Page 74 of The Beautiful Pretender

“I had no choice. My lord, the Earl of Plimmwald, made me do it.”

“Are you sorry you didn’t run away? Or was it worth it?”

Avelina shrugged. “It was fun while it lasted, but I’ll be punished when I get home. No doubt he has already sent my father and little brother and sister far away and I will never see them again.”

Engel was a young woman about Avelina’s age, with a stout frame and her brown hair in one braid down her back. She eyed Avelina out of the corner of her eye, when she wasn’t looking at the pea pod in her hand.

“But was it worth it to have the margrave fall in love with you?”

Some of the other maidservants turned to look at her, waiting to hear her answer.

Her heart pounded. She must play her part. “He doesn’t care for me now that he knows I’m only a maidservant. He would get rid of me if he could.”

“Why doesn’t he send you away, then?”

More eyes turned to stare.

“He would, but Plimmwald’s guards haven’t come to fetch me yet, and I injured my ankle. Wolf attack.”

“But did Lord Thornbeck not save you from the wolves?”

“He did not know it was me. He heard screams and came to help.” She shrugged.

At least they were not looking at her with hatred or resentment.

“Did you like talking to him? To Lord Thornbeck?” a young maidservant who was kneading bread dough asked.

“Anyone would.”

“Is he just as handsome close up?”

They were all staring at her now, even Cook.

“He is even more handsome close up.”

“Did he kiss you?” This eager question came from another young maidservant.

Avelina shook her head, the heat rising into her cheeks.

“That’s enough,” Cook said. “Get back to your chores before I send you all home.”

They complied, but she noticed a couple of them giving her shy smiles. The plan was working.

When it was time for their midday meal, Avelina was given a place at the table with the other servants, including Gerhaws, who appeared in the kitchen just as the food was being served.

One of the youngest servants brought Avelina a stool so she could prop up her injured foot. “Tell us about the margrave. Was he very chivalrous and romantic?”

So while they ate, Avelina told them stories about her time with the margrave. The things she held closest to her heart—certain things he had said and certain looks—she did not reveal, but she told them endearing stories that illustrated his kindness and bravery—how he gave money to the orphans in the street, and how he had pulled her up as she clung to the broken railing on the balcony. The maidservants hung on her every word.

But it was Gerhaws she needed to get close to. Gerhaws who might know what Geitbart’s next move would be.

Finally, after the meal, Cook said, “Gerhaws, you and Avelina go to the dairy and churn the butter. When you’ve finished, bring it to the kitchen.”

So Avelina found herself alone with Gerhaws in the cool of the stone-walled dairy.

As soon as they sat down to the two butter churns, Gerhaws took a small flask out of a pocket in her apron and brought it to her lips. “It’s very good strong spirits. I can show you where it’s kept if you want some.”

“Thank you. Maybe tonight. I only imbibe strong drink after the sun goes down.” Avelina started working the wooden staff up and down in the tall churn.