The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(64)
The more she had tried not to think him handsome, the handsomer he became, as she realized his care and concern for the orphans, his easy manner with Jorgen and Odette and friendship with them, his gentle way with the poor addled woman who haunted the west wing—the way he looked at Avelina, so considerate, so intense. She supposed she should have known all along that his interest lay with her, not Magdalen, but something inside her just could not allow her to believe that the margrave could fall in love with a servant—even when that servant was masquerading as an earl’s daughter.
She’d never been in love before. She’d tried to save herself this pain, but all her pretending and hiding the truth from herself had not saved her at all. And even though this love was painful, it was worth it to remember how the sight of him and the sound of his voice had made her heart beat faster, that feeling of wanting what was best for someone else, even if it broke her own heart.
By midmorning Avelina could hardly bear to lie in bed another moment. “I think my ankle is much better now, and there must be something we can do to help Lord Thornbeck.”
Magdalen frowned at her. “Hegatha will not be pleased if you get up. She and Frau Schwitzer agree, you must stay off your ankle for at least two days.”
Avelina sighed, then tried another tact. “What is the worst thing that could happen? It will bleed again.” She shrugged. “A little blood loss never hurt anyone.”
Magdalen laughed. “Well, you shall have to contend with Hegatha if you get up, that is all I can say.”
And as if their speaking of her conjured her, she opened the door.
“What was the gossip in the kitchen?” Magdalen asked.
“Do the servants know what Geitbart is planning?” Avelina added. “Did you find out anything that might help Lord Thornbeck?”
Hegatha gave them both her perpetual frown, then settled it on Magdalen. “Truly, my lady, you should leave Thornbeck as soon as possible, just as soon as the guards arrive. This place is not safe.”
“Why? Did something happen?”
“The servants were whispering about someone taking over the castle. They said they heard a rumor that it was the Duke of Geitbart. They asked me if I knew something, but of course I told them nothing. Then, when I was on my way back here, I saw Lady Fronicka speaking with one of the servants. When they saw me coming, they stopped talking and waited for me to walk away.”
“Which servant?” Avelina sat up straighter. “Which servant was Lady Fronicka talking to?”
“A rather homely looking woman they call Gerhaws was talking in Lady Fronicka’s ear. I would not think such a lady would ever feel a need to speak privately to a servant, especially one with pockmarks all over her face and wild red hair and a red nose. It is well known that this Gerhaws drinks herself into a stupor in the evenings.” Hegatha lifted the covers to check Avelina’s bandage.
Gerhaws was the servant who introduced Irma to Friedrich. “Gerhaws used to drink with Irma, often getting her drunk. Lady Fronicka and her father must be using Gerhaws as a spy, just as Fronicka used Irma.” She tapped her chin with her fingertip. “What if I were to follow Gerhaws? Perhaps I could discover something, could sneak and listen to her conversations with Lady Fronicka.”
“No, Avelina.” Magdalen was frowning like Hegatha now. “You cannot. Your injuries are not healed and you must not walk on your ankle.”
“What does my ankle matter if the castle is attacked and Lord Thornbeck is killed?”
Magdalen stared at her with wide eyes. She had not meant to speak so vehemently. Even Hegatha’s mouth went slack, replacing her usual frown.
“Truly,” Avelina said quietly, “I cannot lie here doing nothing while Geitbart is plotting how he might kill Lord Thornbeck.”
Avelina threw back the covers and stood. “If my ankle begins to bleed too much, I shall come and lie down again. But I must go and see what I can do. It doesn’t hurt much anymore.” She walked gingerly across the floor. “Do you see? It is not so bad.”
When they saw she was determined, Magdalen and Hegatha helped her get dressed.
“I shall go with you,” Magdalen said.
“I have an idea to get the servants to trust me. I shall make them think I am being forced to work in the kitchen with all the other servants. Frau Schwitzer will help me.”
Magdalen argued with her some more, but Avelina simply smiled and embraced her.
Magdalen frowned. “Please ask for a guard to carry you back up the stairs if your ankle starts to bleed again.”
“Very well.”
Reinhart sat once again in his library, gazing out the window. How strange to be so idle when his castle might soon be attacked.
After he sent the first guard with a letter to the king, he wrote two more and sent those two couriers in different directions, in case it turned out that the king was away from his home in Prague.
The weather had grown warm enough to melt most of the snow, so he was able to bid farewell to most of his guests the previous day. No doubt they all wanted to be well away before Geitbart did something that would displease the king, like murdering the king’s margrave or attacking Thornbeck’s guards. The only guests left were Geitbart and Fronicka, Lady Magdalen, whose own guards had only just arrived from Mallin to escort her home, and Avelina.