The Princess Spy

by Melanie Dickerson

  “I talk too much.” Her voice was soft but vibrant. “And I’m a flibbertigibbet.”

  He also knew he shouldn’t do what he was about to do, but . . . he raised his hand to her chin and lifted her face until he could gaze into her eyes. Her lips looked soft and inviting, but he did not have the right to kiss her, as he was not betrothed to her and had no hope of being so.

  He let go of her chin and closed his eyes.

  She leaned her head back against his shoulder, turning so her forehead was nestled against his neck.

  “I told you before,” he said. “I like hearing you talk. And I was wrong. You are not a flibbertigibbet.”

  “So you think I am a good spy?”

  He smiled as he adjusted his arms around her. “You are a very good spy.”

  Margaretha awoke feeling warm and comfortable. What was so heavy against her legs? She opened her eyes. Toby lay in her lap and Colin’s arm was around her, and she remembered. Guilt pricked her at how good it felt to be surrounded by his arms, his warm chest behind her. The sound of his steady breathing next to her ear sent a tingling sensation across her shoulders.

  Colin shifted slightly. His breathing changed and became less heavy; he was awake.

  “Am I hurting you?” she whispered.

  “No. But I should get up. It sounds like the rain stopped.” He started sliding away from her.

  Margaretha leaned forward and tried not to wake Toby, but he sat up and rubbed his eyes. They all got up and peeked out the door. It had not stopped raining entirely, but it was more of a mist falling from the sky.

  “I’ll go check the snares.”

  “We’ll come with you.” She should probably leave Toby behind, but she had a feeling he would not allow himself to be left.

  Margaretha and Toby followed Colin outside, holding the blanket over their heads. Toby seemed to think it was a game and smiled as they darted around the trees and almost lost Colin a few times.

  Colin’s snares ended up containing three plump hares, one in the noose of each snare. They followed Colin to the rock outcropping, which sheltered them, somewhat, from the heavy mist that clung to their eyelashes.

  Colin skinned the hares, which made Margaretha avert her eyes and Toby gasp in delight at his skill. He had found a pile of dry wood that had been covered with an oiled tarp underneath the rock outcropping, and he used it to build a small fire. He also made a crude spit from sticks, and he roasted the hares over the fire. They smelled so good, Margaretha’s stomach competed with Toby’s to see whose could growl louder, making them both giggle.

  When it was done, Colin presented the meat to them on “platters” of wet leaves.

  Switching to English, Margaretha asked, “Where did you learn such important skills as catching and skinning hares?”

  “I was a boy like most others, roaming over the English countryside looking for adventure. But John taught me about snares and cooking game.” A flicker of pain crossed his face as he looked down.

  No wonder he displayed so much passion to bring Claybrook to justice. In his grief, he was angry. Her mother had once told her, “When women are sad, they cry, but when men are sad, they get angry.”

  He handed Toby a piece of cooled meat.

  For all she knew, Claybrook may have killed her family members. But somehow, she just couldn’t imagine that happening. Her faith in her father — and her brother Valten as well — was too great to think they might have allowed a peacock like Claybrook to defeat them. And once they were able to reach Marienberg and her cousin, Duke Theodemar, brought his fighting men, Claybrook would finally receive the punishment he deserved.

  The three of them finished the first hare in no time. Never had anything tasted so good, and she enjoyed watching Toby eat so eagerly, even smiling up at her while he chewed.

  Surely it would be wrong not to take him with them. He might be in danger on the road with them, but he was also in danger if they left him here to be mistreated by his master.

  They ate most of the second one and wrapped the rest in the hemp bag they had taken from the stable.

  “The rain has mostly stopped,” Margaretha said as they went to the nearby stream for a drink. “There are a few more hours of daylight left.”

  Colin nodded. “Let us be off, then. Good-bye, Toby. Auf Wiedersehen!”

