heart’s true desire. No doubt she thought she was with Konrad. And why wasn’t she?
I wanted to kiss and caress her. It would have been so easy: She was mere inches before me, her long hair spilling over the lace of her nightgown. I leaned hungrily closer, but stopped myself with a moan. I could not take such liberty with her sleeping body, as alluring as it was.
She made a soft sound in her throat, like a cat’s purr, and for a moment I swore her eyes looked right into mine. She lifted her hand and stroked my hair, then let her fingers run down my cheek and neck.
I felt myself weaken. I had to do something, or I would not be able to resist temptation. I slowly got up. Her eyes followed me.
“Elizabeth,” I said calmly, walking around to her side of the bed. “It’s time to go.”
Obediently she pushed herself into sitting, and I tried not to look at the flash of her exposed thighs before her sleeping fingers modestly adjusted her hem.
“Come.” I stretched out my hand.
She took it. I felt like a hypnotist. She would do whatever I asked her.
Elizabeth, touch me. Kiss me. Tell me you love me.
I ground my teeth in frustration. She came willingly as I led her to the door. I opened it and furtively peered into the hall, listening. The thought of being seen made me shiver. We walked down the corridor to her bedchamber. Inside, I led her to her own bed. I straightened her churned sheets.
“It’s time to get some sleep,” I said.
I pressed down lightly on her shoulders, and she sat.
“Lie down,” I said.
She lay down, but took hold of my hand, smiling up at me with that same tantalizing smile. But it was given to me only in the confusion of her sleeping mind, and was meant for Konrad.
I gently pried her fingers off mine.
“Good night, Elizabeth.”
Her head sank down into her pillow. Her eyes closed.
I gave a great sigh and turned. At the doorway she said something that made my step falter, my heart skip a beat. Sleepily she murmured, “Good night, Victor.”
At breakfast Elizabeth gave no sign of remembering her nocturnal wanderings. She talked cheerfully with all of us, and with every second it seemed more and more impossible that she’d ever come to my bed, stroked my face.
It had taken me a long time to get back to sleep. I’d been unable to find a comfortable position. As I’d finally started to drift off, I’d felt her weight and heat against me once more-and I’d turned eagerly to find it was truly my imagination this time.
She’d said my name. Did that mean she’d known-or some part of her had known-where she was and what she was doing? Could it mean she had meant to come to my room, and not Konrad’s?
I could ask her-but how? At the very least she’d be embarrassed; at the worst, furious with me, for no doubt she would think I’d made up the whole scandalous thing.
I looked at her across the dining table, and she smiled at me-a friendly, sisterly smile, without even a glimmering of remembrance. She was so radiant and full of beauty that I could barely swallow my food.
That night, after dinner, I emerged on the balcony to find her leaning against the balustrade, watching the sun sink toward the mountains.
“The last night of our imprisonment,” I said.
She looked over, somewhat surprised, for no doubt she’d been expecting Konrad. I had intercepted him on his way, and had told him that Father wanted him to check on the horses and inquire after the pregnant mare from the head groom.
“The two weeks have gone quickly enough,” she said, and turned her eyes back to the mountains.
I had no gift for pretty talk, but I’d prepared some lines, thanks to Henry’s poetry-and I was emboldened too by the fact that Elizabeth, unbeknownst to her, had shared my bed the night before.
“Your beauty makes the sunset itself pause,” I said, “so it can behold you but a second longer.”
She turned to me, her eyes wide.
“But you are the brighter of the two,” I said. “Around you I feel like a moth, and it’s all I can do to avoid your fire.”
She laughed, her hand rising to cover her mouth.
“Have I said something funny?” I asked, annoyed.
Elizabeth bit her lips, then composed herself. “No, no, it’s very sweet, thank you. It’s just that, well, it’s not the kind of language I’m used to hearing you speak, Victor.”
“Perhaps there are certain talents I keep hidden,” I said, raising my eyebrows mysteriously.
“Difficult to believe. Have you been reading poetry?”
“The words are my own,” I said, only half lying. Damn these poetical scribblings-even if they’d been scripted for me, I had no tongue to say them.
“They’re very fine,” she said. “But better saved for someone else.”
“They’d be wasted, then,” I said. “Like, like-” I tried to think of something poetic. “Like pearls tossed at pigs.”
“‘Swine,’ I think, is the expression you’re looking for. Pearls before swine.”
“Oh, to hell with pretty words-since you only mean to mock me.”
“No, indeed, ‘pig’ is very expressive,” she said, “and an excellent description of a fellow who flirts with his brother’s beloved.”
“Ah. I did not realize you were already his property.” I knew this would anger her, for my mother had always taught us that women were the equal of men and shouldn’t be treated like possessions.
I got the exact reaction I wanted. Her eyes flared. “No one owns me, Victor, except me. Well,” she added, a little contritely, “God owns me, as he does all His creations, but no human shall ever own me.”
“Oh, I know, I know,” I said, as dismissively as I could, “you always like to make your own choices. So why not give yourself a little choice in this matter?”
“I already have, and you should respect my decision. Now you should go.”
She looked over my shoulder worriedly, no doubt afraid Konrad would appear.
“Oh, he won’t be coming for some time,” I said. “I sent him on an errand.”
“That was mean of you.”
“Yes.” The light burnished her amber hair, and I went to her, grabbed her shoulders, and kissed her on the mouth. She pushed me away and slapped me, hard.
“Don’t ever,” she said, wildcat fury in her eyes.
“You like it when I kiss you,” I said, knowing no such thing.
She turned her back on me. “You bite,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Admit it,” I said recklessly. “You don’t even have to say yes, just nod your head. Go on, be honest!”
I watched the back of her head, waiting and hoping. She might have been a statue.
“What you are doing is very wrong, Victor,” she said.
“What about that old saying, ‘All’s fair in love and war’?”
“You do not love me!”
“Don’t tell me what I feel,” I said angrily. “When you don’t even know what you feel yourself.”
She turned on me, angry but also curious. “What are you talking about?”
There was a moment when I might have kept her secret, but I was too inflamed. “You come to my bedchamber at night,” I whispered.
Her face flushed. “That is a vile thing to say.”
“You sleepwalk, Elizabeth. You know you do. You did it as a child. And twice this summer you’ve done it again. And each time you’ve come to my room.”
She looked at me warily, not sure if I was telling the truth.
“The first time you held your old doll, the one with the red braids. You thought she was a baby, and she wasn’t dead, just cold, and you wanted to warm her.”
Her gaze left mine, and a memory seemed to scud across her mind.
“You remember such dreams, don’t you?” I said.
