The Princess Spy

by Melanie Dickerson

  He’d never been more shocked — or more impressed — in his life.

  But once again, Colin found himself responsible for someone else’s well-being — two someones, if he included Anne, although he felt certain she would take the first opportunity to stay behind if they found a safe place for her.

  They left Bezilo in the care of Frau Lena’s friend, at her cottage in the glen. The noble and chivalrous guard off ered Colin his sword, the one he had used to kill Claybrook’s guards, but Colin refused it, feeling he could travel faster without it.

  Then they continued on, traveling along the edge of the forest next to the road to avoid being seen by Claybrook’s guards, who would be searching for them, to a place Margaretha knew where they could purchase horses.

  Margaretha chattered cheerfully most of the way, while Anne muttered frequent complaints. Colin only knew this, of course, because Margaretha, in her pleasant tone, translated for him. “It would be rude not to,” she had said.

  Often, after Anne whined about something, Margaretha would try to placate her. “Anne, if you walk behind Colin and me, you won’t catch your dress on so many thorns.”

  Or, “Anne, don’t worry about your hair. I will re-pin it for you before we arrive at the horse breeder’s.”

  Or, “Do you need a bandage for that scratch? I can make one for you from my chemise.”

  After less than an hour of walking, Anne spoke, then Margaretha translated, “Are we almost there? My feet are hurting and my shoes are getting ruined.”

  Margaretha replied in the German language, then translated for him into English, “We are almost there. Only five more minutes, I think.”

  As they walked, Colin asked, “Did you say this house we are going to was once owned by your sister’s family?”

  “Gisela, who is married to my brother, Lord Hamlin, lived here before she and Valten were married. And perhaps while we’re here, Anne and I should try to get some sturdier clothing for traveling. It’s a long way to Marienberg. Gisela probably left some clothes here after she and Valten married.”

  Anne interrupted Margaretha in her unintelligible foreign tongue. Then Margaretha told him that Anne had said, “I will be traveling straight home as soon as I get a horse. I do not intend to spend any more time trying to fight some war. I am a lady, the granddaughter of a duke! I am not accustomed to such treatment.”

  Colin glanced back at Anne. He was not the least threatened by her being the granddaughter of a duke. “One of the first places Claybrook’s guards will look for Lady Margaretha is your home. It is nearby, is it not?”

  After Margaretha translated, Anne made a choking sound, then coughed. “He won’t be looking for me, and surely he wouldn’t hurt my family.”

  “How many guards does your father keep? He is the second son, is he not?” Before Margaretha could translate his words to Anne, he said, “Claybrook has more. A lot more. But I do not believe they will harm you or Margaretha. Claybrook still probably intends to marry her, and he has no reason to harm you, Lady Anne. I believe you will both be safe at your father’s home.”

  After she translated for Anne, Margaretha stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I will not stay with Anne at her father’s home. I am going to Marienberg to get help. I will not be left behind. Besides, I would rather die than marry Lord Claybrook.”

  “You won’t have to marry him if I bring the Duke of Marienberg here to help your father save Hagenheim and capture Claybrook.” Why couldn’t she simply do as he asked? “You don’t have to be brave and courageous, Margaretha. You should be like your cousin, Anne. She’s thinking about keeping herself safe, and you should be too.”

  He instantly saw that he’d said the wrong thing. Never tell someone they should be like their sister, cousin, brother, or anyone else. Margaretha’s face turned red, and she opened her mouth, but Anne hurried to get in front of Colin.

  Anne faced him and stomped her foot. She looked a lot like his little sister did when she was three and couldn’t have her way. Her nostrils flared and her eyes flashed.

  He liked his sister much more now that she didn’t throw these little fits.

  He started to walk around Anne but she moved in front of him again. She spoke, her eyes still flashing, then Margaretha translated, “How dare you insinuate that I am a coward!”

  Margaretha had not translated his words. “You understood what I said?”

