The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(48)

Avelina refused to meet Lord Thornbeck’s gaze.

She pasted on a smile, even when she saw Fronicka smirking up at her. Her father, the Duke of Geitbart, stood beside her, not looking at anyone in particular, his gaze darting around the room.

She smiled and greeted everyone who came near her, but it was as if there was a fog over her eyes and ears, dulling everything. The music was indistinct and a mist lay over the beautiful people and their beautiful clothing. Her legs were weighted down with the same dullness and she didn’t think she could dance. And yet, she did not want to draw attention to herself as she had at the last ball. Lord Thornbeck himself had come to her side so she would not have to stand alone.

But tonight there were more people, parents and guardians who would be escorting their daughters home in the next few days. Perhaps she could hide amongst them.

Lord Thornbeck suddenly appeared in front of her. He took her hand and bowed over it and kissed it so quickly she did not realize he was going to do it until it was done. His brown eyes were piercing as they stared straight into hers. “Are you well?”

“Yes, of course.” She blinked, hard, to rid herself of the dullness.

Lord Thornbeck looked very handsome. He seemed to have burned away the mist, with his bright-blue outer tunic and white sleeves, his thick dark hair combed across his forehead.

He squeezed her hand before letting it go. “You look beautiful, Lady Dorothea.”

Truly, she should blurt out the truth to him right now, at this moment.

She glanced around for Lady Magdalen. She was standing just behind her. Avelina stepped back to join her. Lord Thornbeck took the hint and greeted Magdalen, but he did not kiss her hand.

People seemed to be crowding around them, wanting to speak to Lord Thornbeck, so Avelina hurried away, farther into the room, her breath suddenly coming faster.

A few moments later Magdalen caught up with her.

“Dorothea, why did you run away? Lord Thornbeck wanted to speak to you.” Magdalen chewed on her lip, a look of concern in her eyes. “Don’t you like Lord Thornbeck?” she whispered close to her ear.

Avelina studied her friend’s expression. “What do you mean? Of course . . . I-I like him very much. Who wouldn’t? But that is certainly not important—”

“Stop saying things like that!” Magdalen shook her head and looked as if she might laugh.

Avelina’s face burned. A rock seemed to settle in the pit of her stomach.

“Magdalen, I have to tell you something. I should have told you already, and I can’t go another—”

She turned to face the Duke of Wolfberg.

“Good evening, Lady Magdalen. Lady Dorothea.” He nodded to them both.

The music started. The Duke of Wolfberg asked Magdalen to dance, and with an anxious glance at Avelina, she moved with him to the middle of the floor, along with many of the other guests. But there was still a cluster of people around Lord Thornbeck.

One of the young nobles from the first ball approached Avelina and asked her to dance. Since she was familiar with this dance, she agreed. It was much easier to forget what was looming ahead of her while she was forced to concentrate on the steps and on what her partner was saying to her. But always in the back of her mind was Lord Thornbeck, in his blue outer tunic, looking very handsome, and soon to be a distant memory.

For now, she was Lady Dorothea, dancing with a nobleman, smiling and dressed like all the other ladies in the room.

As they performed the rather slow steps of the dance, her partner said, “You look beautiful, Lady Dorothea.”

“I thank you, Lord Dreigers. And you dance very well.”

“I thank you, Lady Dorothea.”

They smiled and complimented each other a few more times until the dance was over. She simply had to keep this up for the rest of the night. One last night to pretend. One last night to feel important and beautiful.

Carefully, she stayed in the small crowd of older people, except for the three dances she danced. She chatted with Lady Applonia’s mother. For a moment she thought Lord Thornbeck was coming toward her, but he was stopped by Lady Otilia’s father, who spoke with him for several minutes, then they were joined by two more fathers.

When Magdalen finally stopped dancing, she came over to Avelina. “Have you spoken to Lord Thornbeck?”

“No, why?”

A worried look came into her eyes. “Perhaps you should talk to him. I am sure he wishes to speak to you.”

“Why would he wish to speak to me?”

Magdalen bit her lip again, as if in frustration.

“What is wrong?” Something was bothering Magdalen. “I’m sorry if I was rude to Lord Thornbeck, but Magdalen, there is something I need to tell you.”

Just then, the music stopped and everyone turned toward the head of the room, near the staircase. Jorgen Hartman and his wife, Odette, were standing with Lord Thornbeck.

“May I have your attention, please,” Jorgen said.

All conversation ceased.

“You all know that for the past two weeks, Lord Thornbeck has been deciding who he will marry from among the ten ladies here tonight.”

Avelina and Magdalen glanced at each other. Magdalen had such a strange look on her face.

“And now, before we retire to the Great Hall for the feast that is prepared for you, Lord Thornbeck’s guests, our margrave would like to announce his choice.”