Red Magic

  Red Magic

  By

  Juliette Waldron

  ISBN: 978-1-927111-73-4

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Books We Love Ltd.

  (Electronic Book Publishers)

  192 Lakeside

  Greens Drive Chestermere, Alberta, T1X 1C2

  Canada

  Copyright 2011 by Juliet Waldron

  Cover art by Michelle Lee Copyright 2011

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book

  Chapter One

  "Ha! See her coming out of the pines over there?" Christoph von Hagen, his hazel eyes narrowing, lifted a muscular arm to point. "Just as I thought. She went through the rocky thicket south of von Beiler's woods. Now she's angling this way, the crafty vixen."

  The red Arabian mare with the taffy colored tail had begun a wild gallop across the pasture. The breakneck daring left no doubt that a superbly confident rider was astride.

  It was a game, a game played by young aristocrats, a wild and dangerous game of Fox and Hounds. Several 'foxes', given a head start, must reach the safety of a goal, riding across rough country, while the 'hounds', rode after them in hot pursuit.

  The well-to-do players wagered among themselves on every possible outcome, but the prize for any fox who escaped was the largest, particularly because it so rarely happened. Today escape was to be rewarded with a spirited yearling colt.

  "But," the speaker went on, a wry smile on his handsome face, "no one will ever catch that whirlwind of hers on the flats."

  Christoph von Hagen and his cousin Max had ridden fast, intent upon getting ahead of the hunt and setting an ambush for the last uncaught 'fox' at a steep hill just before the goal. Sitting easily on a powerful bay, Christoph was an Austrian nobleman in his middle twenties. He was tall, erect, and, under the fine tailoring of his elegant clothes, muscular. His dark, curly hair was captured in a black queue ribbon, and his large eyes flashed with intelligence and humor.

  Along with an exceptional body, men and women alike agreed that von Hagen was good looking. Men described his face as "open" or "forthright." The praise of the women was a good deal warmer, tending towards the classical. "Like some pagan god" was the phrase most frequently whispered behind fluttering fans at the valley's parties.

  Von Hagen's companion shaded his eyes with his hand, trying to get a better look at the horse blazing across the flower dotted green below. His more ordinary blonde good looks were diminished by proximity to the dark handsome giant.

  "Hers? A female? Riding like that?" Fox and Hounds was considered too dangerous for the gentler sex. And wasn't this fox astride? Astride and wearing trousers?

  "The Devil," the smaller man abruptly exclaimed. He'd answered his own question. "It's Caterina von Velsen and her red Moroccan."

  "And you know how well that rascal rides." Christoph said with a broad grin. "Besides, there's not a horse around that can catch that mare of hers over the flat, not even my Brandy." One strong hand gave his mount's glossy, sweating neck a pat.

  "We've got to get her, Max. Right now."

  As if he understood the urgency, the bay stallion reared. In the next instant horse and rider were plunging down the hill, showering earth and green grass behind.

  "Christoph," called his companion, hurriedly spurring after. "The dike! You can't go that way!"

  If von Hagen heard, he paid no attention. The big bay, black mane and tail flying, continued on course straight towards a lethal looking heap of broken stone. It would have to be taken in one leap, for landing atop it, would certainly break the horse's legs. No one had risked his mount across von Beiler's dike in a generation. Max could hardly believe Christoph would. Cousin von Hagen's horse was a rare Prussian, bred in the stables of the warrior Elector Frederick, and worth a small fortune.

  As he came parallel to the dike, Max reined in to watch the impossible. First came the gathering of the powerful burnished hindquarters of the Prussian, then the breathtaking leap as the bay tucked up his high black stockings and rose skyward.

  Max gave a whoop as giant horse and rider flew over the murderous pile with all the elan of a bird of prey. The clean landing on the other side led at once to a resumption of the same regular hoof beat thunder, a relentless charge. Giving another sportsman's cheer, Max kicked and used his whip, beginning a hasty circumnavigation of the dike.

