What are you doing there, servant girl?”
A chill went down Magdalen’s arms. “I am mending some clothing for my mistress.”
“Mending Lady Magdalen’s dresses?” He came over and picked up the dress she had just finished, then lifted one from the pile that had not yet been mended, and he seemed to be comparing the two.
“Tell me if I’m wrong, but it looks as if you are cutting these dresses and shortening them. Why would Lady Magdalen need her dresses altered? Has she grown . . . shorter?”
Magdalen’s stomach twisted. “I only do as I’m told, my lord.”
“Ja.”
She resisted the urge to look up at him as he stood near, but she imagined his small, dark eyes squinting down at her, his enormous forehead wrinkling, the tufts of steel-gray hair puffing out on either side of his head.
“You were with Lady Magdalen when she arrived at Wolfberg, were you not? I believe the lady said she was displeased with you. She had you sent out to tend the geese.”
Magdalen’s hands began to sweat as a trembling started in her legs. If only she could trust this man who had discerned the truth about who she was. But of course she couldn’t. He was evil, and at the very least, he would have Agnes put to death.
“And Lady Magdalen said your name was Agnes, but the other servants say your name is Maggie. Do you not think that is . . . strange?”
He didn’t seem to expect an answer as he moved away from her. She peeked up through her lashes. He stopped at the water pitcher and poured himself a cup of water and drank it.
She was only pretending to sew now, as her hands were shaking so badly she could not make a stitch.
“I asked Lady Magdalen all these questions, and she strenuously protested my insinuations. I was hoping you might tell me the truth.” He lifted the cup to his lips again, all the while keeping his eyes trained on her.
“I do not know what you want me to tell you, my lord.” She managed to hold her voice surprisingly steady. “I am content to sit here and sew for my mistress.”
“Hmm. But one must wonder why you are so content, when you are the real Lady Magdalen.”
Magdalen allowed herself the nervous laugh that bubbled up. “Forgive me for laughing, my lord, but that is an amusing thing for you to say.”
“And why is it so amusing to you?”
“Well, the Duke of Wolfberg should know if she is Lady Magdalen or not, because he met her and danced with her at Thornbeck Castle less than two years ago.”
She refused to look up at him, keeping her gaze on the bundle in her lap. But he stayed silent so long, she finally took a peek. He was glaring at her.
“What do you know of that party at Thornbeck Castle?”
“Very little, my lord. Lady Magdalen took her childhood dry nurse Hegatha with her. I only know what she told us servants.”
“No one makes a fool of me. I shall uncover the truth.” His voice was raspy. “I shall not be bested, by you or that empty-headed imposter who calls herself Lady Magdalen.” Lord Hazen strode from the room.
At least he didn’t seem suspicious of Steffan. But it was just a matter of time before he figured out everything. The shrewd man must have a spy among the servants.
A few minutes later, Agnes entered the room with a smile on her face. She barely glanced at Magdalen before she sank onto a chair with a low squeal.
“You seem very pleased today.” Should she tell Agnes what Lord Hazen had said? It seemed cruel to ruin her good mood.
“I hope you fall in love someday,” Agnes said on a blissful sigh. “Then perhaps you will know how wonderful it feels.”
Magdalen looked down to keep from rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Instead, she concentrated on one of the letters she had written. She imagined Lord Thornbeck reading it, his face turning red from anger, and the scowl he often wore. She imagined Steffan being raised to his rightful position of Duke of Wolfberg, and his cowardly cousin and Agnes being thrown in the dungeon.
Yes, Agnes. Perhaps someday I will feel as delighted as you do right now.
But what would happen to Magdalen? She would have her identity back, but she’d also have to go back home to Mallin with her mother, who never said a kind word. At least she and Lenhart would be safe, and she would be with her sisters and her people. She had always wanted to help them prosper, to make sure they had enough to eat and warm clothes to wear. Perhaps . . . perhaps a way to provide for them would present itself. Perhaps she would marry a kindly, rich old man who would help her people prosper. But for her to find true love? Highly unlikely.
She imagined Steffan smiling, sitting in the place of honor on the dais in the Great Hall of Wolfberg Castle, welcoming his young, noble wife, whoever she might be. Yes, Steffan would fall in love.
Her heart twisted inside her. God, am I so unworthy? Am I destined to see everyone else content, everyone except me?
Someone was coming down the corridor, shoes slapping on the flagstone floor, almost running.
