“Why not? I can do it.”
His frown deepened, along with his faraway look. “This could end very badly.”
“It won’t end badly. Besides, I want to do it, to thank you for what you did for me today, and for keeping my secret about riding the black stallion.” She smiled, confident she could do this. For him. “It will turn out well. You’ll see.”
Chapter
10
Seven days after Colin le Wyse had been brought to Hagenheim Castle on a cart, half starved and half dead, he was cleaning out the castle stables and brushing down the horses.
At least he had his strength back.
As he brushed down another horse, he relived the events of the day before. His heart beat at a frantic pace at just remembering how Margaretha had flown, head first, off that demon-possessed horse’s back. He thanked God that she had fallen just short of the well instead of falling against its stone — or into it, where she might have struck her head and drowned.
Even though she sometimes chattered incessantly, treated him like a lack-witted servant, and was naive in not taking his warnings seriously enough, she had a sweet smile and kind nature. The thought of Claybrook being anywhere near her made his heart sink, especially when he imagined her spying on the man. If that criminal were to discover her, he would probably kill her. He could only hope Claybrook would never believe her capable or clever enough to spy on him.
Not that Colin thought she wasn’t. She was intelligent. But he could easily imagine Claybrook underestimating her.
Even so, if Claybrook caught her eavesdropping, he would kill her the way he had killed Philippa — by strangling her and throwing her body in the river.
He never should have asked her to spy.
If only Duke Wilhelm would return to Hagenheim, Colin would find some way to talk to him. If the duke was a good man, as everyone said he was, he would surely investigate his claims and soon discover that Claybrook was a heartless, devious, power-hungry devil.
At least Margaretha was safe for now.
Men’s voices drew near from the other side of the stable. As he continued to brush the large war horse, five men rounded the corner of the building. The one talking was Claybrook.
The image of John’s mangled body and vacant, staring eyes swept over him. If he had a sword, or any weapon, he could kill Claybrook now. But that would not be the right way to bring him to justice. No. When he confronted Claybrook, he wanted it to be in front of many witnesses, after everyone already knew of his treachery and foul, black heart.
Colin kept brushing, but he slowly moved so that the horse was between him and Claybrook.
Claybrook was leading a brown horse by the reins. He handed him off to one of the four men who were with him.
“. . . We have two days,” Claybrook was saying, in English. “We’ll talk more tomorrow morning. Tonight I must continue wooing Lady Margaretha.”
Claybrook didn’t immediately leave. He looked around the stable yard. Colin kept his head down, squatting to rub the horse’s legs and hide his face behind the gelding’s flank.
“Du.” The guard holding the reins was looking at him. Du, Colin had learned, was the German word for you.
Colin recognized the man. He was one of the men who had attacked him and his faithful friend, John. “Du,” he said again. Then he said something in German that Colin was fairly certain meant, “Come here and take this horse.”
Colin straightened slowly. He had no choice but to walk across the stable yard and take the horse from Claybrook’s guard.
He slumped his shoulders and kept his head down slightly as he walked. All the while he was thinking of what he should do if Claybrook or the guard recognized him.
But by the time Colin reached out to take the horse’s reins, the guard wasn’t even looking at him, and Claybrook had turned and was walking away. Colin watched as the men strode out of sight.
What was Claybrook plotting? He’d said something about two days. Was he planning to do something evil in two days?
Colin had to find out.
Margaretha sat in the Great Hall sharing the evening meal. Lord Claybrook sat beside her, telling her about his travels. She tried to behave normally, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what Colin had said about Lord Claybrook killing his sister’s friend, a young woman who was pregnant with his child. While Claybrook told her about the weather, things they had seen and people they had met, she turned and looked into his eyes. Was it her imagination, or did he look cold and devious?