“Let us go.” Valten’s strident voice cut into her joyous thoughts. “Let’s kill this spawn of the devil, Claybrook, and get back our women and our castle.” He drew his sword from his scabbard, making the polished blade ring in the still morning air.
Colin let go of her with a long look, and she stepped back. He and the rest of the men drew their swords. They all filed into the opening of the tunnel, with Valten leading the way.
Her father turned and looked at Colin. “Stay with my daughter. Don’t let anything happen to her.”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Colin took hold of her hand, an intense look in the set of his jaw and the glint in his eye. They stood in the line of men, near the back, who were entering the tunnel.
As they made their way down the steps and into the earthy-smelling tunnel, the only light came from the open door behind them. After they had walked around the first bend, she could no longer see anything. She held on to Colin’s hand and clutched his arm, and she felt safe. Though she couldn’t see him, she remembered how he had looked a few moments ago, with his sword in his right hand and wearing his mail armor. Colin looked brave and strong. He had come a long way since he lay near death on Frau Lena’s sick bed. He was well and whole and . . . beautiful.
And he wasn’t afraid of holding her hand in front of her father, which showed his courage even more than the sword and the armor.
When she was near him, she not only trusted him as a good and noble friend. Her heart also leapt and skipped inside her. Now, feeling the taut strength in his fingers, a tingling warmth spread through her hand and up her arm. Since she could see nothing in the pitch-black tunnel, she thought about how his eyes sometimes seemed to be searching hers, the blue depths speaking to her in a way no one else ever had.
When he left to go back to England, never to return, would her heart break into a hundred pieces? Just thinking about it now made the tears come into her eyes and her chest hurt. How could she let him leave . . . without her?
She heard the rustling of the men in front of her and behind, but no one spoke. Finally, the sound of stone scraping stone came from far ahead. Valten, who had gone in first, must have reached the special door that led into the dungeon.
Colin slowed, then came to a stop. Margaretha waited just behind him, since the tunnel was so narrow.
“I need to speak with you later,” Colin whispered. She could tell by the sound of his voice that he had turned to face her, and that he was very near. She strained her eyes in the darkness but could make out nothing of his face or even his silhouette.
Margaretha whispered back, “Since we’re speaking English, probably no one here can understand us anyway — unless Thaddeus and Thomas are nearby. But I saw them near the front, so I don’t think they can hear us.”
Colin’s breath brushed her cheek as he whispered, “I’m sorry I let you get captured by Claybrook’s men.”
“That was not your fault. It was mine, for getting lost in the woods. I hope God forgives me for telling them you died.”
“I’m sure God forgives you.”
He pressed his hand against her cheek. She reached up and touched his face. He had apparently shaved when he was in Marienberg, but not since, so he had a few days’ growth of stubble on his jawline where her fingers touched. “I missed you.” The darkness surrounded them, and the feeling that they were invisible to the other men before and behind must have been affecting them both, for when she stood on tiptoe to get closer, his hand slid under her chin and lifted her face. His lips touched hers.
Colin, Colin, Colin. It was the only thought she could manage as he tenderly caressed her lips.
His hand sank into her hair behind her neck. She cupped his face in her hands and her fingertips touched his chain mail. She could hardly breathe, but she didn’t mind. She kissed him back, because she was in love with Colin le Wyse from England.
“I love you,” he whispered, as soon as he pulled away.
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?” She still held his face in her hands. He didn’t pull away.
“Yes, but there is more.”
“Good. I like more.”
She was about to kiss him again when her father’s voice boomed, “Men, we are going in. You know what to do.”
“Give me your hand.” Colin grasped her hand firmly, and they started walking again, a new excitement in the air as the men prepared to fight for Hagenheim.
Margaretha was still trying to get her breathing back to normal after Colin’s kiss. She never imagined she would get her first true kiss in the secret tunnel, surrounded by strange men. At least it was memorable.
