Page 17 of The Noble Servant

Katrin laughed. “So would we all.”

Magdalen tried to eat the rest of her food without attracting attention. She had found that one or two of the male servants could be aggressive in the way they asked her to accompany them somewhere in the evenings after their duties had been attended to.

The maidservant on Katrin’s other side started talking to her, and Magdalen focused on finishing her meal. When she was almost done, Katrin turned to her and grabbed her arm.

“Maggie! I almost forgot to tell you. Brigitta says that Frau Clara said that the duke is getting married in a week. We shall have a share of the feast.” Katrin’s eyes were wide and bright.

Magdalen’s stomach sank. Would the duke marry Agnes? Would Magdalen be doomed to tend geese for the rest of her life? And where was the man she had met in Thornbeck, the one who claimed to be the Duke of Wolfberg? Had this shepherd been masquerading as a duke, as Avelina had pretended to be an earl’s daughter?

She stared down at her bowl and its contents. Life had become so confusing ever since she left Mallin. She’d been so glad to get away, to feel as though she was about to live a full life, the life of an adult, away from her mother and her cruel words, which often feltlike a load of bricks falling on her shoulders. But at least she’d had food, her own bed, and her loving sisters in Mallin. There she had been Lady Magdalen, an important person everyone knew.

Now she felt as if the ground had given way beneath her and the world had tipped upside down.

She had to do something. She could not continue taking care of geese and pretending to be an uneducated servant girl. Tomorrow she would not be quite so tired. Tomorrow she would think in the manner of her brave friend Avelina, and Magdalen would come up with a plan of action.

Chapter Seven

Steffan clenched his fists as he neared the door on the back side of the castle. The door was locked, as always. He used the key, quickly opened the door, and put the key back in his pocket.

Time was running out. It was only a few days before Alexander would wed Lady Magdalen. Steffan made his way to the back stairs. He climbed the empty staircase to the third floor, to his own bedchamber. To keep up the farce, would Lord Hazen have given his son the duke’s bedchamber?

Steffan walked straight to his own door and opened it. He stepped inside.

The room was completely dark. He strode to the window. If Alexander was here, Steffan welcomed the confrontation. He could hardly wait to demand Alexander admit to him what he and his father had plotted against him.

He could see by the moonlight coming through the window, but no one was in the chamber. It looked just as it had when he left it. He walked to the trunk against the wall and opened it. Steffan’s clothing and belongings still lay inside. Nothing was out of place and nothing had been added to the room.

If Alexander was not sleeping here, then where was he sleeping?

Steffan left the room and looked up and down the hallway. He kept the hood over his head in case he ran into his uncle or his cousin.

He heard voices and footsteps.

Steffan ducked back into his bedchamber, leaving the door open just a crack.

The voices came closer. One was his cousin Alexander, he was sure of it. The other was a woman. They must have stopped before passing Steffan’s hiding place. He could not make out what they were saying.

A third set of footsteps approached. “Ah, the two lovers await their forthcoming wedding,” a voice boomed. His uncle, Lord Hazen. He’d know that loud, obnoxious voice anywhere.

“Father, don’t embarrass Lady Magdalen.”

Lady Magdalen. How could she be fooled into thinking his chicken-hearted cousin was him?

Lord Hazen blustered on. “I’m not embarrassing her. She is as ready to have the vows said as you are. Look at her grin!”

Did Lady Magdalen believe Alexander was the duke? Perhaps she was too afraid to try to escape him and Lord Hazen.

Steffan took the chance of opening the door a bit more and putting his head out so he could see.

The three of them were in the corridor several yards away, standing in front of a bedchamber door. He would wait until Alexander and his father were gone and then Steffan would slip into her room and assure her that she did not have to marry his cousin. He’d sneak her out of the castle and take her to safety, and then he’d figure a way to save both of them.

Soon Lord Hazen’s voice tapered off. Steffan stuck his head out again and—Lady Magdalen was kissing Alexander!

His stomach roiled. What madness was this?

He had not thought she could be so easily duped by Alexander. How could she kiss such a whey-faced, long-necked, fox-nosed man like him?

He found himself disliking the girl. Even though he had not intended to marry Lady Magdalen—his uncle had no doubt forged his name and sealed the proposal letter with his signet ring—Steffan had found her interesting and lovely when they talked together at Lord Thornbeck’s ball. They had read a lot of the same books, and she had a kind, compassionate manner. Indeed, he’d spent most of the ball at Thornbeck talking with her.