Letters in the Grove Page 13

  Victor paced across the gardens. The purposeful stride reminded Berend of a caged animal. The man was upset. Thwarted plans didn’t sit well with a man of action.

  “Berend, is it time?”

  “Nay, Herr Wulf. The sun must rise before their time is up.”

  Victor threw a glove to the ground and stomped it with his booted foot. He picked it up, and slapped it upon his thigh. “What is wrong with this world? Logic demands one thing, yet we do another. The only way to make the woman speak is through brute force. Her husband will do nothing more than protect her.”

  Berend nodded. Adjusting his breeches, he studied his surroundings. He was the only one in the garden with Herr Wulf. The secondary entrance to the dungeon was only a few feet in front of them.

  “Berend, tell me, when you fought the bear, what did it feel like? Was it a rush of power or did fear overwhelm you? Did you wet your breeches?”

  Berend ignored the last question and answered the first. “It was like fighting a man, only one much larger.”

  “Ah! I do not believe you. A bear is a mindless beast and man has use of his wits.”

  “Aye, this is true. But a mother bear is an entirely different story. Her future rests on her cubs and she is not about to let anyone near them.”

  “I see. And the rush? Did your blood soar through your veins? Did your heart feel as if it would explode from your chest?”

  “If I say, aye, I would be lying. Truth to tell, I didn’t stand and fight. I fell to my knees, lifted my head, and shouted out a prayer to the heavens.”

  “And?” Victor waited his eyes wide.

  Berend grinned. “The beast struck me. Turns out when I kneeled I pinned her cub to the ground with my foot.”

  Victor laughed. “Aye, you must watch that in the future.”

  Berend nodded and stared at the door.

  “You do not approve of my extraction methods?” asked Victor.

  “It is not for me to approve or disapprove.”

  “Ah, so you have sympathy for her?”

  “Aye,” Berend replied.

  “Do not. I assure you she has no sympathy for you. If she and her kind had it their way then everyone would be Lutheran.” Victor spat on the ground.

  “Aye, if they believe that is the only way to heaven, I guess they would want us all that way. As we believe they should all follow the Holy Roman Emperor and his bishops to find the way.”

  “Humph. I see you are a very introspective man.”

  Berend didn’t respond and Victor stroked the petals of a nearby flower. "So soft and silky, like the skin of a newborn babe.”

  “Do you have children, Herr Wulf?”

  Victor waved the question away. “Nay and I don’t intend to. Children bring sorrow.”

  Berend didn’t agree. Children were arrows in a man’s quiver. They were a blessing to every family. One of these days he would return home and start his own.

  A roving guard entered the garden. “Herr Victor, all is well?”

  “Aye, all is well here. How about the rest of the grounds? Has anyone attempted to enter?”

  “Nay. I think this time we will have our answers.”

  Victor’s maniacal smile caused Berend’s heart rate to increase. Why was it that some factions within a religion refused to let others thrive? Not all Catholics believed as Herr Wulf and Herr Raeder. Some were content to live in a peaceful existence with Protestant brothers while others were content only to wipe them from the face of the earth.

  Helga entered the garden. The sway of her hips drew his attention and he sucked in a sharp breath. The waning sunlight made her hair glow. His pulse throbbed against his neck.

  “Herr Wulf?”

  Victor spun. A look of lust crossed his features. “Aye, Helga.”

  “You are needed inside. The cook would like you to sample tonight’s main dish.”

  Victor nodded. “Wait on me and we shall walk together.”

  Helga winked and turned to wait.

  “Berend, I leave the garden in your capable hands. Do not let me down.”

  “Aye, Herr Wulf.”

  When the guard, Victor, and Helga moved away, Berend breathed a heavy sigh and prepared himself for what he had to do.

  ****

  “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “I know. It seems so odd. Who would be suspicious of me? I’m so plain.”

  He’d tried to pull the information she was hiding to the forefront, but she kept changing the subject. He studied her. “You have never been plain, my love. The issue at hand speaks of something completely different. What could have made them believe the letters you were sending me are letters concerning their interests?” Gustav leaned against the wall and rubbed his forehead, praying silently she would admit the truth to him.

  Teresa shrugged and her eyes twinkled. “You know that while I was in court several men asked to paint me.”

  “Scandalous.” The word came out breathless.

  She slinked toward him, a droopy smile rested on her face and he fought the urge to shake her and encourage her to be serious.

  With one delicate finger, she traced his jawline. “I decided to follow in my husband’s footsteps. Thriving on scandal must run in the family.”

  Gustav moved away and ran his hands through his hair. He must keep his mind clear. He couldn’t allow Teresa to distract him, even for a moment. He’d racked his brain to find an answer to their problem. Herr Raeder thought she’d placed letters against his movement in the grove. This was for only two reasons, because she had or because when she passed their love letters she was mistaken for another. The only way to protect her was to discover the truth.

  He dropped his head in his hands.

  “I’m sorry, Gustav.”

  “What?” he asked, as he lifted his chin and gazed at her.

  “I’ve always been proud to call you husband. I only wanted you to be proud of me. I tried my best to be a decent wife while you were gone. I tried to keep everything in working order.”

