The Princess Spy

Toby had run ahead of them and was squatting and playing in the mud with his fingers. As they drew near, Toby wiped his fingers on his clothes.

 

They kept walking and Margaretha grew more cheerful again. She smiled and laughed and talked. The only problem was that she mostly talked to Toby, in German, and Colin couldn’t understand her. He would have to learn this language.

 

But after he and Margaretha were able to get help from the Duke of Marienberg, and after he captured Claybrook, he would be on his way back to England, possibly in less than two weeks. After that, he would have no reason to learn German.

 

No reason to see Margaretha again.

 

The thought was physically painful, like a boulder sitting on his chest. But what could he do to change it?

 

It was another long day of walking. At least they had food, and when they stopped to settle in for the night, he would try to snare more.

 

They stopped for water late in the day, and Toby fell asleep on the grass.

 

“Poor thing.” Margaretha gazed sweetly at the little boy as she brushed his blond hair off his forehead. “He’s not used to walking so much.”

 

“The travelers we met earlier said it is only one more long day of walking before we reach Marienberg.”

 

Abruptly, she looked up at Colin. “What are you thinking?”

 

The question took him off guard. He could tell her he was thinking how pleased he was that they had brought Toby with them, because he had been thinking that earlier. But the truth was that he had been trying to think how to either convince her to go with him to England, or to convince himself to stay with her here in the Holy Roman Empire. But he had nothing here. He couldn’t even speak the language.

 

She was still staring at him, and again said, “I want to know what you are thinking.”

 

“I am thinking . . . that we had better start walking if we want to reach Marienberg by nightfall tomorrow.”

 

“Is that truly what you were thinking?” She raised her eyebrows dubiously.

 

“It’s what I’m thinking now.”

 

She frowned at him. “How is your finger?”

 

“It is well. No blister, thanks to you.”

 

She smiled back at him. “We have almost made it to Marienberg. Only one more day, and I want to know more about your family. What are your parents like? Your brothers and sisters? I want to hear stories about them and what they look like.”

 

“Why are you so curious about me suddenly?” He couldn’t help laughing at the sweet innocence in her face, the way she looked almost guilty at his question.

 

“I am not suddenly curious. I have been curious about you since the day I met you.” She looked pleased that she had been able to turn his question around. “From the first day I saw your bright blue eyes, I wondered what sort of things were tumbling about in your head.”

 

“What sort of madness, you mean?”

 

“Now don’t bring that up again. I have said I was sorry for thinking you were mad when you weren’t.”

 

“I am not angry.”

 

“Good. Because I found you interesting, nevertheless.”

 

“Interesting?”

 

“Yes, of course. And when you went on and on about Lord Claybrook, saying he was a murderer, how your eyes did sparkle and grow dark! It was quite exciting. I have only seen them like that a few times since.”

 

“Even I am intrigued by me.”

 

“It’s true. And then when I saw you in the stable, after you were well again, I thought you quite handsome. I even thought about fixing you up with one of the maids, because, I will admit, I am a great matchmaker.”

 

“Fixing me up with one of the maids?” The idea might have made him sad if it were not so ludicrous.

 

“Oh yes, but don’t worry. I would certainly not do that now, not now that I know you are an English earl’s son.”

 

“You think me not good enough for one of your maids?”

 

“You are jesting.” She plucked some weeds and threw them at him.

 

He chuckled. Finally, staring into her eyes, he asked her seriously, “Who would you match me with now?” He held his breath as he waited for her answer.

 

“Now?” Her expression was sober, almost frightened. “Now . . . I would not presume . . .” Sounding breathless, she said, “You are too handsome for anyone I know.”

 

“Not too handsome for . . . you.” He should not say such a thing, but knowing he only had one more day alone with her made him reckless.

 

“Me? Why do you say that?” Now she looked as if she was holding her breath.

 

“Because you said you thought me handsome in my stable clothes, and we’ve already established that you are beautiful.”

 

She seemed to slowly recover her composure. “I did not agree, and therefore that is not established.” But a jaunty look came into her eyes.

 

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