in miserable silence.

The following morning, Theodor went to Erich’s room early. There were no appointments to be met, but he felt impatient to know what had been so important as to put him in the embarrassing position he’d endured last night with his sister. He entered quietly because it appeared that Erich was still sleeping, but he’d barely closed the door when Erich’s voice startled him. “Don’t tell me it’s morning already.”

“It’s early yet,” Theodor said, unable to help the terse tone. “There’s no good reason to get up.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Erich snarled. He was obviously in a foul mood. While Theodor was contemplating an answer, he added, “You’re probably here to beat the devil out of me for missing dinner last night.”

“Since you mentioned it,” Theodor said, “you certainly put me in the doghouse with my sister.”

“Ooh,” Erich said, “she must be spunky.”

“Quite.”

Nothing more was said while Theodor pulled back the drapes and straightened up the room. But he was taken off guard to find blood in the basin, an open jar of salve, some gauze bandaging, and several bloodied rags.

“Good heavens, what did you do to yourself?” Theodor asked.

“I was trying to forget about it,” Erich said. “And now you had to bring it up again. Damn thing kept me awake all night, although it doesn’t hurt quite as badly as being shot.”

Erich explained the whole thing to Theodor while the valet helped him replace the bandage around his hand. Then Erich went back to bed and managed to sleep for a couple of hours, while Theodor did some mending and polished Erich’s boots. It was midday before Erich finally got out of bed and got cleaned up, in spite of Theodor’s protests.

“Maybe you should just rest.”

“I have one thing to take care of,” Erich said and left the room.

Once Erich got outside, he felt better. Most of the pain in his hand had subsided, and what little sleep he’d gotten was holding him so far. He just hoped he could get Theodor out of the doghouse.

Kathe looked up from her weeding when she heard a horse coming down the long drive. The animal halted between the garden and the stable, and she shifted her position to see who it might be. She nearly cursed her heart for the way it quickened when the high sun glanced off a head of red curls as the rider dismounted and tethered the horse. He glanced around casually, and she quickly turned back to her work before he saw her.

“Hello,” he said.

Kathe barely glanced toward him for a second, only long enough to see that he was dressed in a casual white shirt and dark slender breeches. He wore an average looking waistcoat that was left unbuttoned.

“Hello,” she said, focusing intently on her work. “May I help you?” she asked, wondering what on earth he would be doing here.

“I’m looking for Kathe Lokberg,” he said, taking a step toward her.

“That’s me,” she replied without turning.

Erich couldn’t deny the intrigue that filtered through him as he absorbed the silky, dark braid hanging down her slender back. He watched her as she lithely came to her feet and brushed the dirt from her calico dress. She finally turned toward him and pulled off her straw hat, saying in a fluid voice, “And you are?”

“Erich du Woernig.” Their eyes met and any further introduction stuck in his throat and left him breathless as he absorbed this dark-haired beauty. Surely this wasn’t Theodor Lokberg’s sister.

Kathe nodded toward him. This is no prince, she thought. He dressed and behaved far too normally. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. du Woernig,” she said, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of believing she had known who he was.

Erich chuckled, and she noticed the deep dimples in his cheeks and a prominent sparkle in his eyes. “Is something funny?” she asked.

“No one calls me Mr. du Woernig.”

“I’m sorry,” she retorted tersely. “You must forgive my ignorance. I’m not well versed in royal etiquette.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s actually quite refreshing.”

Their eyes met again, and Erich wondered if this was how his father had felt when he’d first seen Abbi Albrecht.

“It is I who must apologize,” he said, pushing his waistcoat aside to hook a thumb behind one of the straps of his leather braces. “You must forgive me for not making it to supper yesterday evening. Theodor tells me the meal was fabulous, and I have to assume he was telling me the truth.”

“Why is that?”

“He told me his sister is beautiful. He was obviously right.”

While Kathe was trying to think how to respond to such an overt compliment, she noticed his other hand was bandaged around the palm. “What happened?” she nodded toward it, grateful for an avenue to change the subject.

