The Beautiful Pretender

by Melanie Dickerson

  Lady Dorothea was seated similarly. She said nothing, so he asked her, “And you, Lady Dorothea?”

  “Oh, I prefer spring.”

  “And why is that?”

  Now she got that familiar look on her face, her hands curling in her lap as she drew her legs tighter toward herself, and she wouldn’t look him in the eye. “As Lady Magdalen said, the leaves in autumn are beautiful, but spring holds the promise of new life and warmer weather.”

  He asked Lady Magdalen about her family, her mother and siblings. She spoke of her mother, her deceased father, and her younger siblings. As Magdalen spoke, Lady Dorothea’s shoulders relaxed slightly, her hands uncurled, and she leaned on one hand while eating a bread roll.

  He asked Lady Magdalen more questions. As long as she talked, Lady Dorothea nodded and looked at ease.

  He finally turned his attention to Lady Dorothea. “Tell me about your family, Lady Dorothea.”

  “Oh, there isn’t much to tell.” She kept her gaze down and brushed off her skirt. “My father . . . he is consumed with . . . his responsibilities, and my mother died a few years ago.” She shook her head, a slight movement, and her shoulders were high and tense again. She clasped her hands in her lap and finally said, “I’m sure Lady Magdalen and I would love to hear about your family, Lord Thornbeck.”

  Not that she would love to hear about his family, but that Lady Magdalen and she would.

  He continued to focus most of the conversation on Lady Magdalen, since that seemed to help Lady Dorothea be less guarded when she did speak. They talked about the wolves that had recently claimed Thornbeck Forest as their territory, about their favorite books and writings, and they even managed to get Lady Dorothea to talk about the stories she had written.

  By the time they were ready to pack up their things and go back to the castle, Lady Dorothea was talking as much as Lady Magdalen, and even laughed at something she said.

  Once back at the castle, he parted from them and motioned for Odette to join him in the library, where Jorgen was working.

  Jorgen looked up. “How was your picnic?”

  Reinhart looked at Odette. “Did you notice anything strange about Lady Dorothea’s behavior?”

  “Do you mean how she seemed so nervous when you talked to her? And when you talked to Lady Magdalen she relaxed?”

  “Yes.”

  “It was as if she wanted you to pay attention to Lady Magdalen and not to her, but I can’t think why, unless she is very meek and timid, but she was not timid when she answered your questions that first day.”

  Reinhart tried to reconcile how her behavior had gradually changed. “Perhaps she simply does not like me.”

  “Then why would she want her friend to like you? Or you to like her friend? Did you not notice how she always tried to paint her friend in a positive light and herself as uninteresting? No, it isn’t that.” Odette sighed.

  Jorgen said, “Perhaps she loves her friend so much, she wants her to marry you.”

  “But she’s only known this young woman since she arrived here. No, it cannot be that, exactly.”

  Reinhart forced the scowl from his face. He hadn’t known the girl long enough to care so much whether she liked him or disliked him, surely. He had believed her when she told him the rumor of her being in love with her father’s knight was false, but it was possible she was lying.

  “Either way,” Odette said, “they both seem quite good-hearted. I should be very surprised if you do not choose one or the other of them.”

  Reinhart still had time to make up his mind. Besides, he didn’t expect to fall in love with anyone, simply to make the best choice from the list of ladies the king had given him.

  “How is Endlein?” Reinhart asked. “Is she calmer than she was at the ball?”

  “She was calm when she made it back to her chamber and back to more familiar surroundings,” Odette said. “I think all the strange people upset her. She seems better now.”

  Jorgen began telling him what he and Odette had observed and recorded the night of the ball. The people who stood out—the ones who always stood out—were Dorothea, Magdalen, and Fronicka.

  His frustration rose as he thought of marrying someone he was not sure about, someone whose character turned out to be disappointing. But if all went as planned, that would not happen.

  13

  AVELINA AND MAGDALEN made their way down to the Great Hall that evening, since all the margrave’s guests were invited to play games: chess, backgammon, and Nine Men’s Morris.