  Gustav grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her hard. When they pulled apart they both gasped for air. Her chest rose and fell against his and his pulse increased.

  “I am proud to call you my wife.”

  A flush stole over her cheeks.

  Picking her up in his arms, he cradled her against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his neck. He carried her to the bed and she stretched out. He sat beside her and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. Tears slipped from the corner of her eyes and he kissed them away.

  “Cherie, do not weep. I am here. We will fight this together.”

  She sobbed and he gathered her into his arms and settled her in his lap. Stroking her long hair, he whispered words of love and encouragement in several different languages.

  The wracking sobs no longer jerked at her body, now it was raucous laughter. “Since when did you learn that?”

  “You mean Gaelic?”

  She nodded.

  “I learned it on my last adventure. I was ordered to find a spy that was traveling to Scotland and picking up messages, so I thought it might come in handy. Do you like it?”

  Teresa nodded. “Tell me more.”

  Gustav told her of his travels as he worked to undress her. Bared to her chemise, Gustav laid beside her and—

  “Open up! We don’t have much time.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Father, will they find us?”

  His father patted him on the shoulder. “Nay, Hans, Herr Raeder and Herr Wulf will not find us. We will continue to France, where we will meet up with Teresa and Gustav.”

  Hans sulked. He couldn’t suppress his worry. Word of the lost horses and mangled carriage had reached their ears right before they departed Augsburg. Hans had begged to return for his aunt and uncle, but his parents had refused.

  “It is too dangerous to be associated with them at the moment. Gustav will find a way out. I promise you.” His father had turned away and Hans knew his ide
a had been dismissed.

  Hans had disagreed but was overruled. Every town they stopped in Hans would ask questions about couples traveling that way. His mother had requested that he stop. She feared the questions would draw undue attention to Gustav and Teresa, but Hans didn’t care. He continued the search, only now he made sure his parents were unaware of his efforts.

  The weather was moderately warm as they entered the next town on their journey. Traveling along Germany’s coast to reach the coast of France had been his mother’s idea. The route was longer and should give Gustav and Teresa the days they needed to catch up; thus they would reach Caen at the same time.

  Now they waited in a coastal town not far from Caen. Hans stared at the rippling water. Ships hovered in the distance. Sailors rowed small boats to shore, bringing in goods and supplies.

  Along the trip his father had spoken fondly of Admiral Gaspard de Coligny. The man had provided coin to fund Huguenot colonies all around the globe. One in Brazil and plans for another somewhere else in the Americas had been discussed on numerous occasions.

  There were rumors that the Huguenots had taken to the waters. As battles occurred on land they also raged on the high seas. Huguenots had even taken ships and fought the Spanish for control of Havana.

  What would it be like to ride the waves beside his French brothers and fight for religious freedom? Would it be like he imagined? Exciting but daunting?

  Hans lay back and stared at the blue sky. Fanciful dreams of hero worship floated through his mind. There would be women who adored him. His father would be proud of him. His mother would call his name with reverence.

  “Hey boy, what are ye doing?”

  Alert, he rose. The sound of the harsh voice caused a shudder to run down his spine. “Aye?”

  “I said what are ye doing?”

  “I’m enjoying the sunshine. And what are you doing?” he asked, lifting his chin in defiance.

  A man of modest height and build stood above him. A long black beard reached the middle of his chest, an eye patch covered his left eye. Deep scars ran the gamut of his face. Bent over in laughter he held his ample sides. “I’ll give ye this, ye have courage, although I don’t think ye are too smart. Leastways, talkin’ to me thusly might not be in yer best interest.”

  Hans stood to his full height and straightened his shoulders. “Why would that be so?”

  “Because I’m a pirate. And I take what I wish when I wish it. If I decide to take ye, then I will have ye.”

  “I see. And do you wish to have me aboard your vessel?”

  The bearded rotund man scratched his scraggly beard. “Hmm, ye be a might spare compared to me other lads, but ye might do. I bet ye don’t eat much.”

  His feathers bristled, he puffed out his chest. “I eat my fair share.”

  The pirate poked his chest. “The better question is can ye work? Bein’ on the high seas is a stressful situation, to be sure.”

  “I thought you weren’t giving me a choice. As a pirate you were set to take me if you pleased.”

  “Aye, that is the way of it. As I look at ye, not an easy thing to do with just one eye, I see a boy fit for sailin’. Are ye hankerin’ for the sea, boy?”

  Hans shrugged. “Aye, I might be.”

  “Then run about and tell yer family while I sell my wares. Don’t take overly long. I won’t be waitin’ for ye.”

  Hans couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face as he hustled to the inn where his parents rested. Yet the closer he drew to his destination, the more worried he became. He slowed his pace. How could he even think about leaving with someone he’d just met?

  Why, he didn’t know if the man he’d spoken to was a pirate that stole from the crown or stole for it. The fellow might be honorable or he might not. At least he hadn’t taken off with him without agreement.

  Maybe he should ask his parents’ permission, as the pirate suggested. But what if they denied him the opportunity? He had just returned to them. Was it wrong for him to want to leave so quickly?

