The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(20)

As she walked beside Lady Magdalen, Avelina asked her if she was well.

“Very well. But will you laugh at me if I admit I miss my sisters and brother, and even my mother?”

“Of course not. If I had a mother, I should miss her, and I miss—” Avelina was about to say she missed her brother and sister too! Her face burned. Then she remembered—Lady Dorothea’s mother was also dead.

“Are you well?” Magdalen studied her.

“Oh yes.” Avelina laughed nervously. “I am very well.”

“Is there anyone you shall miss,” Lady Magdalen lowered her voice to a whisper, “should Lord Thornbeck choose to wed you?”

“I do not think he would ever choose me. But if I must wed someone far away, I suppose I would miss all the familiar faces of home.” She tried to think as Lady Dorothea would. “But I don’t suppose there is anyone I would miss enough to make me sad, as long as I was content with my husband.”

Magdalen looked thoughtful. “Lady Gertrudt has an older brother, the Duke of Wolfberg, who is unmarried and not betrothed to anyone.”

“Is he well looking?”

“We met once as children. I am looking forward to seeing him again at the first ball. He is coming so the ladies will have enough partners.”

As the stable boys were helping the other young ladies find their horses, Magdalen said, “May I tell you a secret? You must promise not to tell.”

“I will not tell.”

“Mother says if I don’t marry Lord Thornbeck, she may try to betroth me to the Duke of Wolfberg. His father died a few years ago and he is the only son. Although it is quite unlikely he would accept me, since I have no real fortune to bring to the marriage.”

Avelina did not have a chance to discuss the young man any further, because the stable boys approached with their two horses. The other young ladies were already mounted, and Lady Fronicka was talking to Lord Thornbeck. The margrave, who rode a large black horse, gave orders to four of his men, who were apparently accompanying them.

By the time Avelina and Magdalen had mounted their horses, most of the rest of the group had already started on the winding road that led down through the forest to the town.

Avelina’s horse suddenly began snorting and sidestepping.

“Is everything all right?” Magdalen asked.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her.” Avelina hung on to the reins and tried not to lose her balance. “I rode her all the way here from Plimmwald. She was very gentle.”

Wasn’t anyone noticing what was happening? The two guards who were supposed to bring up the rear were talking to each other and laughing. Should she call for help? Should she pull back on the reins or give the horse slack? What was wrong with her uncooperative horse?

Her horse screamed and raised her front legs in the air. Avelina clutched the mare’s mane, trying desperately not to fall off.

“Someone help!” Magdalen called. “Help us!”

Two stable boys ran toward them and tried to grab the reins, but Avelina’s horse pawed the air with her powerful hooves. The boys could not get close enough to reach the reins.

Avelina was losing her balance. Her grip on the horse was slipping, even as she was slipping from the saddle.

Suddenly Lord Thornbeck rode straight up beside her and grabbed the reins. “Hold on to me!”

While Lord Thornbeck forcefully pulled back on the reins and leaned on the horse’s neck, Avelina clutched Lord Thornbeck’s shoulders. His arm encircled her waist as he lifted her out of the saddle. He held her tight against his side until the stable workers were able to take the reins. Then he lowered her.

Her feet touched the ground and her knees crumpled.





8



MAGDALEN DISMOUNTED AND hurried to Avelina’s side. “Are you hurt?”

Avelina leaned on her arm. “No, I am well.” She was breathing hard and shaking.

“Hans,” Lord Thornbeck ordered, “check this horse. Check the bit and the bridle, then check the saddle. You”—he pointed to the second stable boy—“saddle the brown mare with the one white leg for Lady Dorothea.”

The margrave turned toward her. Their eyes met. His expression softened. But she was very fanciful, her father often told her. She was probably imagining it.

“My lord, here is the problem.” The stable boy, Hans, held up two large shards of pottery with sharp edges and points. “They were under the saddle.”

“How did those get there?” Lord Thornbeck’s expression was thunderous.

“I don’t know, my lord.”

“Someone knows. Who saddled this horse?” The margrave shouted, glaring at any stable boy who was foolish enough to meet his eye. “I demand to know who saddled this horse. When I find out who put these sharp pieces of pottery under this saddle, I shall have him beaten and placed in the pillory in the town square.”

An older man, possibly the stable master, came toward them.

“See that you find out who is responsible.” Lord Thornbeck held out his hand and the boy gave him the shards. “I will not tolerate such shoddy supervision. If I find you have been negligent, you shall be punished and sent away.”

The stable master looked quite ashamed as he bowed his head before Lord Thornbeck. “Forgive me, my lord. I shall do my best to discover who did this.”