Colin was looking at her with a slight frown, a troubled crease between his eyes. Then he turned his head to look at his surroundings. “I don’t remember anything after we got away from the castle. It was night and there were some men in red livery . . . Claybrook’s men.”
“That’s right. That was last night. Then this morning we got up about an hour ago and started riding. We came upon those horrible men who stole our horses.” And our food, and our money, and our blankets. But she didn’t want to overwhelm him.
“Where did you say we were going?” He squinted up at her, as though the light was painful.
“To Marienberg, to get help from the duke, who is my cousin.”
“Why were we getting help?” He closed his eyes and rubbed his brow.
“Oh dear. Colin, don’t you remember?”
“I . . . I remember I came here to fetch Claybrook back to England.”
“Yes, but that was weeks ago.”
“And I remember I was trying to get to Hagenheim with my friend John, and Claybrook’s men murdered him and nearly killed me. When I woke up in Hagenheim Castle, you were there, and I found out Claybrook was at the castle.”
“Yes. Lord Claybrook was courting me — ”
“But you didn’t want to marry him. I remember that.” He looked at her with wide, excited eyes.
“Yes. I mean, no, I didn’t.”
He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, as if trying to remember something. “You were on a black horse. I thought you were about to be killed. The horse stopped and you flew off. Were you hurt? I can’t remember.”
“No, I was not badly hurt. How does your head feel? Are you feeling pain anywhere else?”
“I think someone kicked me in the side, but nothing feels broken. Except my head.” He lifted his hand to his forehead and touched the old wound. He winced. “My head feels broken.”
“You just lie still.” Margaretha didn’t know what else to do. “I don’t think you should get up. You might faint. Do you remember yet that we were on our way to Marienberg?”
He kept his eyes closed while he talked. “Marienberg does not sound familiar. But I do remember you didn’t want to marry me because you don’t want to leave your family.”
“Well, I . . . I . . .” Margaretha felt her face grow hot. “I don’t believe anything was ever said about . . . that, but . . . it is true that I had hoped to marry someone near my family.”
His lips parted, then his face gradually became tense. He opened his eyes and squinted up at her. “I am talking like a madman again, aren’t I? I remember now. You thought I was mad. You and everyone else at Hagenheim Castle, because I was raving about Claybrook, and no one could understand my English, except you. But even you thought I was mad. I remember now.”
Her face seemed to be afflicted with a perpetual blush. “I am sorry about that. I should not have doubted you. You were completely justified in warning me, as it turned out. And I don’t believe you are mad now, either. You simply need to rest and your memory will come back to you.” But she wasn’t nearly as sure as she wished she was.
He opened his eyes. “I’m afraid I don’t remember much about the last few days . . . or weeks. I’m not sure how long.”
“Don’t worry. It will come back to you.”
“But you and I . . . we are . . . ?” He lifted questioning brows at her.
Margaretha wasn’t sure what he was about to say, but she was too afraid to wait for it. “We are friends who are on our way to Marienberg. We escaped from Claybrook and his guards and Hagenheim Castle with Lady Anne, my cousin, and a maid named Britta. Do you remember that?”
“Was I in the dungeon?”
“Yes! You are remembering. We escaped the castle through a tunnel that went from the dungeon to a meadow outside the town wall. Then we found Bezilo, one of my father’s trusted guards, and we rescued him from two of Claybrook’s men.”
“Did Bezilo kill them? With a sword?”
“Yes. Britta went back to Hagenheim and we took Anne to her home, where we stole two horses.”
“I remember this. It was good that Anne did not come with us. We stole the horses . . . What happened next?”
Why did he think it was good Anne did not come with them? “Well, we rode the rest of that day and all the next day. Then that night we saw five of Claybrook’s men, who had decided to stop for the night in almost the same spot we had chosen.”
“Yes, I remember that. We were in the woods and it was dark. You were holding on to my arm, and I kissed you.”
“What?” Margaretha sat back on her heels. “No. No, that did not happen.” She felt herself blushing more furiously than ever, her breath coming fast at the thought. “I can’t imagine why you would think . . . no, you did not kiss me.” I would have remembered that.
“Oh. No, of course not. Forgive me. Of course I didn’t . . . I wouldn’t . . .” Now he was blushing.
He was very handsome when he blushed.