  Upon their arrival, the only people in the Great Hall were Fronicka and the two other ladies who were by her side everywhere she went—Otilia and Beatrix.

  Fronicka lifted her head and smiled, showing a row of white teeth.

  Magdalen gripped Avelina’s arm a little tighter.

  “Lady Dorothea and Lady Magdalen.” Fronicka’s smile grew even wider. “Come here.”

  Avelina hesitated, but she and Magdalen slowly made their way over to them.

  Fronicka widened her eyes. “Tell us, how was your picnic with Lord Thornbeck? Were you frightened?”

  “Why would we be frightened?” Magdalen asked.

  The hair rose on the back of Avelina’s neck.

  Fronicka leaned toward them, as if to impart a secret. “Some people say,” she whispered, “that Lord Thornbeck killed his brother in that mysterious fire in the west wing so he could be margrave. And that woman who wandered into the ballroom last night, calling for Annlin? She is the mother of his brother’s lover. She went mad when the fire killed her daughter along with the previous margrave.”

  Avelina could not resist asking, “Then why would Lord Thornbeck keep her here if he killed her daughter?”

  Fronicka raised her brows with a superior air. “For his guilty conscience’s sake, or perhaps to make himself look innocent. I know not. I only know what the servants tell my servant. She always finds out truths about people that no one else knows.”

  “Like what you told Lord Thornbeck about me?” Avelina raised her own brows as she looked Fronicka in the eye.

  “Are you accusing me?” Fronicka placed a hand over her chest.

  “You should not gossip about people. Whatever you heard, it’s not true about me.”

  Fronicka erased the shocked innocence from her expression and narrowed her eyes. “Is that so? Why do you hide the truth, Lady Dorothea? Do you hope Lord Thornbeck will marry you and will think the child is his?” Otilia and Beatrix looked shocked, then laughed, half covering their grins with their hands.

  Magdalen tugged on her arm to pull her away.

  “One thing is sure,” Avelina shot back. “He is too wise to marry you.”

  Magdalen tugged harder and Avelina took a couple of steps back.

  Fronicka turned her twisted glare into a haughty look. “I was only trying to warn you, to tell you what I had learned. Your own servant was too drunk last night to learn anything of any use to you.”

  “And why would gossip be of use to us?” Magdalen said.

  Avelina stared at her friend, surprised at her speaking up.

  “We do not care for gossip, as you seem to.” Magdalen slipped her arm through Avelina’s and turned away from Fronicka and her friends—just as several more people entered the Great Hall, including Lord Thornbeck.

  A huge smile on her face, Fronicka hurried toward him. “Lord Thornbeck, do play the first game of chess with me!”

  A backgammon board was set up on a nearby table, and as Avelina and Magdalen sat down to play, Magdalen leaned over and whispered, “They behave just like children.”

  Avelina rolled her eyes and nodded, then they both laughed.

  Lord Thornbeck turned to look at them. What if what Fronicka had said was true, about Lord Thornbeck murdering his brother to become margrave? Lord Plimmwald had mentioned the very same thing. Would Magdalen be safe married to him? Avelina shivered and started setting up the game.

  “Ladies,” Lord Thornbeck said, suddenly
standing beside them. “The servants found this necklace wrapped up in one of the blankets from the picnic.” He held out a gold chain and locket.

  “Oh,” Magdalen said. “I forgot I was wearing it this morning. I should have been very sad to lose it. Thank you, my lord.”

  He gave her the necklace. “I hope I will be able to play chess with both of you, but to be honest, it seems unlikely to happen tonight.” He glanced over his shoulder.

  All the other ladies were looking his way, waiting for him to come back to the chessboard.

  Avelina merely smiled, trying not to say anything, to let Magdalen do the talking.

  “We can play chess with you another time,” Magdalen said. “Thank you for returning my necklace.”

  He gave a slight nod and walked away to rejoin the others.

  “Thank goodness.” Magdalen held the locket close to her chest. “If I had lost this I would have been sad indeed. It belonged to my grandmother.”

