The Princess Spy (8 page)

But was it her fault that Frau Lena thought it best she not visit the Englishman anymore? If Lord Claybrook had been there, she might have watched him to try to find out if what Colin said about him was true. But Claybrook had taken some of his men and gone with her father.

Margaretha kicked a weed. She stopped to pull it out of the ground, absently shredding the leaves one by one and continuing on to the stable. She would go and visit him again even if Frau Lena didn’t approve. She would also brave his displeasure at her not having been able to talk to her father yet, just as soon as she’d taken her ride.

A stable boy walked past her carrying water and dumped it into the trough for the horses. He must be new, since she didn’t recognize him. His hair was thick and dark and curled at his ears and neck, and he was tall.

If he was new . . . A smile spread over her face. He wouldn’t know that she was not allowed to ride the black stallion Lord Claybrook had given her father.

The new stable boy seemed to be muttering to himself as he emptied the bucket in the trough, then went to the well to refill it. Margaretha went into the stable, undetected, and found the black stallion in his stall. He allowed her to stroke his neck, and when she offered him a carrot, he took it carefully from her palm.

The new stable boy returned to empty another bucket into the trough. There was something appealing about the confident way he held his head and shoulders. He was almost regal. Perhaps she could find a sweet kitchen maid who would be a good match for him. If only he would look up and let her see his face. But he dumped his water and went back to the well for more.

The stable master, Dieter, was coming toward her, talking with another of the servants. Margaretha slipped quietly into her own mare Blüte’s stall, rubbing the gray horse’s cheek and giving her the last carrot in her pocket to keep her quiet until Dieter and the other stable boy had passed through to the other side of the stable.

Through the open doorway she heard the new stable boy coming back, so she slipped out again, closing Blüte’s stall door quietly, and hurried out to stop him. He poured out the last of the water and set his bucket on the ground.

“Stable boy, I need you to saddle a horse for me.”

The boy froze, then turned on his heel to face her. His flashing blue eyes were unmistakable as they pierced her through.

“Colin!
Es ist-du!
”

Spirits above, but he did look good. He was shaved, his cuts and bruises were almost healed, and she could see by the way he filled out his brown woolen tunic that he had already gained some weight. She switched to speaking in English, which she had recently refreshed by looking at the texts her English tutor had left her.

“You don’t look at all pitiable anymore.”

He raised one black eyebrow, the side of his mouth twisting downward. “Thank you. A man always prefers not to look pitiable, if possible.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insulting. I only meant that you look . . . good.” It would require a special kitchen maid indeed to be a match for him now.

“Are you healed? And what are you doing working in the stables? Did Frau Lena say you were well enough?” She felt her face turn red. What must he think of her? After she had completely ignored his pleas to come back and visit him, after she had deserted him for three days, he must hate her. And worst of all, he must realize that she had not fulfilled her promise to speak to her father on his behalf.

She fidgeted with her sleeves, shifting from one foot to the other, waiting for him to reproach her.

He started toward her, then walked past, entering the stable and heading for the room where the horses’ saddles and tack were kept. “I was assigned to work in the stables only yesterday because I refused to leave Hagenheim until I had spoken to Duke Wilhelm.”

Was his mind healed? It seemed to be so at the moment.

“I know you must be angry with me for not speaking to the duke as you asked me to. Truly, after the first couple of days, when you were too weak to talk to him yourself, I had no chance to speak to him. He was called away on urgent business. Lord Claybrook has been away as well.” She cringed as she said the name that had elicited such an extreme reaction from him before. But he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he leaned down and lifted a sidesaddle from its place near the wall.

“I am not angry about that.”

His voice sounded deep and strong, not at all weak anymore. Staring at his back, she felt a little shiver race across her shoulders.

He faced her, the heavy saddle in his grip. “Which horse would you like me to saddle?”

“Oh. Yes.” She turned and pointed to the new black stallion’s stall. “That one.”

He looked at the horse, then fastened his dark blue eyes back on her. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I want to ride that horse, the black one with the white patch on his forehead.”

