The castle ruins loomed before them, massive mounds of toppled stone. There was only one complete wall with a solitary turret left standing.
“I told you the place needed some fixing up,” Helmut joked.
The road took them through what would have been the main gate of the castle. There were huge stones on the ground on either side and the remnants of a staircase that followed the one remaining wall to the parapet.
“We can explore this later if you like, when you’ve eaten and rested.”
“I slept almost the entire drive.” She reached across the mohair seat and grasped his leather-gloved hand. He squeezed it back, hard. “Thank you for this.”
“We haven’t even gotten there yet.”
“I know, but thank you.”
They held hands as the car continued on past the castle ruins and climbed higher still. There was a building, certainly more modern than the castle ruins, but built on an ancient design. It was a lodge with peaked roofs, stucco sides and exposed timber beams.
The Mercedes came to a halt in front of the lodge and a man of sixty, maybe older, came out to greet them. He was wearing a green huntsman jacket and kniebundlederhosen and a worn alpine hat. He pulled a pipe from his mouth and squinted at the automobile. A haggard-looking hound reluctantly came after him and flopped to the ground at his feet.
Aubrey exited the car; she was stiff and sore from the long ride and the ordeal the day before. A hot bath was in order. The count introduced their greeter.
“This is my uncle Reinhardt. Reinhardt, this is a friend of mine, Aubrey Endeavours. He speaks English reluctantly. Don’t you, Reinhardt?”
“Only in the presence of beautiful women.” The man tried to bow deeply, and Aubrey heard his knees crack. His stick-thin legs looked strong, however, and his hands and face were brown from the alpine sun. He was a very handsome man, and she saw a resemblance with the count: the twinkle in his eye, the square jaw, and the full, thick head of hair, though Reinhardt’s had turned silver.
He swept up both of her hands in his exceptionally long but weathered fingers and squeezed them affectionately. Then he lifted one to his dry lips and kissed it. That and a wink from him, and she was smitten with this kindly old man.
“You’ll keep your eyes off her, Reinhardt.”
Reinhardt smiled. “I always knew you’d do the family proud. Welcome, Fraulein Endeavours. I will not promise to cease my attempts to steal you from this scoundrel.” He grabbed her arm and, as if he instinctively knew she’d been through the wringer, he guided her gently up the steps of the Bavarian mansion.
Aubrey liked the kindly Reinhardt immediately and snuggled close to him as he led her through wide wooden doors adorned with metal, medieval studs and into a huge entrance hall.
He led her to a set of double doors at one end of the foyer, which opened into an expansive room with a stone hearth in the centre of it. A blazing fire was crackling away, and Aubrey could feel the oxygen swirling into the room from the open doors to feed the inferno. The hardwood floors were polished to a high gleam and the reflection of the flames danced across them. Above the fire was a polished copper flue that captured the smoke. On the wall were a dozen or more hunting trophies. Aubrey counted lions, African buffalo, American bison and a tiger. A part of her felt sympathy for the animals, but upon closer inspection she discovered they were old, very old. Perhaps the hunting tradition of the count’s family had stopped long ago.
“It’s wonderful, so… Teutonic.”
“It’s old and drafty,” the count said. “I’ve a good mind to tear the entire thing down. I’m never here anyway.”
“Don’t you dare. The view alone is priceless. You can leave it for your children.”
The count lowered his head and looked away, then back at her, and she saw the glint of tears in his eyes. He wiped them away and beckoned her farther into the lodge.
Aubrey chided herself for the careless remark. She hurried after him and was shown to the main bedroom. There was an expansive window that looked out on the mountain range. The side panes were open and cold mountain air filled the room. There was a vent on one wall. She ran her hand over it and felt the soothing heat of the fire. Suddenly, she realized she was exhausted. She sat down on the bed and winced. The scale and breathtaking beauty of the place had only temporarily taken away the pain Aubrey still felt from the attack.
The count came to her. “You’re in pain—you should rest.”
“Good idea. I did not sleep well in the car.”
“I’ll make sure you’re left alone. I’ll wake you later this afternoon for tea. We’ll go for a walk, stretch our legs. This place has a way of making you forget the rest of the world exists.”
“That’s why you can’t tear it down.”
She flopped back on the bed and pulled him on top of her. He offered only token resistance.
“Aubrey, you have been through a lot. I want you to rest.”
“Just one kiss.”
He kissed her passionately and then pulled away and got to his feet. He pulled the warm, coarse blanket over her and went to close the windows, but she told him not to. Within minutes of his leaving, she drifted off.
She woke hours later to find the room in a pale blue darkness from the afternoon sun, which was sinking below the peaks of two distant mountains. The rays danced off the sheets of glacier ice flanking their sides. At first, she did not know where she was. When it finally came to her, she smiled. That smile faded as quickly as it had come when she remembered the events in Berlin. She