  As he rode forward, he could see the hurtling fox—Caterina von Velsen—speeding on a parallel course. Her mare was fully extended, never more than one foot on the ground. The girl's hat, which she'd worn to hide her hair, had blown off and now her thick braid writhed like a red snake behind her.

  More riders, a troop, boomed over the hill. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, Caterina knew that of two foxes, she must be the only one left.

  There was a momentary flash of triumph. The yearling would be hers, and how proud Papa would be!

  On the other side of the willow banked river she could see the beginnings of the manicured grounds attached to the von Beiler's Schloss. Anticipating the bridge—the goal, the ground on the other side—Caterina's gaze swung ahead. That was when she saw a rider coming towards her from an impossible direction, the other side of the insurmountable stone dike.

  "Gottesblut!" Cursing was unladylike, but it was precisely what she felt. She had at once recognized the big Prussian bay and his equally imposing rider.

  Christoph! The only one with the horse, the skill and the guts to try it…

  Both horses thundered towards the bridge. For a moment it looked as if they would meet head on. Caterina reined her red mare hard. An impossibly sharp turn later, horse and rider plunged off the high bank, landing with a huge splash in the river.

  It was deep here, perhaps deeper than Caterina expected, for it had been awhile since she'd been hunting around von Beiler's. Her mount came up swimming. Swollen by a recent rain, the water was rushing, carrying them swiftly downstream beneath the bridge.

  "Come on, Star," she urged, grasping the mare's flowing mane. The bank was lower on the goal side; the water was shallower. It would be easy to get up. She could still win.

  As horse and rider swept beneath the bridge, there was a drum roll of hooves above and then an overwhelming deluge. Caterina was still blind and gasping when a man's big hand came out of the water and seized her braid.

  "Got you! Got you, Fraulein Fox."

  "Ow! Let me go! You cheat!"

  Furious, struggling with him in the water, she let go of the horse and began to lash at him with her riding crop.

  "Hey! Foxes don't carry those," he cried, wrenching it out of her hand. "And I didn't cheat. Brandy jumped the dike fair and square." Firmly putting one big hand on the top of Caterina's red head, he dunked her.

  In the meantime, the mare had continued her push to the bank. When Cat came up again, choking and sputtering, the first thing she saw was Star scrambling out, her flaxen tail a darkened, dripping tatter.

  Christoph, so tall, soon found the bottom as well. With an arm around his coughing quarry, he breasted the water. In another few minutes, he dumped Cat unceremoniously onto the bank.

  "Bully! You didn't have to drown me."

  Grinning, von Hagen threw his considerable length onto the grass beside her. He was equally sodden, but his expression was one of complacent satisfaction.

  "You hit me with your crop, so I defended myself. Don't be a poor sport, Caterina. You were a clever fox, absolutely the best I've ever chased."

/>   "Why did you have to come back from Vienna? And what are you going to do now that you're here, tell Wili more lies and then let her down again?"

  "Scratch, scratch, fierce cousin Cat." Christoph pinched her nose. "You know your sweet sister always forgives me. Some day you'll fall in love yourself and then you'll be some fellow's pretty toy too, Stork Legs."

  "Smug. Selfish!" She launched a swing at him. "I'll never be anyone's toy!"

  Taking advantage of aspects of the situation which Caterina's innocence overlooked, von Hagen rolled onto his back and allowed her to get astride. Then he lay there, laughing as he warded off her slaps, whooping whenever she landed one.

  As he teased, riders were pounding over the bridge, a whole crowd piling in, out of breath from the wild pursuit.

  "Did the fox cross the water?" The question—for gulden and hunting dogs and dueling pistols were at stake—was asked repeatedly and anxiously as each new arrival clattered across the bridge. "No, the fox was caught by her red hair as she swam," said Max von Beiler, who'd come around the dike just in time to see the watery drama of Caterina's capture.

  "A female fox?"

  "Well, 'female' is debatable. It's cousin Cat."

  "Damn. I should have known. Valkyrie and that red Moroccan."

  "And so the red fox's papa owes me five gulden!"

  "Me too!"

  Caterina, overhearing, stopped hitting the laughing Christoph, jumped to her feet and shook a dripping fist.