  “I know a little English,” Anne said in English, then, still speaking in English, she asked, “Who do you think you are, insulting me?”

  “I know quite well who I am.” Colin crossed his arms, looking back at her calmly. “I am the oldest son and heir of one of the wealthiest landowners in all of England. My father was given an earldom by the king of England, which shall pass to me. Therefore, you may call me Lord le Wyse of Glynval.” He executed his most elegant bow to Anne.

  She glared at him for a few more moments before unclenching her fists and smoothing the skirt of her gown with her hands. “Very well,” she said. “Lord le Wyse, I shall do as you say — for now.” She spoke the entire response in English.

  So she had studied the language. Obviously she had understood much more than she had pretended. Did she speak English as well as Margaretha and only feigned ignorance for pure annoyance?

  Margaretha stopped Anne and forced her to look at her. She asked in English, “Anne, do you speak English?”

  “Of course.” Anne grinned smugly. “I studied under the same tutor you did. Don’t you remember? He spent half his year with you and the other half with me.”

  Not the most forthright girl. He’d have to remember that.

  The two of them spoke quietly behind him. They started out in English, with Margaretha saying, “Anne, you should have told us you understood. Why would you make me translate for you and keep such a thing a secret?”

  “I was only trying to listen for a while in order to refresh my memory of the language.”

  But then Anne began speaking in German again and he didn’t understand a word. They talked in hushed voices, and this time Margaretha did not translate for him. Anne probably told her not to.

  They came to a break in the trees, with a meadow on either side of the road.

  “There’s the horse breeder’s house.” Margaretha hurried forward. A large stone and half-timber house came into view across the road in the clearing. Beyond it was a meadow and stables.

  Colin listened and looked carefully up and down the road before they ventured out. But no sooner did he get two feet onto the road when he heard horses’ hoofs, and he stepped back into the cover of the trees.

  Margaretha, Colin, and Anne squatted behind trees as the horses drew closer.

  “Who is it?” Anne asked.

  Margaretha shook her head and Colin motioned for them to stay quiet. Her question was answered as a group of about five of Claybrook’s guards came into view. They slowed when they saw Gisela’s old house, then rode straight up to it. Two men stationed themselves outside while the others pounded on the door, then forced their way inside.

  Colin whispered, “Claybrook must have known about this place.”

  Yes, Margaretha had told him all about it. He had asked her all kinds of questions that had led her to go on and on about her family and all their friends and allies, their extended family members, and their family houses. How readily she had revealed the things he could now use against them.

  If only she didn’t talk so much. But how could she have known he would use the information to try to take over Hagenheim?

  Colin went on. “He assumed this is where we would go to get horses, which means he knows we have escaped.”

  Margaretha looked at Colin. His lip was still swollen. The image of Claybrook mercilessly striking him rose before her. She didn’t want to be the cause of any more abuse inflicted upon him by Claybrook or his men.

  “This is my fight, and only mine,” Margaretha said quietly. “It is my family that Claybrook is after, my town he wan
ts to rule over. You two should find a place of safety and leave me to travel on to Marienberg alone.”

  He turned those intense blue eyes on her. “You are wrong, Lady Margaretha, for this was my fight before it was yours. I followed Claybrook here in order to bring about justice after he murdered my sister’s friend, then watched his men murder my friend John, and I will not give up until I see justice done.” His expression seemed to soften as he added, “I appreciate your courage, but it is you who should find a place of safety. I would feel responsible if something terrible happened to you.”

  Was he truly so concerned about her?

  “And what about my safety?” Anne asked. “Isn’t anyone concerned about me?”

  “I am concerned about your safety as well, Lady Anne.” Colin cleared his throat. “Margaretha, does Claybrook know of your family in Marienberg?”

  “We spoke of them a few times. He asked me about them. I’m afraid I told him many things I shouldn’t have.”

