Page 72 of The Beautiful Pretender

“Oh no.” Hegatha set down the tray and shook her finger at Avelina. “Frau Schwitzer said you must keep your foot up. You shall eat in bed.”

There was good and bad to everything, even having a grouchy older woman in her room taking charge.

It seemed strange to be sitting in bed eating like a queen when Lord Thornbeck was in so much danger. But for now, Geitbart could not know that the margrave knew of his treachery. He was surely still trying to muster support from others and amassing troops for his attack.

Magdalen and Avelina talked while they ate, and Avelina told her about her own brother and sister. Then the talk turned to Lord Thornbeck.

Magdalen asked, “Do you think he is handsome? Or do you still think he is too severe looking, as you did at first?”

“I think very differently about him now than I did then. I tried not to think about him at all . . . but I thought of him constantly.” Her heart seemed to expand like a watered plant as she was finally able to tell the truth about her feelings. “I believed there was so much goodness in him. And I was terrified he would see how much I admired him. It was difficult, forcing myself to turn away from him every time he looked at me.”

“And trying to make him talk to me and not you?” Magdalen raised her brows. “Turning the conversation to me when he so obviously wanted to talk to you.”

“So obviously?”

“Of course. The poor margrave had to turn his attention away from you so you would not look frightened to death that he was talking more to you than to me.”

“I was only trying to do as I had been told.”

“I know that now.” Magdalen’s smile faded. “I am sorry.”

No one spoke. Magdalen was beginning to look sad.

“He is handsome, except he does have a rather too-large nose.”

Magdalen’s mouth fell open. “What?”

Avelina laughed. “Very well. He is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, even though his nose is rather large.” Laughing was better than crying, and she did not want Magdalen to be sad or feel sorry for her because they both knew she could never marry him.

The more she had tried not to think him handsome, the handsomer he became, as she realized his care and concern for the orphans, his easy manner with Jorgen and Odette and friendship with them, his gentle way with the poor addled woman who haunted the west wing—the way he looked at Avelina, so considerate, so intense. She supposed she should have known all alongthat his interest lay with her, not Magdalen, but something inside her just could not allow her to believe that the margrave could fall in love with a servant—even when that servant was masquerading as an earl’s daughter.

She’d never been in love before. She’d tried to save herself this pain, but all her pretending and hiding the truth from herself had not saved her at all. And even though this love was painful, it was worth it to remember how the sight of him and the sound of his voice had made her heart beat faster, that feeling of wanting what was best for someone else, even if it broke her own heart.

By midmorning Avelina could hardly bear to lie in bed another moment. “I think my ankle is much better now, and there must be something we can do to help Lord Thornbeck.”

Magdalen frowned at her. “Hegatha will not be pleased if you get up. She and Frau Schwitzer agree, you must stay off your ankle for at least two days.”

Avelina sighed, then tried another tact. “What is the worst thing that could happen? It will bleed again.” She shrugged. “A little blood loss never hurt anyone.”

Magdalen laughed. “Well, you shall have to contend with Hegatha if you get up, that is all I can say.”

And as if their speaking of her conjured her, she opened the door.

“What was the gossip in the kitchen?” Magdalen asked.

“Do the servants know what Geitbart is planning?” Avelina added. “Did you find out anything that might help Lord Thornbeck?”

Hegatha gave them both her perpetual frown, then settled it on Magdalen. “Truly, my lady, you should leave Thornbeck assoon as possible, just as soon as the guards arrive. This place is not safe.”

“Why? Did something happen?”

“The servants were whispering about someone taking over the castle. They said they heard a rumor that it was the Duke of Geitbart. They asked me if I knew something, but of course I told them nothing. Then, when I was on my way back here, I saw Lady Fronicka speaking with one of the servants. When they saw me coming, they stopped talking and waited for me to walk away.”

“Which servant?” Avelina sat up straighter. “Which servant was Lady Fronicka talking to?”

“A rather homely looking woman they call Gerhaws was talking in Lady Fronicka’s ear. I would not think such a lady would ever feel a need to speak privately to a servant, especially one with pockmarks all over her face and wild red hair and a red nose. It is well known that this Gerhaws drinks herself into a stupor in the evenings.” Hegatha lifted the covers to check Avelina’s bandage.

Gerhaws was the servant who introduced Irma to Friedrich. “Gerhaws used to drink with Irma, often getting her drunk. Lady Fronicka and her father must be using Gerhaws as a spy, just as Fronicka used Irma.” She tapped her chin with her fingertip. “What if I were to follow Gerhaws? Perhaps I could discover something, could sneak and listen to her conversations with Lady Fronicka.”