Page 66 of The Noble Servant

Magdalen’s stomach twisted. “I only do as I’m told, my lord.”

“Ja.”

She resisted the urge to look up at him as he stood near, but she imagined his small, dark eyes squinting down at her, his enormous forehead wrinkling, the tufts of steel-gray hair puffing out on either side of his head.

“You were with Lady Magdalen when she arrived at Wolfberg, were you not? I believe the lady said she was displeased with you. She had you sent out to tend the geese.”

Magdalen’s hands began to sweat as a trembling started inher legs. If only she could trust this man who had discerned the truth about who she was. But of course she couldn’t. He was evil, and at the very least, he would have Agnes put to death.

“And Lady Magdalen said your name was Agnes, but the other servants say your name is Maggie. Do you not think that is ... strange?”

He didn’t seem to expect an answer as he moved away from her. She peeked up through her lashes. He stopped at the water pitcher and poured himself a cup of water and drank it.

She was only pretending to sew now, as her hands were shaking so badly she could not make a stitch.

“I asked Lady Magdalen all these questions, and she strenuously protested my insinuations. I was hoping you might tell me the truth.” He lifted the cup to his lips again, all the while keeping his eyes trained on her.

“I do not know what you want me to tell you, my lord.” She managed to hold her voice surprisingly steady. “I am content to sit here and sew for my mistress.”

“Hmm. But one must wonder why you are so content, when you are the real Lady Magdalen.”

Magdalen allowed herself the nervous laugh that bubbled up. “Forgive me for laughing, my lord, but that is an amusing thing for you to say.”

“And why is it so amusing to you?”

“Well, the Duke of Wolfberg should know if she is Lady Magdalen or not, because he met her and danced with her at Thornbeck Castle less than two years ago.”

She refused to look up at him, keeping her gaze on the bundle in her lap. But he stayed silent so long, she finally took a peek. He was glaring at her.

“What do you know of that party at Thornbeck Castle?”

“Very little, my lord. Lady Magdalen took her childhood dry nurse Hegatha with her. I only know what she told us servants.”

“No one makes a fool of me. I shall uncover the truth.” His voice was raspy. “I shall not be bested, by you or that empty-headed imposter who calls herself Lady Magdalen.” Lord Hazen strode from the room.

At least he didn’t seem suspicious of Steffan. But it was just a matter of time before he figured out everything. The shrewd man must have a spy among the servants.

A few minutes later, Agnes entered the room with a smile on her face. She barely glanced at Magdalen before she sank onto a chair with a low squeal.

“You seem very pleased today.” Should she tell Agnes what Lord Hazen had said? It seemed cruel to ruin her good mood.

“I hope you fall in love someday,” Agnes said on a blissful sigh. “Then perhaps you will know how wonderful it feels.”

Magdalen looked down to keep from rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Instead, she concentrated on one of the letters she had written. She imagined Lord Thornbeck reading it, his face turning red from anger, and the scowl he often wore. She imagined Steffan being raised to his rightful position of Duke of Wolfberg, and his cowardly cousin and Agnes being thrown in the dungeon.

Yes, Agnes. Perhaps someday I will feel as delighted as you do right now.

But what would happen to Magdalen? She would have her identity back, but she’d also have to go back home to Mallin with her mother, who never said a kind word. At least she and Lenhart would be safe, and she would be with her sisters and her people. She had always wanted to help them prosper, to make sure theyhad enough to eat and warm clothes to wear. Perhaps ... perhaps a way to provide for them would present itself. Perhaps she would marry a kindly, rich old man who would help her people prosper. But for her to find true love? Highly unlikely.

She imagined Steffan smiling, sitting in the place of honor on the dais in the Great Hall of Wolfberg Castle, welcoming his young, noble wife, whoever she might be. Yes, Steffan would fall in love.

Her heart twisted inside her.God, am I so unworthy? Am I destined to see everyone else content, everyone except me?

Someone was coming down the corridor, shoes slapping on the flagstone floor, almost running.

Alexander appeared in the doorway. His face was scrunched in a strange expression, as if he was not sure if he was angry or anguished.

“Darling, is something wrong?” Agnes stood and took a step toward her husband.