She wiped her face with her hands and nodded.
He held out his arm to her, and she clasped it with both hands. She kept her head down as they walked. Neither of them spoke until they were outside the town gate.
We did it. It must have been a miracle.
It wasn’t until later that he realized he had not found out anything about the band of poachers or their black-market activities.
“The forester is here to see you.” Heinke stood beside Odette’s bed looking down at her.
Her brain was so hazy. Hadn’t she only just gone to sleep? The hunt had been long and difficult last night. She had not been able to shoot anything and had gotten home just as dawn was lightening the sky.
“Odette! Please wake up. What shall I tell the forester?”
“The forester?” She sat up. “Jorgen?” Her eyes flitted to the trunk against the wall. Had she remembered to put away her bow and arrows? She did not see them anywhere. Had Jorgen seen her walking home with them, wearing her hunting clothes and looking like a boy?
“What does he want?” She threw off the linen bedclothes.
“He said he wanted to talk with you. Shall I tell him you are sick?”
“No. Tell him I will be there in a moment.” She jumped out of bed and glanced out the window. It must be midmorning. She’d probably slept about four hours. She rinsed her mouth out with water, then drank a gulp. She popped a mint leaf in her mouth and chewed it.
Heinke came back and helped her on with a pale-green gown. A contrasting emerald-green band with gold stitching decorated the neckline and hemline. The belt was also made of the same emerald-green material and gold stitching as the band. Heinke covered her single blond braid with a silk wimple, secured with a circlet.
Her heart fluttered as she went down the stairs to meet Jorgen.
He stood waiting for her in the large room that served as a sitting room as well as a dining room. As he turned to face her, she couldn’t help thinking how good he looked with his hair brushed to one side and wearing his work clothes—a soft leather cotehardie in a shade of green that matched his eyes and a white shirt that peeked from underneath it, encircling the base of his neck. He was hoodless, since it was such a warm day already. Something about the way his dark-blond hair curled around his ears made her want to touch it.
Foolish thought. She should remember that the reason he was here might be because he suspected she was the poacher.
One side of his face was in shadow, and he did not step out into the light coming through the window, even when she approached.
“Odette.” The way he smiled—sort of sheepishly—put her at ease. “I hope you do not mind that I came to your home to speak to you.”
“I don’t mind at all, if you do not mind if I break my fast while you talk.” She led him into the kitchen and motioned for him to sit with her at the rough wooden table near where Cook was working.
Cook set bread and sweet cream and pasties filled with stewed fruit in front of them.
Odette bit into an apricot pasty. She had not eaten anything before going to sleep after her long hunt the night before, and it tasted wonderful.
When she looked across the table at him, she quickly swallowed her bite of food, nearly choking. “What happened to your face?”
His left cheekbone was bruised dark purple, and the left side of his lip was puffy with a dark line, like a cut.
“Does it look that bad?” He grimaced and rubbed his jaw.
“Did you get in a fight?”
“It will take me a little while to tell you all of it, and I was hoping . . .”
Odette gestured at the food in front of him, but Jorgen shook his head.
“I was wondering if you would come with me. I need you to speak to a young maiden.”
“A young maiden?” She took another bite of food.
“I rescued her from The Red House.”
The bite of apricot pasty got sucked down Odette’s throat, and she coughed violently. Jorgen stood and pounded her on the back.
Finally Odette ceased coughing. “Did you say you rescued her from The Red House?”
“She has been crying and my mother thinks she will leave, but she is an orphan and has nowhere else to go.” He spoke quickly, as though afraid she would stop him. “I thought perhaps you could convince her to stay, or if she refuses to stay, you could find her somewhere else to go.”
Odette tried to hide her shock. What was Jorgen doing at The Red House? And what did he mean, he rescued a maiden from there? “Who is crying? Can you begin again? Maybe I am still half asleep, because I thought you said you rescued a maiden from The Red House.”