  “It must have been a very honest servant who found it,” Avelina said. “But I shall have to warn Irma to stay away from Fronicka’s servants.”

  “Yes, you had better. Do you think a servant really said you were pregnant and in love with one of your father’s knights?”

  Avelina thought for a moment. Irma would not tell about Lady Dorothea, especially since they were both in so much danger if the whole truth came out. “I don’t know, but I do need to warn Irma not to get drunk again, and to be careful not to say anything that could be used against us. Magdalen?”

  “Yes?”

  Avelina whispered, “Do you think the margrave killed his brother?”

  Magdalen whispered back, “Of course people will say that he killed him, but how can he prove it was an accident?”

  “I don’t suppose he can.”

  “And the king obviously trusts him.”

  “Perhaps it is simply easier to believe him than to replace him. And yet, I don’t believe he did it either. Though it is possible.”

  The two exchanged glances. “It is impossible to know for sure, I suppose”—Lady Magdalen’s eyes were wide—“but I am inclined to believe him innocent.” Magdalen looked down at their game. “You may go first.”

  They played backgammon, but Avelina’s mind wasn’t on her moves and she lost to her friend. They then switched places with two other ladies who were playing Nine Men’s Morris.

  Avelina grew tired of playing the games and listening to the other ladies try to flirt with the margrave. Magdalen did not seem to be enjoying herself either.

  “Shall we leave and go to our rooms for the night?” Avelina asked.

  “I do not think anyone will mind.”

  They both stood, caught Lord Thornbeck’s eye as he was sitting across the chessboard from one of the ladies, and curtsied to him. He nodded and they hurried out of the room.

  They headed up the stairs and down the corridor to Avelina’s room. As soon as they opened the door, they smelled something foul and put their hands over their noses.

  “What is that?” Avelina went over to the bed and pulled back the coverlet. There, smeared all over the sheet, was some kind of filth that smelled of horse manure. Very fresh horse manure.

  “Ugh,” Magdalen said, while Avelina gagged and had to turn away.

  Avelina ran to the adjacent compartment where Irma slept and yanked open the door. Irma was no longer lying there, as she had been most of the day.

  With her arm over her nose, Avelina hurried out of the room, Magdalen leading the way.

  Out in the corridor, Magdalen whispered, “Will you tell Lord Thornbeck?”

  Avelina gulped in the cleaner air of the corridor. “What would I tell him? ‘My bed is full of horse manure’? No, I will simply have to find clean bedding and throw out these. I can remake the bed and it will be well enough.”

  “Shouldn’t you get a servant to do that?”

  Avelina opened her mouth, realizing her blunder. “Of course, I will not change the bedding. I will get a servant—Irma, she can do it.”

  “I shall send Hegatha to find Irma, or to have some of the other servants clean up the mess.” Magdalen went to her own bedchamber and soon came back with Hegatha, who walked past them down the corridor without even glancing at Avelina.

  “We will have it cleaned up in no time.”

  Avelina shuddered. She did not want to admit it, but her insides were all churned up to think someone would do something like this. Fronicka had brought several servants with her, and she must have had them do the vicious deed.

  Avelina wanted to hurt her, to do the same thing back to her, and to add a few stinging nettles. But of course, as the priest in Plimmwald had said, God demands forgiveness, and vengeance does not belong to man. For now, she had to concentrate on keeping one step ahead of Fronicka.

  Magdalen shook her head. “Who knows what she might do next. I think we should tell Lord Thornbeck.”

  “Perhaps.” Avelina tapped her chin with her finger. “But I don’t want to run to him with such a petty . . .” She sighed. “I simply have to get through these next ten days. Surely we can do that.”

  “Very well. Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight? I sometimes let my sisters sleep with me.”

  She did not relish sleeping in the bed where Fronicka had left her such a disgusting offering, but she also did not wish to have Magdalen’s old nursemaid giving her sour looks. No, Avelina was a grown woman. “Thank you, but I think I shall be well.”