  "I'm a better rider than all of you chicken hearts. If this lunatic hadn't jumped the dike, I would have won."

  This set off a renewed flurry of excitement. The late arrivals hadn't seen Christoph's feat.

  "He jumped the dike? Jesus, Mary and Joseph!"

  "What a risk to take with the Prussian!"

  "Cousin Chris doesn't take risks." Max gave his opinion. "He knew he could do it."

  Debate was immediate. Had it been insanity or luck? Had it been horse power, the expertise of the rider, or both? Ignored now, Caterina stood, water streaming off her. She was red headed and tall. Her eyes, green as bottle glass, blazed with fury. What would have been fair skin if she'd been a more conventionally house-bound female was lightly tanned and dusted with tiny golden freckles. Her budding womanliness was shown off to advantage by a man's riding habit, jacket, shirt and knee breeches, all of it plastered to her willowy frame.

  Christoph, who had been admiring her, decided to remind her of his presence. Seizing one of her long legs, he tumbled her down again.

  "By God," he cried, strong arms locking around her, "Come here, Coz. I'd like to teach you to kiss as well as you ride."

  Howls of laughter erupted from the onlookers as Christoph wrestled Caterina close. The whole time he kept whispering that one little kiss wouldn't hurt, that "Your sister won't mind." Arms locked against his formidable chest, resisting with all her might, Caterina thought that Christoph was just doing what he always did-seeing how far he could get.

  As they tussled, witty encouragement was shouted from the bridge.

  "Give the skinny tomboy a lesson."

  "Just what our hell Caterina needs."

  "Yes!" Max was laughing. "Kisses, a wedding and babies. Then I won't have to worry that she's going to show up on that winged steed of hers and lose me my wagers."

  "Swine!" Somehow she was managing to keep him away. "Especially you, Christoph von Hagen. Let me go!"

  "As you wish, Fraulein von Velsen." Just as suddenly as he'd started, he released her. Still, there was that unbearable smile, those bright eyes flashing amusement.

  "Hey, little cuz, don't you know that a woman who sits down on top of a fellow runs a risk he might get the wrong idea about what she's after?"

  "By the Blessed Mother!" Cat protested, reddening and angrily beginning to pummel Christoph again. "Your mouth! I'm a lady!"

  "Then ACT like one!" The roar came from her half brother, Theo, who'd just ridden up. His square face red, he leapt off his horse and caught Cat by the back of the jacket, yanked her onto her feet and then gave her a tremendous shove in the direction of Star, who had calmly settled down to cropping the grass a few feet away from the arms-and-legs turmoil on the ground. "GET HOME!"

  Theo was short and burly, nothing like his elegantly proportioned half sister. Seizing her again, he dragged her to her horse and gave her such an angry boost to the saddle that he practically tossed her over. To Theo, Cat's riding astride and all the rest of her tom boy stuff was a never ending source of embarrassment.

  Muddy chin held high, Caterina reined Star briskly around and headed towards the gray stone manor. In a moment she'd risen to a perfectly seated canter, wet red braid bouncing on her back.

  * * *

  As she approached the gray stone Schloss on the hill, her heart was heavy, sinking with every rocking stride of the sorrel beneath her. Not only had she been ignominiously caught by that wretched Christoph, losing the wagers she knew Papa had made, but Mama would have a fit when she saw her. Lady von Velsen thoroughly disapproved of her daughter playing fox and had spent all yesterday afternoon quarreling with Papa about it. What would happen when Mama inevitably found out the rest?

  "There she was, Mama, rolling on the ground like a wild Indian. An absolute disgrace to her sex, not to mention the entire family."

  That would certainly be Theo's version. Cat had a strong premonition that this was the last game of Fox and Hounds she'd ever play.

  In her heart was not only disappointment, not only fear of parental displeasure, but something else just as disturbing. Something to do with her half sister's fiancé, that fellow who thought he was God's-gift-to-women, cousin Christoph.

