Page 45 of Heart of Snow
I cleared my throat. “I know a little of hunting myself. Shooting, anyway. I haven’t yet practiced with game.”
“Is that so?” He twisted to face me, leaning his elbow on the table as he looked me over. “I’d be happy to educate you.”
I started to decline, but another kick from Belinda had me nodding my begrudging consent.
“The countess would be so grateful to you,” she said. “But we must not presume upon the good count’s generosity.” She peeked at Father through her lashes, and he froze with his spoon halfway to his mouth.
“Oh, certainly.” He lowered the spoon to its bowl. “I would take great pleasure in having you hunt my lands. In fact, I’ll take you out myself, and we can make a day of it.” It seemed Father was employing Belinda’s logic, making friends with his enemy to tip the scales a bit in his favor.
“If the countess comes, I am happy to accept.” Carrera bowed his head.
Belinda kicked me again, and this time I responded by grinding her toe under my heel. She sucked in a sharp breath while I gave her my most innocent smile. It was small retribution for the way she’d lectured me after French lessons with Friedrich, accusing me of losing my heart to him. I’d assured Belinda that her fears were wholly unfounded.
Entirely.
My eyes flitted to the servants’ table, where I spotted Friedrich’s dark head bowed over his bowl. Yes, I felt warmer and lighter whenever I was with him. Yes, I looked forward to our lessons, storing up things to tell him, eager for the next time I could talk with him. But that needn’t be more than friendship.
Friedrich lifted his chin, and I braced myself to meet his gaze, but he only turned toward the woman beside him, his lips parting in one of his scarce, bright smiles. When she gave him a playful elbow to his arm, my eyes narrowed, focusing on the back of her head to see if it was Ilsa.
“Whom do you study?”
Carrera’s voice made me jump, and I quickly laughed to cover my embarrassment. “No one.”
“But you do.” He lowered his head by mine and murmured, “You bear the look of a jealous woman. A woman grown up since our first meeting.”
My cheeks burned, and I floundered for something to say, but Carrera didn’t wait for an answer. His hand found mine beneath the table, caressing my fingers as he whispered, “Perhaps I can cure you of your jealousy.”
Panic tumbled in my gut, and I fought the urge to push his hand away, settling for a subtle scoot of my chair while leaning out of his reach. It was enough that he didn’t pursue, but he turned back to his meal with a grin that proved him not the slightest bit deterred. I’d need help undoing whatever it was I’d done.
I turned to Belinda, but she was looking past me, a shy smile curving her lips as she seemed to be gazing at my father.
“Belinda,” I said, and she lowered her eyes, a rare blush coloring her cheeks. “Why do you smile so?”
She shook her head. “Something amusing, that is all. You were too distracted with Carrera to notice.”
“Distracted?” I could barely keep my voice at a whisper. “He was seconds away from abandoning all propriety.”
Belinda choked on her wine, wiping her lips with the tablecloth and fighting a smile. “Lively, isn’t he? Don’t fret yourself too much over him; I’ll help you keep the dog on his leash.”
“Very well.” I nodded. “See that you do.”
Chapter 20
Friedrich
The hounds strained against theirleashes as we waited for the signal from the hunting horns. The hunters were more relaxed. Count von Waldeck sat on his horse, fiddling with his gloves as he and Mistress Hatzfeld engaged in a quiet conversation. Carrera lounged in the grass, his attention entirely on Margaretha, and mine on every word he spoke to her.
“You said you had some experience hunting. Do you practice falconry?”
“Something closer to Bercletti, but without a dog. Or prey.” Her tone was almost apologetic.
“Bercletti? And no prey?” He laughed. “What, have you been shooting hand bows at hay butts?”
Margaretha looked past him, giving me a pointed stare. “Something like that.”
“How very primitive. I can see youdoneed me to educate you.” He jumped up and turned to Ulrich. “You there, bring me that crossbow.”
Waiting with outstretched arms, Carrera’s hands flapped impatiently until Ulrich set the bow in them. He looped the cranequin’s rope over the back. “Though I still prefer my spear and sword, I know these are gaining favor in Par Force hunting. For men, at least. I won’t pretend to know the trends of the ladies.”