Alexander appeared in the doorway. His face was scrunched in a strange expression, as if he was not sure if he was angry or anguished.
“Darling, is something wrong?” Agnes stood and took a step toward her husband.
“Yes, I should say there is something wrong.” He seemed to be barely containing his emotions as he looked at Agnes and then at Magdalen.
Agnes glanced her way. “Go in the other room, girl.”
Magdalen hastened into the adjoining room, but she left the door slightly ajar so she could listen.
Alexander stared down at his hands as if he’d never seen them before.
“What is it? Please tell me.” Agnes sounded as if she was crying. She walked toward him, closer, until she was right in front of him. “Did I do something wrong?”
He didn’t lift his head but reached out and grabbed her around the waist, then bent to bury his face in her shoulder.
“Darling.” Agnes caressed his shoulders.
They stood like that so long, Magdalen rolled her eyes and huffed.
Finally, they pulled apart and Alexander said, “Lord Hazen told me you’re not Lady Magdalen. Is it true?”
“What? I . . .”
“It is true.” He put a hand over his face. “He says I have to marry the real Lady Magdalen, as soon as he’s sure he’s found her.”
“But what about me? I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything?” Agnes’s voice rose to a high pitch as she clutched at his arms. She started to sob. “You don’t love me.”
He put his arms around her again. “I do love you, but Lord Hazen . . . You don’t know how he is. He will have his way.”
The two of them actually seemed to have fallen in love. Would he tell Agnes that he was not who she thought he was either?
She put her ear up to the opening.
Alexander said, “I vow that I will do whatever I need to do to protect you.”
Magdalen’s heart twisted painfully. Would anyone ever love her like that? She hated that Steffan’s face loomed in front of her whenever she closed her eyes, the way he looked after he took the punishment for the hungry man who stole the loaf of bread. He was selfish and irritable, but he brought her food when their breakfast had been inedible. And her knees went weak just thinking of the way his brown hair hung over his forehead and the warm expression he sometimes had when he looked at her.
But she would be foolish to fancy herself in love with him. Steffan was like most other lords and noblemen. He scorned marrying for love.
She wiped her face with her hands and her nose with her apron. She pushed the door open and walked out into the bedchamber.
“If you are going to be in here any longer, I need to take my mending with me into the other room.”
Agnes and Alexander broke apart while Magdalen stalked to where her dresses lay. She took her time gathering them. Alexander whispered something in Agnes’s ear, then departed.
Agnes burst into tears. She went to the bed, lay down, and closed the curtains.
Magdalen put the dresses aside. Why alter her own dresses when Agnes might not be in a position to order her around much longer? But the thought of Lord Hazen forcing her to marry Alexander, or to at least pretend to be his wife . . . She closed her eyes and prayed.
Magdalen did not see Steffan at the evening meal. Katrin helped her sneak some food, hiding a bread roll and a wedge of cheese in her apron pocket. When Agnes allowed her to retire to her own bed for the night, Magdalen waited in the corridor until she saw Steffan walking toward her on his way to the menservants’ bedchamber.
“I saved you some food.”
He walked past his door until he was only a step away from her. She gave him the cloth bundle.
“Thank you.” He opened it and immediately bit into the bread.
“Did you find a courier?”
He shook his head. “It’s as if Lord Hazen has sent away every man and horse besides his own guards and the horses in his own stable. I may have to steal a horse and deliver them myself.”
“Go yourself?”
“Of course. I know how to ride a horse.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” She tapped her chin, then remembered that was something Avelina used to do when she was thinking.
“Has Agnes said anything else about Lord Hazen being suspicious?”
Magdalen took a deep breath and let it out. “He came to speak with me today. He knows Agnes is not me. And he knows—or thinks he knows—that I am Magdalen. He’s threatening to get rid of Agnes and force Alexander to marry me.”
They both glanced up and down the corridor to make certain no one was nearby.
“That changes things, then.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think I should leave when you’re in so much danger.”
“I’m not in danger. That is, I don’t think I have anything to fear from your cousin. He’s in love with Agnes, as strange as that seems.”
“Yes, but my uncle . . . Who knows what he might do to you?” He leaned closer. “You could come with me.”
It was not her life but her heart she was worried about. “I think I’d better stay here.”
“But are you sure Lord Hazen won’t do you harm?”
“He wants his son married to Lady Magdalen. Agnes is in more danger than I.”
