Until he heard Magdalen screaming his name.
He ran back into the room. The guard whom Steffan had originally defeated stood holding Magdalen, a knife to her throat.
The air rushed out of Steffan’s lungs. Don’t take her away, God, please. Magdalen’s face was ashen, her eyes fixed on his.
“Throw down the knife and let her go.” Steffan still gripped his sword.
“You will kill me if I do.” The guard’s voice shook.
“I won’t. Just let her go.” God, please. I can’t lose her. Please don’t let her die. Icy fingers gripped his insides.
Alexander stepped up beside Steffan, breathing hard and using his sleeve to wipe sweat from his face.
“You can’t get away,” Alexander said to the guard. “Lord Thornbeck is here. Lord Hazen will be apprehended and punished. But if you let her go, we’ll make sure your life is spared.”
Steffan took a tentative step toward them. The guard pulled Magdalen closer to him. The hand shook that held the knife to Magdalen’s throat. The blade touched her skin. He could end her life in a moment.
“Swear to me you won’t let them kill me,” the guard said.
“I hereby vow, as the rightful Duke of Wolfberg, that you will not be killed if you do not harm this girl,” Steffan said.
There was scuffling and footsteps behind them in the doorway.
Steffan said quite loudly, never taking his eyes off the guard and Lady Magdalen, “I demand that this guard’s life be spared.”
The guard took the knife away from her throat and let his arms go limp by his side.
Magdalen hurried away from her captor, and Steffan opened his arms and pulled her close.
So many thoughts and emotions went through him as he held her tight, glorying in the way she clung to him and buried her face in his neck.
Magdalen lifted her head, and they both turned around to face several of Lord Thornbeck’s guards.
Lord Thornbeck stepped toward them, his brown eyes focusing on Steffan. “You are the Duke of Wolfberg, are you not?”
“I am, my lord. Thank you for coming to our aid. Did you receive Lady Magdalen’s letter?”
“I did not receive a letter. I am here because the Baroness of Mallin sent for me and asked for my help in rescuing her daughter. It seems her loyal servant, a mute boy named Lenhart, wrote down a very interesting tale explaining what had been happening here in Wolfberg. His description was so detailed, she decided it must be true and sent a messenger with this young man’s explanation.”
That was when Lenhart stepped out from the crowd, looking shyly at Magdalen. She in turn smiled and waved at him, excitement animating her as she still held to Steffan’s arm.
“Thank you, my lord. We owe you a great debt of gratitude.”
“It is my pleasure to lend my assistance to friends who are being wronged. I was in a similar predicament myself two years ago, as you might remember.”
Steffan had nearly forgotten about that, some sort of treachery from the Duke of Geitbart that was resolved in Lord Thornbeck’s favor.
“We have apprehended Lord Hazen, and my men have placed him in the dungeon. Can you point out his son and his son’s wife, Lady Magdalen’s imposter?”
“My lord, as it turns out, my cousin Alexander has been assisting us. In fact, he saved our lives a few minutes ago. If you could spare him, I would be very obliged.”
“Of course.”
Alexander’s gaze met his. Steffan nodded to him, and he nodded back.
They were free. All of them.
Magdalen watched as Lord Thornbeck’s guards began to carry the dead and wounded guards from the room. Lord Thornbeck was barking orders, and Lenhart and Alexander also turned to leave. Probably Magdalen’s mother and Lady Avelina had not been allowed up the stairs where the fighting was happening, as they were nowhere to be seen.
She was suddenly aware of Steffan standing beside her, looking down at her, as the last of the guards left. They were alone.
What could she say? What would he say to her? After all the closeness they had shared, the embraces, the near-death moments, and fighting for their lives . . . now she would be expected to leave Wolfberg with her mother. Steffan would forget about her and marry someone else, and he’d probably think she didn’t care.
Just a few moments before, she had been overwhelmed with joy and relief that they were both safe. Now tears stung her eyes and her insides quaked with fear that he would let her go . . . that he would never love her.
“My mother will be downstairs. I must go and see her.” Magdalen could not look at him as she said the words and started toward the door.
“Magdalen,” he called after her.
She quickened her step and did not answer him, her insides churning.
“Magdalen, wait.” He caught hold of her arm, but she couldn’t face him. The tears were swimming now, threatening to fall, and the lump in her throat kept her from speaking.
He tugged gently on her arm, trying to get her to turn around, then he came around in front of her.
“What is wrong? Are you angry with me?” He leaned down, trying to see her face. Then he touched her cheek, and she had to turn away as the first tear fell.
She shook her head, trying to swallow. She still couldn’t speak. Did he think she was being ridiculous? She must seem quite strange. If only she didn’t care for him so much, didn’t feel so much like her heart was breaking. She should be happy that he was getting his place back in Wolfberg, but instead, she could only think how he would forget about her.
“Please tell me what’s wrong.”
She finally managed to swallow. “Nothing is wrong.” But even as she said the words, another tear fell. She tried to turn so he wouldn’t see, but he kept moving in front of her.
“Magdalen, I—”
“You should not worry about me. You have a lot of people downstairs. You should go to them.” A sob was on the verge of erupting, on the verge of humiliating her even more. She clamped her lips shut.