“Oh,” he chuckled, seeming embarrassed by her attention to it, “actually, that’s why I didn’t make it last night. I was in such a hurry to finish what I was doing and meet our appointment, I fear I wasn’t paying attention. A bottle broke in my hand.”

“It’s bleeding,” she said, noting the deep red stain on the bandage.

He glanced at it as if he hadn’t noticed. “I guess holding the reins got it started it again, but—”

“Come inside and I’ll fix it for you.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. I just—”

“Are you too proud to take some help from a common woman, or—”

“No, of course not.” He couldn’t help sounding defensive.

“Then come inside and let me get you a fresh bandage. If you have an appointment or something, you’ll—”

“Oh, no. I’m not in a hurry. I just don’t want to bother you with—”

“Good,” she said and started toward the house. He had little choice but to follow.

Kathe ignored the quickened pace of her heart as she held the door open and motioned this man—a prince—into her home. She closed the door and ushered him toward the kitchen. “Have a seat.” She indicated a chair next to the big work table. “I’ll be right back.”

Erich quickly took in his surroundings and felt a coziness that he couldn’t quite define. He’d not been inside this house since Theodor’s wife had passed away at the time Karl had been born.

When Kathe Lokberg walked back into the room, his blood quickened. He observed her closely, trying to discern the reason. Was it just her simple beauty, or something more? She washed her hands at a water pump, then got some things down from a high shelf. Sitting across the corner of the table, she took his hand. Something came alive in him at her touch. He felt as if he could look at her forever as she carefully unwound the bloodied bandage.

“Merciful heaven,” she said when his palm came into view. “What on earth did you do?” The bleeding gash was surrounded by blistered burns.

“That bottle I told you about . . . it had a chemical in it that doesn’t react well to human skin.”

“So, I see,” Kathe said. “Did you have a doctor look at this?”

“Oh, that’s not necessary. He’s a busy man.”

She glanced at him before dabbing disinfectant onto his hand. He took a sharp breath, and she looked up to gauge his reaction, certain he was hurting far more than he was letting on. She smiled from the subtle wrinkle at the top of his nose.

“You don’t seem like a duke,” she said, turning her attention back to his hand.

“I’m not,” he replied. “My father is the duke.”

“And you are his heir, are you not?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re as good as a duke.”

“I hope my father lives a long time.”

“I hear he’s a good man,” she said, and the statement warmed him.

“The best,” Erich admitted readily. “His shoes will be difficult to fill.”

Kathe folded a clean piece of gauze into a thick pad and pressed it over the cut, holding it there firmly.

“You’re very capable, Miss Lokberg.”

“Thank you,” she said, then wondered what to call him. “If you’re not the duke, what are you exactly?”

“Just a prince,” he said nonchalantly.

Kathe laughed softly.

“Was that funny?” he asked almost indignantly.

“It’s the most incongruous statement I’ve ever heard. Just a prince. It’s like saying a tornado is just a breeze.” Kathe chuckled again, but when she met his eyes, there was no trace of amusement there. “Did I offend you?” she asked.

“No,” he replied with no hint of malice. “I’m quite accustomed to people regarding me with all degrees of deference. But it’s difficult to make people understand that while I consider my position an honor and I don’t take it lightly, it is also a great burden at times. Having a country on your shoulders is not often a pleasant experience—quite humbling, in truth.”

Kathe was stunned into silence. She became somehow lost in his eyes. Reminding herself not to gape, she turned her attention to his hand, briefly lifting the gauze away. When blood oozed from the wound, she quickly put pressure on it again.

“As you can see,” he added with a subtle smile, “I bleed red, just like any other man.”

“Forgive me. It’s just that Theodor talks about you as if you were some kind of god or something. I just expected you to be more . . . dare I say, arrogant?”

His smile deepened. “Maybe I am. You only met me a few minutes ago, Miss Lokberg. You know absolutely nothing about me.”

