LORD THORNBECK SEEMED to suddenly notice where they were. He yanked the door open, waved her in, then followed and closed the door.
Avelina went to the water pitcher next to her bed. It was still full. She poured the two goblets full of water and held out a goblet to him while taking a sip. “It’s a little stale tasting, but it’s water.”
He drank the whole goblet without pausing, letting a trickle of water run down his sooty neck. For some reason it reminded her of his fingers caressing her cheek in the tiny room. But that thought, along with his exposed throat and intense eyes, was too distracting and was making her cheeks grow hot.
“Sit down and tell me why you felt you had to put out that fire yourself.” Avelina hurried to find a clean cloth and poured some water in a bowl for him to wash his face. “You know you might have had a chance to escape if you had not done that.”
He didn’t speak for a few moments. “I seemed to go back to the night my brother died. I only knew I wanted to put it out. It was foolish, perhaps.” His eyes stayed locked on hers the whole time he was talking.
She handed him the bowl of water and cloth.
“You need this as badly as I do,” he said.
Avelina grabbed the small looking glass on her table. She gasped. Her face was covered in soot, almost as much as Lord Thornbeck’s, and there were bits of ash in her unkempt hair. “Why did you not tell me I looked like this?”
He stared up at her from the chair where he sat. “I think you look rather becoming.”
She quickly found another cloth and dipped it in the water. Turning her back on him and looking in the mirror, she quickly washed her face, cleaning her forehead and cheeks, around her eyes, rinsing her cloth and cleaning her chin and around her mouth. Finally, she turned to face him while she picked the ashes out of her hair.
“Did Gerhaws start the fire?”
“I think Geitbart probably instructed her to, thinking I would try to escape the castle during the tumult.” Lord Thornbeck was washing his face and watching her out of the corner of his eye. “She fell to her death. After the fire was out, I went over and looked.”
“Horrible.”
“Especially since Gerhaws was the only witness to who actually killed my brother.”
“The king would not have accepted the word of a servant anyway.” Avelina continued cleaning her face and neck. “I was terrified Geitbart would seize you. Why do you think he did not? I don’t suppose he expected you to be putting out the fire.”
“No, and Geitbart would not risk his life by going anywhere near a fire.” Lord Thornbeck rubbed his sooty neck with the cloth. “And only a few of his guards were nearby, while my own guards were there helping to fight the fire. But he will hear that I was there.”
“Yes, he will be looking for you. You must escape the castle as quickly as you can.”
“May I have some more water?”
Avelina poured him another goblet. He took it and drank it. His stomach immediately growled.
“I’m famished too,” she said. “I’ll go down to the kitchen and get some food. You can take it with you as you leave.”
“Wait. It may not be safe for you to be seen.”
“Me? Why not? Do you think someone knows I warned you?”
“They may suspect it since you disappeared the same time I did.”
“I don’t think so. Frau Schwitzer was aware that I was spying last evening. She would have covered up my disappearance to Geitbart’s guards.”
He pointed behind her. “Why is your candle still burning?”
The candle was in a candlestick, but it was strange that it had not burned out yet. A piece of paper on the desk caught her eye. “Magdalen must have been here. She left me a note.”
“What does it say?”
“ ‘Avelina, my mother’s guards have come to escort me back to Mallin. I have no choice but to leave with them early in the morning. If you get this note, please come and say farewell to me.’ ”
Lord Thornbeck went to the window, opened the shutter, and looked out. “I should have just enough time to write a letter to the Duke of Pomerania to send with Lady Magdalen and her guards.”
He sat at the desk, then looked up at her. “You should lie down. Let me see your ankle.”
She opened the bed curtains. “But first I should go change my clothes. I think I have rat droppings on this dress.” She grabbed a clean cotehardie and went into the little servant’s closet and closed the door to undress, which she did quickly.
When she was done and came out, Lord Thornbeck was still sitting at the desk, writing.
