candle, but each time the candles were dipped, it formed another thin layer of wax.
Her hands were red from touching the hot wax. Gabe imagined how rough and callused her hands would be if he were to turn them over and examine them. The hands of a servant, not a noblewoman.
Again, he wondered if the old woman had told the truth.Was Sophie actually the daughter of Duke Baldewin? For some inexplicable reason, he believed it.
Abruptly, Sophie stopped her work and looked around shrewdly, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “Duchess Ermengard doesn’t like strangers. She is not a person to trifle with. You should leave while you have the chance.”
“Don’t I look like a man who can take care of himself?” He smiled and lifted his eyebrows at her in a way that always made young maidens blush and giggle.
But Sophie placed her hand on her hip, cocked her head to the side, and said, “I am not seduced by your
charm
” — she said the word as if it were a disease — “and flirting. You’re lying about who you are. I’m no fool, and neither is Duchess Ermengard, so if you are wise you will leave now.”
He may not have charmed her, but he was beguiled by her flashing blue eyes and lovely face. He tried again to make himself look humble, then took a different approach. “You are obviously a maiden not to be trifled with. I was hoping to ask the duchess for work. I can play the lute and sing.” He patted the bag that was slung over his shoulder, out of which protruded the handle of what Sophie assumed was a lute.
“Oh no. That is not a good idea.” She looked over her shoulder and shuddered.
“Why not?”
“Walther already told you — the duchess doesn’t like music or musicians.”
“It’s hard to imagine someone who doesn’t like music.”
Sophie shrugged. “Strange, but it is indeed true.”
He’d finished his wine and set the tankard down on the ground.
“So you are leaving now? You should not tarry.”
Her eyes became hopeful, anticipating his imminent departure. Was she really that concerned? Or did she only want toget rid of him? Sophie had no idea she was the whole reason he was here. Not that he would tell her yet. He had to focus on his next course of action — finding out if Sophie truly was the duke’s daughter and learning why the duchess was keeping her existence a secret.
He stepped toward her until they were face-to-face, only an arm’s length from each other. He lowered his voice. “Do you know who your parents were?”
She narrowed her eyes, obviously suspicious. “Why do you ask about my parents?”
He was as subtle as an ox. But perhaps it was better to go ahead and tell her the truth. “Did you know a woman named Pinnosa?”
“I know only one Pinnosa, and she died a few weeks ago. She was buried beside her husband in the churchyard.”
“Was she a servant here in the duchess’s castle?”
Sophie stood silent and unmoving. Finally, in a soft voice, she answered, “Yes. She helped Petra, our cook, in the kitchen.” Her expression turned defensive. “What do you know about me? About Pinnosa?”
“She told me you were in danger.”
“Ridiculous. She’s dead, and you’re the one who’s in danger.”
Why was she being so stubborn? He was here to rescue her. The least she could do was give him a chance to prove himself. “Is it so strange that I would come here to help you?”
She looked him straight in the eye. “Yes.”
“You’re the one who’s being ridiculous.”
“Am I? I’m a servant, while you are clearly not from Hohendorf and are lying about being a poor pilgrim.” She sneered when she said those last two words. “Now you tell me a dead woman told you I was in danger.”
This was not going as he’d hoped. He needed to gain her trust, and he’d done just the opposite. But she was not evengiving him a chance. She didn’t even appreciate his smiles and attention. Why was this girl so distrustful? Well, she wanted the truth. He’d give