“On the contrary. I know you don’t miss appointments without good cause, or without personally making amends. And you don’t send for a doctor when you probably should, while I expected you might have one on hand to minister to every mosquito bite.”

Erich chuckled.

“You’re laughing at me again, sir.”

“It’s just that you certainly have a high opinion of royalty,” he said with gentle sarcasm. “Although, I confess to knowing some people who would not disappoint your assumptions.”

“Really? Do tell.”

“They don’t rule this country, thankfully, but I have to work with them on occasion, nevertheless.”

Kathe smiled, and Erich felt a giddy lurch somewhere deep inside. She was incredible. Following her candid example, he said, “You’re not what I expected, either.”

“How is that?” she asked, peeking beneath the gauze to be assured that he was still bleeding.

“It’s like I told Theodor, why should I believe that somebody like him would have a clever, beautiful sister?”

Kathe looked up in surprise, then she felt herself turn warm from the smile in his eyes.

“Theodor is very sweet,” she said in his defense, “most of the time, anyway.”

“Yes.” Erich chuckled. “He’s a good man—and he does good work,” he added emphatically. “I would be lost without him.”

“He enjoys his work very much,” she said. “Though, actually, I don’t see him often. You keep him busy.”

“Yes, I suppose I do. I understand it’s you who has mostly raised Karl. I’ve often wondered what Theodor would have ever done without you. Losing Leisl was very difficult for him.”

Again Kathe had to remind herself this was Erich du Woernig. While she’d imagined him ordering his servants about with little interest in their personal lives, he was well aware of Theodor’s circumstances. He even knew the name of a woman who had been dead several years.

“Yes,” she agreed, “it’s been difficult for all of us. But Karl is a good boy. I’ve enjoyed helping with him, though I must confess, my father has done the majority of the raising. I mostly just keep him fed and out of trouble.”

“Which is no small thing.”

Kathe ignored the compliment and gently lifted the gauze from his hand to see that the bleeding had mostly stopped.

“That’s better,” she said, and Erich concentrated on her face as she gently dabbed a sticky salve over the burns on his hand. “Does it hurt much?” she asked.

“Not nearly as much as it did last night,” he admitted. “I confess that I hardly slept.”

“I can well imagine.” She grimaced slightly at the thought. “It may get worse before it gets better when those blisters open up.”

“Oh, that gives me something to look forward to,” he said with light sarcasm.

Kathe chuckled softly and put a clean gauze pad over the cut before she wrapped gauze carefully around his hand to cover the entire wound and keep it in place. She split the ends and tied them, announcing triumphantly, “There. All fixed.”

“Thank you,” he said, wondering if he should get up and leave now. He certainly didn’t want to.

“You’re most welcome,” she replied.

Erich took hold of her fingers with his good hand and deftly pressed his lips to her hand. “You are an angel of mercy, Miss Lokberg. It’s too bad I didn’t find you years ago.”

Kathe wondered by the look in his eyes if he was implying a deeper meaning, but she willed her heart to stay calm and convinced herself that he was just being gracious. Diplomacy was no doubt one of the skills he’d acquired through his upbringing.

“And why is that?” she asked.

“There have been many times in my life when your expertise would have been greatly appreciated, if not your bedside manner.”

“Do you commonly require medical attention?” She stood to return the medical supplies to a high shelf.

“Only in cases of gunshot wounds, coma, or temporary paralysis,” he stated as if he were discussing the weather.

Kathe turned to look at him dubiously. “Surely you’re joking.”

He laughed as she returned to her chair, but for a moment Kathe saw something vulnerable, almost shy, about him. “Surely you don’t want to hear the horror stories of my life, Miss Lokberg. They are quite tedious, I can assure you.”

“But you’ve aroused my curiosity now.”

“Perhaps another time.”

She tingled from the thought of actually seeing him again. “Perhaps it would give us something to talk about when you come to supper this evening; unless you’re busy, of course.”

