Page 33 of The Noble Servant

A sound of sheep bleating made her lift her head. Steffan was hurrying toward her.

Her sobs shuddered to a halt. She wiped her eyes and nose with the cloth, keeping her face averted from Steffan. She was too embarrassed to blow her nose, so she just kept wiping.

“Magdalen.” Steffan knelt beside her, leaning toward her. “Are you well?”

How humiliating to have this shepherd see her tears! She could almost hear her mother say, “For shame! Behaving the same as a common peasant.”

She jumped to her feet, trying to hide the cloth in the folds of her skirt. She lifted her head and shoulders to regain her dignity. “I am very well, but I’d rather you did not say my name where anyone might hear. You may call me Maggie as everyone else does.” She sniffed before she could stop herself. “My name is something I only tell people to whom ...” She gazed up into his eyes for the first time. A look of concern shone in his brown eyes.

“Why were you crying?”

“It is not important.” She broke her gaze away from his intense brown eyes and stared down at the cloth still clutched in her hand.

“If it made you cry, it must be important.”

Her heart fluttered strangely. Even though she had been rather rude to him, he still spoke with kindness to her.

“I didn’t know what had happened to you,” he said. “I took the geese with me when I didn’t see you. Believe me, I did not want to.”He raised his brows. “But I hope you were not crying because you thought you lost the geese.” He stepped aside, revealing the entire gaggle of geese waddling behind him in the middle of the flock of sheep.

“Oh, thank you.” Magdalen covered her heart with her hand at seeing the big gray birds. “I cannot believe you took care of the geese. I know how much you hate them.” Her bottom lip trembled, and she bit it to keep it still.

“Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to cause you so much distress.”

“Oh, I wasn’t ... wasn’t crying about the geese.” He had such beautiful eyes.

“Why were you crying, then?”

He seemed pleased as he leaned down from his great height.

“I was crying because I ... I wished to marry someone, and he ... I think he married someone else.”

“Did this man know you wanted to marry him?”

“Why, yes. He asked for my hand, and my mother granted him permission to marry me.”

“You were in love with this man, then?”

“Oh ... I don’t think I knew him well enough to be in love with him.”

“Then why did you want to marry him?” He seemed to be searching her face.

“I enjoyed talking to him. He seemed very kind and friendly. Except that ... I’m not even sure if I ever met him.” She waved her hand and shook her head. “I know that makes no sense.”

Steffan let loose a heavy sigh. “Won’t you please come and sit down? I have something to tell you.”

“Let me go round up these geese that are wandering off.”

They both herded their respective animals in closer, then sat on a felled tree at the edge of the meadow.

Magdalen waited for Steffan to speak. His face was a bit crestfallen as he seemed to be staring at the half ring of mushrooms on the ground in front of them. He sighed again.

“What is it?” An uneasy feeling crept through her limbs.

“I have a confession to make. I know who you are. And”—he suddenly sat up straighter and looked her in the eye—“I am a little insulted that you don’t know who I am.”

“What?” Her breath hitched. “Do you mean ... ?”

“You are Lady Magdalen, daughter of the Baroness of Mallin, and I am the Duke of Wolfberg—Steffan is my given name. I met you in Thornbeck almost two years ago. How do you not remember me?”