But she shouldn’t be dwelling on Colin’s kiss. Even though it was a heavenly kiss. Blissful, even. She needed to remember where she was, and that all these men — possibly including Colin — were about to risk their lives fighting Claybrook to save her family, the castle, and the entire town.
She could think about the kiss later.
They emerged into the dungeon and followed the corridor to the steps that led to the first floor of the castle. Already Margaretha could hear fighting — yells, sword blades striking metal, shouts of rage, a woman’s scream.
Chapter
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Colin gripped her hand tighter. He had the old intense look on his face. She imagined he was thinking how he might best protect her, how he would do anything to keep her safe, would risk his life and defeat any foe —
Her father shouted at the men coming up behind them. “Get to the gate! Make sure it stays open for the ones who are coming from town!” He looked at Colin and motioned with his sword. “Come with me to the solar. Bring Margaretha.”
As they hurried down the corridor, her father stepped over the body of one of Claybrook’s men lying facedown on the floor. Colin helped Margaretha over the large soldier, and she held her breath, terrified he was only pretending to be dead and would grab her by the leg as she stepped over. But he did not move, and she was soon safely over him.
Her father ran up the steps and she and Colin followed at a slower pace, with Colin keeping his body in front of hers, still holding her hand. Above them she heard Valten’s ferocious roar, followed by the great clashing of sword blades, then a cry of, “I surrender! Don’t kill me!” It was definitely not Valten’s voice.
When they reached the top and Margaretha was able to look over Colin’s shoulder, she saw two men on their knees on the floor being guarded by her father and one other man, and two others lying prostrate, obviously either dead or seriously wounded.
Feminine voices, her mother’s and her sisters’, came from the solar at the top of the stairs, and Colin allowed her to precede him into the room. Valten was striding toward Gisela. He bent and lifted his wife in his arms.
Margaretha moved out of his way. Valten’s scowl was truly frightening, and Gisela’s face was slightly contorted too, as if she was in pain, as Valten carried her out the door, his steps echoing in the corridor.
“Gisela’s water broke.” Margaretha’s mother hugged her and patted her cheek. “I heard how you escaped from Claybrook when he was sick.” She winked and grinned at her daughter. “I am thankful you’re well. Now I must go see to Gisela and try to find Frau Lena.” She nodded at Colin as she left the room.
Margaretha’s sisters embraced her, and even her two brothers joined the hug.
Her father stood in the doorway. “We will take these prisoners to the dungeon. Colin, I leave my family in your charge.”
Colin made a slight bow before placing himself in the doorway, his sword at the ready.
Margaretha’s brothers and sisters were talking loudly, arguing, and asking questions. Wolfgang was running around, trying to get Steffan to chase him. Margaretha managed to stop Wolfgang, get the others’ attention, and order them to sit down on the floor and play a game. She took down the Nine Men’s Morris game board and the black and white pieces, and Steffan and Wolfgang began to play. She found the backgammon board for Kirstyn and Adela.
Colin stood in the doorway, obviously standing guard over the room. Truly, with his hauberk and the sword in his hand, he had transformed, from “Froschjunge,” or “Frog boy,” to her very own knight in shining armor.
Colin listened for fighting, but mostly he heard only occasional cheers or laughter, as well as men being brought down to the dungeon from outside. The fighting seemed to have moved into the town, if there was any fighting. He might have been disappointed he’d missed most of it if he hadn’t been entrusted with guarding Margaretha and the rest of Duke Wilhelm’s family. He felt the significance of the duty, as Claybrook had not yet been found. Duke Wilhelm was searching the castle for him now.
Margaretha approached him. He could hear her soft footfalls and the swish of her skirt. He glanced over his shoulder, the sight of her making his heart twist violently inside his chest.
He should probably turn away — she was far too distracting — but he couldn’t quite force himself to do that.
She slipped her hand inside his. “Am I distracting you?”
“Yes.”