Erich smiled. “Oh, I’m not busy, but you mustn’t feel obligated to—”

“I cook supper every evening. Feeding one more mouth shouldn’t be a problem. Although I can’t promise it will be quite as fancy as it was yesterday. I cooked a meal fit for a prince.”

“And why did you do that?” he asked impishly.

“My brother told me to expect one.”

Erich sighed. “I’m truly sorry about that. I—”

“It’s all right,” she interrupted. “I understand, really.” She smiled. “Are you hungry?”

“What, now?”

“It is well past noon,” she reported. “I was going to heat up what was left over. Why don’t you join me?”

Kathe nearly expected him to refuse, or at least stammer apologies and excuse himself. But he smiled and simply said, “I’d love to.”

Kathe stood up and began pulling items from the icebox. “I’m afraid it’s just the two of us. My father took Little Karl fishing for the day. I hope you don’t find my company too tedious.”

“No chance of that,” he said, and she tried to suppress the way her heart reacted. While she noisily dug out the necessary pans, Kathe reminded herself once again that he was a prince. Surely every woman in Horstberg felt intrigued and awed in his presence. And surely he would have no interest in a woman so common.

“Do you want some help?” he asked, coming to his feet.

“Do you do that?” she retorted, wishing it hadn’t sounded so astonished.

Erich chuckled and proceeded to light the stove without her permission. “There,” he said, holding his good hand a few inches above it to test the heat, “that ought to be about right for heating up a meal fit for a prince.”

“Thank you.” She forced herself to look anywhere but at him.

Feeling suddenly nervous, she was relieved when he said, “If I’m staying a while, I think I’ll see that my horse is comfortable; if you will excuse me.”

“Of course. The stable is open. Make yourself at home.”

By the time Erich returned, Kathe had set dishes out in the dining room and prepared a pitcher of fresh lemonade, and the food was hot enough to put onto serving plates. She returned from taking a tray into the dining room to find him washing his hands at the water pump in the kitchen, taking care to avoid getting the bandage wet.

“It smells wonderful,” he said.

Kathe only smiled and picked up the last of it. “If you’ll come this way, Your Highness, lunch is served.”

Erich smirked and followed her through the door. He gave in to the urge of watching her as she walked, and couldn’t recall ever taking such an interest in the sway of a woman’s skirts. He marveled at her efficiency as she lit candles on the table, poured out lemonade, and motioned for him to be seated.

“After you,” he said, gracefully helping her with her chair.

He sat down across from her, and she said, “We must bless it.”

Erich nodded, then listened as she offered a brief but sincere blessing on the food. She reminded him of his mother. They proceeded to eat mostly in silence until he said, “Did it taste this good the first time?”

“Better.”

“An accident has never caused me such grief.” He smirked.

“Not even the temporary paralysis?” she asked, certain he’d been teasing her about that.

“No, not even that.”

“Dare I ask what you were doing with a bottle of some chemical potent enough to do that to your hand?”

“I’m a chemist.”

“I thought you were a prince.”

“Being a prince is my job,” he stated with an impish sparkle in his eyes that she realized was common. “Chemistry is my hobby.”

“I see,” she said, then probed him with questions about it. His enthusiasm about chemistry made his enjoyment evident. Kathe had to admit as she listened to him that her intrigue was settling into something deeper. He was everything she hadn’t expected, and she actually liked him. She wondered if he always smiled so much, which gave her ample opportunity to observe the dimples that appeared in his cheeks when he did. More than once he tucked his hair behind his ear with his fingers, or quickly pushed a hand through it. The loose curls of deep red added to a boyish appeal that was starkly contrasted by his overall virility. She could have watched him forever.

“So,” she said after a brief lull of silence, “tell me about this coma and . . . whatever else it was you suffered from.”

“Gunshot.”

“Yes, of course.” She smiled. “Gunshot.”

“You’re determined to have me start bragging about my battle wounds and make a fool of myself, aren’t you.”