“I can protect you.” He took a tiny step closer to her.
She leaned away from him. “I believe you. I think.” She smiled to try to dispel some of the awkwardness of the moment. Why was he getting so close? They weren’t Agnes and Alexander, and Steffen did not care for her.
He seemed to catch her hint and took a step back. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I will try to find a courier and come back so I can watch over you. But I am not sure if I’ll be able to.”
She wanted to tell him he needed watching over more than she did. His lip still looked swollen and the cut over his eye was still healing.
He looked down at the floor.
“You are very kind to want to protect me. I already know what a courageous man you are.”
He lifted his head, and the corners of his mouth quirked up. “You think I am courageous?”
Yes. “Sometimes.”
“You are very good-hearted. Some women in your position would have stabbed Agnes in the heart while she slept, but you actually seem to feel compassion for her.”
Magdalen covered her mouth to stop the smile that spread over her face at the thought of stabbing Agnes in her sleep.
“And you have been most kind to me, even though I’m not sure I deserved it.” He continued to stare into her eyes. “You certainly did not owe me anything.”
“Well, your brown eyes and smile are hard to resist.” It was true, but she probably should not have told him that. A spark seemed to light up those brown eyes.
“I suppose I should prepare for my journey tomorrow, if you’re certain you are safe.”
He had a vulnerable look on his face, as if he was hoping for something . . . a word from her? A gesture? She just watched him. Such a strange man.
“I shall pray for you.”
“Thank you, Magdalen.”
The way he said her name . . . She backed away from him, said, “Farewell,” and went into her room.
The other maidservants were already in bed. Magdalen undressed quickly and quietly, pulling her loose kirtle over her head. Dressed in her plain gray underdress, she blew out the remaining lit candle and crawled into bed.
“Maggie, Maggie, wake up!”
A loud whisper next to her head forced Magdalen’s eyes open.
Katrin stood there holding a candle and candleholder, illuminating the whites around her eyes. “You’re in trouble, and so is Steffan.”
Magdalen sat up. “What do you mean?”
“Lord Hazen knows Steffan is the duke and you are Lady Magdalen, and he plans to kill Steffan today.”
“How do you know this?”
“I heard him talking. It’s true. You must believe me.”
“Steffan will be safe. He is leaving this morning to seek help.”
Katrin’s eyes widened. “You must warn him now, before it’s too late, and you should go with him unless you want to marry Alexander.”
Magdalen stood, snatched up her overdress, drew it over her head, and grabbed her bag. “How did Lord Hazen discover this? Who told him?”
“I don’t know. But please make haste.” Katrin helped her throw her few possessions into the bag.
Magdalen ran to the door and into the corridor. She pushed open the door to the male servants’ sleeping chamber. All was quiet except for the faint sounds of men breathing heavily in sleep and Katrin crying and sniffing behind her.
Magdalen stepped inside, her heart pounding. Thankfully she knew which bed was the duke’s.
“Steffan. Wake up.” She touched his shoulder.
He drew in a quick breath and jolted upright. “What?” He grabbed her arm, still half asleep, blinking at her in the dark room.
“Lord Hazen knows everything. He’s planning to kill you.”
“How do you know?” But he was already standing up, then bent and reached for something at the foot of his bed.
“Katrin told me. She overheard him.”
Most people slept without clothing, especially when it was warm, but thanks be to God, Steffan was wearing hose.
He pulled on a shirt, grabbed a bundle out from under the bed, then hurried toward the door.
Katrin stood in the corridor looking small, her shoulders hunched and her head down.
“Come with us.” Magdalen tugged on Katrin’s arm. “If he finds out you warned us, you will be in great danger.”
“Are you sure?” Katrin whispered back.
“Yes,” Steffan said. “Make haste.”
She nodded and followed them down the stairs. At the very bottom Steffan led them to the door that was never guarded but always locked. He started unlocking it with a key. As soon as he got it open, he ushered them out in front of him, then locked the door behind him. He turned to Magdalen. “Go to the stables. Find Lenhart. He will be sleeping with the horses. Get him to saddle three horses for us and a fourth for himself.”
“Where are you going?”
“To my hiding place to dig up your letters and my sword.”
“But we didn’t get my father’s mining books!”
“We can’t go back now.” He took off toward the pasture where they used to graze their geese and sheep, and she and Katrin hurried toward the stables.