Page 95 of The Noble Servant

Magdalen crossed her arms and eyed Agnes across the room. She obviously was doubtful of his assessment of his wife’s situation.

“Nevertheless, I fell in love with her. I told her the truth about who I was, and she told me the truth as well. I can’t bear to think of my father trying to separate us.” He put his arm around the girl’s shoulders and drew her to his side.

“Changed by love.” Steffan’s voice conveyed ridicule, and he cringed at his own bitterness.

“Anyway, we brought you some food.” Alexander held out a cloth bundle. “I understand why you would not trust us, but if there is anything else we can do for you ... We want to prove that we are sincere.”

Steffan felt the scowl fading from his face. But when he pictured himself walking toward Alexander and accepting the food from his hands, he also pictured his cousin shoving a knife between his ribs.

“You can put the food down there.” Steffan pointed to the floor.

Alexander bent and placed the cloth bundle on the floor and the loaf of bread on top.

“Will you forgive me, Magdalen?” Agnes asked from across the room.

Magdalen was quiet, then said, “I do forgive you, Agnes, and I forgive your father, even though he’s not sorry.”

“Do you forgive me, Steffan?” Alexander held his gaze.

He didn’t want Magdalen to think less of him. She was so generous herself. “Ja, I forgive you, Alexander.” And then he felt a warmth inside and realized he really did forgive him. What else could he do? Christians were forgiven and therefore must forgive.But the feeling flowing through him could not be from himself. He’d been angry with his cousin for too long.

But Steffan did not intend to let his uncle get away with what he had done, killing Jacob, and many others, no doubt. Hazen had not repented, and neither had Agnes’s father. They deserved punishment, and Jacob deserved justice.

“Thank you.” Alexander looked genuinely relieved and even smiled. “We will leave you now.”

“Alexander.”

His cousin turned to glance back at him.

“Does your father know we are here?”

He shook his head. “He knows you left Mallin and came this way, but he thinks you are hiding in the woods nearby. But you should be careful.”

Steffan nodded.

The two of them backed out the door and were gone.

Magdalen shut the window, then latched it closed. “Oh, Steffan, I’m so sorry.” She burst into tears, bowing her head and covering her face with her hands.

He crossed the room, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her to his chest. “Why are you sorry? What heinous crime have you committed?” He said it playfully, hoping to stop her tears.

“It is my fault they found us. I was the one laughing. How could I be so careless?” She sniffed, her cheek pressed against his chest.

“Don’t worry. If Alexander and Agnes are telling the truth, they will not tell Lord Hazen.”

“Do you think they could be lying?” She lifted her head, her eyes shiny with tears and wide with fear. He wanted to protect her so much it made his chest ache.

“It is possible.” Then he said, more softly, “It is hard for me to trust my cousin. I’m not even sure I should, but if they wanted to betray us, why would they bring us food and ask for forgiveness? It doesn’t make sense.”

She pressed her cheek against his linen shirt and patted his shoulder. “I know.”

She was trying to comforthim. Again, his chest squeezed painfully. She was so tenderhearted. He did not deserve her. But he very much wanted to.

“All we can do now is wait on God to save us.

“And search for my portrait.”

Chapter Thirty-Three