“Battle wounds?” she questioned.

“Well, not literally.” He leaned toward her and added, “Enough about me. Tell me about you, Miss Lokberg.”

“There’s little to tell. I’m a very common woman.”

“By whose standards?” he asked, showing those dimples again.

“This is where I live. This is what I do.”

“You’re a marvelous cook. And you have a beautiful garden. Theodor told me that you love your garden.”

“Yes,” she smiled timidly, “I confess that I love my garden.”

Kathe was in awe of the endless string of questions he asked that kept her talking about her garden and the trivial aspects of her life. They finished their meal and sat for a long while at the table while she marveled at the genuine interest in his eyes. She reminded herself that she was nothing more than a temporary pastime for a very busy, very prestigious man, but she made up her mind to enjoy his attention while it lasted, and not concern herself with tomorrow.

When silence finally fell, Kathe resisted the urge to just stare at him and rose abruptly from the table. “Oh, look at the time. I’m certain you have important things to be doing that—”

“Actually,” he interrupted with apology, “I do have a few things I need to attend to. But I have an appointment this evening that I certainly don’t want to miss—if you think you can tolerate any more of my company in one day.”

Kathe smiled. “Shall we say seven o’clock?”

“I’ll be here. I promise.”

Kathe walked Erich to the door where he thanked her twice and told her how delicious the meal had been. When he finally left, she closed the door and leaned against it for several minutes, just trying to make sense of what she was feeling. Recalling that he would return in a matter of hours, she stifled a whoop of excitement and hurried to put things in order.

Erich hurried to the office and found his father there alone. Cameron glanced at the clock. “That was an awfully long errand.”

Erich sat down and put his feet up on another chair. “Did you miss me?”

“No, but I was hoping to pawn some of this paperwork off on you. Where have you been, anyway?”

Erich grinned and leaned back. “I was having lunch with a woman.”

Cameron pushed his glasses down on his nose and looked at Erich over the top of them. “My ears must be going bad. I’d swear you just said you had lunch with a woman.”

Erich laughed and leaned forward. “Let me repeat myself, Father. I had lunch with a woman.”

Cameron took off his glasses and tossed them on the desk. “Is she pretty?”

“Almost as beautiful as my mother,” he said, lifting his brows quickly.

“Wow,” Cameron leaned back and smiled, “she must be incredible.”

“She is, and I’m having dinner with her this evening, too.”

“Wow,” Cameron repeated with a chuckle. “It must be serious.”

Erich’s expression sobered as he asked, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Cameron tucked his hair behind his ear with his finger and chuckled warmly. “You know, I spent weeks trying to convince myself that what I felt for your mother was nothing more than some primeval male thing because I’d been alone for so long before I found her. But one day I just had to admit that I loved her. And I realized I’d loved her the minute I saw her. How do you explain what happens when two people look at each other and they just know their lives will never be the same?”

Erich didn’t understand why a sudden rush of emotion burned into his eyes. He looked down and managed to blink it back before his father noticed. But as his mind conjured up a clear image of Kathe Lokberg, the emotion inside him intensified.

“I don’t know,” Erich said, still looking at the floor, “how do you explain it?”

“If I knew,” Cameron chuckled, “I wouldn’t have asked you. You’re the chemist. How do you explain the way some mixtures do nothing while others become volatile?”

“Good analogy. I didn’t realize you were such a deep thinker.”

“Actually,” Cameron admitted, “Georg mentioned it once.”

“Well, tell him I said it was a good analogy.”

“Where you going?” Cameron asked as Erich stood and moved toward the door.

“I’ve got to get ready for dinner.”

“It’s early yet.”

“Early? I’m in my thirties, for crying out loud.”

Cameron shook his head and laughed.

“Face it, Father,” he said, “I’d be useless to you today. I’m afraid you’re going to have to manage.”

“Get out of here,” Cameron said in mock anger. “But don’t wait too long to bring her to meet us.”