She came across the room and he looked up at her. “You don’t look at all like someone who spent the night hiding in a tiny storage room.”
“Thank you, my lord.” She curtsied. “And neither do you.” His jaw and chin were covered in dark stubble. Was this how he had looked when he was once a rough knight, fighting in battles and commanding other rough men? But he was too appealing to dwell on.
While he was focused on his letter, she pulled her skirts up just enough to be able to see her bandage. Blood had soaked through in a few places, but it was much less bloody than before. She quickly dropped her skirt to cover it before Lord Thornbeck could see.
He took a stick of rose-colored wax from his pocket and held it over the candle flame, then quickly rubbed the hot end of the wax onto the folded paper. He took off his ring and sealed the letter, pressing the seal into the blob of wax.
Avelina’s eyes were gritty and her whole body was heavy with exhaustion, but she could not think about that. “I shall go fetch Lady Magdalen so you can ask her to take your letter.”
“Stop.”
She halted halfway to the door.
“You should not be running around on that ankle. I’ll go get Lady Magdalen.” He started toward the door.
“No, you won’t.” Avelina practically leapt to throw her body in front of the door. “You cannot. If a guard sees you—” She stared up into his eyes. The way he was looking down at her made her heart flutter. “Please. I will go.”
He pulled her hand to his chest. She was suddenly flooded by the oh-so-recent memory of lying against his chest, his strong arms around her, the warmth of his breath in her ear as he whispered to her.
“You are already on your ankle, so go.”
But he was still holding tightly to her hand. His expression seemed sad. Finally, he let go. She turned and hurried out into the corridor.
Her heart was thumping in a late reaction to wishing she could stand on her tiptoes and kiss him on the lips.
But that would have been foolish indeed.
She knocked on Magdalen’s door. Hegatha opened it, but Magdalen ran up behind her. “Are you well?” She reached out to clasp Avelina’s hands. “I was so worried.”
“I am well. Can you come with me, only for a few minutes?”
She nodded and hurried out, and they went back to Avelina’s room. Thankfully the corridor was still empty and no one saw them.
Lord Thornbeck, still standing where she had left him, held out the sealed missive. “Lady Magdalen, I need you to take this letter and have it delivered to the Duke of Pomerania. Would you be willing?”
“Of course. I can get one of the guards to break away and it will only add an extra day to his trip back to Mallin.”
“I would be greatly in your debt, Lady Magdalen.”
“It would be my honor to help you in such a way, Lord Thornbeck.” She took the letter from him. “And I understand that secrecy is of the utmost importance. No one shall know I saw you today or that I have this letter.”
“I appreciate that.” He gave her a small bow.
Magdalen suddenly turned to Avelina. “Can you come back to my room for a few moments?”
Avelina followed her back. Magdalen took Avelina aside and whispered, “What happened? Where were you all night?”
Avelina told her about going down to the kitchen and having Frau Schwitzer and Cook send her to work with Ge
rhaws. She told her of Gerhaws’s confession.
Magdalen gasped. “I can hardly believe she admitted what she did, and to you, a stranger.”
“She was so drunk with wine, or whatever it was she was drinking, I doubt she even remembered telling me.”
“Then what happened?”
“I overheard Geitbart telling his guards to capture Lord Thornbeck and to kill him if he resisted. So I ran to the library ahead of the guards to warn him. Lord Thornbeck and I hid in a secret room in the library. We were there all night waiting for the guard to leave.”
“Did anything happen?” Magdalen whispered.
“No. He cannot marry me, Magdalen.” Tears stung her eyes. “Perhaps he wishes he could, but . . . it’s impossible. And anyway, Geitbart is trying to kill him, or at least capture him.”
Magdalen looked very grave. “Please be careful. I am so sorry I have to leave you.” She put her arms around her.
“It is better that you go. You will be helping Lord Thornbeck by delivering his missive. You should get back home where you’ll be safe.”