  Toby looked like he might cry. He ran and threw his arms around Margaretha’s legs. “Take me with you. Please take me with you. I promise I will be good and will obey everything you tell me, if you will only take me with you.”

  Margaretha translated the words for Colin that were breaking her heart.

  “You know we can’t take him.” There was an edge of panic in Colin’s voice. “Tell me you know that.”

  Margaretha hoped he saw the plea in her eyes. “How can we leave him here? You know he will be treated badly. No one here cares for him at all. He is an orphan, and my mother would dearly love to take care of him, I know she would.”

  “No, Margaretha, no. Be reasonable. It is not a good idea. He is a human person, not a pet.”

  “I know that!”

  “He won’t be safe with us. And we have a responsibility to get to Marienberg and try to save Hagenheim.”

  “Of course I know that. But he won’t slow us down. I’ll carry him on my shoulders if he gets tired. I used to do the same thing with my brothers.”

  “He doesn’t belong with us. He belongs here.” But Colin’s voice was taking on a bit of a pleading tone as well, and she sensed his stance was beginning to weaken.

  “His master treats him like a slave. Did you not see the bruise on his cheek and the fingerprint bruises on his arms? Can you bear to leave him here and let him be abused?” Her voice was beginning to vibrate, and she took a deep breath in an effort to remain calm. She didn’t want to frighten Toby.

  Colin looked almost desperate. “He will be in danger with us!”

  Margaretha held out her hands, palm up. “In danger if he goes with us, and in danger if he stays. Please allow him to come with us. He will not be any trouble.”

  Colin sighed heavily. “What if . . . what if we can’t keep him safe? He is a small child. He may be killed if he goes with us.”

  He was thinking of his friend’s death. He was afraid of the child dying, afraid he couldn’t keep the child safe. The pain in his eyes made her stomach twist in sympathy.

  He said in a defeated tone, “I can’t keep you or this child safe. Don’t you see? I could not have kept you safe with those bandits who stole our horses. They could have killed you and there was nothing I could have done.”

  His voice broke on the last word, breaking her heart along with it.

  “Colin.”

  He sighed, making her heart constrict.

  His hair was still wet and curled at his temples and below his ears. Several days’ growth of beard made him look even more endearing. Oh, Colin.

  “I cannot tell you to leave him here. I don’t want him to be beaten and mistreated any more than you do.” Colin hung his head and turned away from her.

  Margaretha’s heart ached so much, and the only cure for it seemed to be to throw her arms around him. So she did. “Don’t worry,” she said against his chest. “We won’t die. I can’t tell you how I know, but I just know that God will keep us safe. I have peace that we will all be well. I know that peace has to be from God.”

  When she pulled away, still clutching his arms, he was staring down at her. “Peace.” He shook his head, a slight movement. He still looked wrung out and sad. “I haven’t had peace since I left England. But I know that isn’t God’s fault. It’s mine.”

  Margaretha pressed her cheek to his chest again, holding him tightly. “You will get your peace back. God is with you. Don’t worry.”

  When he put his hands on her back and pressed his cheek against the top of her head, she felt even more sure that all would be well.

  Chapter

  27

  Colin awoke the next morning
to fog, Margaretha and Toby still asleep. They had gone back to the stable with the idea of trying to steal a couple of horses — and to eventually return them when all was well again in Hagenheim — but when they drew near, they saw two men milling around outside. One looked angry, and the other was calling for Toby, which caused the little boy to cling tightly to Margaretha.

  Colin couldn’t bear to turn the boy over to them, so they hurried away before they were seen. They had to leave their own clothes behind, wearing the clothing they had taken from the trunk in the barn.

  They walked for hours, and the last hour of that time, Colin had carried Toby on his shoulders. They bedded down for the night under a thicket of birch trees, as they could find no better shelter. The air was quite cold, and all three of them rolled up in the blanket they had brought with them, with Toby in the middle. The little boy fell asleep with his face tucked against Margaretha’s shoulder and clutching her dress in his hand.