Her smile grew wider. “Do you think my father’s men will defeat Claybrook?”
“I believe they will. He has a lot of men fighting for him, more than Claybrook. Even my father is here with some of his men.”
“Your father?” She sounded surprised. “May I meet him?”
“You could hardly avoid it.” He couldn’t help looking down at her. Her small hand felt sweet and soft in his, and her pretty brown eyes gazed up at him, so trusting.
“Tell me what happened after Claybrook’s men took me.”
Colin studied her hand as he talked. “I saw you riding away with them, so Toby and I continued on to Marienberg. We must have been closer than we thought, because we arrived at midday. I was surprised to find my father had arrived in Marienberg only an hour before I did.”
“Was he looking for you? How did he know where to find you?” Her teeth were so perfect behind her equally perfect lips. He couldn’t help remembering their kiss. Too bad her siblings were in the room.
“He was looking for Claybrook, and he thought if he found Claybrook he would find me. He stopped in Marienberg hoping your cousin might have information — since he’d heard Claybrook was courting you — on his way to see Claybrook’s uncle at Keiterhafen Castle. The Duke of Marienberg had just been informed, through a missive he’d received from your father, about the danger to Hagenheim and your family. And then I was able to corroborate the message.” He played with her fingers, rubbing the soft knuckles and imagining himself kissing them. He refrained from doing so, just barely.
“So, my father, Lord Glynval, was able to accompany us back here. He was also able to explain to Duke Theodemar the treachery that Claybrook had enacted in England. Armed with this knowledge, along with Duke Wilhelm’s message, he had already been preparing to set out the next morning when I arrived with the final details. We decided to set out a few hours later, instead of waiting until morning.”
“I am thankful you did.” She entwined her fingers in his and pressed the back of his hand to her cheek.
He had to take a deep breath to refill his lungs before going on. “Duke Theodemar supplied me with a horse, and my father had brought my own mail hauberk and sword from home. While traveling here, we received word of where to join forces with Duke Wilhelm and his men.”
She had been staring into his eyes with a sleepy, content expression, when her eyes went wide with horror and she screamed. Colin turned as a raised sword came straight at his head.
He ducked and the sword struck his shoulder. Colin raised his own sword and hit Claybrook’s wrist, for it was Claybrook who had struck him. The sword fell from Claybrook’s hand. He lunged for it, but Colin placed his booted foot on Claybrook’s shoulder and pushed with all his might. The kick sent Claybrook sprawling backward.
Claybrook’s sword slid across the floor. Colin glanced behind him as Margaretha snatched up the weapon.
“Stay back,” he told her.
Claybrook was slow getting up and Colin thrust his sword against his chest. He could easily kill the villain, and he had fantasized many times of doing just that, of running Claybrook through. But somehow, his thirst for Claybrook’s blood had melted away, replaced by a much diff erent desire — for Margaretha’s respect.
“I will not kill you,” Colin said, “even though you don’t deserve mercy. But as a wise person lately reminded me, I need to leave room for God’s vengeance.”
Claybrook was not wearing armor, and the tip of Colin’s sword was pricking his skin through his shirt. He yelped like the coward he was, then lay back on the floor. His face was gray and he was breathing hard. “Who poisoned me?” He kept his eyes closed as he spoke. “If not for the poison, I would not have been so easily defeated.”
“But you still would have been. Good always conquers evil in the end.” God had decreed it to be so since before time.
“What will you do to me?” Claybrook opened his eyes and gazed up at him.
“That is up to Duke Wilhelm. I am done with you. Duke Wilhelm can take you to his king and have you punished. There are certainly more witnesses to the crimes you have committed here. But if you ever again set foot in England, I shall make sure you are given the welcome you deserve.”
Colin shouted for Duke Wilhelm. Within moments, he was striding down the corridor with one of his men. “Good work,” Duke Wilhelm said. They hauled Claybrook to his feet and dragged him, none too gently, down the stone steps toward the dungeon.
