The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(32)

He moved closer, his cane thumping as he walked.

“Forgive us for interrupting your work, Lord Thornbeck,” Lady Magdalen said, “but I saw Lady Dorothea reading this book and wanted to ask you if I could borrow it.” Magdalen smiled at him.

“Why did you not ask Lady Dorothea?” He wore his usual stern look.

“Oh, I . . .”

“I have finished it,” Avelina spoke up, “and before I returned it she wanted to ask if she might borrow it.”

“You may.”

“Thank you.”

There was silence, then Lord Thornbeck locked eyes with Avelina. “Would you like another book? Shall I make suggestions?”

“Oh yes, of course. Lady Magdalen and I both like to read. What do you suggest for us?”

“This Book of Hours belonged to my mother.”

He pulled a large book off the shelf and handed it to Avelina.

“And there is a Psalter here that the Duke of Pomerania gave to me. I have another Psalter that I read from. But perhaps you brought yours with you?” He peered down at her.

“I did not.”

He took the book and laid it in Avelina’s arms on top of the Book of Hours. “But if you prefer more books like The Song of Roland”—he searched the shelf and pulled out a smaller book—“you might like this one. It is The Song of the Nibelungs.”

Avelina had read Dorothea’s copy of the Book of Hours as well as her Psalter, but she had long wanted to read The Song of the Nibelungs. She bit her lip. Magdalen and Lord Thornbeck should be talking to each other. This was not at all the way she had planned this to go.

They were both looking at Avelina. She had to say something. “Magdalen and I will enjoy reading these.”

The margrave fixed first one, then the other, with an intense look. “Would you two like to go for a picnic? Winter will soon be upon us and we should enjoy the mild weather while we can.”

They both seemed to be waiting for Avelina to answer. “Of course, we would be pleased to accept your invitation.”

“I shall have some servants come along with us, to ensure safety and propriety. And you may also bring your own servants if you wish.”

A few moments later Avelina found herself carrying three books while walking back upstairs to change into sturdier clothing suitable for a picnic. Magdalen whispered, “Do you think he will invite the other ladies, or only we two?”

“I don’t know.” She hoped he would invite everyone, and if he didn’t, that Fronicka would not hear of it.

This was what meddling had gotten her. But perhaps it would still turn out well. Perhaps now Lord Thornbeck would get a chance to talk more intimately with Lady Magdalen. Surely he would see what a kind, worthy young woman she was.



Reinhart stood at the bottom of the steps as Odette began to descend with Lady Dorothea and Lady Magdalen and her maidservant following her. Good. No one could accuse him of any impropriety with Lady Magdalen’s dour-faced servant along.

Odette and one of the house servants also came, carrying a large basket of food. Just outside the castle, the stable servants had horses saddled and ready for them and a donkey loaded with supplies.

Soon they were on their way to the place Jorgen had assured him was an excellent spot for a picnic, in a clearing next to a stream. Odette knew the way, so he allowed her to lead.

Dorothea was glancing up at the castle, an anxious look in her eyes. The other ladies often seemed nervous around him, but Dorothea seemed almost afraid.

Dorothea and Magdalen rode side by side on the wide trail. When the trail narrowed, Reinhart ended up between them as they rode singly.

They arrived at the stream and the servants spread out the blankets and cushions for sitting and set out the food. Soon they were all eating and talking about the beauty of the quiet spot in the woods.

“There are still a few leaves on the trees,” Lady Magdalen said.

“Which do you like better, autumn or spring?” he asked Lady Magdalen, but he was watching Lady Dorothea out of the corner of his eye.

“I think I prefer autumn. I love the brilliant colors of the leaves.” Lady Magdalen took a bite of bread and cheese while propped and leaning back on her other hand, her legs drawn up beside her.

Lady Dorothea was seated similarly. She said nothing, so he asked her, “And you, Lady Dorothea?”

“Oh, I prefer spring.”

“And why is that?”

Now she got that familiar look on her face, her hands curling in her lap as she drew her legs tighter toward herself, and she wouldn’t look him in the eye. “As Lady Magdalen said, the leaves in autumn are beautiful, but spring holds the promise of new life and warmer weather.”

He asked Lady Magdalen about her family, her mother and siblings. She spoke of her mother, her deceased father, and her younger siblings. As Magdalen spoke, Lady Dorothea’s shoulders relaxed slightly, her hands uncurled, and she leaned on one hand while eating a bread roll.

He asked Lady Magdalen more questions. As long as she talked, Lady Dorothea nodded and looked at ease.

He finally turned his attention to Lady Dorothea. “Tell me about your family, Lady Dorothea.”

“Oh, there isn’t much to tell.” She kept her gaze down and brushed off her skirt. “My father . . . he is consumed with . . . his responsibilities, and my mother died a few years ago.” She shook her head, a slight movement, and her shoulders were high and tense again. She clasped her hands in her lap and finally said, “I’m sure Lady Magdalen and I would love to hear about your family, Lord Thornbeck.”