Erich smirked playfully and hurried upstairs. Coming to the top, he stopped suddenly as the long hallway came into view, reminding him of that awful dream. His stomach lurched and his heart quickened with dread. He felt again as if Nik Koenig was haunting him, except that the man was still alive and well somewhere. Were these feelings some kind of warning to Erich that something ominous was going to occur, or was it emotional residue from the trauma that Nik had caused in the past? Either way, Erich didn’t want Nik Koenig or anyone else interfering with these wonderful newfound feelings Kathe had brought to life in him. He took a deep breath, forced any negative thoughts out of his mind, and hurried down the hall. He found his sister in her sitting room, sketching.

“What are you up to?” Maggie asked, noting his light demeanor.

“Mags,” he said, sitting across the little table from her, “when did you realize you were in love with Han?”

Maggie narrowed her eyes on him. “Erich?” she drawled. “Are you trying to tell me that you—”

“Just answer the question.”

Maggie laughed softly. “I think in a way I grew up loving Han. I was just too stupid to recognize my feelings for what they were.” Noting the grin that seemed permanently etched into Erich’s countenance, Maggie turned to a fresh page in the huge sketch-book propped in her lap.

Erich leaned his forearm on the table and set his chin on it while he listened to Maggie talk on and on about the things she had gradually come to feel for Han through their adventures.

The door opened and Stefan peeked in. “Mother, have you seen . . . oh, there you are, Uncle Erich.”

“Did you need something, Stef?” he asked as the child came to stand by his mother.

“No, I was just looking for you.”

Erich and Maggie exchanged a knowing smile. It was increasingly evident that Stefan felt drawn to Erich, and there was a definite soft spot in Erich’s heart for the child.

“It’s Erich,” Stefan announced, looking at the partially finished sketch.

“Oh, hush,” Maggie scolded lightly. Then she motioned toward Erich. “Now that you know it’s you, just put your chin back where it was and keep smiling.” She chuckled and added, “The smiling doesn’t seem to be a problem. What’s going on?”

“I just had lunch with someone,” he said as if it were nothing, but the sparkle in his eyes deepened. Combined with his questions, Maggie knew this someone must be special.

“So, tell me,” Erich asked, “what made you think you were in love with Nik Koenig?” She saw him shudder slightly from the very mention of the name, but it seemed an important question to him and the happiness of his demeanor quickly returned. “Obviously it wasn’t right.”

Maggie grimaced. “Oh, don’t remind me. I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Seriously, Mags. What was the difference?”

“Well, at the time I certainly thought I loved Nik. But when I look back, I know that instead of listening to my instincts, I was ignoring them. He was charming and said all the right things—for obvious reasons. When I learned to really listen to my feelings and hear what they were telling me, I could see that I’d felt good about Han for years, and what I felt for Nik was almost . . . creepy.” She shuddered herself.

While Maggie continued sketching, Stefan watched with deep concentration, and Erich briefly searched his feelings. He felt his smile broaden as his heart quickened. There was no degree of anything negative in what Kathe Lokberg had already spurred in him. He glanced at the clock. Seven seemed so far away.

“That’s really good,” Stefan said to his mother. “What are you going to do with it?”

Maggie smiled playfully at Erich. “Maybe I’ll give it to the woman your Uncle Erich had lunch with.”

Erich chuckled. “Before you do, we’d better be certain she wants to spend the rest of her life looking at my face.”

“Who wouldn’t when it looks like this?” Maggie turned it around to show him. “It needs a little work yet, but I’ve got the basic idea.” Erich chuckled, and she added, “I’ll call it Erich in Love.”

“Don’t be absurd.” Erich stood and ruffled Stefan’s rust-colored hair before he moved to the door. “I only met her today.”

“I’ll get it framed for a betrothal gift,” she said. He smirked and closed the door.

“What was that all about?” Stefan asked.

Maggie resumed her work on the drawing, adding details to the curls in Erich’s hair. “I’m not certain, Stefan. But perhaps Erich’s finally found a woman he could enjoy spending the rest of his life with.”

