Chapter Eight

ELIMINATING PROGENY

“Are you feeling any better today, Father?” Maggie asked, and Cameron’s head shot up from his breakfast. “You’ve seemed a little down since that execution,” she clarified in response to his blank expression.

“I’m fine.” He smiled, but Maggie knew that everyone felt the tension.

“Han and I are going into town this afternoon,” Maggie went on. “Would anyone like to come along?”

“What will you be doing?” Abbi asked.

“We’re taking Hannah and Gerhard to be fitted for their clothes for the wedding.”

Erich’s face lit up, as it always did when the forthcoming event was mentioned.

“I already did that,” Stefan said distastefully.

“Do you want to come along anyway?” Han asked him.

“Stefan’s coming with me,” Erich announced.

“We’re going riding this morning,” Stefan added proudly. “And this afternoon I’ve got to practice the piano.”

Abbi said to Erich, “Isn’t Kathe coming this morning?”

“Yes, but I told her she would have to occupy herself until Stefan and I return from riding.” Erich smiled warmly at Stefan, and the boy was obviously pleased.

“Do you want to go into town, Mother?” Han asked Abbi.

“Thank you, dear,” she replied, “but I think I’ll paint this afternoon, and then I’ll be here if I’m needed.”

“Come along, Stefan.” Erich rose to his feet.

Stefan picked up his riding crop and donned his hat, pausing barely to kiss his mother before he skipped away.

“Hey!” Han called to him. “What about your old papa?”

Stefan grinned and ran back to hug his father and they were off.

“He is such a joy,” Abbi said. Han and Maggie could only agree.

“Are you going to be the Duke of Horstberg?” Stefan asked Erich as they headed out.

“I sure am,” he replied.

“Are you glad?”

“Ah, I don’t mind.”

“But do you want to be the duke?”

“Let’s just say I’m well prepared to be the duke. I’m certain I’ll have a good life.” He attempted to squelch thoughts of the present threats against Horstberg continuing throughout his life.

“You’d rather be a chemist,” Stefan stated.

“Perhaps,” Erich said, “but I can do that as well—just for the fun of it.”

“I can’t decide if I want to be an artist or a musician,” Stefan said thoughtfully.

“I think you should be both.”

“Do you think I can?”

“Of course.” Erich laughed. “You can be anything you set your mind to being.”

“Do you love Kathe?” Stefan asked.

“Very much,” Erich replied, surprised at the question.

“I hope the baby is a boy,” Stefan added methodically.

“I thought you wanted your mother to have a girl.”

“Not that baby!”

“What other baby is there?” Erich asked.

“The one Kathe is going to have when you get married.”

“Oh,” Erich chuckled, “that baby. Why do you hope it’s a boy?”

“So I don’t have to be the Duke of Horstberg,” Stefan said.

Erich looked toward him in surprise. “Don’t you want to be?”

“Cameron says that it’s precarious.”

“That’s a pretty big word.”

“Isn’t he right?”

“I suppose precarious could describe it at times. But it’s not so bad.”

“I’m not worried. I know Kathe will have a boy.”

“Well, I certainly hope so.” Erich chuckled again, and his thoughts turned to Kathe. He reminded himself to believe in those miracles.

“I’ll race you,” Stefan said when they reached the meadow. Before Erich could reply, Stefan heeled his stallion into a gallop.

When the first shot was fired, Erich’s heart went mad. Stefan stopped and turned, looking bewildered while Erich raced toward him. With the second shot, Stefan fell, and Erich was over him like a protective lion. He felt a bullet braise his back as he leapt from the horse, wondering if either of them would ever live to be the Duke of Horstberg.

Shots continued from the trees. Erich could see nothing from where he lay, instinctively pretending he was dead, hoping and praying that this would end before he was.

Stefan lay completely motionless in his arms. “Please no,” he whispered, but he didn’t dare move even enough to see if Stefan was alive.

The shots finally ceased, and Erich heard a distant rustling in the trees. Then silence—a deathly silence that forced Erich to finally move and look around. Pulling back, relief washed over him to see Stefan, eyes wide with fear but very much alive.

“Are you all right?” Erich asked.

“My leg hurts, Uncle Erich,” he said, obviously trying to sound brave. “It hurts bad.” Tears welled up in Stefan’s eyes, and Erich felt like crying himself. Before Erich moved away to check the problem, he realized his breeches were wet and glanced down to see blood gushing from Stefan’s thigh. Erich attempted to subdue his rising panic. The last thing he needed was for Stefan to go into shock. Erich quickly removed his waistcoat, tore it, and bound it around Stefan’s thigh. He then glanced around and realized the horses were gone. Panicked, he gave a shrill whistle. Nothing happened, but when he whistled again, his well-trained stallion came trotting out of the trees toward them.

Erich sighed with relief. They were alive, and they had transportation. He figured if the other horse didn’t return to the castle, he would send someone to look for it.

“All right now,” he said to Stefan, trying to sound positive, “we’re going to get you home and then everything will be all right.”

He came carefully to his feet, but Stefan apparently noticed him grimace. “You’re hurt too, Uncle Erich.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’m more worried about you.”

Erich was grateful that Stefan was small for his age as he carefully pulled him into his arms and set him on the horse. The child gritted his teeth and moaned with each movement, but once Erich was in the saddle behind him, Stefan relaxed and held onto him tightly.

A sick dread rose in the pit of Erich’s stomach as they rode toward Castle Horstberg. He could almost literally feel the strength draining out of Stefan. The makeshift bandage was already saturated with deepening red, and blood seeped into Erich’s clothes and dripped over the saddle.

Stefan was too little to even have that much blood, Erich thought, but he tried to remain cheerful to keep from frightening him.

