The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(83)

“Or at least I and my men who have been able to escape can overpower the guards and take their weapons.”

“Yes! It will work. I know it will.”

“You are wonderful, Avelina.” His brown eyes bored into hers, a strange look in them she couldn’t quite define. Suddenly he said, “You wanted me to marry Lady Magdalen.”

“What?”

“Do you still want me to marry Magdalen?” He seemed to be searching her thoughts, reading her face with those mesmerizing eyes.

Her mind seemed blank as her heart thumped wildly and she breathed in shallow gasps.

“It’s a simple question. Do you still want me to marry Lady Magdalen?”

What she wanted was for him to kiss her again. But they should not be kissing at all!

“I could not marry you. You are a margrave and I was . . . I thought . . . No, I don’t want you to marry Magdalen.” Her voice cracked and tears suddenly swam in her eyes. “I want you to marry me.”

She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “I should never have said that. I promised God.”

“You promised God what?”

“That I would not expect you to marry me, that I would not ask—Oh!” She turned her head, trying to hide her face from him. He pulled her in closer, and she buried her face in his shoulder.





29



REINHART PULLED HER close, his hand against the back of her head, holding her to his chest. His heart pounded against his ribs. “Shh,” he whispered against her ear. “Do not cry. My Liebling . . . my sweet. Don’t cry.”

He caressed her shoulder and her back and kissed her hair. His heart pounded in his chest at hearing her say she wanted him to marry her.

“If we get out of here, we will marry.”

“No, please, you mustn’t say that.” Her voice was still laden with tears and she kept her head down. “You must not . . . The king. He would never allow it.”

“What do I care about the king?”

“No, you must not talk like that. I should not have said what I did. I shouldn’t have said it.”

He rubbed his cheek against her soft hair, her intoxicating smell filling his senses.

She leaned away from him, wiping her face with her hands. He fought back the urge to lift her chin and kiss her again.

“I should unlock the door so we will be ready to escape when the guards leave again.” Her voice trembled.

Reinhart squeezed her hand as he allowed her to leave his arms. He leaned against the bars to look down the corridor and try to see if the guards were in sight, while Avelina took out the small instrument and stuck her hand through the bars. Her face was intent as she concentrated on her task. Reinhart kept watch.

After a few moments he heard a click. Avelina opened the door a crack and looked at him with a smile. Then she pocketed her tool.

“What are these things for?” He pointed under the bench.

“I planned to make up a form using the sack of straw and the priest’s cloak, and using the gourd for a head, so that when we leave, it looks like you are in here. The guards would not realize you had escaped. However, now that they have seen me in here, the plan doesn’t seem as likely to work.”

“It’s still a good plan.”

All he could think about was that kiss they had shared a few minutes before. And how much he wanted to kiss her again.



Avelina’s insides melted at the memory of their kiss. Her lips still tingled.

She moved to the bench and sat, trying to sort out her thoughts, which was impossible with him so near. She put her face in her hands, her eyes closed and head bowed, to shut out everything, especially Lord Thornbeck.

She should be thinking about what to do. What had she said? That she wanted him to marry her. Oh, foolish girl that she was. And what had he said? That they would marry.

It was impossible. She should not be telling him that she wanted him to marry her. Her stomach wrenched at the memory—especially since it was so true.

“Can you hear the guards? Are they still here?” She lifted her head. They needed to focus on escaping.

“I can hear them talking. In a few hours I will sneak down the corridor and watch for them to leave.”

There was nothing to do but wait. For hours. Alone with Lord Thornbeck. She was actually glad they were in a cold, smelly, dark, dank, dirty dungeon.



Reinhart tortured himself with all the terrible things that could happen to Avelina if she did not escape. Hours had passed since she had gotten herself trapped in his cell with him.

“I’m going to see what the guards are doing.”

Avelina turned from where she had been pacing back and forth. She did not say anything, only stared after him. It was as if she had reverted back to her old behavior when he thought she was Lady Dorothea, when she looked afraid to talk to or look at him too long. It must be because he had kissed her again and told her they would marry. He probably shouldn’t have, but he could not bring himself to regret it. She must feel guilty because of the promise she made to God. But she had not promised God she would not marry him, only that she would not expect him to marry her.

He pushed the door open just enough to slip through. It creaked. He waited, but the guards did not come. He slipped out and walked slowly and quietly down the corridor.