Magdalen said some more about Avelina staying safe and that she would do whatever she could to help. They embraced each other one last time.
Avelina turned and went back to her own bedchamber, a hollow place in her heart as Magdalen closed the door behind her. She pressed her hands over her chest and tears stung her eyes. She might never see her friend again.
But she did not have time to dwell on sad thoughts now. There was much to do in the battle against Geitbart, to keep Lord Thornbeck and everyone else at the castle safe from Fronicka and her greedy, power-hungry father.
When she came back to her chamber, Reinhart was leaning forward in his chair, his head bowed as if he was praying. Perhaps he was saying a prayer that Magdalen’s guard would be able to get his message to his ally.
To keep from disturbing him—or facing his disapproval for going downstairs—Avelina hurried back out and down the barely lit corridors. As she went she made her plan. She would find Frau Schwitzer and see what information she might have. She would also see if the head house servant had any ideas about how to arm the male servants to fight Geitbart.
It was too bad Gerhaws had killed herself. It seemed strange to feel sad about the death of the woman who had murdered Lord Thornbeck’s brother, but even though her testimony would not be allowed to convict a nobleman like the Duke of Geitbart, it might have convinced the king at least not to believe the duke’s accusations against Lord Thornbeck. Besides, Geitbart was more to blame than the maidservant who carried out his murderous scheme.
When Avelina returned with a tray of food and a fresh pitcher of water, she reported her findings to Lord Thornbeck. “I managed to speak directly to one of your knights, Sir Stefan. He said he would see if he could find a way to arm the male servants with weapons without being noticed or raising suspicion. I shall go back to—”
“No, I do not want you going downstairs anymore. I’ve already been too thoughtless where you are concerned.”
“Very well. But Geitbart’s guards are everywhere, roaming the corridors of the castle, stopping people and questioning them. Frau Schwitzer and Sir Stefan are the only ones—besides Lady Magdalen and me—who know where you are.”
They ate quickly, with Avelina on the bed with her foot stretched out. When they had finished breaking their long fast, Lord Thornbeck asked, “Do you have any extra bandages? We have to get this one off you.”
She started to get up.
“No. You stay. Just tell me where they are.”
“I think there are some on that shelf.” She pointed to the cupboard on the other side of the bed.
He brought over a stack of bandages and set them on the bed near her foot. He reached for her ankle.
“Wait.” She pulled her feet up and covered them with her skirts.
“I am going to change the bandage on your ankle.”
“Only if you let me change the bandage on your arm and shoulder.”
He stared back at her. “Very well, but we should hurry. I need to start rounding up my men.”
She stretched out her leg and let him unwrap the bloody bandage on her ankle. He looked very stoic about touching her bare foot, but every time his fingers brushed her skin her stomach fluttered.
“It doesn’t look as if it is bleeding at the moment,” he said.
The gouge marks made by the wolf’s teeth were open holes in her skin, but they did seem a bit smaller than before. Perhaps they were closing up.
He picked up the bandages and soon finished wrapping and tying the bandage in place.
“Now it is your turn,” she said.
“But I have to look at your arm first.”
“I am not even bandaging it.” She raised the loose sleeve of her undergown. “See? It is nothing.” The scratches on her arm were healing well. She scooted over and patted the bed. “Sit, so I can see your shoulder and arm.”
He looked at her askance for a few moments before pulling his outer tunic and shirt over his head, then he sat at the foot of the bed instead of where she had indicated.
She tried to avert her eyes from his bare chest. She should avert her eyes and not admire his magnificent, broad, powerful-looking chest, and focus only on his shoulder injury. She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. Shoulder, Avelina. Injury, Avelina. Breathe, Avelina.
She unwrapped the bandage, trying not to touch his bare skin any more than necessary. “It is looking well,” she said to cover her nervousness.
“Just leave it uncovered. It doesn’t need a bandage.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s not bleeding, is it?”
