Page 61 of The Noble Servant

“The letters are safer where they are. What if Lord Hazen were to search your possessions?”

“I suppose you are right.” She sighed. “And we probably should not be talking on this dark stairwell. Someone might be listening. I will try to talk to you tomorrow.”

“Very well.”

They were on the fourth level now, walking down the hallway to their rooms. Before they parted, he reached out and grasped her hand. She turned and faced him, looking up into his eyes. Her green eyes sparkled in the light of the one torch.

“Be careful. If you feel you are in danger, come to me. I will protect you.”

Her lips parted and her mouth hung open. She just stood there.

“Gute Nacht,”he whispered.

“Schlafen Sie gut,”she whispered back, then hurried to her room, leaving him at his door.

Magdalen sat on a stool making alterations to some of her own gowns. Agnes had her sewing a higher waistline on one of the dresses.

“I can’t let Lord Hazen think these dresses were made for someone else,” Agnes said.

Agnes should be making her own alterations to the dresses, but she claimed she was too afraid of getting caught doing menial work by Lord Hazen. Fortunately or unfortunately, Magdalen’s mother had ordered her to learn to sew from the other house servants just in case she needed to know it someday, as sewing was one of the only tasks a lady of means was allowed to perform.

As Magdalen ripped out the seam, she tried not to hate Agnes’s teeth, which jutted out slightly, or her smirk, which she’d enjoy wiping from her face, or her laugh, which sounded like a dying animal. It was difficult not to hate her for stealing Magdalen’s identity. And yet, she could be thankful that Agneshadtaken her place, since Lord Hazen no doubt would have forced her to marry his son—or murdered her when she protested that he was not the real Duke of Wolfberg.

“God,” she whispered, “forgive me for hating Agnes. I want to curse her, but I know that I must not hate anyone. Give me the power over my hatred to forgive her. I can pity Agnes for her evil father and be thankful that my father was kind and good. Besides, I know Agnes will be punished for her deception and wrongdoing when she is caught and I am restored to my rightful station.”

The prayer made her feel calmer, but then she stuck her finger with the needle. She put her finger in her mouth as someone approached, their soft footfalls on the flagstones of the corridor announcing the person to be a small woman wearing soft-soled slippers.

Katrin appeared in the doorway.

“Katrin! I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“Maggie, how do you fare? I was sent to assist you in your work.”

“You were?”

“Yes, Lady Magdalen sent me.” She looked pointedly at the dress in Magdalen’s lap and then at the stack of dresses beside her. “She said you had some mending I could help you with.”

“How generous of Lady Magdalen.” Ironic to be praising Agnes for allowing someone to help her resew her own dresses to fit the person who had usurped her.

Katrin picked up a dress, and Magdalen showed her how to rip out the seams in the middle of the dress in order to sew a higher waist, since Agnes was shorter and thicker in the middle than Magdalen.

“Where was Lady Magdalen off to?” Katrin asked.

“Oh, she went for a walk in the gardens with her husband.”

“It is a pleasant day for a walk. Tell me about your home in Mallin. That is where you are from, isn’t it? How did you come to Wolfberg?”

“You know I came here—” She had to swallow before saying the words. “With Lady Magdalen.” Perhaps she should just tell Katrin the truth. It would be easier for Magdalen, but the truth was a secret that would be a heavy burden for poor Katrin to have to carry around.

Katrin kept sewing.

“I left my mother and sisters in Mallin. They saw it as my opportunity for a better life.” That much was true.

“But why were you sent to take care of the geese when you first arrived?”

“My mistress was displeased with me. But she decided she wanted me back as her personal servant.”

“Oh.”