The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(6)

Her thoughts spun around and she couldn’t quite catch hold of one. The earl was speaking again.

“You must not ever let Thornbeck realize that you are not Dorothea. He must never suspect. He must also not choose to marry you, but you must not offend him in any way. He is by far our most important ally and our best hope of defeating Geitbart. It is rumored that Thornbeck killed his own brother to become margrave.” He shook his finger at her face. “What do you think he would do if he realized he had been duped by us, that I had sent him a servant instead of an earl’s daughter?”

The blood drained from Avelina’s face, and she swayed on her feet. I must listen. No matter how dizzy his words made her.

“You must understand that you will be saving us all. Every person at the castle and in the town will be in danger. Geitbart will certainly kill at least some of the people when he takes control of Plimmwald. And though Dorothea has gone away with Sir Dietric to no-one-knows-where, the margrave must never know that.” The corners of the earl’s mouth dipped in a grim frown.

How would Avelina, the daughter of a crippled former stable master and a lady’s maidservant, ever fool the Margrave of Thornbeck and all his guests into believing she was an earl’s daughter?

“Cannot you simply write to the margrave and tell him that your daughter is sick?”

“No, I cannot, impertinent girl. I wrote a letter to the king complaining about Geitbart sending his men to scout out our land, and also advising the king about the rumors surrounding Thornbeck’s brother’s death. The king apparently told them both about the letter, and now I am certain Geitbart intends to attack us. Thornbeck will not be inclined to help since I accused him of murdering his brother. That is why you must go and try to make peace with the Margrave of Thornbeck.”

The earl sounded nothing like he did when he was speaking to Dorothea, the way he often pleaded with her to behave more like a lady. Instead he growled the words at Avelina.

“When he attacks, Geitbart will kill innocent people simply to prove that he is master and frighten the rest into submission. Your own family could be killed.”

The earl spoke in a cold, quiet tone.

“And now you must take the rest of Dorothea’s clothes and jewelry and prepare for the journey to Thornbeck. You will leave in two hours.”

He was not asking her if she would do it; he was ordering her to.

She must think. She must be wise and ask something for herself. “If I do this, I will be deceiving one of the most powerful men in the Holy Roman Empire. I am risking my life.”

Unmoved, Lord Plimmwald stared back at her.

“If I succeed, you must give me a sum of money . . . enough to constitute a dowry so I can marry. And—and a goose and a side of pork every month for my family.”

“Very well. It shall be as you have asked.”

He agreed so quickly. She should have asked for more.

“But I warn you, if you should in any way destroy what little alliance I have with the margrave by being found out to be a servant instead of the Earl of Plimmwald’s daughter, I will not spare either you or your family. I will banish you all. And you will have failed every person in Plimmwald.”

Avelina’s throat tightened at the cruelty in the earl’s voice, cruelty that would hurt her father as well as her little sister and brother. She swallowed past the constriction.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord.” She would not fail. She could not.

Somehow she had to convince a powerful margrave that she was the Earl of Plimmwald’s daughter, and she must not allow herself to be chosen to be his bride.

The latter task would no doubt be easier than the former.





3



“LORD THORNBECK, SOME guests have arrived.”

Reinhart did not look up from the report he was reading. The servant cleared his throat. Finally, he lifted his head as two ladies swept into the room—his own personal library where he kept his important documents and letters, his private sanctuary.

“The Lady Fronicka, daughter of the Duke of Geitbart,” the servant announced, “and the Lady Applonia, daughter of the Earl of Hindenberg.”

Reinhart glared at the servant. Was it not clear that ladies were not to be ushered into his presence when they arrived? Bad enough that he had to make conversation with them at mealtimes in the Great Hall.

The two young ladies probably expected him to stand and bow politely. Instead, he grunted.

Lady Fronicka stepped forward. “My lord, you are so gracious to invite us to Thornbeck Castle for the next weeks’ festivities. I am very—”

“Lady Fronicka, I did not invite you to be gracious. I simply am following the king’s wishes that I marry a nobleman’s daughter, an alliance that will strengthen the Holy Roman Empire and the king’s authority in it. And now you and Lady Applonia may feel free to rest in your rooms after your long journey. I have work to do. The servants will see to your needs.”

Lady Fronicka raised her brows. Lady Applonia stared with her mouth slightly open.

Finally, Lady Fronicka smiled. “We shall look forward to seeing you, Lord Thornbeck, in the Great Hall.”

He nodded and they left. “Come here,” he ordered the manservant who was still skulking by the door.

“Yes, Lord Thornbeck?” The man eagerly strode forward.