“We’re almost there,” Erich said, managing a smile.

“Is this was Cameron meant,” Stefan asked weakly, “when he said it was precarious?”

Erich bit his lip and swallowed hard. “Yes, Stefan, I think this is what he meant.” He paused and attempted a positive note. “But we’ll be all right. I’ve been shot before, you know.”

“You have?”

“In the shoulder. Long before you were born. And another time they tried to shoot me and missed.”

Stefan said nothing, and Erich realized the child was barely conscious.

“Help me!” Erich ordered to anyone who was there as he rode into the courtyard. A servant hurried out to take the horse, and three officers of the Guard appeared.

“Good heavens, sir! What happened?” one of them asked as he helped steady Erich’s dismount with Stefan in his arms.

“Someone’s using royal heirs for target practice again,” Erich snarled. “Get a doctor!” he ordered, and one of them hurried away.

“Find his parents,” Erich ordered, “or my parents—anybody!” Another officer ran into the castle entrance.

Erich glanced down at Stefan, steadily weakening in his arms. “I’d like to know what kind of perverse mind would want to shoot a child,” he muttered to the officer at his side.

“If I knew, I’d strangle them personally,” he answered angrily, holding the door for Erich.

“Han!” Erich shouted, knowing it was ridiculous to think he could hear it. He sank involuntarily to his knees, suddenly feeling weak. “Where are they, dammit?” he muttered, then he shouted at the officer, “Find him!”

“We’re home, Stefan,” Erich said gently when they were alone, and the child’s eyes came languidly open. “Everything’s going to be all right.” Stefan made no response, and Erich pulled him close, unable to hold back the emotion any longer. “Oh, please don’t leave us, Stefan. We need you. We all need you so much.”

Stefan attempted a smile, but his eyes closed again. A sob erupted from Erich’s throat as he frantically searched for any evidence of life. He kept his fingers pressed tightly against the faint pulse in Stefan’s neck while tears fell over his face.

“Hang on, Stefan,” he cried. “Please, hang on!”

Erich looked up at the sound of footsteps and saw Han running down the hall with Cameron and Georg at his heels.

Han’s pounding heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as the reason he’d been summoned came into view. For a moment he was stunned, unable to move, unable to think. All he could see was the blood. He’d never seen so much blood in his life! Erich looked up at him, tears streaming down his face, and Han could already hear the words in his mind. He’s dead.

Erich looked back to Stefan. “You’re father’s here,” he said gently, and Han sank to his knees with relief when Stefan’s eyes came open.

“It all happened so fast,” Erich cried as Han took his son. “I hurried back as soon as they stopped shooting at us, but . . .” His explanation faded into emotion as Han looked into his eyes. With all they had shared in their lifetime, a moment had never been so poignant.

“Dear God, help us,” Cameron muttered as he appeared at Han’s side, startling him.

“What happened?” Georg demanded.

“He was shot,” Erich managed. “I sent someone for the doctor.”

“Get him upstairs,” Georg ordered, helping Han to his feet. He’d barely started down the hall when the women came running from the other direction. Erich bit his lip to keep from crying out when Maggie went hysterical. She screamed and cried until Cameron took her by the shoulders and shook her gently. “Look at me, girl,” he insisted. “Now, take a deep breath and calm down. Your ranting isn’t going to help him.”

Maggie took hold of her father and pressed her face to his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

Abbi glanced at Erich, as if to assure herself he was all right. He stood and nodded, and she left Maggie in Cameron’s care to hurry after Han and Georg. Only then did Erich realize Kathe was there. She’d obviously been with Abbi and Maggie when they’d gotten the news. The shock and horror in her expression provoked a whole new bout of emotion. He moaned as he held out a hand toward her.

Kathe willed her heart to stop pounding as she rushed into Erich’s arms, oblivious to the blood on his hands and clothes. He took her fingers into a trembling hand, holding them so tightly it hurt. Meeting her eyes, he pressed her hand to the center of his chest, saying in a shaky voice, “It’s still beating, Kathe.”

She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed nearly as hard as Maggie had. A minute later the doctor arrived, and Cameron took Maggie upstairs to wait. Erich eased Kathe closer, inwardly thanking God that he was still alive, and praying that Stefan would survive. He was startled at the pain he felt when she put a hand on his back, and he winced.

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, pulling away. He said nothing as she looked at her hand and gasped to see fresh blood there. “Good heavens,” she muttered, turning his back to her view. “You’re hurt as well.”

“It’s nothing,” he insisted. “I forgot all about it until you touched it.”

“It’s bleeding too much to be nothing.” She scowled at him. “You need to have the doctor look at this.”

“He’s very busy at the moment,” Erich snarled.

“Then let me look at it.” She took his hand and headed up the stairs. Though her heart was still beating hard from the reality of coming so close to losing him, she was determined to keep this as light as possible. She knew his concern was with Stefan at the moment, and he didn’t need her emotion adding to the burden.

“Your dress is ruined,” he said as they entered his room, leaving the door open.

Kathe glanced down at the blood smeared over the yellow fabric. “It will come out if I soak it long enough. But this,” she motioned toward his shirt, “could be hopeless.” As she unbuttoned it for him, she added, “Is this what Theodor does?”

“I can usually manage taking off my own clothes.”

“All the same,” she managed a smile, “I think I should very much like his job.” Their eyes met as she untucked the shirt from his breeches and pushed it over his shoulders. But there was nothing romantic in the gaze they shared, only poignancy and fear.

“I assume a bullet did this,” she said, pulling his shirt off from behind.

“Unless it was one hell of a bumble bee.”

Kathe forced back her emotion and managed a little laugh as she tossed the shirt on the floor. “Why don’t you sit down and—”

“Because I’m covered with blood,” he interrupted.