“I’m not going anywhere. You are the person I want to talk to now.”
He had seen her tears, so she wiped them quickly with the back of her hand.
“Tell me why you’re crying.”
“It is nothing. Please don’t ask me.” Why was he tormenting her? Why couldn’t he just leave her in peace? “They will be waiting for you. You should go.” The statement of fact seemed to calm her and dry her tears.
“I’m not leaving until you tell me why you’re crying. Is it because that guard held a knife to your throat? Did he hurt you?” His voice conveyed sudden fear.
“No, I am not hurt.”
“I think I saw you limping.”
“It is nothing, just a little twinge in my ankle.”
The tenderness and concern in his voice were making her feel as if she were two halves being pulled apart. Did he want to see her lose her self-control? She started toward the door again.
“You cannot leave until you talk to me.” He hurried to block the doorway with his body.
She turned her back on him as the tears flowed down again. “This is your castle, and you can order me . . . to do . . .”
“Magdalen, I don’t know why you won’t tell me what I did to make you upset, but you are the sweetest, most beguiling woman I know, the kindest and the most noble and courageous.”
His hand touched her shoulder. The sob broke free from her throat.
“I know I am selfish and cowardly sometimes, and my fear of marrying for love must have made you dislike me, and rightly so. But I refuse to live in fear any longer. If you will marry me, Lady Magdalen, I vow to cherish you as long as I live.”
Another sob escaped. She turned her body toward him. Steffan put his arms around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest. She did her best to wipe her face and whispered, “You want to marry me?”
“Yes.” He caressed her shoulder.
“You said a person should have a better reason to marry than love.
Are you only marrying me for my mines?” Would he be angry? Or would he admit his motives were materialistic?
He pulled away enough to look into her eyes. “It is a fair and just question.” He sighed and didn’t speak for a moment. “I watched my father grieve over my mother. He was so heartbroken, he forgot he had two children and a region full of people who needed him. I was afraid of ever loving anyone that much, of ending up like my father. But I just could not help loving you, Magdalen. And that is why I wish to marry you—because I love you.”
Her heart swelled more with every word he spoke, with each emotion that shone in his eyes. Surely she could trust this man to love her.
“Magdalen? Will you marry me? Will you let me love you?” There was so much hope in his expression.
“Yes, I will marry you.”
He smiled jubilantly.
She couldn’t wait any longer. She put her hand on his shoulder to keep her balance, rose onto her tiptoes, and pressed her lips against his.
Steffan’s heart soared at her boldness and at the thought that she was willing to be his wife. He caressed her cheek as he kissed her. The sweetness of her touch, of her lips, her skin, her nearness . . . his gentle, sweet Magdalen.
She pulled away slightly. He kissed her cheek as she stroked his beard. Then he gazed into her half-closed eyes.
“Now will you tell me why you were crying?”
“I thought you didn’t want me. That I would go home and you would forget me.”
He brushed his thumb over her chin. “I could never forget you. But are you sure you want to marry me? I thought you were excited about not having to marry at all.”
“Of course I was excited.” She smiled as she slipped her arms around his neck.
“You’ve said you would marry me and I’m not letting you out of the agreement.”
Her smile widened. “I don’t want out of it.”
She leaned forward and they kissed again, his heart pounding.
She ended the kiss and said, “Of course I was excited about being able to help my people without marrying a stranger or an old man. And you had already told me you never intended to marry me.”
“I’m sorry. I was daft.” He wished she would forget about that and kiss him again.
“You should not be sorry. It was your uncle’s fault. You were only telling me the truth.”
“Yes, but I should have wanted to marry you after meeting you two years ago in Thornbeck. You were obviously sweet and very lovely, though you are even more beautiful now than you were then.”
She rewarded him with another kiss. How good it felt to kiss the girl he loved. Perhaps he could believe Alexander was a changed man after falling in love. He certainly felt different after being with Magdalen the last few weeks. Maybe they’d all learned some important lessons.
Magdalen had never felt anything like kissing Steffan. And she hadn’t even told him . . .
“I love you,” she whispered against his cheek.
He inhaled sharply, kissed the corner of her mouth, then her lips.
A few moments later, he said, “How can you love a selfish man like me?”
“We are all selfish. Everyone wants what they want. But you . . . you defend the helpless and weak and put yourself through pain and hardship to help others.” She rubbed his beard with her fingertips and sighed.
He touched his forehead to her temple. “You say the sweetest things.”
Sweet was the word for how it felt to stand here with Steffan. But it seemed all a dream.
“Magdalen, there you are.”
She looked up to find her mother staring at them from the doorway.
“Do you not think it is time to go downstairs?” She sent a sharp, confounded look at Magdalen and then Steffan.
They separated, and Steffan bowed to her mother. “Lady Mallin.”
Mother nodded coldly and turned to Magdalen. “Let us go. Now.”
Magdalen cleared her throat. “We shall be down in a moment, Mother.” Her face burned at the reprimand that was surely coming for not immediately obeying her mother.
Without a word, Mother turned and started down the steps.
