“You will never make it across the courtyard. You should rest a bit longer. You are not well yet.” She stepped forward and caught him by the arm, hoping to keep him from falling.
“I said, don’t try to stop me.” His tone and his eyes were fierce, but the rest of him looked as weak as a newborn kitten.
“I am not trying to stop you.” Margaretha hoped her voice sounded soothing. “Stille, ruhig bleiben. Everything is all right.”
“I am well enough to see him. I shall see him. You will not stop me.”
“Stille, ruhig bleiben.” It was hard to think in English. She tried to think of some comforting phrase, something appropriate for the situation, and remembered her English tutor teaching her a lullaby with the words, Hush, now. So she said, “Hush, now. All shall be well. No one is trying to stop you.”
“Then why do you have hold of my arm?” He swayed again and blinked hard. His voice was getting weaker.
“I didn’t want you to fall. I would take you to Duke Wilhelm myself — he is my father, as you know — but I’m afraid he has gone hunting.” Her memory of the language seemed to be coming back to her, the more she spoke it. “He’ll be away most of the day. So you see, you couldn’t go and see him, even if you were able.”
“A-ha!” he yelled, then sagged forward.
Margaretha grabbed his shoulders and pushed, to keep him from falling to the floor on his face. Once she had him more upright and balanced than not, she asked, “What is ‘a-ha’?”
“You think I am not able to go to him . . . to speak to him.” He was huffing, as if it was taking all his strength simply to talk and breathe. “But I am . . . full able.”
“Ja, klar. Of course, of course.” She pulled his arm over her shoulder, taking much of his weight upon herself, and slowly turned him back toward the bed. He seemed beyond protestations now.
“What is happening here?” Frau Lena strode toward them. “He shouldn’t be out of bed.” The healer put her arm around him on the other side, and they helped him down onto the bed. Margaretha supported his shoulders as she laid his head on the pillow. Almost instantly, he was unconscious.
His face was as pale as death. Even his lips were colorless. His eyes were closed, and his unusually long black eyelashes did not even flutter. “Is he very ill? Will he die?”
“I don’t think so.” Frau Lena was smiling. “He is only weak from blood loss and going so long without food or water. Besides that, he took quite a beating and has a fever.”
Together they stared down at him, his chest barely rising and falling. Then Margaretha noticed his clothing. “Wherever did he get such clothes?” Over a coarse woolen shirt, he wore a leather jerkin and leather breeches. That wasn’t so unusual, but the color was — bright green and mottled with greenish yellow spots.
Frau Lena shook her head. “It was the only thing I could find that would fit him. I had to go to the laundress and beg for something, and she gave them to me. Apparently the tanner’s wife was experimenting with new dyes.”
“The experiment was a failure.” Margaretha frowned at the strikingly ugly garments.
“These clothes fit the laundress’s son, but he refused to wear them.” She pursed her lips, as though trying not to laugh.
“Well, it’s cruel to force this poor foreigner to wear them.”
“I didn’t force him to wear them.” They were whispering, watching him breathe. “He must have awakened this morning and found them by his bed and put them on. His other clothes were beyond mending, I’m afraid.”
“I shall try to find him something better. He is determined to speak to the duke no matter if he does look like a . . . a giant frog.” Margaretha shook her head.
“I imagine he will fill out his clothes better when he is able to eat more. For now, these will do. I don’t want him escaping here before he is completely well, and we can better track him while he’s wearing these . . . green clothes.”
Margaretha could see the sense in that. Still, it was a shame anyone should have to wear such an outfit. It was almost as bad as Lord Claybrook’s ensembles.
“Cook is preparing some special soup for him,” Frau Lena went on, “and I plan to feed him more today. Yesterday, he wasn’t able to eat much.”
“I wish I could do something to help.”
Frau Lena smiled, her freckles stretching across her cheeks. “Pray for him. He needs to get his strength back and stop being so frantic. I’m afraid his mind is still affected.”
Margaretha embraced the healer. “That is what I shall do. Thank you for caring for him. Do you think you will need one of the maids to come and help?”
“If I do, I shall ask them. Don’t worry.”
Margaretha left her, feeling a strange urgency to pray for the poor young man who seemed so lost.
Chapter
5
Margaretha managed to sneak away again the next day and go to Frau Lena’s chamber.