The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(31)

Magdalen was a fortunate woman if she married him. She would get to listen to that deep voice and look into those brown eyes for the rest of her life.

She sat up. “Irma.” She went over and moved the heavy chair from in front of Irma’s door. “Irma, get up and help me get dressed and fix my hair.”

Avelina opened the door and Irma threw an arm over her face and groaned. “So high and mighty,” she grumbled. “A week ago you were naught but Lady Dorothea’s servant girl.” Irma lay unmoving.

The scent of strong drink assaulted Avelina’s nose. “What have you been drinking?”

Irma groaned again. “Stop shouting. I’ll be up in a thrice.” Still, she did not move.

“Have you been drinking with that Gerhaws woman again? I do not think she is a good influence on you.”

Avelina got her own gown and began to dress. Then she hurried to Magdalen’s bedchamber and knocked softly on the door.

In less than half an hour, Avelina was hurrying Magdalen down the stairs.

“Remember,” Avelina whispered, “if Lord Thornbeck is in the library, tell him you want to read The Song of Roland and ask him if you may borrow it.”

“Very well, Dorothea, but I do not think it is me Lord Thornbeck is interested in.”

Avelina stopped abruptly and stared at her friend. “What do you mean?”

“You must admit, he did show a lot of interest in you at the ball last night, coming all the way around to the other side of the room to talk to you.”

“Do you mean during the dance? That was only because I was the only one not dancing. He did not want to see me standing alone. He would have done the same for any of the ladies.”

“And if I am not mistaken, he took you aside on the way to the Great Hall so he could sit beside you.”

“Nein, nein, nein. He took me aside because . . .” Avelina glanced around. The corridor was still and silent. There seemed to be no one else nearby. She lowered her voice even more. “Fronicka had told him some gossip about me, and he was asking me if it was true.”

Lady Magdalen gasped. “What kind of gossip? What did she say?”

Avelina probably shouldn’t tell her, but Magdalen would not tell anyone. “He told me that Fronicka said I was with child and the baby belonged to one of my father’s knights. I assured him it was completely false.”

Magdalen shook her head, her eyes wide. “I cannot believe she would say such a thing. She truly is evil to make up a tale like that and tell it to Lord Thornbeck. He believed you, did he not?”

Avelina nodded, a shard of guilt piercing her at allowing Magdalen to think Fronicka had made up the story. “I think he believed me.”

“You should take care. She has seen how he shows you favor, and if she would tell a lie like that to the margrave, she is capable of . . . terrible things.”

“I would not say Lord Thornbeck shows me favor.” Avelina’s stomach sank. Surely it was not true. “He would do the same for any of the ladies.”

“I do not think so.” A little smile graced Magdalen’s lips. “I think he favors you.”

“Truly, Magdalen, I wish you would not say so.” The sinking feeling grew more pronounced. “I cannot marry the margrave.”

“Why not?”

Avelina swallowed and took a deep breath, pressing her hand to her middle. “I wish I could tell you.” Did she dare trust her friend that much? It was not fair to tell her, to force her to keep such a secret. “Please, just believe me when I say that I cannot, nor do I wish to, marry Lord Thornbeck. It has been my intention all along for him to marry you, Magdalen. You are obviously the kindest maiden here, the most discerning, the most intelligent, the most beautiful—”

“Besides you.”

Avelina expelled a breath through her pursed lips. “Nonsense. I am nothing compared to you.”

“How can you say such a thing? Besides, I do not think the margrave would agree with you.” Again, she had the amused smile on her face.

“I beg you not to say that.” Avelina put her hands over her face.

“Very well, I shall not say it.” She chuckled. “Come. You wanted to go to the library.”

Avelina allowed Magdalen to take her hand away from her face, turn her around, and lead her toward the stairs.

They descended and turned away from the ballroom and went down a wide corridor. On either side were doors, some of them open, some closed. They moved past two before coming to the open door of the library. Cautiously they stepped inside.

The room was dark near the door, as the windows on the opposite side faced the west and it was still morning. But at the far side of the room, in the corner surrounded by windows, Lord Thornbeck sat at a desk. He was writing.

He looked up. “Who is there?”

Magdalen grabbed Avelina’s arm, her eyes wide at Lord Thornbeck’s gruff voice. Would he be angry that they were there?

“Forgive us, Lord Thornbeck. It is I, Ava—uhh, Lady Dorothea and Lady Magdalen. We did not mean to dis—”

“Come in.” He took hold of his cane and pushed himself to his feet.

Avelina’s stomach twisted into a knot. Almost calling herself Avelina, coupled with Magdalen’s words about the margrave’s interest in her, sent her heart racing.