Kathe glanced at his breeches. “I think I’ll wait in the hall while you change. I wouldn’t want you to embarrass me.”

Kathe caught a hint of a smile as she closed the door. She’d only been outside the room a minute when Theodor came bounding up the hall.

“I just heard what happened,” he said. “Are you all right?”

Kathe shook her head vehemently and forced a smile. “But if I start crying again, I’ll never be able to stop, so don’t make me talk about it.”

“Is Erich—”

“He’s getting changed. He could probably use some water to clean up and . . .”

Theodor nodded and went into the room, leaving her alone. Kathe went to her room and changed, leaving the stained dress soaking in cold water. Then for another ten minutes she paced the hall outside Erich’s door, fighting not to think about the reality. The bullet that had braised Erich’s back could have pierced his heart had the aim varied a few inches. She jumped when the door came open and Theodor appeared with Erich’s soiled clothes.

“I’ll get you something to put on that wound,” he said and hurried down the hall.

Kathe entered Erich’s room to find him staring out the window, wearing clean breeches and nothing else. The damage from the bullet looked bloody but wasn’t bleeding anymore. She put a hand on his arm and he started.

“You’re still shaking,” she said.

Erich held up his hands and looked at them. “Yes, I am.” He looked into her eyes. “If he doesn’t make it, I’ll—”

“Shhh.” Kathe put her fingers over his lips. “He’s alive. You’re alive. And for the moment, that’s all that matters.”

Erich pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. She was briefly distracted by the feel of him without a shirt, but she forced her mind to the reason she was here.

“Now, let me look at this,” she said, turning him around. “Ooh,” she grimaced, “it’s not deep, but it’s nasty looking.”

Theodor came back with some medical supplies and helped Kathe treat and bandage the wound. She was wrapping long strips of gauze around his torso to hold the bandage in place when Abbi appeared in the doorway.

“Good heavens,” she said. “I didn’t know you were hurt, too.”

“It’s nothing, Mother,” Erich insisted. “Is Stefan—”

“The doctor’s with him. It’s difficult to know at this point how bad it is.” She walked toward him. “I take it you were hit, as well.”

“It just braised him,” Kathe reported. “It’s not deep.”

“Thank God for that,” Abbi said, taking Erich’s face into her hands. “Are you all right?” she asked intently. He knew what she meant. Erich shook his head and she pulled him close.

“Has Maggie calmed down yet?” Erich asked.

“Your father is with her.”

“Han and Maggie must hate me,” he added.

“It’s not your fault,” Abbi insisted.

“Then why do I feel this way? I should have never taken him there. If I hadn’t—”

“There’s no good in that.” Abbi took his chin into her hand and looked into his eyes. “Stefan will be fine, but even if he isn’t, you must know it was not your fault and you did all that you could. If the duke blamed himself every time one of his people was hurt or killed in defense of his country, he would be too lost in guilt to be able to rule.”

Erich nodded willfully and embraced his mother.

“Put on a shirt,” Abbi told him, “and we’ll go see how Stefan is doing.”

Erich donned a shirt and boots, and Kathe held his hand tightly as they followed his mother to the hall outside Stefan’s room. Maggie was crying on Han’s shoulder, her hand holding tightly to her father’s. Georg was sitting at Cameron’s side, looking almost as glum as he had when he’d lost his wife. The men looked up when they approached. Maggie was oblivious.

“I tried to get him out of the way,” Erich said, mostly to Han, “but it was too late.”

“He surely wouldn’t even be alive if you hadn’t been there,” Han replied.

“I knew something would happen,” Cameron muttered as Abbi guided Erich to a chair across the hall. “But I didn’t think it would be like this.”

Kathe sat close to Erich and felt his grip tighten around her hand. Following minutes of grueling silence, Cameron demanded to hear what had happened, and Erich told all that he knew.

Kathe saw the duke’s eyes harden, and Georg bore an expression of intensity that was almost frightening. Beneath their concern for Stefan’s life was a deep-seated bitterness.

“What’s the point?” Georg asked. “Are they trying to scare us, or do they really believe they can eliminate all the heirs to Horstberg? It’s preposterous!”

Cameron nodded in agreement but nothing more was said. The time dragged on while they all wondered what could be taking so long. The entire family came to their feet in unison when the door finally opened and the doctor appeared.

“The bullet’s out,” he reported. “I’m afraid it was deep, but as far as I can see at this point, he’s going to be fine.”

Maggie nearly collapsed into fresh tears as embraces of relief were shared among the family.

“I’ve given him something to help the pain that will probably put him to sleep soon. But I think he would like to see his family first.”

The doctor motioned them into the room, and Maggie rushed to Stefan’s side, pressing her face carefully to his. Han knelt beside the bed and brushed the child’s hair back off his brow. Erich fought back his own emotion as he observed them. Stefan was so pale he almost looked dead, but he opened his eyes and smiled, first at his parents—then his eyes focused on his grandparents, hovering behind them.

“Grandmama,” he said so softly they could barely hear him. “Am I going to die?”

“No!” Cameron insisted. “You’re not going to die, Stefan.”

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Georg added.

“Is Erich—” Stefan began weakly.

“I’m right here,” Erich said, easing a little closer. “I’m fine.”

Stefan smiled again and closed his eyes. Maggie gripped Han’s hand tightly as she kissed Stefan’s cheek. “You sleep now, my little man,” she said. “You’ll be all better in no time.”

Kathe could see the love and concern in Erich’s expression as he watched his young nephew. Silence hung uncomfortably until Erich hurried out of the room, Kathe’s hand firmly in his.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he hurried down the stairs, nearly dragging her along.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” he replied, and Kathe knew they were going to the mountain meadow.

