Page 22 of The Noble Servant

“Not at all.” She shook her head, suppressing a smile. “It’s only that I don’t know much about sheep, but you seem to think them very timid creatures.”

“They are timid. It’s the geese you must watch out for. They are evil birds, bent on mayhem and cruelty.”

“They only wish to eat and be safe. They’re only birds, after all.”

“How canyousay so with that fresh wound on your forearm?”

“I’d hardly call it a serious injury. The bird was simply frightened of an unfamiliar person.”

He grunted. “You should take care.”

Magdalen studied his profile. He did not appear to be in jest. He seemed to genuinely hate the geese. But why? He seemed to like the sheep and treated them with gentleness.

For the rest of the day they grazed their animals, making sure they stayed separate, and talked occasionally. Near the end of the day, as the sun was getting low, he put away his book.

“Where did you get that book?”

“Oh, this? It was ... in my bag.” He obviously did not want to tell her.

“Well, if you have another in your bag, would you allow me to read it tomorrow?”

“You know how to read?” A suspicious light flickered in his eyes.

“Of course. I mean, I learned ... when I was ... younger.” A servant, especially one as lowly as a goose girl, should not know how to read. But then, neither should a shepherd.

“I see.” He shuttered his eyes, half closing them and turning away slightly. “I shall bring you something to read tomorrow.”

“Thank you. Do you happen to have paper and ink as well?”

He turned back toward her. “I do.”

“Would you bring me some?”

“In exchange ...”

“Exchange for what?”

“For you telling me your name.”

“Very well. Tomorrow when you bring the paper and ink, I will tell you my name.”

Chapter Nine

As Steffan herded his sheep up the hill beside the comely servant girl and her easy smile, he was convinced this goose girl was Lady Magdalen of Mallin. But until he had proof in his possession of his own identity, he did not want to confide in her. She might think he had sent her the letter proposing marriage. But she was only a poor baron’s daughter, and his grandmother had warned him not to marry beneath his station. Dukes did not marry for love. Marrying for love was foolish, and it led to heartbreak and sorrow.

Besides that, with his region’s wealth and his title, he could expect to marry very well indeed.

His parents had married for love, and when his mother died suddenly, his father had been so heartbroken, he stopped caring about anything or anyone. He followed his wife to the grave less than a year after she died. Steffan had vowed never to fall in love like that, never to care so much for someone that he would grieve himself to death. And the only way to ensure that was to marry for practical reasons and not for love.

But why in the world would his uncle ask Lady Magdalen, a poor baron’s daughter, to marry his son, then throw her out towatch the geese and instead marry him to an imposter? None of it made sense.

As they drew nearer the castle, a man was running and looking behind him as he ran. The goose girl noticed him, then hurried toward him. He was twice her size, and he was heading straight for her, his face twisted in a strange expression.

Steffan broke into a run, ready to defend her. But when the man saw her, he stopped.

“Oh, Lenhart!” the goose girl cried. “What has happened to you? You poor thing.”

A line of blood ran down the side of the young man’s face. And on getting a closer look, he seemed less of a man and more an overgrown boy of fifteen years.