  Hegatha came back just then, an even sterner look on her face than usual, with Irma in tow, carrying clean bedclothes and grumbling under her breath. She brushed past them and entered Avelina’s bedchamber—and exclaimed in a high-pitched voice.

  “Come to my room.” Magdalen took her by the arm, leading her.

  Avelina spent the next hour with Magdalen, until they heard the other ladies coming up the stairs. She hurried back to her room. She checked the bed, throwing back the sheets. Then she knelt and checked under it. Nothing was there. Surprisingly, there was no lingering stench, only a strong herbal smell of lavender and pennyroyal.

  She took off her outer clothes, crawled into bed, and lay staring at the canopy above her with all the curtains pulled back to let in as much light as possible. Was it her imagination that something was touching her leg?

  She threw the covers off and sat up. All she saw was one of her own long brown hairs by her leg. She laughed out loud at herself.

  She lay down again and tried to close her eyes, but she kept seeing the mess that had been in her bed. Finally, she got up and went to Irma’s little room and opened the door.

  “Irma?”

  “Yes,” answered the lump on the bed.

  “Do you mind if I leave your door open?”

  “Afraid of that nasty Lady Fronicka, are you? I warned you she was a malicious one. What did you do to make her hate you?”

  “Nothing!”

  “From what I hear from the other servants, the margrave fancies you. You had best make sure—”

  “That is not true. He favors Lady Magdalen.”

  “That’s not what I hear.”

  Avelina rubbed her face. “What do you hear?”

  She sat up in her small bed. “I hear that Lady Dorothea is in love with her father’s knight and is with child.”

  “For all the angels in heaven’s sake, Irma, keep your voice quiet.”

  Irma went on in a loud whisper, “And that Lord Thornbeck took you and Lady Magdalen on a picnic, just the three of you.”

  “That is a lie. Odette Hartman went with us, as did several servants. They were with us the whole time.”

  “Ach, well, some of the ladies were very jealous.”

  “Who have you been talking to? Who told you all that?”

  “Gerhaws. She knows all the gossip. And there is talk of you and Lady Magdalen being his favorites.”

  “I fully intend that he shall choose Magdalen to marry, as well he should. She is by far the most suitable lady for hi
m.” But even as she said the words, a voice rose up inside to accuse her. You think he would be happier with you. You wish he could marry you. But Avelina shoved the voice away.

  “Just be careful he doesn’t end up choosing you, Lady Avelina.”

  “You know you should not call me that.” And wasn’t she doing all she could to make sure Lord Thornbeck did not choose her? She discouraged his conversing with her, and he had started showing a preference for Magdalen, she was sure of it. What did Irma and those servants know? They weren’t there with them at the picnic or when Lord Thornbeck brought Magdalen her necklace.

  No, the margrave was going to marry Magdalen.

  “Irma, I want you to be extra careful around those other servants. Do not say anything about me, anything at all. You know what danger we are in if anyone discovers . . . And please don’t get drunk anymore. You might let our secret slip—”

  Irma’s lip curled and her eyes narrowed. “Look who thinks she’s an earl’s daughter. Just because you wear fancy clothes, you cannot tell me what to do,” Irma hissed. “So don’t forget that we are equals, you hear me? Equals. And I will do as I please when I am eating and drinking with the other servants, which is what you’ll be again, soon enough.” Irma flopped down on the bed and turned over to face the wall.

  Avelina stood there, motionless for several minutes, except for her chest rapidly rising and falling.

  I am only a servant, nothing more. Not a lady. Not the daughter of an earl. Only a servant. But she could make the margrave fall in love with her if she wished. She could. She felt it in the way he looked at her and spoke to her. And what was just as bad was, she could fall in love with him too.

  14

  “CHOOSING A WIFE this way is humiliating.”

  What was supposed to be a calm evening of playing games turned into six ladies all vying for his attention and nearly coming to blows. Four of the ladies had gone off and played games between themselves, including Lady Dorothea and Lady Magdalen, but the six who were left crowded around him, asking to be the next to play with him and commenting on every move he and his opponent made. Lady Fronicka was the most vocal.