Page 7 of The Beautiful Pretender

Somehow she had to convince a powerful margrave that she was the Earl of Plimmwald’s daughter, and she must not allow herself to be chosen to be his bride.

The latter task would no doubt be easier than the former.

3

“LORDTHORNBECK,SOMEguests have arrived.”

Reinhart did not look up from the report he was reading. The servant cleared his throat. Finally, he lifted his head as two ladies swept into the room—his own personal library where he kept his important documents and letters, his private sanctuary.

“The Lady Fronicka, daughter of the Duke of Geitbart,” the servant announced, “and the Lady Applonia, daughter of the Earl of Hindenberg.”

Reinhart glared at the servant. Was it not clear that ladies were not to be ushered into his presence when they arrived? Bad enough that he had to make conversation with them at mealtimes in the Great Hall.

The two young ladies probably expected him to stand and bow politely. Instead, he grunted.

Lady Fronicka stepped forward. “My lord, you are so gracious to invite us to Thornbeck Castle for the next weeks’ festivities. I am very—”

“Lady Fronicka, I did not invite you to be gracious. I simply am following the king’s wishes that I marry a nobleman’s daughter, an alliance that will strengthen the Holy Roman Empire and the king’s authority in it. And now you and Lady Applonia may feelfree to rest in your rooms after your long journey. I have work to do. The servants will see to your needs.”

Lady Fronicka raised her brows. Lady Applonia stared with her mouth slightly open.

Finally, Lady Fronicka smiled. “We shall look forward to seeing you, Lord Thornbeck, in the Great Hall.”

He nodded and they left. “Come here,” he ordered the manservant who was still skulking by the door.

“Yes, Lord Thornbeck?” The man eagerly strode forward.

“Your job is to make sure I am not disturbed unless something of vital importance occurs. You are not to show any ladies into this study. If it happens again, you shall be sent to feed the pigs. Is that understood?”

“Yes, my lord. Forgive me.” The man’s face turned red.

“Now go.”

Avelina made her way to her family’s home just beyond the castle courtyard, picking her way around the manure piles in the dirt streets.

Before she reached the door, a high-pitched voice called out, “Avelina!”

She turned to see the two little faces she loved more than any others in the world. “What are you both doing?”

“We were playing with Frau Clara’s new puppies,” Brigitta cried.

“We haven’t been gone very long, and we helped Father before we left,” Jacob said.

“Did you bring us sweets?”

“Come inside with me. No, Brigitta, I don’t have sweets. I have some news for you.”

Very little light entered the wattle-and-daub structure, as there were few windows and it was a cloudy, gray day. Avelina was able to make out her father’s still form sitting in his chair, which his friend, a carpenter, had made for him.

“Avelina.” Her father squinted up at her. “Why aren’t you at the castle?” Long pieces of hemp lay in his lap. He had obviously been braiding them into rope. Good. He was at least finding something to do. He was much less morose when his hands were busy.

Avelina knelt in front of him on the dirt floor, and he placed his massive hand on her head.

“Father, I have to go away for two weeks, perhaps three, but then I will return. Do you think you and Jacob and Brigitta will be able to manage while I’m gone?”

“Why are you going away?” Brigitta asked in a shrill voice. The little girl threw herself between Avelina and their father.

Father was staring hard at her, waiting for her to answer Brigitta’s question.