Rutger Menkels’s house was a large four-story, half-timber structure not far from the Marktplatz. The lowest floor was made of stone and plastered white, and the upper floors jutted a little farther over the street with each higher level. Plaster was criss-crossed with wooden beams that gave it a decorative look, along with striped shutters on the bottom floor.
When he reached the house, the windows were open to the warm night air, and he could hear the voices inside. The door was also open, the servants nowhere in sight, so Jorgen walked in.
Odette stood in the large ground-floor room wearing a beautiful blue dress, her hair hanging across her shoulders and down her back, with a few tiny braids that were interwoven with matching blue ribbons. She was talking to Mathis—or, rather, listening to him.
“The old margrave was a great friend of my father, and his oldest son ran the region like his father had before him, but the new margrave . . .” Mathis shook his head. “A lot of people don’t trust him.”
Odette’s gaze shifted to Jorgen standing just inside the doorway and her smile widened. “Jorgen! Come in.”
She motioned for him to join their conversation, making room for him between her and Mathis.
“Jorgen would know something of the new margrave.” Mathis turned toward Jorgen. “What do you think of him?”
Jorgen considered how to answer Mathis’s question about the margrave, the man whose duty it was to protect all the people of the region, especially from invaders from outside the Holy Roman Empire, since they were so near the northeast border. “He is a good and competent leader, as much as his father and brother were before him.”
Mathis raised his eyebrows. “My father says he’s never done anything except train as a knight, and he had just started training the fighting men who protect the castle. He couldn’t know anything about being a margrave.”
Odette looked from Mathis to Jorgen.
“Lord Thornbeck is very capable. He has learned what he needed to know to execute his duties well.”
“That is loyally spoken, Jorgen, but what makes you think so? Do you have that much confidence in his chancellor and chief advisor, our old friend Ulrich?”
Jorgen forced himself not to react to the jab Mathis aimed at him. Did he know that Jorgen feared the chancellor was trying to undermine the margrave’s confidence in him? “Lord Thornbeck, as I said, is a competent leader.”
“Competent.” Mathis shrugged. “Perhaps, but some people still question if he had anything to do with his brother’s death. A fire in the west wing? There’s never been a fire in the castle that I can recall, and this one originated in the margrave’s bedchamber.”
Jorgen had heard the rumors. He wanted to upbraid Mathis for his insinuation, but he tamped down his anger. “How do you know it originated in the bedchamber? False rumors are started by people who enjoy gossiping.”
Mathis shrugged again and smiled. “I cannot argue with that.”
Jorgen added, “And the current margrave was injured trying to save his brother from the fire. The burning bed collapsed on his foot as he tried to drag his brother to safety. He still walks with a limp.”
“Ja.” Mathis drew the word out, as though he doubted the truth of Jorgen’s statement.
The margrave must now have help to mount his own horse. A fact that greatly annoyed the former knight.
“I believe the victuals are now prepared,” Odette said cheerily. No doubt she was glad to end the uncomfortable conversation. “Shall we feast?”
When they reached the table laden with food of every kind, Jorgen somehow ended up sitting beside Odette and across from Mathis, Peter, and Anna. While they ate, Odette seemed to purposely maneuver the conversation to more pleasant topics. She smiled frequently and laughed almost as much. Even the gossip about the margrave barely dampened his enjoyment of the evening.
Rutger stood and proposed to speak of Odette’s virtues, and everyone grew quiet. “More than fifteen years ago, my beautiful niece’s father and mother died in the Great Pestilence. As I had been in the Orient, it took four years for word to reach me.” He looked down at Odette. “Bringing Odette to live with me here, in this house in Thornbeck, was the best thing I ever did. No man could ever ask for a better niece, and indeed, she is more like a daughter to me. She is kind, intelligent, and never idle, either in mind or in body. The man who can finally convince her to marry him will be a fortunate man indeed.”
Everyone around the table murmured their approval. Odette’s cheeks turned pink.