The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(11)

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a group of three young ladies giving her furtive glances and whispering. Her cheeks burned. Were they talking about her old-fashioned clothing? How long must she stand here, conspicuously alone, while no one spoke to her?

Finally, the servant announced, “The most honorable, the Margrave of Thornbeck.”

Everyone faced in the direction of the margrave and curtsied or bowed.

Avelina was almost too afraid to look. When she dared raise her eyes, Lord Thornbeck was staring right at her with a most severe expression. Her heart stopped.

He glanced away and her heart started beating again. Saints above, but he was handsome. His dark eyes pierced her, then moved on to delve into everything else they alighted on. His skin was dark, his chin square and strong, his chest broad and thick, and his cheekbones high. The contrast to his look of power and intensity was his slight limp as he walked with a cane.

She hoped no one could see her hands shaking as the margrave walked to the head of the enormous trestle table and sat down. The other guests gravitated to the long benches, obviously trying to get seats closest to the margrave.

Trying to sit in the least likely place to draw attention, she ended up at the farthest end from the margrave, sitting beside a young maiden wearing a pale-pink gown.

As a squire filled their goblets, the maiden said, “I am Magdalen of Mallin.”

To the friendly tone of Magdalen’s voice, Avelina replied, “I am Dorothea, from Plimmwald.” Even though she had said the correct name, she probably should not have stated it that way. She was not from Plimmwald. She and her father were Plimmwald. Or so everyone was supposed to think.

“That is, I am Lady Dorothea.” Now she sounded proud and presumptuous, since Magdalen had not called herself Lady Magdalen.

“I myself have never been outside Mallin. You shall have to tell me what to do as I am completely inexperienced with parties and balls.”

“I am sure you must know more than I.” Truly, it would be the blind leading the blind if she looked for guidance from Avelina. “I do not even know how to dance. You shall look quite refined and noble beside me, I assure you.”

“If I cannot marry the margrave, my mother is determined to marry me off to the wealthiest person she can find who would want a poverty-stricken baron’s daughter. I was betrothed to an earl’s son, but when they found out I had no inheritance and no dowry, his father had our betrothal annulled.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, it is perfectly well. I had heard he was given to violent tirades and had impregnated two of his house servants. I do not wish to marry someone like that.”

Avelina shook her head and shuddered inwardly.

Another squire came to serve a large pheasant to their section of the table. Truly, Avelina would be eating better than she ever had before, if she was not too nervous to swallow.

“Did you bring anyone with you?” Avelina asked quietly. “I have only my maidservant.”

“I have only my servant as well. I have a younger brother and younger sisters, but they are too young to accompany me.”

“I do not have any brothers or sisters.”

“Oh yes. You shall have a large inheritance. I should think a lot of noblemen would want to marry you.”

“I do not think so. Am I the last guest to arrive?”

Magdalen nodded. “Most of us have been here for a day or more. I can tell you everyone’s names, if you wish.”

“Oh yes, thank you.”

“The girl next to me is Applonia of Hindenberg, and she’s talking to Otilia of Steenbeke. Across from them is Beatrix of Darghun, and next to her, Gertrudt of Wolfberg, a tiny but very wealthy duchy on the north coast, at the Baltic Sea.”

Avelina tapped her chin with her finger. How would she ever remember all these names?

Magdalen named three more young women, all of them clad in silk and embroidered fine linen, their hair immaculate and swept up in sophisticated styles, which Avelina had been able to achieve with Dorothea but was unable to implement on her own hair. Irma, she had discovered, had no skill with dressing hair. So Avelina’s was simply braided down her back and fastened with ribbon.

“Last but not least,” Magdalen said with a slight twist of her lips. “See that girl sitting at the margrave’s right side? That’s Fronicka. Her father is the Duke of Geitbart.” Magdalen leaned over to whisper in Avelina’s ear, “She is determined to marry the margrave and she’s given every other girl here notice that if they try to flirt with him, they will find something horrible in their bed the next night.”

Avelina leaned forward to get a better look at Fronicka. She was smiling at the margrave, looking quite demure and sweet. “Perhaps she was in jest.”

Magdalen raised her brows. “Perhaps.”

The other ladies sitting around the table were also smiling at Lord Thornbeck. All Avelina had to do was stay out of the way and let the other ladies flirt with him.

However, if Fronicka managed to marry Lord Thornbeck, it would mean certain destruction for the Earl of Plimmwald. The margrave would likely help his wife’s father, Geitbart, take over Plimmwald rather than stopping him and defending Plimmwald. The earl would be killed or imprisoned. All the people of Plimmwald, including her father and siblings, would be at Geitbart’s mercy.

She whispered under her breath, “God, be merciful and do not let the margrave choose her.”