  “Then I think you and Lady Anne must go to her home. If none of Claybrook’s guards are there, the two of you should stay.”

  “What if they torture us to force us to tell them where you have gone?” Anne looked as if she might burst into tears.

  “You must tell them that I’ve gone to Marienberg. Claybrook will naturally have assumed this anyway. He will send men to look for me. It cannot be helped, and I would not have them torture you.”

  Margaretha set her hands on her hips and clenched her jaw. “No. For the last time, I am going to Marienberg.”

  Colin sighed and shook his head. She hoped this was a sign of his resignation.

  They could do this. Margaretha was sure of it. God was always on the side of the righteous, and He would be with them.

  Colin felt sorry he had called Margaretha a flibbertigibbet. She wasn’t a flibbertigibbet, she was the bravest, the most stubborn, and the most frustrating girl he had ever met. Why couldn’t she listen to him, stay out of danger, and wait for her deliverance like the gentle-bred daughter of a duke that she was?

  Trying to reason with her was getting him nowhere. If she had seen Philippa’s bloated body after it was pulled from the river, or John’s bloodied and lifeless face as he lay dead on the side of the road, maybe then she would understand what kind of danger she was in — and how inadequate he was to protect her.

  He had started off this journey so arrogant. At home in England, he was self-assured, but his sense of power had rarely been tested as the son of a wealthy earl. How exceedingly foolish he had been to come here, where he’d had the self-assurance beaten right out of him. He no longer felt as if he could protect anyone.

  But Margaretha was determined to go with him, and she would not let him convince her she was being foolish. She wanted to help her family and her townspeople.

  He would simply have to bide his time and wait for an opportunity to leave her somewhere safe. And the likeliest place remained Anne’s father’s house.

  “How far is it to Lord Rupert’s house?”

  “About an hour’s walk from here.”

  Claybrook’s guards were still where they were several minutes before. They could get no horses here, so Colin set out with Margaretha and Anne, once again staying off the road.

  When they had walked several minutes, they came to a tiny village. They decided not to show themselves together, and since Margaretha was the only one who had money, Colin and Anne waited in the woods while Margaretha went to the village to try to buy some food.

  As he sat pondering the road ahead, Anne’s voice broke into his thoughts. In heavily accented English, she asked, “My cousin is very beautiful, ja?” Anne’s expression was coy. When he didn’t answer, she added, “But she is . . . how do you say in English? Very . . . close to her family. I have heard her say she could never leave her family to marry.”

  He raised his eyebrows at her, wary of what she might say next. However, his curiosity made him say, “So Margaretha doesn’t wish to marry? Or hasn’t anyone offered for her?”

  “Oh, she has suitors enough, but she has turned them all down.” She smiled. “I myself can marry anyone I choose.” Anne tilted her head down and looked up at him through her lashes, as if she was trying to look demure.

  Margaretha had no desire to leave her family, and therefore she would never marry Colin and go back to England — or so Anne wanted him to believe. He didn’t doubt it was true, but it didn’t matter. He hadn’t come to the Holy Roman Empire to find a wife, and Margaretha had shown no signs of wanting him. So why did Anne’s words make his heart sink?

  “I don’t know if you realize this,” Anne said, “but you have the most beautiful blue eyes.” She leaned back against a tree and smiled at him, fluttering her eyelids.

  What a fool he was to tell Anne that he was the son of a wealthy earl. He liked it better when she pretended she only spoke German. In another minute, she would probably tell him she didn’t mind leaving her family to go to England.

  “I think I had better see if Lady Margaretha needs any help.” He moved toward the road that led into the village.

  “I will wait here.” Anne looked at him from beneath half-closed eyelids.

  He had to force himself to walk, not run, in the direction of the village.

