The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(5)
“Come in.”
Hildegard entered with a tray of food. “Where is Lady Dorothea?”
“Uh . . . she, uh—”
Hildegard glanced up at the ceiling and frowned. “Never mind. Let her know her food is here so she can eat before it gets cold.” She slammed the door behind her.
That was easy. She didn’t even have to tell a lie.
Avelina ate Dorothea’s breakfast—or a small portion of it—before her stomach began to feel sick. What would the earl do when he found out his daughter had run away with a knight?
Avelina finally decided to work on a story she had been writing to amuse Dorothea. It was about the daughter of an earl who fell in love with a knight. Dorothea chose the premise of the story, but Avelina enjoyed making up all the details, of how the two fell in love against their parents’ wishes and were cast out of the kingdom, forced to run for their lives from various dangers and disasters. But always they were saved by the sacrifices they made for each other.
It was nearly noon and Avelina had been writing for hours when a sudden loud pounding came at the door. Avelina dropped her quill pen on the floor and jumped to her feet.
The door swung wide and one of Lord Plimmwald’s knights stood in the doorway. His eyes were cold as he looked at Avelina.
“The earl wishes to speak to Lady Dorothea’s maidservant.”
She preceded the knight out the door, then he led the way down the corridor to the Great Hall.
Though it was time for the midday meal, he was not eating. Instead the earl was sitting at his place on the dais with his head in his hands and his elbows on the trestle table. He must have heard the knight approaching, his sword clanging against his mail tunic, but Lord Plimmwald did not look up.
“I have retrieved the lady’s maidservant, my lord.” The knight spoke formally in an even tone, and Avelina sensed his cold disapproval.
She curtsied to her lord, although he still had not looked up at her. Would he order her punished and send her to the pillory to be humiliated, standing with her hands and head inserted in the wooden boards in the town square? She’d always had a horror of the indignity of the pillory. Perhaps if she pleaded with her lord he would punish her in some other less publicly humiliating way.
Lord Plimmwald finally lifted his head and caught sight of his knight standing beside Avelina. He waved him away with a languid flick of his wrist. The knight bowed and left the banqueting hall.
Avelina focused her eyes on the floor, but she couldn’t help taking furtive peeks at her lord. Dark bags sagged under his eyes, which were faintly shot through with blood.
“Avelina.” He finally looked at her, his bushy white eyebrows hanging low over his eyes. “As you know, the Duke of Geitbart is threatening to claim Plimmwald Castle for his own, since Plimmwald belonged to his ancestors, and I have no son or heir. Our allies have turned a blind eye to his aggression, and he has threatened to come and besiege our quiet, peaceful town and take Plimmwald Castle by force.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I had thought to seek the help of the Margrave of Thornbeck, and even hoped I might betroth Dorothea to him. But he has decided to hold a two-week party and choose a bride from the guests—all the eligible daughters of the noblemen of the northern regions of the Holy Roman Empire.”
He leaned forward, piercing her with his gray-green eyes. “Now my daughter has run off with my best knight, Sir Dietric. My hopes are dashed. All appears to be doomed for me and for the people of Plimmwald.”
He fixed her with a stern look. “You are my daughter’s closest servant and confidant. You must have known my daughter was sneaking away to go on secret trysts with Sir Dietric. But you did not warn me.” He slapped his hand down on the table. “And now she is with child. I would be justified in having you banished from Plimmwald.”
Avelina’s heart pounded sickeningly against her chest. It was true. She had known all along what was transpiring.
His eyes narrowed as he stared at her, his face a craggy stone and just as cold. “You knew what it would cost my daughter, and yet you never told me.”
“Please forgive me, my lord.” Avelina’s voice shook. None of her reasons would sound good enough to Lord Plimmwald. They seemed rather foolish now, even to her.
“The deed has been done, my daughter is gone, and there must have been many others who knew what was happening. I, the lord of the land, was the last to know.” Bitterness and anger infused his voice. He stared at the wall, then pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
“Now, I have a task for you,” he said, finally looking at her again, “that is far beyond being a lady’s maidservant for my spoiled daughter. I only hope you will be able to succeed in it as well as you kept my daughter’s secrets.”
What could he mean?
“We need the favor of Lord Thornbeck. We need the margrave’s help to defend us from Geitbart. I have little hope of finding Dorothea and bringing her back, and the Margrave of Thornbeck has asked that she come to Thornbeck Castle for two weeks. You must take her place.”
Avelina stared into his wrinkled face. “Take her place? Do you mean, pretend to be Lady Dorothea?”
“Precisely. You are the only woman I know who is fair enough. My daughter was a renowned beauty, but with fine clothes and someone calling you ‘my lady’ and treating you like a noble-born woman, anyone might consider you as beautiful as my wayward daughter.”