Page 84 of The Noble Servant

But she must not long for that. She should be trying to think of what to do next. That was what her friend Avelina would do. “What is our plan, now that we’ve likely found what Lord Hazen wanted in our mines?”

“We can hope that Lenhart made it safely to your mother’s house, and that my courier is able to deliver your letter to Thornbeck—or that at least one or the other will reach their destination. Therefore, we should try to get back to Wolfberg to be there when they arrive.”

Magdalen thought for a moment. “That sounds reasonable.”

“And now I suppose we should go to sleep. We will need our wits about us tomorrow.”

She thought back on how she had wiped the blood from his face when he’d been beaten. Twice. How she had sympathized with him when he was afraid of small dark places. And now to hear the gentleness in his voice, the kindness and sympathy, it caused a strange tugging at her heart.

She should stop thinking these thoughts and go to sleep.

After what seemed like a long time, she heard Steffan’s breathing grow loud and even. Soon she drifted off to sleep as well.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Steffan awoke with a start. What was that sound? And why could he not see? Had his fire gone out in the hearth?

Then it came to him—sleeping in the servants’ quarters, trying to get his place back from his cousin and uncle, and being on the run with Magdalen.

“Magdalen? Are you there?”

The only answer was a small cry, then, “Steffan!”

“I’m here. What is wrong?” He scrambled to his knees and crawled to where he thought she should be. He reached out his hand and touched her.

Her hand grabbed his, and then he heard a tiny sob. He put his arms around her. Would she be shocked and pull away? She didn’t, but instead leaned her head on his shoulder. He could feel her breath on his neck.

“What is wrong? Did you have a bad dream?” He’d had enough of them to know how they could make your heart race and keep you awake for a long time afterward.

“Something was chasing me, a wild animal.” She pressed her face closer to his shoulder and took deep breaths. “I couldn’t getaway. I tried to move. I think I kicked my foot against the wall and woke myself up.”

Holding her in his arms made his chest expand, and a strange sensation overtook him. She was holding him back, with her arms around him. The darkness seemed to whisper to him that he could kiss her and no one would know, that she would not push him away.

It was a dangerous thought.

“I know it sounds foolish, but that dream frightened me so much.”

“It’s not foolish at all. Dreams can be very frightening.” When he was very young, after he had fallen in the well, his sister had often comforted him.

“I knew it was a dream. After all, there are no animals that walk upright like a man and have red eyes and fangs that drip blood and saliva. I even kept telling myself to wake up.”

“I think those are the worst, when you’re telling yourself to wake up but you can’t. I’m sure you dreamed that because of what happened tonight.”

Gertrudt had told him once, after a servant girl burst into tears after he chastised her, “Women don’t want brutal honesty. They prefer a gentle, encouraging word. You had better learn that before you get married, or I pity your wife.” Did he sound gentle and encouraging?

“I’m sure you’re right. What do you do when you’re afraid?”

“Lately a Scripture passage keeps springing into my mind. ‘I lift up my eyes to the mountains—where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.’ ”

“Oh, I know that one. It’s in my Psalter. I especially remember this part: ‘The Lord will keep you from all harm—he will watchover your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.’ ”

“That’s excellent.” Hearing her quote Scripture made his heart leap, just as it had earlier when they were trying to get out of the mine. He’d never felt this way about any woman before. But then ... his heart beat faster as an image of his distraught father invaded his thoughts, a memory of him sobbing over Steffan’s mother’s grave, and of the vacant look in his eyes in the weeks and months following her death.

If something happened to Magdalen, would he grieve as his father had?

“Do you know another passage of Scripture?”

He blinked to dispel the memory. “My tutor used to make me memorize scriptures. I liked this one: ‘Not by might nor by power, but by my Spirit,’ says the Lord Almighty. ‘What are you, mighty mountain? Before Zerubbabel you will become level ground.’ ”