He went first to the office and scribbled a quick note for this father, leaving it on the desk.

“Do you think we should?” she asked while he was saddling his stallion. “I mean. . . what if—”

“We’ll be careful,” he interrupted tersely.

Erich helped Kathe mount before getting into the saddle behind her and taking the reins. He said nothing as they galloped through the trees, but Kathe could feel his anguish. The reality of death hovered so close she could almost taste it. More than once, tears burned into her eyes, but she discreetly wiped them away and tried to swallow her emotion, not wanting to upset him further.

In the meadow, Erich dismounted and pulled Kathe into his arms with desperation.

“Talk to me, Erich,” she whispered. “It’s just you and me, now. You can tell me how it really feels.”

“How can I when . . .” Erich stopped and squeezed his eyes shut. Emotion tainted his voice as he finished. “In spite of everything that’s been happening, I suppose I . . . wanted to believe . . . it wouldn’t happen . . . again.”

Kathe sat down in the high grass and drew her knees to her chest, urging Erich to sit next to her. He eased close beside her, his longs legs nearly encircling her. She played idly with the leather of his bootleg while he seemed lost in deep thought.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she urged.

“I wish I could explain it.”

“Try,” she encouraged.

Erich took a deep breath. “When that first shot rang out, it was like all the memories assaulted me instantly. The coma. The shootings. The paralysis. All of it. But as difficult as it was before, I thought of you and wondered how I could ever bear leaving you when our life together has just begun.”

As Erich voiced Kathe’s deepest fear, the strain of holding back her emotion suddenly became too great, and tears fell unrestrained down her face.

“I was terrified,” he admitted with distant eyes. “But in a split second, all of my fear shifted to Stefan.” Erich felt momentarily embarrassed when he started to cry, until he looked at Kathe and knew he wasn’t crying alone. “He doesn’t deserve it,” Erich said sadly. “He’s just a child. Even with everything I have to lose, I would have given my life in a minute for him. I felt so helpless. Just so . . . blasted helpless.”

“You did all you could.”

“That’s just the point.” He looked skyward and noticed clouds darkening overhead, but he didn’t care. “What can a man do when there’s a price on his head? How is a man supposed to feel, knowing that his birthright is so . . .” Erich thought of Stefan’s words and his voice trembled, “so precarious?” A moment later he added, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to burden you with—”

“Your burdens are my burdens,” she replied.

“It’s just a little . . . unnerving at the very least, to come so close to crossing the line between life and death—and seeing someone I love come even closer.”

“You love Stefan very much.”

“I do,” he admitted serenely.

“He is a wonderful boy.”

“I have to wonder what kind of life he will have if he’s being shot at when he’s only seven. What kind of life will any of us have if Horstberg is . . .” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Kathe forced herself to have courage. She could cry later. “You mustn’t worry so, my love,” she said, almost managing a smile. “Be grateful that you and Stefan are both alive. And make the most of the life you have.” She pressed his hand to her heart and looked into his eyes. “We’re alive. We’re together.” She covered his mouth with hers, unable to hold back the desperation she was feeling, wondering if they would ever make it to their wedding day, alive and together. He ran a hand over her hair, holding her in a grip that left her powerless. She gasped as his lips touched her throat.

Kathe felt only too eager for passion to engulf her and make her forget the fear. She became so consumed by the sensations he aroused in her that she was hardly aware of the way he eased her back into the high grass, kissing her like he never had before. Thunder sounded in the distance and startled them both. Erich looked down at her for a long moment, and then he eased away from her and sighed. Kathe felt the ache of sudden separation and grasped his hand as if it might keep him from moving too far.

“Forgive me, Kathe,” he said. “I shouldn’t let myself get so carried away.”

“It’s all right, Erich.” She leaned up on one arm to look down at him. “Or didn’t you notice that you weren’t the only one getting carried away?”

Erich smiled, but not nearly enough to show his dimples. His sadness tugged at her, and she laid her head against his shoulder, wishing she could assuage it somehow.

Thunder sounded again, closer this time. “I think it’s going to rain,” Erich said.

“I hadn’t noticed,” she replied. Their eyes met, and something lurched inside of her at the realization that he had nearly died today.

“I love storms,” she said, looking up at the darkening sky to distract herself from thoughts that were making her insides churn. Sporadic drops of rain began to fall and she added, “But perhaps we should get back.”

Erich eased her closer. “I don’t want to go back. I feel safe here.”

“Have you got any options?”

“If I did, would you love me more?”

“How could I possibly love you more?” She looked into his eyes again, fighting the urge to cry—again.

“I don’t know.” He smiled at last. “But we’ll try it anyway.”

Erich stood and helped Kathe to her feet as he whistled for the horse and it trotted toward him. They both mounted, and Erich galloped toward the high rock wall that rose against the uphill side of the meadow.

“Where are we going?” she asked as the rain worsened.

“I’m giving you an option,” he replied with mischief in his voice. He dismounted and glanced around before he carefully pulled back the thicket to reveal a crevice in the rock. Kathe said nothing as he helped her dismount. He slapped the horse, and it disappeared into the crevice. A fluttery excitement enveloped her as Erich led her carefully through, pausing only to cover the opening from behind. They came to a plateau, mounted the stallion again, and rode a short distance. Kathe was surprised to see the lodge appear, and she wondered what she’d expected. They rode into a little stable across from it and dismounted. Erich removed the horse’s saddle and secured it in a stall. Kathe watched him in silence, feeling somehow as if these moments would become precious in her memory . . . as if the blessing of observing Erich du Woernig doing a simple task would be brief.