  It had started in the close up moment when he'd been trying to kiss her. Those brilliant eyes, the brown flecked so beautifully with green, those elegant features, the mouth tempting her, the whispers…

  She knew what her sister, what everybody knew, about Christoph's adventures with women. Up till this instant Cat had always considered herself immune to the young rake's charm. After all, hadn't he been around, in and out of the house, courting her big sister, flirting with the maids, most of her young life? Hadn't they raced their horses, hunted together?

  Hadn't he rudely nicknamed her "Stork Legs" and "Red"? Hadn't he tugged her braids, buried her in hay in the barn, battled with her as if she were a little brother and told her a thousand times to "get lost" when he wanted to kiss and cuddle Wili?

  Now, since this afternoon's wrestling against his hard body, Caterina felt something new, a strange, uncomfortable excitement. She'd tested her strength against his, against a might with which he could have easily overwhelmed her. For some reason, he had pushed her to the limit and then, wearing that wicked, knowing grin, he had let go, had chosen not to take the kiss he'd won.

  The thing that had resulted, the unimaginable thing, was that now she wished he had kissed her. What would it have been like to have that beautiful mouth meet hers? "Damn you, Christoph von Hagen." She began to chant the words aloud, desperately trying to drive the thoughts from her head. "I'm not like all the others. I don't want you to kiss me. I don't. I don't. I don't."

  * * *

  Down by the bridge the young men were passing around a flask of fiery brandy. Theo had ridden off after Caterina, ready to make his complaint to "Madame Mama" about his "wild savage" of a half-sister.

  "I couldn't let on while Theo was here but, by God, I could hardly get up." Christoph confessed with a grin. He sipped from the flask Max had handed him and then passed it to the next man.

  "You unprincipled fellow," said one of the cousins, laughing. "You can't mean that skinny child aroused your interest?"

  "Well, she seems to have aroused something I usually think of as signifying interest," Christoph murmured.

  "Good God! But why?"

  There was a general chuckle of disbelief, but von Hagen, with a mixture of amusement and seriousness replied, "You fellows have no imagination. Here and now I predict that in one
year our leggy gosling cousin Red will become a swan."

  "And there, may I remind you, gentlemen," Max chimed in, "speaks a renowned judge of woman flesh."

  "Well, I think it's just the experience of a wet woman in his arms talking," one of the cousins replied. "Five gulden says that at sixteen Caterina von Velsen will be as skinny and as unremarkable as she is today."

  You're on." Christoph laughed, clasped the challenger's hand. "Next year, mark my words, Caterina von Velsen will take your breath away."

  "Whatever happens, by next year her papa will probably start looking for a husband for her," Max added meditatively. "She's got a nice little dowry, but it's hard to imagine our wild Caterina wedded and with a full belly on. Beauty or not, who among us noble bachelors would be so brave as to marry her?"

  There was a general negative shaking of heads.

  "It seems the Landrat will have to set his lures up north where no one knows her. Munich might just be far enough away," someone jokingly suggested.

  "Well, after the tussle I just had," said von Hagen with a chuckle, "I think that the fellow who takes Red Caterina to wife had better know how to ride like a champion or he'll never have a prayer of staying in the saddle."

  "Ah, but Chris," Max shouted through the following laughter. "I'm afraid that pronouncement disqualifies all of us and leaves you, conqueror of the killer dike, the only possible contender."

  "God defend! Did you see the way she used that crop?"

  "Well, good sir," Max teased, "then you better hurry up and wed gentle Wili. Mark my words, Christoph von Hagen, it's the only way to save yourself."

  Continuing to joke and relive the various adventures of the hunt, the cousins mounted their horses once more. Making excuses for their poor showing and making new wagers, they began a lively trot towards the ivy covered Schloss on the hill.

  Christoph was a preoccupied, half hearted participant. In order to stay out of trouble with his elders, he knew he'd have to spend the next few days keeping his fiancé close company. Wili von Velsen was a sweet creature, not exciting or clever, but pretty enough and reassuringly in love with him. He was fond of Wili, so it was no hardship to spend a few weeks going through the motions of courting her. Of course, at first she'd be sulky about how long he'd stayed in Vienna, but he was confident he could soon charm her out of that.