The Huntress of Thornbeck Forest (39 page)

“For the sake of my forester, Jorgen Hartman, I will not punish you beyond the wounds you have already sustained by consequence of your poaching. However, I have one stipulation.” The margrave paused, looking from her to Jorgen and back to her, as if to make sure he had their complete attention. “Since I cannot have a lawless woman running around with only a weak-willed uncle to restrain her . . .”

Again he paused while Odette’s heart beat faster.

“You must marry—immediately.”

“Oh.”

“Mathis Papendorp has informed me that he is planning to marry you. However, I have another suggestion.” He glowered at her from beneath thick black brows.

Odette’s mouth had gone dry. She couldn’t even swallow. What would he say next?

“I suggest you marry Jorgen Hartman. In fact, I strongly suggest it.”

Odette looked at Jorgen. He looked back at her. By his wide eyes and open mouth, he had not expected the margrave to say that any more than she had.

She had heard of men avoiding execution if a woman, any woman, agreed to marry them.

Wait. Had he not said that he would not punish her? She could marry Jorgen and not have to worry about punishment? She didn’t have to marry Mathis!

But what about the children? What about Rutger? Mathis would not use his money to help either one of them if she married
Jorgen. But God had provided for the children without her help for the past six months.

She gazed up at Jorgen, standing just beside her. His chest was rising and falling fast. He licked his lips. Was his mouth as dry as hers?

Jorgen turned to the margrave. “My lord, I do not wish you to force her. I—”

“No, Jorgen, let her decide,” Lord Thornbeck cut him off. “You deserve to have the woman you want to marry.”

Odette’s face went hot. Yes, Jorgen deserved the woman he wanted to marry. But did he still want her? And he also deserved a woman who wanted to marry him. Would he protest to the point that the margrave would become enraged at him? She couldn’t allow that.

“My lord,” she said quickly, “I must first ask a question. Why would you have your forester marry me? Should you not allow him to choose?”

“He has already chosen.” The margrave’s voice was cool and expressionless. “He wishes to marry you. And I wish to grant him his desire—if you are as worthy as he thinks you are.”

Jorgen was still red faced, but he was staring at her with that vulnerable look she could never resist, the look that was melting her heart. “Marry me, Odette.”

Her heart stuttered. She swallowed and pushed back the longing to throw her arms around him. “I do want to marry Jorgen Hartman”—she wrenched her gaze from Jorgen and turned to the margrave—“with all my heart, but I do not accept him to escape punishment or to escape marrying someone I do not love. I accept him because he is the best man I have ever known. He is good and kind and honest. He is exactly the kind of man I would wish to marry. I may not be worthy of him, but I love him.”

She was afraid to look at Jorgen, her insides trembling at the bold words she had just spoken.

“Very well. I see.” Lord Thornbeck cleared his throat. He gave a half smile and picked up some papers off the desk behind him and gazed down at them a moment. “And now I have some other problems to discuss with you both.”

Odette’s stomach fluttered. Other problems? Would he tell her that he had been in jest, that she, a poacher, would not be allowed to marry Jorgen, the best and most noble man in Thornbeck?

“Your uncle, Rutger Menkels, whom I have locked in my dungeon and from whom I have confiscated his property for his crimes . . . I have become aware that he was also wronged. Mathis Papendorp stole a large shipment of his goods.”

What? Mathis had stolen from Rutger?

“Mathis schemed to make him destitute in order to marry you. Although he planned to give Rutger his property back, this is not something I take lightly. I was not amused when I heard this story, and now I plan to free your uncle and force Mathis to give him back twice as much as he stole from him, with interest.”

Rutger would be released! Her shoulders relaxed as she let out a breath. And he wouldn’t be destitute. “I thank you, my lord.”

“I want to know”—he fixed Odette with a severe look—“why you were so determined to help the poor. Is this such a problem in Thornbeck that you, a young woman, would be bent on feeding them?”

She stared at the margrave. “Yes, my lord.” Odette blinked, trying to think how to answer the unexpected question. “There are orphaned children who live in rickety shelters they have built themselves just outside the town wall. They are forced to steal and beg and look through garbage heaps to keep themselves alive. I believe there are at least twenty or thirty of these children, besides
the ones who live on the streets in town. They need our help. They are only children and unable to earn enough money to buy food or provide decent shelter for themselves. It is our Christian duty to help them, for anyone who is able to help them.”

“Odette teaches them to read a few days a week,” Jorgen said when she paused. “She also brings them food and helps them when they are sick.”

The margrave frowned again, his smile gone. “Jorgen has devised a plan whereby the people of Thornbeck might look after the poor orphan children of the town. I believe it is a plan you helped him with.” He glanced at Odette. “It is a feasible plan that might all but eliminate the problem of children stealing bread and other food from the vendors at the market, while the merchants exercise their Christian duty, as you say, to care for the poor widows and orphans. Jorgen has spoken to the Bishop of Thornbeck, and he has offered a certain portion of the church’s assets to this effort.”

Odette’s heart was in her throat as the margrave stared down at the parchment in his hands.

“Jorgen has some donors already secured from among our wealthier citizens. You have done a good job with this proposal.” He raised his brows approvingly at Jorgen. “I do believe that Rutger Menkels’s house, which is not far from the city center, will serve well as a home for orphans. What do you say, Odette?”