The rain was coming down hard as they ran together toward the lodge. He smiled at her before he opened the door and they stepped inside. She was grateful to see that at least he was more relaxed now. Glancing around the common room in which she stood, Kathe immediately loved it.

“Little family secret,” Erich said. “It comes in handy at times. I was saving it for our wedding night.” His smile grew wider. “But necessities do arise.”

“This is where your parents were snowed in together.”

“That’s right.”

“Your mother told me the whole story.”

Erich pulled his boots off, muddy as they were, then bent to unlace Kathe’s shoes and set them aside.

“How gallant you are, my love,” she said, and he smiled up at her. Again her emotions responded, and it took great willpower to hold back the pressure forming in her eyes.

“You are soaking wet, Miss Lokberg.” He took her hand and started up the stairs. “Let’s see if we can find something for you to wear while your clothes dry.”

Kathe caught her breath as they entered the bedroom at the top of the stairs. The minimal furnishings were simple and well chosen. Her eye was drawn first to a cozy window seat, and then to the brass bed. Despite the room’s practicality, it was comfortable and had a warm atmosphere. Erich knelt by a trunk near the bed and opened it.

“There’s a number of odd things in here,” he said. “I’ll let you find something that will work. Let me hurry and build a fire, then I’ll give you some privacy and you can change.”

He went downstairs to find some kindling and matches and returned to see Kathe unwinding her wet hair. While he split kindling with a knife, he couldn’t help glancing at her every few seconds. The passion he’d barely managed to hold back in the meadow rushed forward to taunt him as she moved her hands methodically through her hair to smooth it. He knew he should force any such thoughts away, but at the moment, being distracted by Kathe was the only thing that kept him from thinking about the precariousness of his own life. And Stefan’s.

Erich knelt by the fireplace and forced himself to concentrate long enough to get the fire burning. “I think there’s a hairbrush around here somewhere,” he said.

“I found it, thank you.”

He glanced up to see her pulling it through her hair. She was so beautiful. But something pierced him through as he wondered if their time together would be over in a heartbeat. Clearing his throat in an attempt to clear his head, Erich turned his attention back to the fire.

“Who else knows about this place?” Kathe asked, fighting to maintain some normal conversation, hoping it would appease the rumbling emotions inside her.

“Only my parents . . . and Georg.”

“Not even your sisters?”

“My father brought me here when I came of age. He told me its purpose was for the duke to find refuge and solace. And since this lodge kept him alive for several years, he respects its secrecy and asked me to do the same. Of course the family knows there is a lodge, but they don’t know how to find it.”

“How . . . intriguing,” she said, feeling almost chilled by the significance of this place.

Erich concentrated on the kindling as it began to burn. He carefully placed some larger pieces of wood on the grate and waited for them to take hold of the flames, his thoughts wandering back to the incident with Stefan. He closed his eyes and heard the bullets whizzing past. He felt Stefan’s weakness. And the blood. How could he ever forget all the blood? Then his mind darted to images he’d seen in dreams, as if the messages of the night were meant to somehow prepare him to face the end of his life. The anguish seemed more than he could bear. If he was going to die, why couldn’t he just go without warning like most men? Why did he have to be tormented with premonitions and feelings of dread that wouldn’t relent?

Kathe watched Erich closely as he stoked the fire, wondering where his thoughts might be. When he closed his eyes and anguish filled his countenance, she didn’t have to wonder. Seeing the evidence of his own internal torment, the emotions she’d been fighting to hold back rushed forward. The horror she’d wrestled with since the moment she’d seen Erich covered in blood suddenly overpowered her, tremoring from the deepest part of her into every nerve. Her chest tightened. Her breathing sharpened. She began to shake and wondered how she could avoid drawing attention to herself, which she knew would only upset him further. She was contemplating the distance to the door when Erich looked up at her.

“Kathe. What is it?” he said, moving abruptly toward her.

The concern in his eyes shattered what little self-composure she had left. She gasped as he took hold of her shoulders and looked into her eyes. Her breathing became so sharp that it strangled her voice.

“Kathe,” he demanded with that regal air of his, “whatever is wrong?”

“Someone . . . someone . . .” Just trying to put the words together in her mind intensified her emotion. Everything blurred as her eyes misted over.

“Out with it!” He shook her gently.

“Someone . . . is trying to . . . kill you.”

Erich forced back his own fears and attempted to soothe her. “They didn’t succeed, Kathe. It’s all right.”

“It’s . . . not all right,” she cried, and he could feel her whole body shaking. “Look at me, and . . . tell me . . . that you believe in your heart . . . he will not succeed. Tell me . . . that he . . . won’t . . . prevent you from . . . seeing another year.” She practically shouted, “Tell me!” Her voice softened. “Tell me and I’ll believe you. I’ll believe anything if it will keep you alive.”

Erich looked into her eyes while logic battled with hope. The battle was brief, and hope took its last breath. He wanted with all his heart and soul to tell her what she wanted to hear. But even searching his deepest feelings, he could find nothing to make him believe he would see another year. At the moment, another week seemed a miracle.

“Tell me!” she screamed, startling him from his thoughts. He bowed his head, unable to look at her. Hot tears burned into his eyes, and he squeezed them shut, feeling the moisture sear a trail down his cheeks. He felt Kathe’s trembling hands take hold of his face and lift it to her view. But he couldn’t open his eyes. He knew his eyes would tell her the truth.

Kathe absorbed his expression and the tears on his face. Her heart dropped with a hard thud to the pit of her stomach. The sharpness of her breathing settled into an eerie breathlessness as if a harsh wind were blowing in her face.

