The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(25)

“Yes, yes, I know. I know.” Irma waved her hands. “Do not bring about a resurrection of the saints because of it.” She sighed. “I shall be careful not to say anything. The earl threatened me too, you should know.”

Somehow it didn’t seem that difficult to Avelina to keep the secret. She was already feeling less and less deceptive in her role as a lady.

“Irma, do you ever feel . . . as if you should have been a lord’s daughter? I mean, did you ever feel as though you are the same as they are?”

She raised one eyebrow. “Humph! No, and neither should you. Don’t be getting too high and mighty just because Lord Plimmwald was in a well of trouble and had no one else to send in his daughter’s place besides you. Just because you get to wear Lady Plimmwald’s old dresses and strut around like a princess and do nothing all day.” Irma shook her finger at Avelina’s nose. “You’ll be back at Plimmwald Castle soon with the rest of us lowly servants.”

Avelina put her hands on her hips, trying to think of an apt retort. Finally, she turned away and crossed her arms.

She should not have confided in Irma. Perhaps she was getting puffed up, being around earls’ and dukes’ daughters all day, being indulged and treated like a lady. But the truth was, for as long as she had known the daughter of the Earl of Plimmwald was vain and selfish and petty, Avelina had felt that she was no less noble than Lady Dorothea. A person’s heart should be what she was judged by, rather than whose blood ran in her veins. She had told herself she could behave with as much nobility of spirit as any lady she had met so far.

Except for Lady Magdalen. Unlike Avelina, Magdalen was kind and gentle and probably never had a selfish thought in her life.

Magdalen deserved someone wealthy and powerful, and most importantly, she deserved someone kind and good. And though Lord Thornbeck sometimes looked quite severe and frightening, and he had a bad temper at times, he was much better than most other noblemen Magdalen might end up married to. And if Avelina had anything to do with it, Magdalen would end up married to him.



“The truth is,” Avelina told Magdalen the next day, “I cannot dance. I never learned.”

Magdalen stared at her in shock. “How is that possible? Did no one try to teach you?”

“My father never hired a tutor for me.” In the strictest sense, this was true. While Lord Plimmwald had made sure his daughter had learned every dance known to the noble class of the Holy Roman Empire, Avelina’s father told her that her duty was to Lord Plimmwald and his daughter and had never let her go to the festivals with the other peasant girls, where they danced and played games. She should be grateful that she had a place in the earl’s household and did not have to work in a field all day in the sun and rain and mud.

But she couldn’t tell Magdalen that.

“Did your father never hold balls and parties at Plimmwald Castle? Did he not want you to attract the attention of a nobleman who would want to marry you?”

“No.” Avelina shook her head, trying to look innocent. And there had been very few balls and parties for Lady Dorothea either. She had once heard the earl say that he planned to arrange Dorothea’s marriage, and therefore there was no use in holding dances at the castle or sending her elsewhere to balls.

Perhaps that was one reason she ran off with Sir Dietric.

“What if Lord Thornbeck is angry with you for not dancing? You must let me teach you how.” Lady Magdalen looked at her thoughtfully.

“Do you think you can teach me in one afternoon?”

“Perhaps not all the dances, but most of them are simple.” Magdalen explained and demonstrated some of the dances, helping Avelina practice them.

“But how will I know which dance they are dancing?” Avelina asked. “I am certain to make a fool of myself in front of everyone. Besides, I told Lord Thornbeck that I would not dance, and he did not say anything.”

Magdalen merely smiled in her pleasant, calm way. “You will have ever so much more fun if you dance. Come. It is not so difficult. We shall go through the steps again. You can learn these two dances, and if they are dancing something you do not know or recognize, you can say you are tired. But you must dance.”

It did seem as if it would be fun, if she knew what she was doing. So they continued to practice until they were both laughing and out of breath.

Hegatha came into the room, a stern, disapproving look on her face. “Dear Magdalen, you must not tire yourself before the ball tonight.”

“I shall go.” Avelina clasped Magdalen’s hand. “Thank you ever so much.”

“You are most welcome.” She leaned closer and whispered, “I am sorry Hegatha is so rude. You do not have to go.”

“I should go get ready for the ball. Thank you again.”

Avelina hurried down the corridor to her own chamber. It was a bit exciting to think of going to a ball and actually dancing.





10



HE NEVER SHOULD have let Jorgen and Odette talk him into having not one but two dances.

Reinhart stood in the large ballroom at the bottom of the stairs. Already the men were assembled. He had asked several young noblemen to come to the ball so the ladies would have enough partners for the dances.

He couldn’t dance, with his permanent limp and injured ankle. But the ball was another of Jorgen and Odette’s tests, a trial of vanity and pride. They would not have quite enough men for all the ladies to have a partner, so they would be able to observe how each lady dealt with this. Would they vie for partners? Or would they allow another lady to dance by sacrificing a dance or two? Would they compete for the best-looking and wealthiest men with the highest titles, or would they flirt with the margrave?