Her Unforgettable Royal Lover(43)
Dom agreed that it was probably better to check out of the gasthaus and head back to Budapest after going up to the castle. “But first, we’ll eat. I guarantee you’ve never tasted anything like Lisel’s bauernfrühstück.”
“Which is?”
“Her version of a German-Austrian-Hungarian farmer’s breakfast.”
Their hostess gave them a cheerful smile when they appeared in the dining room and waved them to a table. She was serving two other diners, locals by the looks of them, and called across the room.
“Frühstück, ja?”
“Ja,” Dom called back as he and Natalie helped themselves to the coffee and fresh juice set out on an elaborately carved hutch.
A short time later Lisel delivered her special. Natalie gaped at the platter-size omelette bursting with fried potatoes, onions, leeks, ham and pungent Munster cheese. The Hungarian input came from the pulpy, stewed tomatoes flavored with red peppers and the inevitable paprika.
When their hostess returned with a basket of freshly baked rolls and a crock of homemade elderberry jam, she lingered long enough to knuckle Dom’s shoulder affectionately.
“So you leave us today?”
His mouth full, Dom nodded.
“You must come again soon.” The blonde’s amethyst eyes twinkled as she included his companion in the invitation. “You, as well. You and Dominic found the bed in my front room comfortable, yes?”
Natalie could feel heat rushing into her cheeks but had to laugh. “Very comfortable.”
* * *
With a respectable portion of her gargantuan breakfast disposed of and the innkeeper’s warm farewells to speed them on their way, Natalie’s spirits rose with every twist and turn of the road that snaked up to the mountain pass. Something had drawn her to the ruins dominating the skyline ahead. She felt it in her bones, in the excitement bubbling through her veins. Impatience had her straining against her seat belt as Dom turned off the main road onto the single lane that led to what was left of Karlenburgh Castle.
The lane had once been paved but over the years frost heaves had buckled the asphalt and weeds now sprouted in the cracks. The weedy approach took nothing away from the dramatic aspect of the ruins, however. They rose from a base of solid granite, looking as though they’d been carved from the mountain itself. To the west was a breath-stealing vista of the snow-covered Austrian Alps. To the east, a series of stair-stepping terraces that must once have contained gardens, vineyards and orchards. The terraces ended abruptly in a sheer drop to the valley below.
Natalie’s heart was pounding by the time Dom pulled up a few yards from the outer wall. The wind slapped her in the face when she got out of the car and knifed through the rugby shirt.
“Here, put this on.”
Dom held up the jacket he’d retrieved from the backseat. She slid her arms into the sleeves and wrapped its warmth around her gratefully.
“Watch your step,” he warned as they approached a gap in the outer ring of rubble. “A massive portcullis used to guard this gate, but the Soviets claimed the iron for scrap—along with everything else of any value. Then,” he said, his voice grim, “they set charges and destroyed the castle itself as a warning to other Hungarians foolish enough to join the uprising.”
Someone had cleared a path through the rubble of the outer bailey. “My grandfather,” Dom explained, “with help from some locals.”
Grasping her elbow to guide her over the rough spots, he pointed out the charred timbers and crumpled walls of the dairy, what had been the kitchens in earlier centuries, and the stables-turned-carriage house and garage.
Another gate led to what would have been the inner courtyard. The rubble was too dense here to penetrate but she could see the outline of the original structure in the tumbled walls. The only remaining turret jutted up like a broken tooth, its roof blown and stone staircase exposed to the sky. Natalie hooked her arm through Dom’s and let her gaze roam the desolation while he described the castle he himself had seen only in drawings and family photographs.
“Karlenburgh wasn’t as large as some border fortresses of the same era. Only thirty-six rooms originally, including the armory, the great hall and the duke and duchess’s chambers. Successive generations of St. Sebastians installed modern conveniences like indoor plumbing and electric lights, but for comfort and luxury the family usually wintered in their palazzos on the Italian Riviera or the Dalmatian Coast.” A smile lightened his somber expression. “My grandfather had a photo of him and his cousin dunking each other in the Mediterranean. They were very close as children, he and the last Grand Duke.”