The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(63)

For a long moment Lord Thornbeck did not say anything. She glanced up at him.

“I should not have allowed you to go down the stairs and back up again. I shall send for the healer.”

“My lord, do not trouble yourself. All I need is a bandage change.”

“I shall send Frau Schwitzer to see to it.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

A guard came into the room.

“Carry her to her room, then ask Frau Schwitzer to see to her wounds.”

The guard lifted her in his arms and carried her out.

Lord Thornbeck did care for her a little or he would not have saved her from the wolves and looked so regretful when he saw her bloody bandage. But it only made her heart ache for what might have been, how much more he would have cared if she had been an earl’s daughter.

“Avelina!” Someone called from behind. Magdalen hurried toward her to keep up with the fast-moving guard. “Why are you out of bed?”

“I have to tell you something,” she said quietly, “when we get to my room.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence until they were in Avelina’s room and the guard had left.

While Magdalen pulled a chair up to her bedside, Avelina told her what she’d heard Geitbart say.

“We have to keep Geitbart from capturing Lord Thornbeck and throwing him in the dungeon, or worse.” Avelina’s stomach twisted and her mouth went dry at the “worse” things that could happen. “And from taking over Thornbeck.”

“But how? What can we do?”

“I don’t know.” Avelina tapped her chin. “Lord Thornbeck and Jorgen will be asking men to come and help fight Geitbart’s guards. But I was thinking you and I could spy on Geitbart, find out what he is doing and planning.”

Magdalen leaned over and lifted Avelina’s hem, then inhaled a noisy breath. “Your ankle is bleeding terribly. Blood is getting on the blanket. You won’t be going anywhere.”

Avelina felt a little sick at the sight of the red-soaked cloth.

A knock came, then Frau Schwitzer opened the door and bustled in with a basket of clean cloths and a pitcher of water.

They stayed quiet until Frau Schwitzer had washed off the blood, changed the bandage, and left. Then they discussed what they might do to help save Thornbeck from Geitbart. Their ideas ranged from the practical to the fanciful, about how to spy on Geitbart, and how to kidnap him and Fronicka.

Finally, Magdalen declared, “I’m sleeping in your room tonight. I don’t think I should let you out of my sight, with Fronicka hating you like she does.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think she would—”

“No arguments. I won’t take no for an answer.”

All Avelina could do was smile meekly. “Thank you, Lady Magdalen.”





23



HEGATHA COULD NOT have been pleased with the arrangements, but she would never have allowed Magdalen to sleep in Avelina’s room without her, so she slept in Irma’s little closet, with the door open.

When Avelina awoke, the sun was shining and she and Magdalen were still alive. Someone knocked, then a maidservant entered the room with a tray of food. The smell of fried meat and stewed fruit awoke her appetite, and she threw back the covers to get up.

“Oh no.” Hegatha set down the tray and shook her finger at Avelina. “Frau Schwitzer said you must keep your foot up. You shall eat in bed.”

There was good and bad to everything, even having a grouchy older woman in her room taking charge.

It seemed strange to be sitting in bed eating like a queen when Lord Thornbeck was in so much danger. But for now, Geitbart could not know that the margrave knew of his treachery. He was surely still trying to muster support from others and amassing troops for his attack.

Magdalen and Avelina talked while they ate, and Avelina told her about her own brother and sister. Then the talk turned to Lord Thornbeck.

Magdalen asked, “Do you think he is handsome? Or do you still think he is too severe looking, as you did at first?”

“I think very differently about him now than I did then. I tried not to think about him at all . . . but I thought of him constantly.” Her heart seemed to expand like a watered plant as she was finally able to tell the truth about her feelings. “I believed there was so much goodness in him. And I was terrified he would see how much I admired him. It was difficult, forcing myself to turn away from him every time he looked at me.”

“And trying to make him talk to me and not you?” Magdalen raised her brows. “Turning the conversation to me when he so obviously wanted to talk to you.”

“So obviously?”

“Of course. The poor margrave had to turn his attention away from you so you would not look frightened to death that he was talking more to you than to me.”

“I was only trying to do as I had been told.”

“I know that now.” Magdalen’s smile faded. “I am sorry.”

No one spoke. Magdalen was beginning to look sad.

“He is handsome, except he does have a rather too-large nose.”

Magdalen’s mouth fell open. “What?”

Avelina laughed. “Very well. He is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, even though his nose is rather large.” Laughing was better than crying, and she did not want Magdalen to be sad or feel sorry for her because they both knew she could never marry him.