“Y-yes, my lord. I believe it would.”

“And as I have acquired Rutger’s storehouse near the north gate, I believe it may serve as a place for young widows to learn to work and earn money while their children are being cared for. What do you think, Jorgen?”

“Yes, my lord, I think you are right.”

The margrave cleared his throat and frowned. “Jorgen may have told you, Odette, that I discovered it was my chancellor, Ulrich,
who had been trying to kill him. It is fortunate he is not as good with a longbow as you are.” Again, he looked pointedly at Odette. “Therefore, I have sent Ulrich to the dungeon and am in need of a new chancellor. Jorgen has shown that he is a man capable of great organization. He is intelligent and hardworking, as well as honest and trustworthy. Welcome to your new position, Jorgen.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Odette sucked in a breath. She reached out and squeezed Jorgen’s hand, smiling up at him.

“Now that you will be my new chancellor, I shall wish to have you living nearer to me. And since I have taken back the chancellor’s property, I would like to bestow upon you the manor house on Red Stag Hill, which you can see from this window.”

“My lord, I am grateful.” Jorgen bowed.

“A new husband and wife need a home. And now I insist you take to wife this lawless young woman as quickly as may be.”

Odette and Jorgen replied, “Thank you, my lord.”

Jorgen looked across at her, a glint in his eye.

How their fortunes had reversed. She had thought his position too far beneath hers a few days ago. Now she was poor, stripped of her home and her security, and Jorgen was the new chancellor of Thornbeck, the owner of a beautiful manor house, and the advisor to the margrave. Just minutes before, marrying Mathis seemed her only choice, and now she found herself being ordered to marry Jorgen. But somehow she didn’t mind.

“Jorgen,” the margrave said, “come back tomorrow when we can discuss your new duties, and think about who you might choose to replace you as forester. In the next few weeks we will have a lot of work to do to implement your plans for the orphanage and workhouse. Odette may also come and give her input, if she wishes. But for now, you both may go.”

Jorgen clasped her hand and they walked out of the margrave’s library. As soon as they were out of sight of the margrave, she turned to him in the dimly lit corridor, slipped her arms around his neck, and before she could close her eyes, he was kissing her.

31

J
ORGEN KISSED HER
like a man dying of thirst and she was the only source of water. He took her breath away. Odette was transported to a place that was above the earth, above the clouds, floating higher and higher.

She was marrying Jorgen Hartman.

When he pulled away, he looked into her eyes, then kissed her again, as if he needed one more sip. But then he needed another, and another, his hands coming up to cradle her face. Soon she was quite dizzy. She held on tighter, choosing not to tell him she needed to sit down until her knees stopped shaking.

He eventually stopped kissing her and pulled her close, her cheek against his shoulder and his arms encircling her. There seemed to be so much to say, so much to take in, so much she could hardly believe. They stood still, their hearts beating close together, not speaking, waiting for their rapid breathing to slow.

As the dizziness subsided, she squeezed him tighter, breathing in the smell of pennyroyal mint coming from his freshly washed shirt, filling her senses with Jorgen. “Thank you for wanting to help the children, and for your plans to start an orphanage and to help the poor.”

He buried his hand in her hair and bent until his forehead touched hers. “I hoped it would please you.”

“It does. Very much.” His nearness, his touch, his smell, and the lingering feeling of his lips on hers all combined to make her heart soar. How was it possible to feel so free when she was about to be married, to belong to someone forever?

“Odette,” he breathed. The masculine rumble of his voice sent a shiver across her shoulders.

“Are you sure you want to marry me?” Odette asked.

He tilted her face up and kissed her again. “Yes.”

Her heart was racing. Might someone be watching them from down the long corridor? The heat in her cheeks intensified and she whispered, “We should go before someone sees us.”

He stared into her eyes before breaking away and helping her walk toward the front door of Thornbeck Castle. As she held on to him and leaned against his side, she couldn’t seem to stop sighing. Or smiling. Or reliving his kisses.

He stopped her halfway down the corridor and kissed her again.

How had she not always known she loved Jorgen Hartman? And how had God worked everything out so she could marry him? After all she had done—poaching the deer that it was his job to protect, deceiving him, and after her uncle had spurned him because he was a forester—to be ordered by the margrave to marry Jorgen seemed the greatest of ironies . . . and miracles.

Jorgen helped Odette down from the horse. She was so focused on him that she was surprised to see Mathis standing just behind Jorgen.

“Odette,” he said quickly, “I know your uncle is in the dungeon, but I assure you I am working to get him out as soon as possible.”

“That is not necessary, Mathis. Lord Thornbeck has already agreed to set him free.”

“Oh. That is very good.” Mathis stepped closer to her, but so did Jorgen, putting himself between them. Mathis glanced up at Jorgen but then kept talking to Odette. “I still want to marry you, no matter what the margrave says or does—”

“The margrave has taken my uncle’s house and will turn it into an orphanage. And he has ordered you to repay Uncle Rutger’s goods that you stole, double, with interest.”

Mathis blanched and clutched at his throat. “But I . . . It was only a joke. I was going to give it back to him.”

“The margrave was not amused.”

Mathis stammered, “I . . . I . . . but I—”

“And the margrave also knows about the little joke you played on Jorgen and me when you tricked him into thinking another woman was me.”