  Chapter

  18

  Margaretha had never bought food before. She had never bought anything before. If she wanted something, she gave the money to a servant and let them go to the market or to a shop for her, or a family member or servant accompanied her to the market and paid for whatever she wanted. But how hard could it be? Besides, she hadn’t eaten anything all day. She’d woken up before dawn to spy on Lord Claybrook and the captain of his guard and had missed breakfast, and now the sun was directly overhead. She had been in too much turmoil to notice how hungry she was earlier, but now that there was hope that she might find food, her stomach was growling loudly enough to frighten the birds in the trees.

  A woman was coming toward her. Her hair was covered by a cloth tied at the back of her neck. She carried something in her apron as she clutched the corners to her bosom.

  “Guten Tag,” Margaretha said with a shy smile.

  The woman stared hard at her. Finally, she answered, “Ja, Fraulein. Guten Tag.” But she still looked suspicious and almost frightened. Perhaps she was only surprised to see someone, especially a young woman alone, come strolling into her village, someone she had never seen before. The woman undoubtedly had lived in the village her whole life. Villagers of the Holy Roman Empire didn’t travel much, and they rarely left their village to go live elsewhere, except perhaps to marry someone from another village.

  Besides that, Margaretha’s lustrous pale-green silk cotehardie and dark emerald undergown, made of fine linen, would cause her to stand out. As she encountered more people in the village’s street, she saw that the women were dressed in woolen kirtles of nondescript brown and gray and dull green. Their underdresses were of gray linen, and they kept their hair covered with opaque cloths instead of the light veils that Margaretha and her sisters wore. Only Margaretha wasn’t wearing anything on her head. In the chaos of the day, she hadn’t even braided it, and it was tied at the base of her neck with a red ribbon. Several strands had escaped, and Margaretha had tucked them behind her ears.

  Her dress was not her best or fanciest, but now she felt almost embarrassed to be wearing such luxurious clothing. She would not go unnoticed, walking across Saxony wearing such a dress. She had to find something less conspicuous. How glad she was that she had not put on her grandmother’s bracelet that morning. She hoped it was still safe at home. However, she did wish she had the ring Claybrook had given her. She could have traded it for several dresses, as well as for something to cover her voluminous hair, which was as wavy and unruly as her mother’s similar chestnut hair.

  But first, she had to feed the growling monster in her stomach.

  There were only a few shops in this village. Besides the blacksmith, there was
also a butcher shop, a brewery, and a tannery. But somewhere ahead, Margaretha smelled bread.

  Finally, she found the baker’s shop. She walked in and asked for a loaf of his finest bread.

  The baker stared at her much like the woman in the street had. He was slathering melting butter on a slice of bread as he sat on a stool. No doubt he was having his midday meal. Margaretha’s mouth watered so much she was afraid to say anything else. Instead, she waited for him to speak.

  “Half a mark,” he finally said, getting up and grabbing a loaf from a shelf just behind him.

  Oh yes. She’d almost forgotten she had to give him money. Margaretha lifted her purse from where it hung from her belt. She opened it and poured some of the coins into her hand, but she couldn’t find anything of less value than a mark.

  “Two loaves?” She laid the coin in his open hand. He raised his eyebrows and studied the coin, then he gave her two loaves of bread. Margaretha tucked the bread under her arm and asked, “Do you have any cheese?”

  He looked askance at her. “No cheese here.”

  Margaretha nodded to him and left the tiny shop. As she walked, she encountered a woman with a basket of eggs. “May I buy some eggs from you?”

  “What will you give me?” the woman asked. She had the most enormous brown mole on her chin that Margaretha had ever seen, and it had several hairs growing out of it.

  “One mark?”

  “Let me see it.”

  Margaretha lifted out her purse again, took out a coin, and showed it to the woman.

  She didn’t take her eyes off the coin, but said, “How many eggs do you want?” as if she was talking to the money.

  How many could she carry without breaking them? “May I have five?”

  The woman reached into her basket and drew out five eggs, which Margaretha carefully placed in her purse. She gave the woman the coin, then gently closed her purse and let it dangle from her belt.