He didn’t move. “I do not believe you should be riding that horse. Is he the one your father told you not to ride because he was dangerous?”

“Oh, he isn’t dangerous with me.” Margaretha motioned carelessly with her hand. “He likes me and is always gentle with me. It is nothing to you which horse I ride, although I do appreciate your concern for my safety.” She smiled to soften her words, but she was the duke’s daughter and was not used to the servants speaking to her in such a manner. Perhaps her sitting by his bed when he was so ill and ministering to his wounds had caused this young man to assume a familiarity with her that was not proper.

He snorted, then rolled his eyes toward the ceiling of the stable — actually rolled his eyes at her! — and started toward the stallion. She, Margaretha, was speechless.

He stopped when he got to the stall door. She might have hurried forward to open the door if it had been one of the other stable boys, the ones who treated her with respect and deference, but not this churlish man, who dared to snort and roll his eyes! She let him struggle with the heavy saddle, holding it with one hand and half propping it on his knee while opening the stall door with his other hand.

He lifted the saddle onto the horse’s back. The stallion snuffled angrily and turned his bared teeth toward Colin and tried to nip his shoulder. Colin muttered under his breath, then led the huge black horse out into the sun to finish strapping on the saddle.

Putting on a saddle usually only took a few minutes, but the way he was fumbling around, it might take him all morning. Just when she thought he was getting along better, the saddle slid all the way off and onto the ground.

“Have you ever worked in a stable before?” She might as well talk to him. Perhaps it would cover up his embarrassment at being so unskilled at his job.

He turned to face her with raised brows and a frown. “I am the son of a wealthy landed lord in England.” He picked up the saddle and put it back on again. “Saddling horses and shoveling manure were not among my activities. But I might as well be a penniless beggar here. I have no choice if I want to stay here and stop a murderer from accomplishing whatever plan he is scheming.”

The son of a wealthy landed lord? Was he telling the truth? His mind certainly seemed healed, and he looked well physically. She must at least believe in the possibility.

“You still don’t believe me, do you?”

“I must admit, it does appear someone tried to kill you, or at least attacked you. Also, you must be telling the truth about being from England. You could not speak English so well if you were not. But you are hardly older than I am — ”

“I am twenty years old.”

“Precisely, and it seems a bit unlikely to think that a wealthy lord’s son would come all the way here after uncovering some sort of plot by Lord Claybrook, of all people. Lord Claybrook simply seems too timid to plot murder. The man hardly — ”

“Which is the exact kind of man who plots murders — a cowardly, seemingly timid person who is so deceptive, no one suspects him.” Colin’s eyes flashed, his whole body tense as he gripped the horse’s reins and slapped his own leg with the horse’s riding crop.

Just then, the black stallion turned his head and nipped Colin’s arm. Too late, Colin jumped out of reach.

“Did he draw blood?” Margaretha stepped forward to look at his arm, but he pulled away from her.

“It’s nothing.” He rubbed his arm, the lids hanging heavy over his eyes.

“I must say, Colin, that look on your face seems far more dangerous than any I’ve ever seen on Lord Claybrook’s.”

Colin turned back to test the horse’s saddle, making sure it was secure. “Time will reveal who is telling the truth, who is dangerous, and who is trying to protect you.”

“The anger and resentment in your voice makes me sad. But I daresay you are right.” Margaretha rubbed the side of the stallion’s head to distract and calm him.

He kept his back to her as he dodged another attempt by the stallion to bite him.

“I like the name Colin. It suits you.”

“I would prefer you not allow anyone to hear you call me that. My life, and yours as well, would be in danger if Claybrook knew I was here.”

“Lord Claybrook is away with my father.”

“But he will return.” He spun around to face her. “Do you know when they will return?”

“No, but Mother said she thought Lord Claybrook might return before Father. He could come back tomorrow.”

Colin straightened and his eyes widened. “Does he have a guard named Reginald?”