“Do you think he’ll get married and have children?”

“Eventually.”

“Will they be my cousins?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I hope he hurries.”

“Why is that, son?”

“Because Gerhard and Hannah are boring.”

Maggie chuckled. “Perhaps they think that you’re boring. Just because you’re different from each other, doesn’t mean you can’t get along.”

“I know. They’re just boring.”

Maggie chuckled again and gave her son a quick embrace. “You’re a very special boy, Stefan. One day you’re going to do great things.”

“Like my grandfathers?”

“Perhaps even greater,” she said and he smiled.

Erich went to his room to freshen up and change. He found Theodor there, stretched out in a chair, reading a book.

“Good, you’re here,” Erich said. “I need to get cleaned up. And when we’re finished, you’d best hurry to your father’s home.”

“Why is that?” Theodor asked dubiously.

“I met your sister earlier. I apologized for last night, and all. She invited me over this evening. Surely you don’t want to miss it. You’ve been waiting for this for years.”

Theodor prodded Erich with questions, but he refused to say anything further. When Theodor left, Erich scowled at the time still left on the clock. It seemed like forever. Impulsively, he went to find his mother.

“Hello,” he said, slipping into the library where she was perusing a number of books spread over a large table.

“Erich.” She beamed and held out a hand toward him. Erich stepped toward her and took it, easing his arm around her with a firm embrace.

“How’s your hand?” she asked gently.

“Better, thank you.”

They kissed and she looked up into his face. A smile absorbed her countenance as she said, “What are you up to?”

“What do you mean by that?” He chuckled.

“You’re positively glowing.”

“What do you think I’m up to? Just guess.”

Abbi narrowed her eyes, then her smile deepened. “Have you met someone?”

Erich laughed. “I would swear you can read minds, Your Grace. What makes you think I’ve met someone?”

“It was just a . . . hunch.”

“Well, as usual, you’re right. I had lunch with a lovely young woman, and I’m on my way to have supper with her.”

“You like her,” she said. It was not a question.

Erich laughed again. “I like her very much, yes.” His expression sobered and he asked, “Mother, is it possible to believe, so quickly, that she could be the one for me?”

Abbi smiled serenely and urged him to sit beside her. With his good hand in hers, she looked into his eyes and said, “Do you remember the words to that song your father wrote for you?”

“Of course.”

“What’s the last line, Erich?”

He thought a moment. “A fire burns in my heart.”

Abbi placed her hand over the center of his chest. “If you feel it, Erich, it’s possible.”

Erich couldn’t explain the warm chill that rushed over his shoulders as she continued. “Your father and I have been through some difficult things together, Erich, and we don’t always agree, yet there is one thing we have no dispute over. What we felt for each other, right from the start, was more powerful than what it takes to rule a country. I believe all people are entitled to that kind of love, but many don’t have the insight or determination to look past pride and fear to find it, or acknowledge it. You are a du Woernig. Your instincts are strong. Your heart is true. Listen to your feelings, Erich, and you will know. However, that doesn’t necessarily mean it will be easy. It took me a long time to break through the walls your father had built around himself. I can assure you, however, that such a love is worth waiting for—and worth fighting for.”

Erich smiled and embraced his mother again. “You are an incredible woman, Abbi du Woernig. I want a daughter just like you.”

“I suppose that’s possible.” She laughed. “But in the meantime, you’d best get to that dinner appointment.”

Erich glanced at the clock. His heart lurched at the realization he could be late if he didn’t hurry. “Yes, I’d better. Thank you.”

“Have a good time,” she called as he hurried toward the door.

Long after he left, Abbi sat in quiet contemplation. She thought of Erich and could nearly feel all over again the childish excitement she’d felt when she’d first acknowledged her attraction to Cameron du Woernig. She laughed softly and returned to her books, grateful for the incredible son she’d been blessed with. She prayed that his future would hold the same joy for him as she’d found with his father.