Steffan squeezed her hand and whispered, “I wish we didn’t have to go down.”
“You do?”
“I wish we could stay here and talk.” He leaned down and kissed her lips.
“We shall talk later.” She smiled and they went down together.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Magdalen sat upright in a feather bed with all the curtains drawn back while the fair Lady Thornbeck sat beside her on a cushioned chair and nursed her baby.
“And the duke saved you and killed your attacker?” Avelina’s mouth was as wide open as her blue eyes.
“Yes, thankfully.”
“How terrifying it must have been for you, to be attacked at night in the forest.” Avelina’s brown hair was just as lovely as Magdalen remembered it. Her baby’s eyes were closed in a blissful-looking slumber. “She’s finished. Let me fix my gown.”
“May I hold her?”
Avelina stood and laid her baby in Magdalen’s arms.
“She’s so sweet.” Magdalen held her up and kissed her forehead, careful not to wake her.
Someday, God willing, she and Steffan would have a baby. The thought was strange, yet appealing. She had wondered a few days ago if she would ever marry or have children, and now the thought of having them with Steffan gave her a warm, tender feeling.
But she should not be dreaming about her future children while Avelina was with her.
“Did Lord Thornbeck not mind you and the baby traveling so far?”
“It is only a two-day journey. He had everything planned, every inn where we would stay the night, and we even brought our own physician in case the baby became sick.”
They both laughed softly and shook their heads. How sweet that Avelina’s husband loved her and took such care of her and their baby.
Someone opened the door of her bedchamber and Magdalen’s mother walked in.
“So there you are.” Mother’s brow was wrinkled, her usual signal of disapproval. “All laid up in bed.”
“Yes, Mother. I’m resting.”
“I don’t know how you manage to get into such difficulties as you do.”
She wanted to say, “Well, it was certainly not my fault.” But instead she said, “So it seems.”
“Hm.” Mother wrinkled her brow even more, crossed her arms in front of her, and then noticed the baby in Magdalen’s arms. “And here is that sweet baby. I believe she resembles Lord Thornbeck, his eyes and forehead.” Mother leaned down and examined Avelina’s daughter.
“Yes, she does look a lot like her father,” Avelina said.
Mother glanced back at Avelina. “Isn’t motherhood such a joy? Having a baby brings a new and wonderful purpose to a woman’s life, doesn’t it?”
To prevent herself from rolling her gaze to the ceiling and letting her thoughts show on her face, Magdalen looked down at the baby.
Avelina said, “Our baby has been the greatest joy to Lord Thornbeck and me.”
“Oh, men never concern themselves with their girl children, especially when they’re so young.”
Magdalen stared hard at her mother now. Should she ask her how she could forget that it was her father, and only her father, who showed any love for Magdalen and her young siblings?
“Since you are taking your ease”—Mother suddenly looked at Magdalen and quirked one corner of her mouth down in a half frown—“I shall go downstairs, as the duke has informed us that the feast will begin shortly. You must be there.”
“Of course.”
Mother left and Magdalen heaved a sigh. She had thought, when she saw her mother riding into the castle bailey, that perhaps her mother loved her after all. But Mother was her usual disapproving self. Still, she had come, and Magdalen pushed away all sad thoughts and smiled at Avelina.
“I am so glad you are here.” She had longed to see he
r friend. How good it was to see her and Lord Thornbeck so joyful together, as they always should have been.
“Oh, Magdalen, I am delighted that you and the duke are in love and getting married.”
“Thank you, Avelina.”
Her friend stood and hugged Magdalen. “And that you are both safe after such a terrible ordeal. It must have been terrifying.”
“It did seem dangerous and frightening at the time, but now that I look back on it . . . it seems rather like one of the best times of my life.”
Their gazes met and they burst out laughing.
They talked some more, catching up on what had happened to them in the last two years. Then someone knocked at the door.
“Come in.”
Lord Thornbeck and Steffan entered the room. Her gaze was immediately arrested by Steffan, who had shaved his beard. How handsome and youthful and healthy he looked! He wore a blue velvet waistcoat with bright-white sleeves. His hair was clean and still damp as it swooped perfectly across his forehead.
Her heart skipped a beat.
“We came to escort our ladies to the Great Hall,” Lord Thornbeck said, “if you are both feeling well enough.”
Magdalen was fully dressed after her own bath, so she swung her legs off the bed, still holding the baby, and walked toward Steffan.
“Isn’t she beautiful?”
“She is.” But Steffan was looking at Magdalen.
Lord and Lady Thornbeck spoke quietly to each other as a servant gathered the baby’s things.
“Are you well?” Magdalen said in a low voice, leaning close to him.
“I am very well.”
“Your head? Does it still hurt?”
“Only a bit. Lord Thornbeck’s own physician said I was well enough to be up and walking around.”
“I am glad. And I must say, even though I liked your beard, you look just as handsome clean shaven.”
He glanced over her shoulder at Lord and Lady Thornbeck. He must have found them looking away, because he bent and kissed her on the lips.
“Not in front of the baby,” Magdalen whispered, her cheeks growing warm.
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