“Look at me,” she whispered, but his eyes remained closed. “Look at me!” she ordered in a tone of voice she’d learned from him, a man with natural authority. For a split second she imagined herself a duchess, standing by his side to rule a country. But the image passed quickly. In her heart she knew it would never be. This was all just a fairy tale, a brief escapade of romance and adventure. And there would be no happily ever after.

Erich forced his eyes open. He blinked to release a fresh swell of tears spurred by the anguish in Kathe’s expression. He didn’t have to tell her what he was feeling. She already knew. With urgency, he took her hand from his face and pressed it to his chest, wanting her to feel the evidence of his heart beating.

Kathe heard a sob break the air before she realized it had come from her. Reading the truth in Erich’s eyes, she felt the world crashing down around her. She collapsed under its weight, but Erich caught her in his arms, breaking her fall. She wondered what she might do when he wasn’t there to catch her. She took hold of him and sobbed again.

“We have now, Kathe,” he murmured, touching his face to hers, mingling their tears together. “We have now.”

Through the mist that blurred her vision, Kathe searched frantically for his kiss. His lips met hers with an urgency that soothed her emotions by the way it matched them. Love for love. Anguish for anguish. He shared her life, her heart, her soul. As long as his heart was beating, hers would beat with the same rhythm. She felt her feet come off the floor, and then the bed beneath her. The room spun like a tornado, with Erich at the center in the calm eye of the storm. Anguish turned to ecstasy, fear to elation. Through this tiny slice of forever, he was hers, she was his, and the world couldn’t come between them. She knew it wasn’t right. She knew there were risks. But something bigger and deeper took hold of her senses, making her believe there might never be another opportunity to be with him this way. She needed him now, before anyone had another chance to steal his life and the power it represented.

Kathe looked into Erich’s eyes, in awe of the reality. This man who loved her was a prince. He had the ability to hold a country in the palm of his hands. His very being spoke of majesty. His power showed in his eyes. Yet his touch was gentle, and his commitment to her complete. He loved her. She knew it even when he didn’t say it. At such moments, she could feel his power dissipate behind a soft, genuine love that shone in his eyes, uninhibited and full of life.

For Erich, the experience was so perfectly ethereal that he believed heaven was a place where he could be with Kathe forever. The love they shared was so intense, so complete, he found it possible to believe that it could transcend the limitations of this worldly existence, where death had the power to come between them. Even the precariousness of his life took on a different perspective, knowing the full measure of her love. He’d never imagined any earthly experience could be so stirring.

“I love you, Kathe,” Erich cried, so grateful to have lived until now, if only to partake of this moment. He loved her as if there were no tomorrow, then held her as if eternity lay before them.

Long after it was over, neither of them spoke, as if words would only bring them too close to reality. The only sound that broke the stillness was the beating of rain on the roof, and an occasional crackling from the fire. Erich lay staring at the ceiling, Kathe’s head against his shoulder. His mind sorted through the evidence of all that threatened himself and his loved ones. Then he forced his thoughts to the present. Here, with Kathe in his arms, they were safe, and the reality of his fears seemed distant. He began to wish they could stay here forever, and then his mind wandered into a desire to just take her and leave Horstberg. He had the money. They could run away together and be safe from the threats against his life. But at what price? Could he ever turn his back on everything he’d been raised to be? The more he thought about it, the more he realized it wasn’t an easy question to answer. At one time he would have unwaveringly said that nothing would make him turn his back on his country. But that was before Kathe. His love for her had changed his perspective, and the dilemma pounding in his head almost provoked physical pain.

As his thoughts became more disturbing, he was relieved to hear Kathe’s soft voice break the silence. While she idly moved her fingers over his chest, she sang perfectly the little song he had taught her.

I know a place where snow falls white

That’s where I long to be,

Where castle turrets strike moonlight

And shine where I can see.

I’ve known my love on mountains high

Where meadows bloom in blue;

I know my love is there for me,

I know that love is true.

There is a place where snow falls deep

And warmth is near the hearth.

Deep in my sweetheart’s dreams I sleep

There’s comfort in this warmth.

The world is cold and brash outside,

I fear what it imparts,

But I know my love is here with me

A fire burns in my heart.

Erich felt tears leak into his hair as she finished. “That’s incredible,” he whispered. “My father wrote that song before I was born, and yet it’s as if he wrote it for us . . . now.”

“Perhaps your father felt very much the same way at the time.”

A new perspective settled into him as he contemplated the idea. At this moment, it wasn’t difficult to imagine Cameron du Woernig living in this lodge, banished from the world, wanted for a crime he didn’t commit, while his brother ruled Horstberg very badly. What kind of turmoil had he endured, alone here for three years? And then Abbi had come into his life. Erich had heard the story countless times of the way Abbi had changed him, given him the courage and conviction he needed to face his responsibilities. Cameron du Woernig could have taken Abbi and run away where no one would ever find them. But he had stayed. He had fought for what he believed in. He had honored the blood in his veins. And Erich would do no less. Not in spite of Kathe, but because of her. He would fight with everything inside him to keep Horstberg safe and free, with whatever life was left in him. Nothing would ever be right if he willingly turned his back on his country. He could never be at peace.

With purpose, he eased Kathe closer. He was still afraid of what awaited him in the valley below, but he was no longer confused. Without even realizing it, she had reminded him of who and what he was. He turned slightly to look into her eyes, and a moment later she pressed his hand over her heart. “Can you feel it, Erich?” she asked. “Can you feel the fire in my heart?”

“I feel it,” he murmured.

“Whatever happens,” she said, touching his face as if to memorize his features completely, “it will burn forever.”

Erich sighed and pulled her close, wondering how he could feel so much joy when the prospect of the future seemed to hold nothing but despair. As if to answer his silent plea, Kathe spoke close to his ear in a hushed voice. “No matter what we might feel or believe, Erich, we must do everything we can to stay safe and be together. Perhaps we might be given a miracle yet.”

