The Princess Spy

Lord Claybrook propped his elbows on the table, bringing his long, slender fingers together in a point in front of his lips. “You speak English fairly well. You told me so the first day I met you. I wonder, did you know where your mother and sisters were going this morning?”

 

 

“They were going on a picnic. Why do you care?” She tried her best imperious look again, but her lips trembled.

 

“That young Englishman my men took to the dungeon shall be your undoing, Lady Margaretha. Now I think you had best tell me the truth.”

 

“The truth about what?” Her heart beat haltingly inside her chest. She couldn’t pretend much longer. He already knew she knew. Still, if there was a chance that he might believe her ignorant of his plans . . .

 

“Yield yourself to my will, for I will have my way. The strongest always prevails, and I am the strongest.” He leaned toward her.

 

“What are you talking of? That stable boy? What does he have to do with you preventing my mother from going on a picnic?”

 

“Spare me the feigned innocence. If you cooperate with me, I shall still marry you, and I might even spare that English boy, who thought he could stop me and has once again failed. But if you do not cooperate with me . . .” He looked down at his hand, as though examining his nails. He started clicking his tongue against his teeth and slowly shaking his head. “Who is to say what might happen to the English lad and his noble ideas of justice, not to mention Lady Rose and your sisters?”

 

“Are you evil enough to threaten my mother and sisters? How dare you.”

 

Anne’s eyes were round, her mouth hanging open in a look of disbelief. But Margaretha had to keep her mind focused.

 

“I wouldn’t marry you, not ever. You must be mad if you think you can intimidate me that much. And if you harm my family members, I will see you delivered to the king’s royal judges and hanged.”

 

Lord Claybrook’s face twisted into an ugly sneer. She couldn’t believe she had ever thought him handsome. “You will be begging me to marry you before I’m finished with this family and this town.” His voice was like the hiss of an adder.

 

What should she do? What sort of tactic could she employ? She had to escape, to go get help. She feared Claybrook had stopped Bezilo from going to warn her father — might even have killed him. She had no doubt he was capable of killing Colin or a guard, but would he dare harm her mother — a duchess — and her other family members? He had already promised to kill the Duke of Hagenheim and his heir.

 

Margaretha’s words and actions now might mean life or death to many people. She had to think.

 

She would intentionally refrain from mentioning Colin in the hopes that she could pretend she didn’t care about him and perhaps make Claybrook forget about him, at least temporarily. There was the tunnel that led underneath the town wall. It was her best chance of escape, or going to get help, if she could reach it. And if Claybrook’s uncle was bringing his guards, she would need to get help from someone who could send an army to take Hagenheim back from the villainous Claybrook and his evil uncle.

 

Her mother’s father, the Duke of Marienberg, would be able to send soldiers, and along with her father’s knights who had accompanied him, when they returned, there would be enough men to defeat Claybrook.

 

At least, she hoped it was so.

 

She only had to escape and make her way to Marienberg.

 

“I would never beg to marry you. And if you hurt the people I love, you shall be forced to kill me, because I will never consent to be your wife.”

 

He stared at her a long time, then caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, grasping her arm with his other hand. “That would be a pity.”

 

She wrenched her face out of his grasp.

 

He barked to his guard, “Don’t let these two out of your sight,” pointing to Margaretha and Anne. And Claybrook stomped out of the Great Hall, his footfalls echoing off the flagstone floor.

 

“Margaretha!” Anne gasped. “What is this trouble you’ve got me into!”

 

“I’m sorry you came when you did, Anne. Not the best time for a visit, but it’s hardly my fault Lord Claybrook is trying to kill my father and take over Hagenheim.”

 

“What?” Anne’s incredulous look was not becoming. Her eyes bulged and her cheeks and lips drained of all color. She went so pale, a blue vein was visible above the bridge of her nose. She then made a sound like she was choking. After visibly swallowing and blinking, she said, “He wouldn’t kill me, would he? After all, I’m only a cousin . . . your father’s niece.” The last word came out as a squeak.

 

Margaretha didn’t answer. She was staring at the guard Claybrook had ordered to watch them. He was staring back at her with cold, heartless eyes. Another guard stood in the open doorway. One guard might have been possible to trick, but two?

 

“I’m afraid I have to go to the garderobe.” Margaretha stepped right up to the nearest guard. “It’s not far and I will be back soon — ”

 

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