“No, but let me look at your arm.”
He stretched out his arm to her.
“It seems to be healing quite well,” she said unnecessarily as she examined the scabbed-over scratches.
He arose and reached for his clothing on the chair. The muscles across his back bunched and flexed as he pulled his white shirt over his head and put his arms through the sleeves. Even though it had been at least a year since he injured his ankle, he still had the body of a well-trained knight. Lord Plimmwald’s knights often trained without their shirts. She’d always thought it was disgusting the way the other maidservants used to watch them. So why was her heart thumping, and why did she not feel disgusted now?
Please don’t let him turn suddenly and catch me staring at him.
Soon he was completely covered again and she was breathing more freely. He tied his shirt laces and then pulled on his outer tunic over his shirt.
Suddenly someone knocked on the door. “Go, hurry!” Avelina whispered desperately.
Lord Thornbeck hurried to the little room at the far end of the chamber as Avelina walked to her door. “Who is there?” she asked loudly, checking to make sure Lord Thornbeck was out of sight.
“Guards. Open the door.”
Avelina opened and stood in the doorway. “Yes?”
“We are looking for Lord Thornbeck.” They wore the colors of Geitbart, red and black.
Avelina shrugged. “I am sorry I cannot help you.”
The guard stuck his head in and looked around. “You are to tell one of us if you see him.”
“Is the Duke of Geitbart looking for him? Or are Lord Thornbeck’s guards looking for him?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “He is missing. Have you seen him?”
“No, but if I do see him, what should I tell him?”
“Tell him the Duke of Geitbart wishes to speak with him.”
“Of course. I will.”
She could tell he was trying to decide if he should bow to her or just leave. In the end he simply turned to leave. Three other guards were behind him and they went down the corridor and knocked on Magdalen’s door.
Just as Avelina was about to close the door, Geitbart pushed it wide and stepped into the room.
27
“LADY DOROTHEA,” HE said. “No, that is not your name,
is it? What is your name?”
“Avelina Klein of Plimmwald.”
“Avelina. Yes.” His face twisted into a wry smile. He seemed to be perpetually leaning forward in an aggressive way that seemed in contrast to his rather short and paunchy body. He had sharp angular cheekbones and bushy black brows that came to a point in the middle above each eye.
“Do you wish to speak to me about something?”
He moved over to the chair and sat down. “I wish to know where Lord Thornbeck is.”
“Apparently he is missing. Your guards just informed me.”
“I thought you might know where he is.” He fingered the goblet on the table beside him that Lord Thornbeck had drunk from earlier.
“Why would I know where he is?” Her hands were starting to shake.
“He chose you at the ball, did he not?”
“Yes, but when he found out I had deceived him, he was very angry with me. He had me sent to the servants’ quarters, until Magdalen demanded that he let me sleep here. He knows I am only a maidservant. He could have no further desire to even talk with me.”
“He risked his life to rescue you from the wolves, did he not?”
She shrugged again. “He heard screaming. He would have risked his life to save anyone.” A lump rose into her throat at the truth of the words.
The duke’s small, sharp gaze roamed the room, seeming to take note of everything. No doubt he took in their discarded bandages. Hopefully he could not tell that one of them belonged to Lord Thornbeck.
“I wonder that he has not sent you away.”
“He would have, but he said he would wait until my injury is healed.”
“Very compassionate of him.”
Avelina despised the mocking tone of his voice and curve of his lips. He was like a small dark rooster who claimed every chicken in the henhouse as his personal property—every chicken, every egg, and even the humans who fed him.
“Since I do not know where Lord Thornbeck is, there is nothing more I can do for you. I suppose you have things to do.”
But the duke made no move to get up from the chair. He simply continued to finger the goblet beside him.
“I heard the margrave was very helpful in putting out the fire in the west wing an hour ago.”
A Melanie Dickerson Collection Page 49