Erich looked into her eyes again, marveling over the hope she gave him. If nothing else, the intimacy they’d shared made him determined to fight for a life with her, and for her—if such a thing was possible.

“Erich,” she said, lifting up on one elbow, “is this not where your life began?”

He touched her face. “Yes, I believe it is.”

“Well, if Cameron du Woernig overcame his obstacles in order to have a life with Abbi, surely you can do the same.”

Erich pulled her closer. “I’m not so sure I have the courage and determination my father had. Sometimes I wonder if my life has been too easy in some respects. I’m only grateful that I have my father at my side. I believe he and Georg are capable of working miracles. And Han’s not terribly stupid either.”

“Then we have nothing to worry about. Our lives are in capable hands.”

“So they are,” he agreed. He rummaged his fingers through her hair and pressed his lips to her brow.

“Erich,” she said again, “what if there are . . . results . . . from this?”

“My dear Katherine, we will be married before there is time enough to know.”

Kathe hugged him tightly. “That’s a nice thought.”

They drifted to sleep while the rain persisted on and off outside. Kathe’s next awareness was of Erich jolting awake with a gasp.

“Are you all right?” she asked through the darkness.

At the sound of Kathe’s voice, Erich relaxed and took a deep breath. “I was . . . dreaming,” he finally answered.

“The same dream?” she asked, trying not to sound upset.

“Actually, no.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, pressing his head into his hands. “This was different.”

Kathe sat behind him, wrapping her arms around his chest, laying her head against his back, taking care to avoid touching him where he was wounded. “Tell me,” she urged gently.

Erich took another deep breath, attempting to calm his quickened heart. “I could see

you . . . but you seemed . . . distant. I touched you, but you didn’t respond. You seemed terribly upset, and I tried to comfort you, but it didn’t do any good. It’s like I was there—but I wasn’t. And that’s it. It was more the way it made me feel. It was as if I’d lost you—but not really. Temporarily perhaps.”

“As long as it’s temporary,” she said lightly, hoping to ease his anxiety.

Erich turned and pulled her into his arms. “I don’t want to lose you, Kathe,” he whispered. “I would die without you.”

“No,” she said, “I would die without you. I firmly believe that if I lost you, I would die of a broken heart.”

She laughed softly, but Erich didn’t see any humor in it. And looking into her eyes, he knew she was only trying to appease his own fears. With urgency, he kissed her. The trauma of the day seeped into it. But she answered it with comfort, and he could do nothing but kiss her again.

Kathe immersed herself in his love once more, forcing herself to ignore the possibility that they might never have this opportunity again.

It was nearly midnight when Erich got Kathe home. He returned to the castle expecting everyone to be asleep, but he’d barely come in when his parents erupted from the main drawing room.

“Where in heaven’s name have you been?” Cameron shouted while Abbi put her arms around Erich as if she’d feared never seeing him again.

“I had to get away,” he stated, not the least bit apologetically. “I left a note for you so you wouldn’t—”

“I know what the note said. But for the love of heaven, Erich, you nearly got killed this morning,” Cameron shouted louder. “And you go off gallivanting through the forest? Your mother has been sick with worry. I think you owe her an apology.”

Erich nodded firmly.

“See to it,” Cameron added and walked away.

Erich was silent until his father had gone. “He has a lot on his shoulders right now,” he said to his mother.

“Yes,” she agreed, still holding him tightly.

“Forgive me, Mother.” He returned her embrace firmly. “My intention was not to worry you.”

“I know. It’s all right. Actually, I think your father was more worried than I was. I knew you needed to be with Kathe.” She drew back to look at him. “You were with Kathe?”

Erich nodded, hoping she didn’t sense the change in him. As if she’d read his mind, she added, “You seem more . . . at ease. It would seem your time with her was well spent.”

Erich nodded again. “She has a way of helping me put things in perspective.”

“I dare say she was terribly upset.”

“Yes, but . . . even though she’s terrified, she smiles and gives me hope.”

“She has a great deal of courage, I believe,” Abbi said.

“Not unlike you,” he added warmly.

“If she’s like me,” Abbi chuckled softly, “she’s crying into her pillow right now.”

“You may be right.”

“I’m glad you found her when you did, Erich.”

“So am I. I only hope we’ll have a future together. I pray this doesn’t get worse before it gets better.”

“And what does Kathe have to say about that?”

Erich looked directly at his mother. “She reminds me that I’m a man who believes in miracles.”

“And do you?” Abbi smiled.

“Yes,” he admitted, “I would have to say there are many miracles in our lives, but . . .” He glanced away, feeling the same old doubts rush in to squelch his hope.

“But?” Abbi pressed.

Erich looked into his mother’s eyes, wondering if he should tell her his deepest fears. He settled for simply saying, “Perhaps some miracles just aren’t meant to be.”

Erich recognized the emotion in her eyes. He’d seen it there before. It was as if she felt the same foreboding that he did. But she was equally reluctant to admit it.

“How is Stefan?” he asked, knowing there was nothing more to be said otherwise.

“Mostly sleeping, which is just as well for the time being.”

Erich nodded. “I’ll see him in the morning. I’d better get some sleep.”

“You’ve had a long day,” Abbi said and squeezed his hand.

Walking slowly toward his room, Erich contemplated the circumstances all over again. But his thoughts quickly strayed to Kathe. He felt an inner ecstasy to recall the intimacy they’d shared. And that alone strengthened his resolve. He would do everything in his power to make it through this and remain alive!

