Six days had gone by since Colin had been brought to Frau Lena’s chamber, speaking English and raving about being in danger. And still Margaretha had not been able to speak to the duke about him. The first night, her father had come home late and she hadn’t wanted to bother him. The next morning, he had left early. He’d been called away to the far side of the region to settle a dispute and track down some robbers who had been terrorizing the roads.
She had not fulfilled her promises to the English foreigner. It hadn’t exactly been her fault that she had not spoken to her father, but she had also not come back to visit him in the last three days, or found him some better clothes in which to meet Duke Wilhelm.
Her mother had remarked about her being so quiet. How could she tell her mother that she felt bad for not fulfilling a promise? Her mother might scold her, and she couldn’t break another promise — the promise not to tell anyone about Colin.
But was it her fault that Frau Lena thought it best she not visit the Englishman anymore? If Lord Claybrook had been there, she might have watched him to try to find out if what Colin said about him was true. But Claybrook had taken some of his men and gone with her father.
Margaretha kicked a weed. She stopped to pull it out of the ground, absently shredding the leaves one by one and continuing on to the stable. She would go and visit him again even if Frau Lena didn’t approve. She would also brave his displeasure at her not having been able to talk to her father yet, just as soon as she’d taken her ride.
A stable boy walked past her carrying water and dumped it into the trough for the horses. He must be new, since she didn’t recognize him. His hair was thick and dark and curled at his ears and neck, and he was tall.
If he was new . . . A smile spread over her face. He wouldn’t know that she was not allowed to ride the black stallion Lord Claybrook had given her father.
The new stable boy seemed to be muttering to himself as he emptied the bucket in the trough, then went to the well to refill it. Margaretha went into the stable, undetected, and found the black stallion in his stall. He allowed her to stroke his neck, and when she offered him a carrot, he took it carefully from her palm.
The new stable boy returned to empty another bucket into the trough. There was something appealing about the confident way he held his head and shoulders. He was almost regal. Perhaps she could find a sweet kitchen maid who would be a good match for him. If only he would look up and let her see his face. But he dumped his water and went back to the well for more.
The stable master, Dieter, was coming toward her, talking with another of the servants. Margaretha slipped quietly into her own mare Blüte’s stall, rubbing the gray horse’s cheek and giving her the last carrot in her pocket to keep her quiet until Dieter and the other stable boy had passed through to the other side of the stable.
Through the open doorway she heard the new stable boy coming back, so she slipped out again, closing Blüte’s stall door quietly, and hurried out to stop him. He poured out the last of the water and set his bucket on the ground.
“Stable boy, I need you to saddle a horse for me.”
The boy froze, then turned on his heel to face her. His flashing blue eyes were unmistakable as they pierced her through.
“Colin! Es ist-du!”
Spirits above, but he did look good. He was shaved, his cuts and bruises were almost healed, and she could see by the way he filled out his brown woolen tunic that he had already gained some weight. She switched to speaking in English, which she had recently refreshed by looking at the texts her English tutor had left her.
“You don’t look at all pitiable anymore.”
He raised one black eyebrow, the side of his mouth twisting downward. “Thank you. A man always prefers not to look pitiable, if possible.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insulting. I only meant that you look . . . good.” It would require a special kitchen maid indeed to be a match for him now.
“Are you healed? And what are you doing working in the stables? Did Frau Lena say you were well enough?” She felt her face turn red. What must he think of her? After she had completely ignored his pleas to come back and visit him, after she had deserted him for three days, he must hate her. And worst of all, he must realize that she had not fulfilled her promise to speak to her father on his behalf.
She fidgeted with her sleeves, shifting from one foot to the other, waiting for him to reproach her.
He started toward her, then walked past, entering the stable and heading for the room where the horses’ saddles and tack were kept. “I was assigned to work in the stables only yesterday because I refused to leave Hagenheim until I had spoken to Duke Wilhelm.”
Was his mind healed? It seemed to be so at the moment.
“I know you must be angry with me for not speaking to the duke as you asked me to. Truly, after the first couple of days, when you were too weak to talk to him yourself, I had no chance to speak to him. He was called away on urgent business. Lord Claybrook has been away as well.” She cringed as she said the name that had elicited such an extreme reaction from him before. But he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he leaned down and lifted a sidesaddle from its place near the wall.