She began his first German lesson, in which she taught him to say, “My name is Gawain. Mein Name ist Gawain. I speak a little of your language. Ich spreche ein bisschen von Ihrer Sprache.”
She also told him all about her family and asked him about his. He was obliged to tell her he had a mother and father and several younger siblings, that he was the oldest child, and that he had left home abruptly a few months before, leaving word where he was going but not speaking to his family about his quest, since they would have forbidden him to go.
Frau Lena came into the room. When the healer saw Margaretha sitting close to his bed, her forehead creased. She spoke softly — chidingly, if he understood her tone — probably about spending so much time at his bedside. The healer clearly thought him merely a lost beggar with a few eggs short of a dozen, but Lady Margaretha must have talked Frau Lena into letting her stay and teach him German. He hardly understood a word they were saying in that strange, guttural language of theirs, but he read a lot in their facial expressions and tone.
Lady Margaretha turned back to him with a smile. “Now what else shall I teach you? Thank you is danke.”
Frau Lena left through the doorway in the back of the room, which led to what looked like a storage area.
Colin said, “Lady Margaretha, won’t you take me to see your father?”
“I don’t believe you are well enough yet, and I don’t want you to become frantic. It is not good for you. You want to get your strength back, don’t you?”
“Will you take me to see him tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.” She bit her lip and her brows came together, forming a wrinkle above her nose. “I would have to ask Frau Lena.”
“Oh, no you wouldn’t. You and I could sneak away when she was not watching us. It could easily be done.”
“I wouldn’t want to anger Frau Lena. She knows what is best for you.”
“If you will not take me to see him, then I shall go by myself.” Would she give in to him? She seemed a sweet, compliant sort of girl.
But she only smiled and shook her head. “You would not be allowed to get anywhere near him. We have many guards, and a stranger like you would be noticed and escorted out of the castle.”
He looked down at his hideous green clothes. She had a point.
“Besides, my father knows very little English. You would have a difficult time communicating with him without me.”
Had he really thought she was lovely? Sweet and compliant? That smug, knowing smile was making his headache worse. If only she wasn’t right.
“If you will promise me that you will do everything Frau Lena says, I will try to get you a private audience with my father in a few days.”
Perhaps that was the best he could hope for. “Very well, I promise — if you will promise to get me something to wear other than these hideous green clothes.”
She smiled sweetly again. “I agree. You need proper clothing. I am sorry Frau Lena couldn’t find anything better. One of my brothers should have something. You are closest to my brother Gabe’s size, though you are thinner. I may be able to find some clothes he left here when he married Sophie and went to Hohendorf.”
She didn’t have to remind him how thin he had become. He’d never been brawny, but he looked out-and-out puny since nearly getting beaten to death and left to die at the edge of nowhere. But he must be polite to her, as she was his only friend. Softly, he said, “If you can find me some clothes that don’t make me look ridiculous, I would be obliged to you.”
“I shall. And when I bring them to you, you must say, “Danke für die Kleidung.”
“What does that mean?”
“Thank you for the clothes.”
“Danke für . . . what was it?”
She repeated the phrase, and he said it after her.
Frau Lena came back, bringing him a bowl of soup and a small loaf of bread. “Danke,” he told her, which made the fair, red-haired healer smile and say, “Sehr gut.”
“That means, ‘very good.’ ” Margaretha reached out as though to take his bowl of soup.
“Nein!” He already knew how to say no. “Why are you taking my soup?”
“I only wanted to help you.”
“To feed me? No, thank you. I’m not that helpless.” He held the bowl in his lap and picked up the spoon. Putting the first spoonful of soup in his mouth, he glanced up at her to make sure she wasn’t off ended by his rebuff. He was not exactly behaving properly toward the daughter of a duke, but in his defense, she wasn’t behaving like any daughter of any duke he knew.
She was smiling the way one might smile at a small child. Irritating.
The soup was good, and he ate and listened to her talk about her family. They sounded like a jolly group, the many brothers and sisters, and she obviously loved her mother and father. He tried to think how he might get her to mention that fiend, if indeed he was in Hagenheim.