Maggie lay close to her son in the darkness, playing idly with his thick, rusty hair while he slept. The night dragged incessantly and she couldn’t even force herself to not worry. And the child moving within her made it nearly impossible to relax. Somewhere in the middle of the night, Han came in quietly and sat beside her.

“I woke up and you were still gone.”

“I didn’t want to leave him alone,” she whispered.

Han bent to kiss her brow. “How are you feeling?”

“About the same.”

He pressed his hand over her rounded belly and smiled. “You get more beautiful all the time.”

“I don’t know how I could possibly be comely in this condition.”

“Oh, but you are,” he whispered. “You go through so much to bear my children. And it makes you all the more beautiful.”

Maggie’s eyes filled with tears, and she turned them toward Stefan. “I would die to lose him, Han,” she muttered.

“We won’t lose him,” Han assured her. His eyes too rested on his son, and his expression filled with love and pride. “He will grow up tall and strong and make us very proud.”

“He’s such a good boy,” Maggie added, touching his peaked face. She turned to Han. “He is so much like you.”

Han chuckled. “I didn’t think he was at all like me.”

“To others it might not be obvious.” She smiled. “But I can see you in him. Every now and then it comes through. How could I help but love him?”

Han squeezed Maggie’s hand and eased onto the bed beside her. With a lamp burning, they both drifted to sleep and awoke when Stefan began to stir. Expectantly, they watched him come awake in the lamplight. A quick glance at the clock told them it was just past four in the morning.

“Mama,” Stefan whispered, and Maggie took his hand.

“I’m here, my darling.”

“How are you feeling?” Han asked.

“Papa. My leg hurts.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Han replied.

“How do you feel other than that?” Maggie asked.

Stefan stretched and yawned, then proclaimed, “I’m hungry.”

Han and Maggie laughed and embraced, knowing he would be fine.

“I’ll go see if I can find you something to eat.” Han came to his feet and stretched with a noisy yawn. Before he reached the door, they heard an explosive noise—not loud, but distinct.

“Erich,” Maggie gasped as Han shot out the door.

Erich found it impossible to sleep as his mind became absorbed in the hours he’d spent with Kathe. He missed her dreadfully already, but he indulged in the memories of all they’d shared, longing for them to be married. Against his will, his thoughts wandered into his fears. He tried to convince himself that things were not as bad as they appeared, but he knew in his heart they were worse. He only had to think of Stefan’s present condition to fully grasp how bad it could get.

When his thoughts began to get the better of him, he got out of bed, deciding to read, if only for a distraction. He moved through the dark to the table by the window, where he knew there was a lamp. The glass chimney felt dirty—almost greasy—as he removed it, and he wondered if the maids were getting lazy. As he struck the match and set it to the wick, he inhaled a vague, strange odor. Working with chemicals had made him especially tuned to smells, and it only took a split second to know that something wasn’t right. Instinctively, he bounded across the room and dove to the floor on the opposite side of the bed, at the same time inwardly scolding himself for being so paranoid. A moment later, the lamp exploded, spraying shattered glass and oil.

With his arms over his head, Erich briefly contemplated the sound of glass breaking in a recurring dream, and the following explosion. Had that dream just saved his life? A chill rushed over his back.

“Thank you, God,” he muttered, realizing he wasn’t harmed. He looked tentatively over the bed to assess the damages, and his already-racing heart jumped into his throat. The table where the lamp had been sitting had crumbled, and everything within several feet of it was disheveled or broken. The drapes and some of the debris were on fire, but the shattered glass prevented him from getting too close without first putting something on his feet. As he crossed the room, attempting to beat the fire out, he tried to imagine where all that broken glass would have gone if he’d been standing over the lamp when it had blown up.

He was startled but relieved when Han threw open the door. “What happened?” he demanded. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine!” Erich shouted. “Don’t get too close. There’s glass on the floor. Get some water!”

By the time Maggie appeared in the doorway, they had the fire out.

“What in heaven’s name . . .” she gasped.

Erich slumped onto the bed and pressed his head into his hands. “The lamp blew up,” he said.

“Blew up?” she shrieked.

“It’s a miracle you’re in one piece,” Han said, looking around himself at the damage.

Erich sighed and willed his heart to slow down. “I’ve been hearing that quite a bit lately.”

“I’m going to get Father, and—”

“No,” Erich interrupted his sister firmly. “Let them sleep. Their room is too far away for them to have heard the blast. Everything’s all right.” He glanced around the room. “I wonder what other little surprises are waiting for me in here.”

“Maybe you should sleep elsewhere for the time being,” Han suggested.

“I think maybe you’re right,” Erich said, but the fear hovering inside him didn’t go away when he closed the door to his room and left it behind. He attempted to sleep in one of the guest rooms but knew it was futile. As soon as he knew his parents would be awake, he got dressed and went to their room, knocking lightly at the door.

“Good morning,” his mother said, pulling it open as she tied a wrapper around her waist. Seeing his expression, her brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” Cameron came behind her, buttoning his shirt.

“There’s something I need to show you,” he stated.

They walked together to the wing where Erich slept, saying little between them. Methodically, he opened the door to his room and motioned them inside. Abbi gasped and put a hand over her mouth. Cameron erupted with a breathy, “What the . . .?”

“The lamp blew up,” he explained. “I thought I could smell something unusual just as I lit the wick. I don’t know if it was instinct . . . or paranoia . . . or what . . . but I moved away fast and the thing just . . . blew.”

“It’s a miracle you’re alive,” Cameron said.

Erich sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Yes, but . . . how many miracles is one man entitled to?” He met his mother’s eyes and felt chilled by the blatant fear he saw there. It seemed so out of character for her that he wondered again if she knew something he didn’t; something she’d dreamt perhaps. He wanted to ask, but a deeper part of him just didn’t want to know.