Steffan and Wolfgang were staring, their mouths open, at Colin and his sword. He winked at them as he put the sword back in its sheath.
Shouts resounded from the courtyard and Margaretha ran to the window to look out.
“Father’s knights are returning with prisoners. We have won!” She turned to him, her face lit with a big smile.
He came over to the window to join her, stepping around Adela and Kirstyn, who were still sitting on the floor. The men outside were shouting jovially and celebrating.
“It is over, then.”
“Which one is your father?” Margaretha asked him.
“That one there,” Colin said. “He’s wearing a black surcoat with the red and yellow chevron from our coat of arms.”
“Oh yes, I see him. And there is my father greeting him. Isn’t it wonderful that they are friends? Things seem to have worked out so perfectly in the end, didn’t they? Even though they started out so badly.”
“Very true.” Things had not started out well, but now . . .
Margaretha’s gaze shifted to his shoulder. “Did Claybrook’s sword hurt you?”
“I barely felt it. The chain mail protected me.” He used his fingers to brush back a curl that had worked out of her braid and dangled by her temple. Her hair was as soft as silk. His heart started to speed up.
One of Duke Wilhelm’s knights appeared at the top of the steps. Margaretha’s little brothers spoke to him in excited tones.
“They’re asking,” Margaretha explained, “if it is safe for us to come out now.”
The knight must have affirmed that it was, because the boys bolted out the door, whooping, and Margaretha’s two sisters also left.
Suddenly, he was alone with Margaretha.
Margaretha was thankful Colin was only wearing the long mail tunic and not the hard metal plates of armor like Valten wore in jousting tournaments. She could snuggle close to him. But did she dare? They were alone, but anyone might come into the solar at any time, as the door was open. She smiled up into his blue eyes. “You said you had more to say to me. How long do you think we have before we are discovered?”
“Not long, no doubt.” He stared at her lips. “We should make the most of it.”
A delicious shiver went through her stomach at his words, hoping he meant to kis
s her, but he frowned.
“Margaretha.” His hands gently wrapped around her shoulders as he leaned toward her. “We get along reasonably well, don’t you think?”
“Yes, of course.” Her heart sank.
“We were vastly good friends on the way to Marienberg, weren’t we?” There was a sharpness in his eyes as he seemed to delve into her thoughts.
“After you stopped trying to get rid of me.”
He looked sad.
“But I understand why, so it is all well.” Margaretha’s breath shallowed as she focused on his lips. “You became the best friend I’ve ever had. You were sweet and kind and courageous and . . .”
“Remember when we were in the tunnel and I said I loved you? Well, I didn’t mean I love you as a friend, Margaretha.”
Their kiss came even more sharply into her memory and she whispered, “I didn’t think you did.” She placed her palms against his chest, against the hard texture of his chain mail, imagining she could feel his heart beating under her right hand.
“I know you love your family. They are wonderful people, and it’s perfectly understandable that you wouldn’t want to leave them.” His hands tightened on her shoulders. “But I can’t leave here without you. I want to marry you and have children with you and take you back with me to England.” His expression was almost fierce as he said, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes.” Oh, why didn’t he just kiss her? “I understand.”
“Will you marry me? Will you leave your family and come with me? Or must I stay here and work in the stable until your father either sends me away or takes pity on me and makes me one of his knights, so that I’ll be worthy enough to marry you?”
“I don’t want you to have to work in the stable. You aren’t very good at it, and it isn’t a worthy goal for a man who will someday be an English earl.” She lifted a finger to rub the delightfully prickly whiskers on the side of his face. “You could become one of father’s knights, since you do look very good in mail and armor and with a sword in your hand.” She smiled teasingly, leaning her forearms against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her back. “But I love you so much, I don’t feel any fear at the thought of going with you to your home in England. I want to marry you more than anything else in the world.”
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