“Yes, Lady Margaretha.” The whites of her eyes were visible all the way around her irises.
“Now, you must stop looking so afraid.”
“I don’t know how!” she said in a plaintive whisper.
Margaretha took her hand. “Listen to me. Take a deep breath. Now close your eyes. And when you open them, don’t open them so wide, ja?” Margaretha smiled at her as she opened her eyes a slit. “That’s good. You can do this. You are very brave. We are all brave now. We must be.”
Britta took another deep breath and did indeed look much calmer.
“I am sorry, but I do not think you will be able to rejoin us outside the gate once you go back in.”
“Oh, I do not mind that, my lady. I prefer to die — that is, I prefer to be where my family is, and where Gustaf is.” She burst into tears at the name of her soldier sweetheart.
And she had been making such progress.
“There, there,” Margaretha soothed. “You must not cry. We need you. Bezilo needs you if he hopes to recover. Now run to fetch Frau Lena. Quickly.”
Britta wiped her nose on her apron and nodded. “Yes, Lady Margaretha. I shall not fail.”
“Wait,” Colin said. “Margaretha.” He stepped quite close to her. “I think you and Anne should go with Britta.”
“With Britta? Why? I must go to Marienberg to get help.”
“Let me go to Marienberg to get help. You will be much safer here with Britta and her family in the town. They can hide you and Claybrook need never know you’re there. Just disguise yourself before you go in — ”
“No! You don’t know me at all if you think I will hide here when I could be going for help to save my family.” The very idea made her breathe hard and her face grow warm.
Colin’s jawline was firm and his eyes bored into hers. “Traveling to Marienberg is dangerous. We have no guards. We won’t even have horses at first. Thieves roam these roads, attacking and stealing — and worse. It’s not safe for you.”
“I will not discuss this.” When she saw the woebegone flash of anguish in his eyes, she softened her tone. “I’m sorry, but you cannot persuade me. I would never cower in hiding while my family was in danger.” She glanced at Britta, who was still staring, apparently waiting for her to give her the final order. “Britta, you may go. Remember all that I said.”
Britta turned and hurried away toward the town gate, glancing at the dead guards on the ground and making a great semi-circle to avoid them.
“What? Are those men over there . . . dead?” Anne scrunched her face to such distortion that her upper lip was touching her nose and her eyebrows met in the middle — just above the translucent blue vein between her eyes. It was perhaps her only physical flaw, that blue vein that had fascinated Margaretha since she was a child. She’d often stared at it without meaning to.
“We’re at war, or shortly will be,” Margaretha said, feigning indifference toward the dead guards, “and we cannot be squeamish about such things. Come, we must go before any more of Claybrook’s men find us.”
Anne looked alarmed at that and hastened to keep up, as Margaretha started through the trees toward the cottage where Bezilo could rest and wait for Frau Lena.
To think, a week ago her little brothers’ teasing had been her biggest trial in life, along with having to decide whether to reject another suitor or marry him. How quickly life could change and turn her world upside down.
Chapter
17
Colin would never have thought the prattling but sweet Lady Margaretha could be such an asset in a war. First, she had saved herself and two friends from Claybrook’s guards. Then, she had rescued him from the dungeon and led them all through a secret tunnel out of the castle. And when confronted with two more of Claybrook’s guards, she had done exactly what he needed her to do, knocking them out with the candlestick she had hidden inside her sleeve.
He’d never been more shocked — or more impressed — in his life.
But once again, Colin found himself responsible for someone else’s well-being — two someones, if he included Anne, although he felt certain she would take the first opportunity to stay behind if they found a safe place for her.
They left Bezilo in the care of Frau Lena’s friend, at her cottage in the glen. The noble and chivalrous guard off ered Colin his sword, the one he had used to kill Claybrook’s guards, but Colin refused it, feeling he could travel faster without it.
Then they continued on, traveling along the edge of the forest next to the road to avoid being seen by Claybrook’s guards, who would be searching for them, to a place Margaretha knew where they could purchase horses.
Margaretha chattered cheerfully most of the way, while Anne muttered frequent complaints. Colin only knew this, of course, because Margaretha, in her pleasant tone, translated for him. “It would be rude not to,” she had said.