He glanced at Lady Dorothea as she spoke to the Duke of Wolfberg. Her face had such a look of innocence and modesty. Was it false? Was she pregnant with the child of her father’s knight? Or was Fronicka only trying to make Lady Dorothea look bad? But the information was so detailed—she gave the name of the knight Lady Dorothea was supposed to be in love with.
His stomach churned. He hated that he was even considering that this rumor might be true, especially about Lady Dorothea. But he also needed to know if it was true.
11
AVELINA STOOD WITH the Duke of Wolfberg. Even though she enjoyed talking with him, she reminded herself of the fact that he was not a stable boy or a manservant, but a handsome duke.
She had made it through the one dance with the young baron’s son with the prominent front teeth. She only made two or three mistakes, including stepping on his foot. She’d been mortified, but he merely smiled and pretended not to notice. She never would have danced if not for wanting to give Lady Magdalen a chance to talk with Lord Thornbeck. He was so much less intimidating when one was speaking directly with him, with no one else around. She would almost say he was pleasant, and that there was gentleness, if one were able to get beneath his austere margrave facade. Perhaps Lady Magdalen would think so too if she had a chance to talk to him for a bit.
Surely he would fall in love with Lady Magdalen and choose her to be his bride. Who could not love her, with her sweet smile and calm contentment? She was sophisticated yet friendly and welcoming. She was everything a noblewoman should be. Lord Thornbeck must see that, if he spoke with her for even the length of time it took to dance one dance.
So Avelina had muddled through the dance. At least while she was dancing, Lady Fronicka had stopped trying to poison her with every hate-filled glance she threw her way while Avelina stood talking to Lord Thornbeck.
But when the music began again, the baron’s son moved away and asked someone else, and the Duke of Wolfberg had asked her to dance. She begged off, admitting to him that she was afraid she did not know the steps very well and would disgrace herself. He smiled most kindly—everyone was ever so kind to the woman they thought was Lady Dorothea—and stood talking with her, while Lady Fronicka dominated Lord Thornbeck’s attention.
“Were you glad to get Lord Thornbeck’s invitation to Thornbeck Castle?” the Duke of Wolfberg asked. “I was very glad to get away from home for a few days.”
“Oh, I have been pleasantly surprised at how enjoyable it has been.”
He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but a commotion seemed to be interrupting the musicians, who broke off their song on a discordant note.
Avelina and the duke both turned their heads to see who was shouting. A woman, looking very out of place in her dull-gray woolen kirtle and a bedraggled wimple covering her hair, was shaking her finger at the musicians.
“You should not be here,” she cried. “You were never here before. Annlin! Annlin!” She turned and cupped her mouth with her hands. “Annlin!” she called up the stairs.
“The woman must surely be mad,” the duke said quietly, as everyone in the room was now staring at her.
Lord Thornbeck, leaning on his cane, was walking toward her. Would he have her punished? Sent away with an angry rebuke for disturbing the ball?
“You there!” Lord Thornbeck shouted at a manservant. “Who’s responsible for watching her tonight?”
Jorgen appeared from the other end of the room and hurried toward them. The chancellor took the older woman’s elbow and nudged her toward the stairs. Lord Thornbeck said something near his ear, then turned and came back toward his guests.
The woman was still mumbling as though confused, but she complied with Jorgen and let him walk her up the stairs and away from the guests.
Lord Thornbeck nodded to the musicians as he rejoined Fronicka and several others at the perimeter of the room. The musicians soon announced another dance, but most of the guests remained clustered around Lord Thornbeck.
“Go back to dancing,” he said. “We shall have our dinner soon, so make the most of the music.”
“I wonder who that woman was,” the Duke of Wolfberg commented.
The woman could not be his mother, since his mother was dead. He didn’t have any sisters that she knew of, and the woman looked too old to be his sister anyway. Besides, she was wearing the clothing of a peasant or servant. But it was very strange to see a servant behaving in such a way. Lord Plimmwald would never have tolerated it. A servant like that would have been summarily sent away and ordered never to return to the castle. But Lord Thornbeck’s chancellor escorted her upstairs.