  In truth it might have gone smoother if the pirate had kidnapped him. He would have been like St. Patrick, taken from his homeland and deposited in a foreign country, finding release, and then returning of his own accord. He would have loved the sea even if taken under duress. And his parents would have been none the wiser as to his desire.

  Slowing his pace to that of a turtle, he entered the quiet inn. Guests were either in their rooms or on the streets.

  The door to his parents’ room was cracked. He peeked inside while holding his breath.

  “Max, something is not right. Gustav should have sent word. We discussed the plan ad nauseam for a reason. We come to the shore and wait on his word and then we continue on. That is why we take the longer route.”

  “Aye, I know.” His father paced the room, running his hand through his graying hair.

  “We should return.”

  “Nay, Olga. We will wait here a few days more. Then I will travel on to Caen. If all is well I will send word and Hans can bring you and the children along.”

  Hans leaned against the wall. Lifting his chin, he closed his eyes. They were depending on him. For once in his life his family needed him. He would not desert them now.

  ****

  Teresa’s stomach clenched at the sound of the male voice and she pulled her gown over her exposed frame. Gustav jumped to his feet, his fists raised.

  A huge hulk of a man motioned them forward. “Come, we don’t have much time.”

  “Who are you?” asked Gustav.

  Teresa squinted in the dimming light. The man seemed vaguely familiar. Then it dawned on her. “You are one of Herr Wulf’s men! You gave me food and helped me from my horse.”

  “Aye. I did. I am Berend. I work for the resistance and I’m here to help you escape.”

  “How do we know we can trust you?” asked Gustav, his arms dropping to his sides.

  “This is a good question. But I have one for you. Would I be in the dungeon risking my neck if I had no intention of assisting? Now come. There is no way to know how long Victor will be busy. We must leave now.”

  Teresa pulled her gown over her head. Berend never batted an eye, nor did he look away, and Gustav arched his brow. She had to keep Gustav busy so he wouldn’t realize what Berend had revealed. Now was no time to discuss her part in the resistance movement. She was still struggling with finding a Biblical excuse for her lack of forthcoming.

  Teresa said, “Let’s go.”

  The exit they took was not the one Hans had used and they came through a door that led directly into the garden. They pushed through the full branches of thick foliage. The scent of blooming flowers assailed her and Teresa inhaled.

  Gustav grabbed her arm and dragged her along. Not tripping over her feet became a constant challenge. They exited the garden. Along the perimeter a prepared carriage waited.

  Berend ushered them inside and climbed astride the perch. The coach lurched forward and Teresa fell across Gustav.

  “Are you all right, cherie?”

  Teresa nodded and righted her position. “Where do you think he is taking us?”

  Gustav lifted the heavy curtain. “It appears as if we are headed toward Augsburg.”

  Groaning internally, Teresa leaned her head back against the cushion.

  “Do not worry, engel. This is the most logical direction.”

  “How can you be so calm?” She sat straighter.

  Grasping her hand, he pulled it to his lips. His brown eyes grew dark. “We are together and unharmed.”

  A tear glided along her cheek and dropped onto her lap. Arresting her hand from Gustav’s grip, she turned to stare at the part in the curtains, praying Gustav would not ask more questions. She would tell him of her part in the resistance movement, but not yet. The less he knew the better off he would be.

  The sights behind the curtain were barely visible. With her imagination she filled in the rest. The buildings, the people, everything one woul
d normally see in the fair city of Augsburg. It seemed the city was trying to hold fast to her. Every time she considered leaving, something drew her back.

  The rhythmic sound of the horse hooves lulled her. Her eyelids drooped and sleep overcame her.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Gustav kept his worries to himself. There was no need to have everyone upset. The countryside sped by as Berend deftly guided the coach through the city and to the outskirts.

  By now Olga and Max were at the rendezvous point. They had never discussed this event. Gustav was supposed to reach Caen first and send word to his sister at the coastal inn that everything was secure. Words spoken before the journey were meant to lead others to believe that Olga and Max would arrive first, but that was the ruse. Never tell your exact plans. The idea had worked in the past but not this time.

  Because he and Teresa hadn’t made it to France Max and Olga would start worrying, then they would make other arrangements. He needed to anticipate their next move.

  Traveling to the coast to meet them would be too risky. Continuation on their previous course would allow others to follow too quickly. They needed an entirely new plan.

  The wheels bumped along the rutted road. Teresa laid her head against his shoulder. Drool escaped the corner of her mouth. His lips twitched into the semblance of a grin, but quickly drooped into a frown.

  Berend’s presence as their rescuer proved that Teresa had indeed lied to him about her connection with the religious underground movement in Augsburg. His wife was in over her head. Why had she not told him? Why did she continue to hide the truth from him?

  The stopping of the horses alerted him.

  The door jerked open and Berend peered inside. “We must move.”

  Teresa rubbed sleep from her eyes. “What? What are we doing now?”

  Gustav helped his wife out of the carriage. Three horses waited beneath a tree. They appeared fed and well-rested.

  “Where did those come from?” asked Gustav.

  “A friend of the cause delivered them. Now we must hurry. A message will be taken to the grove in a few hours. It will alert Herr Raeder to our escape route.”