  Colin understood why Toby had become so attached to Margaretha in such a short time. And he wasn’t the only one.

  Margaretha’s hair glowed in the morning sun. The rain, mist, and fog had made it thicker and curlier.

  He had hurriedly set two snares the night before, which yielded two more hares. As he built a small fire and Margaretha washed Toby’s face with a piece of her undergown she had been carrying around, Colin said, “You look beautiful today.”

  She turned to him with wide eyes and her mouth open. “My hair is a mess and I’ve been living like a traveling minstrel for the last week.” She laughed merrily, then translated for Toby, who was looking mystified at her.

  Toby didn’t laugh, he only smiled at Colin and nodded.

  “See? The child agrees with me.”

  Margaretha shook her head. “He only thinks I’m beautiful because he loves me.” And she hugged him.

  Colin stared at her. Did he, Colin, only think she was beautiful because he loved her? “No, even if we didn’t love you, we would still think you were beautiful.”

  He continued working to build the fire, adding sticks, and eventually noticed that Margaretha was quiet.

  “What did you say?” Her cheeks were pink.

  “I said you are beautiful.”

  She was quiet, until Toby grabbed her hand and pulled her away to a patch of pink and blue wildflowers. They picked some and Toby tied the stems to strands of her hair.

  Colin kept getting distracted and looking over at them until he burned himself. “Ouch.” He blew on his soot-smudged finger.

  “Let me see.” Margaretha was beside him, reaching for his hand. She held it up to her face. “We have to wash it. Come to the stream.”

  “Let me finish setting up this spit first,” he said. He worked to get two forked sticks pushed in the ground, then laid the stick with the skewered game in the forks over the fire.

  He stood and Margaretha and Toby came hurrying up to him with a dripping cloth. She took his hand and gently patted it with the cold, wet cloth. The soot began to wash off.

  “Where does it hurt?”

  He pointed to the spot on his finger. “It’s nothing. Just a little burn.”

  She continued to dab at it with the cloth. “If you keep it cold, it might not blister.”

  Her touch was sending tingling sensations up his arm.

  “Come over to the stream and hold your hand in the water.” She pulled him forward, not asking but telling him. Toby ran ahead of them and started splashing with both hands. Margaretha scolded him, or it sounded like scolding, and he splashed less boisterously.

  She pulled Colin’s arm, forcing him to squat by the edge of the stream, and dunked his hand in the water. “Doesn’t that feel better?” She gazed up at him.

  One of the flowers in her hair had come untied and was dangling precariously against her cheek. With his hand still in the water, he reached out his other hand and caught the pink flower. He twisted the tiny stem between his fingers, then he brushed the soft petals against her cheek.

  She stared back at him with those warm brown eyes. Her lips were slightly parted. How he longed for her to lean forward and kiss him and tell him that she was beginning to love him, and that she might someday love him enough to go back to England with him.

  His heart contracted painfully as he gave her the flower. “It was falling out.” He pulled his hand out of the water and let the water drip off. “I think it’s fine now. Thank you.”

  Toby squealed in delight, drawing her attention away.

  Colin turned the meat on the spit. While it cooked, he set more snares, hoping to take some fresh game with them when they started their day’s journey.

  They ate, preparing to leave. During the past day, Margaretha had been even more cheerful than usual, playing and laughing with Toby. But ever since Colin had told her she was beautiful and touched her cheek with the flower, she had been subdued, less talkative. Perhaps she was realizing that he was falling in love with her, since it must be obvious. Did that make her sad? But it couldn’t be helped. He couldn’t stop, now that he had started. Perhaps it would develop into a brotherly kind of love.

  He gathered the bounty from his snares, wrapped them in the hemp sack, and they started walking again.

  The road was muddy and slippery after the rain of the previous day. Toby slipped and slid in the ruts. Colin said, “Maybe we can trade our game for some shoes for Toby at the next village.”

