Some of the other maidservants turned to look at her, waiting to hear her answer.
Her heart pounded. She must play her part. “He doesn’t care for me now that he knows I’m only a maidservant. He would get rid of me if he could.”
“Why doesn’t he send you away, then?”
More eyes turned to stare.
“He would, but Plimmwald’s guards haven’t come to fetch me yet, and I injured my ankle. Wolf attack.”
“But did Lord Thornbeck not save you from the wolves?”
“He did not know it was me. He heard screams and came to help.” She shrugged.
At least they were not looking at her with hatred or resentment.
“Did you like talking to him? To Lord Thornbeck?” a young maidservant who was kneading bread dough asked.
“Anyone would.”
“Is he just as handsome close up?”
They were all staring at her now, even Cook.
“He is even more handsome close up.”
“Did he kiss you?” This eager question came from another young maidservant.
Avelina shook her head, the heat rising into her cheeks.
“That’s enough,” Cook said. “Get back to your chores before I send you all home.”
They complied, but she noticed a couple of them giving her shy smiles. The plan was working.
When it was time for their midday meal, Avelina was given a place at the table with the other servants, including Gerhaws, who appeared in the kitchen just as the food was being served.
One of the youngest servants brought Avelina a stool so she could prop up her injured foot. “Tell us about the margrave. Was he very chivalrous and romantic?”
So while they ate, Avelina told them stories about her time with the margrave. The things she held closest to her heart—certain things he had said and certain looks—she did not reveal, but she told them endearing stories that illustrated his kindness and bravery—how he gave money to the orphans in the street, and how he had pulled her up as she clung to the broken railing on the balcony. The maidservants hung on her every word.
But it was Gerhaws she needed to get close to. Gerhaws who might know what Geitbart’s next move would be.
Finally, after the meal, Cook said, “Gerhaws, you and Avelina go to the dairy and churn the butter. When you’ve finished, bring it to the kitchen.”
So Avelina found herself alone with Gerhaws in the cool of the stone-walled dairy.
As soon as they sat down to the two butter churns, Gerhaws took a small flask out of a pocket in her apron and brought it to her lips. “It’s very good strong spirits. I can show you where it’s kept if you want some.”
“Thank you. Maybe tonight. I only imbibe strong drink after the sun goes down.” Avelina started working the wooden staff up and down in the tall churn.
Gerhaws worked with one hand while she held the flask in the other and frequently took a drink. The work was dull and monotonous, and Avelina did her best to get Gerhaws to talk, asking her about her life, how long she had been at Thornbeck Castle, and what she knew about the other inhabitants.
“I’ve been at Thornbeck Castle two years now. Most people don’t know that I came here from a little village in the Geitbart region.” She took another drink. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but it won’t matter soon.”
“It won’t?” Avelina’s heart beat faster. “Why won’t it matter?”
Gerhaws chuckled and shook her head, moving the staff up and down in her churn. She took another drink and stared at the floor, as if she had forgotten Avelina’s question.
Avelina kept churning. It had been a very long time since she had churned butter, since she was a girl of nine or ten years, so her arms were already getting tired from the unaccustomed motion.
“Lady Fronicka is taking me back to my home,” Gerhaws said, her words slow and labored.
“Why is Lady Fronicka taking you back to your home?”
“I don’t know why Cook sent you here to work with me. I always work alone.”
“Why do you always work alone?” Avelina kept her eyes on her.
“Is it warm in here?” Gerhaws blew out a breath, then touched the back of her hand to her forehead.
“Why is Lady Fronicka taking you back to your home, Gerhaws? Gerhaws, can you hear me?”
“Of course I hear . . . She’s taking me back . . .”
The woman’s face was flushed. Avelina had seen Lord Plimmwald when he had overindulged in strong drink, and this was how he looked—red nose and cheeks, red-rimmed eyes, and slow movements and speech.