Lady Fronicka strode forward. “Lord Thornbeck, I—”
“I trust you enjoyed the ball, Lady Fronicka, and I bid you a good night.” He bowed to her, turned, and strode away.
12
AVELINA AWOKE TO someone knocking at her door. Sunlight streamed through the edges of the shutters on the windows. She leapt out of bed and hurried to drag the heavy trunk away so she could open the door. When she had pulled it far enough to open the door a foot, she peered out at Frau Schwitzer standing in the corridor.
“Lord Thornbeck sent you these.” She held out a portable desk—a wooden box with a slanted lid. “You will find paper, ink, and a quill inside.”
“Thank you, Frau Schwitzer.” Avelina took the box, tilting it sideways to get it through the doorway, and started to close the door.
“Lady Dorothea?”
“Ja?”
“Is something amiss?”
“No, all is well. Thank you.” She closed the door on the servant’s puzzled expression. She didn’t bother to push the trunk either against the door or back where she had found it but walked over to the window seat and placed the wooden box on the cushion.
The heavy chair still stood against the door that connected Avelina’s bedchamber to the small room where Irma slept. She stepped to her bed and threw the covers all the way back. No spiders or snakes anywhere to be seen.
Avelina sighed and lay across the bed.
Today was only her fourth day here. Ten more to go. She sighed again. But it wasn’t all bad. She closed her eyes and relived her terror when Lord Thornbeck pulled her aside and asked if she was with child and in love with a knight. But squeezing her eyes tighter, she concentrated not on her fear but on his expression . . . his eyes . . . his lips . . . his dark brows and the way his dark hair hung over his forehead. She remembered his voice, the words he had spoken to her, and her stomach did that strange flip it often did when she thought about the margrave.
Magdalen was a fortunate woman if she married him. She would get to listen to that deep voice and look into those brown eyes for the rest of her life.
She sat up. “Irma.” She went over and moved the heavy chair from in front of Irma’s door. “Irma, get up and help me get dressed and fix my hair.”
Avelina opened the door and Irma threw an arm over her face and groaned. “So high and mighty,” she grumbled. “A week ago you were naught but Lady Dorothea’s servant girl.” Irma lay unmoving.
The scent of strong drink assaulted Avelina’s nose. “What have you been drinking?”
Irma groaned again. “Stop shouting. I’ll be up in a thrice.” Still, she did not move.
“Have you been drinking with that Gerhaws woman again? I do not think she is a good influence on you.”
Avelina got her own gown and began to dress. Then she hurried to Magdalen’s bedchamber and knocked softly on the door.
In less than half an hour, Avelina was hurrying Magdalen down the stairs.
“Remember,” Avelina whispered, “if Lord Thornbeck is in the library, tell him you want to read The Song of Roland and ask him if you may borrow it.”
“Very well, Dorothea, but I do not think it is me Lord Thornbeck is interested in.”
Avelina stopped abruptly and stared at her friend. “What do you mean?”
“You must admit, he did show a lot of interest in you at the ball last night, coming all the way around to the other side of the room to talk to you.”
“Do you mean during the dance? That was only because I was the only one not dancing. He did not want to see me standing alone. He would have done the same for any of the ladies.”
“And if I am not mistaken, he took you aside on the way to the Great Hall so he could sit beside you.”
“Nein, nein, nein. He took me aside because . . .” Avelina glanced around. The corridor was still and silent. There seemed to be no one else nearby. She lowered her voice even more. “Fronicka had told him some gossip about me, and he was asking me if it was true.”
Lady Magdalen gasped. “What kind of gossip? What did she say?”
Avelina probably shouldn’t tell her, but Magdalen would not tell anyone. “He told me that Fronicka said I was with child and the baby belonged to one of my father’s knights. I assured him it was completely false.”
Magdalen shook her head, her eyes wide. “I cannot believe she would say such a thing. She truly is evil to make up a tale like that and tell it to Lord Thornbeck. He believed you, did he not?”
Avelina nodded, a shard of guilt piercing her at allowing Magdalen to think Fronicka had made up the story. “I think he believed me.”