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The Beautiful Pretender (A Medieval Fairy Tale #2)(4)

Author:Melanie Dickerson

Avelina almost said, “But if you don’t go, they will suspect something is amiss.” She bit her lip and refrained, not wanting to risk a tongue-lashing. Dorothea’s green eyes were ablaze, even as they swam with tears.

“What did your father say?”

“He says I must go, that I can simply wear looser clothing.” She scrunched her nose and curled her lip. “Father says I can give the child to someone far away and forget about it after it’s born.” She folded her arms across her chest and stomped her foot. “But I want to marry Dietric.”

Avelina’s breath stilled. Would she defy her father?

“Get my things packed into some traveling bags.” Dorothea smeared the tears over her face with her fingers and hurried to one of her trunks. She started throwing clothing on the bed. “Pack these.”

“Will you leave right away? Should you not wait until morning, at the least?”

“I must go now. My father plans to send me to Thornbeck in the morning.” She set her jaw, closing her eyes for a moment. “If Dietric refuses to take me away, I’ll kill myself.”

She said those last words so calmly, a chill went through Avelina.

“Make haste, Ava! Don’t just stand there.”

Avelina ran and grabbed a traveling bag from another trunk and began rolling her mistress’s clothing into tight bundles to keep them from wrinkling, then stuffing them into the leather bag. But her heart was in her throat. If she helped Dorothea run away with Sir Dietric, what would the earl do to her? But if she didn’t help Dorothea, she might do violence to herself.

Avelina continued stuffing clothing into the bag until it was full and she had to retrieve another bag.

“Put that down for a moment,” Dorothea said suddenly, striding to the trunk against the far wall and opening it. “I need you to open a lock for me.” She bent and drew out two ornate ivory boxes that contained all of the family jewelry. Her father said he would give her the key when she got married. But Dorothea could never accept being locked out of anything. Consequently she had forced Avelina to learn a new skill.

Avelina retrieved her metal tool out of her woolen bag. She picked up the first box and went to work with the hooked end of the long, slim piece of metal she had gotten from the castle blacksmith. In a few moments she had opened the box, and a few moments after that, the second box lay open.

Dorothea barely gave the boxes a glance. “Put some into each bag so all of my jewels are not in one place.”

Avelina wrapped the bejeweled necklaces, bracelets, and rings inside various pieces of clothing. Soon she had nearly filled a second bag.

A noise came from outside. Dorothea ran to the narrow window and flung it open, letting in the cold, late-autumn air. She stuck her head out. “Dietric!” She gasped the name, then flung her arm out, obviously throwing something down, possibly a note. Then she stood still, her hand covering her mouth as she watched.

Avelina turned back to her task, lest Dorothea scold her, but she listened for signs of what was happening behind her at the window. After a few more moments Dorothea let out a cry of joy. “Make haste and give me the bags.”

Avelina tossed her a bag, and Dorothea pushed it through the small window and dropped it, then turned and held out her hands for the second bag and tossed it down as well.

Avelina approached the window as the end of a rope came sailing through. Dorothea caught it and tied it to the post of the solid oak bed.

She wanted to ask Dorothea if she was certain she was doing the correct thing but instead caught hold of her arm.

Dorothea’s cloudy green eyes barely met hers. “You should not try to stop me, Ava. I will not yield nor give Dietric up. Not for anyone. I don’t care what Father says.”

“I will not try to stop you.” She thought of hugging Dorothea, of telling her to be careful. But it wasn’t the sort of thing her mistress would stay still for.

Dorothea grabbed the rope. Avelina helped her up to a sitting position inside the window as Dorothea said, “Don’t go and marry some peasant farmer who can’t give you pretty things.”

Without another word or even a smile or glance, Dorothea quickly lowered herself out the window, hand over hand on the rope. Avelina hung her head out the window to see Sir Dietric standing below with outstretched arms. Dorothea made it to the bottom without losing her grip and was enveloped in her lover’s waiting arms. He helped her onto her horse, then mounted his own, and they disappeared into the dark night and thick fog.

“Fare well, Dorothea,” Avelina whispered. “You were sometimes cross and vindictive, but we were companions for many years, and I will miss you.”

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