  “That is a good idea,” Margaretha said. “But won’t it be dangerous to do that? If the wrong person finds out you’ve been taking these hares, you could get thrown into the stocks, or much worse.”

  “True. But I’ll be careful.”

  She turned and spoke to Toby, then said, “He doesn’t want any shoes. He says he won’t wear them even if you buy some for him.”

  Colin and Margaretha grinned at each other.

  “My little brothers would never wear shoes.” Margaretha shook her head.

  “My little brothers either.”

  Toby had run ahead of them and was squatting and playing in the mud with his fingers. As they drew near, Toby wiped his fingers on his clothes.

  They kept walking and Margaretha grew more cheerful again. She smiled and laughed and talked. The only problem was that she mostly talked to Toby, in German, and Colin couldn’t understand her. He would have to learn this language.

  But after he and Margaretha were able to get help from the Duke of Marienberg, and after he captured Claybrook, he would be on his way back to England, possibly in less than two weeks. After that, he would have no reason to learn German.

  No reason to see Margaretha again.

  The thought was physically painful, like a boulder sitting on his chest. But what could he do to change it?

  It was another long day of walking. At least they had food, and when they stopped to settle in for the night, he would try to snare more.

  They stopped for water late in the day, and Toby fell asleep on the grass.

  “Poor thing.” Margaretha gazed sweetly at the little boy as she brushed his blond hair off his forehead. “He’s not used to walking so much.”

  “The travelers we met earlier said it is only one more long day of walking before we reach Marienberg.”

  Abruptly, she looked up at Colin. “What are you thinking?”

  The question took him off guard. He could tell her he was thinking how pleased he was that they had brought Toby with them, because he had been thinking that earlier. But the truth was that he had been trying to think how to either convince her to go with him to England, or to convince himself to stay with her here in the Holy Roman Empire. But he had nothing here. He couldn’t even speak the language.

  She was still staring at him, and again said, “I want to know what you are thinking.”

  “I am thinking . . . that we had better start walking if we want to reach Marienberg by nightfall tomorrow.”

  “Is that truly what you were thinking?” She raised her eyebrows dubiously.

&nbs
p; “It’s what I’m thinking now.”

  She frowned at him. “How is your finger?”

  “It is well. No blister, thanks to you.”

  She smiled back at him. “We have almost made it to Marienberg. Only one more day, and I want to know more about your family. What are your parents like? Your brothers and sisters? I want to hear stories about them and what they look like.”

  “Why are you so curious about me suddenly?” He couldn’t help laughing at the sweet innocence in her face, the way she looked almost guilty at his question.

  “I am not suddenly curious. I have been curious about you since the day I met you.” She looked pleased that she had been able to turn his question around. “From the first day I saw your bright blue eyes, I wondered what sort of things were tumbling about in your head.”

  “What sort of madness, you mean?”

  “Now don’t bring that up again. I have said I was sorry for thinking you were mad when you weren’t.”

  “I am not angry.”

  “Good. Because I found you interesting, nevertheless.”

  “Interesting?”

  “Yes, of course. And when you went on and on about Lord Claybrook, saying he was a murderer, how your eyes did sparkle and grow dark! It was quite exciting. I have only seen them like that a few times since.”

  “Even I am intrigued by me.”

  “It’s true. And then when I saw you in the stable, after you were well again, I thought you quite handsome. I even thought about fixing you up with one of the maids, because, I will admit, I am a great matchmaker.”

  “Fixing me up with one of the maids?” The idea might have made him sad if it were not so ludicrous.

  “Oh yes, but don’t worry. I would certainly not do that now, not now that I know you are an English earl’s son.”

  “You think me not good enough for one of your maids?”

  “You are jesting.” She plucked some weeds and threw them at him.

  He chuckled. Finally, staring into her eyes, he asked her seriously, “Who would you match me with now?” He held his breath as he waited for her answer.