“Yes, Reginald is the captain of Lord Claybrook’s guard.” The fact that he knew Claybrook’s captain’s name sent a chill through her.

“I need you, once Claybrook returns, to spy on him and Reginald.”

“Spy? Me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, I don’t think I would be good at spying on anyone.”

He gave her a hard look.

“I don’t know if I could spy on Lord Claybrook and the captain of his guard. How would I even do that? I’ve never deceived anyone.” She stopped and drew in a quick breath. “No, that isn’t entirely true. I am very good at matchmaking between our servants, and when I am matchmaking, I do temporarily neglect to tell them something, sometimes, in order to — ”

“All I ask is that you listen to his conversations with his captain without him knowing it, and to tell no one except me what he says.”

“You want me to purposely and secretly listen to a conversation and then tell you — and no one else — what they said.”

“Exactly.”

“What if I make a mess of it? What if I’m found out?”

He gazed across the distant meadow, beyond the town wall. “Yes. Perhaps you are right. It would be too dangerous for you.” He turned away so she couldn’t read his expression.

“I didn’t say it was too dangerous.” She suspected he was only baiting her, but she suddenly didn’t want him to think she couldn’t do it. “I’m sure I could spy for you. But I still think you must be wrong about Lord Claybrook. He would never hurt me.”

He turned to stare at her again with those intense blue eyes of his. “He killed my sister’s friend, and she was every bit as young and innocent-looking as you. Although in her case, looks were deceiving.” A grimace of pain flitted over his face. He cleared his throat. “No, I don’t want you to do it. I would never forgive myself if he hurt you. I am sorry I mentioned it. Let us not speak of it.” His voice was quiet and resigned.

He seemed sincerely concerned for her. But before she could respond, he went inside the black stallion’s stall.

Colin took the horse’s reins and began to lead him out of the stable. “Are you sure you want to ride this horse?”

She still wanted to pursue the matter of spying on Claybrook and his captain, but she didn’t want to waste the opportunity to ride the new stallion. “Of course. He is completely gentle with me.”

Colin looked doubtful. “I hope I don’t get into trouble for saddling this horse for you.”

“Oh, you won’t get into trouble. I will tell them I forced you to do it.”

He pointed his finger at her. “So I was right. You aren’t supposed to ride this horse.”

“I never said that. I only said you won’t get in trouble. And earlier you said you weren’t angry about me not speaking to my father about you. But you are angry with me.” Her guilty conscience seemed to demand that she extort some sort of rebuke from him. Besides, she was desperate to distract him from the subject of the horse, since she was horribly close to admitting she wasn’t supposed to ride him.

He took the horse’s reins, ducking out of the way of his nipping teeth, and led the animal into the stable yard. “I was angry that you didn’t believe me.” After a pause, he added, “And that you didn’t come back.”

The hurt look on his face, which she only caught a glimpse of as he turned away, sent a stabbing pain through her chest. An angry rebuke would have been preferable.

“I am sorry. I should not have left you alone when you were a foreigner and without a friend to help you.”

“I did have someone,” he said quietly, not looking at her. “The priest speaks English. He came and translated for me and convinced the stable master to allow me to work in the stable in exchange for food and a place to sleep.”

“I am glad.” Margaretha drew closer to him. “I truly am sorry I did not follow through on my promises to you. Will you forgive me?”

He looked down at her, a softer expression on his face. “I forgive you. But I was not only angry with you. I was worried about what Claybrook might do to you. He is a craven weasel, but also cruel and dangerous.”

Examining the serious look on his face, she was convinced again that he at least believed what he was saying. However, she still wasn’t sure if she believed it herself.

He stared at her, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “But he is not here, so we need not be afraid of him now. Are you ready for your ride?”

“Yes.”

He bent and held his hands at knee level to help her mount the horse. She quickly placed her foot in his hands, before he should change his mind about letting her ride the stallion. In a moment she was sitting high in the sidesaddle, higher than she had ever been, since the stallion was so much larger than her mare. Her heart galloped, but she smiled, hoping she looked at ease on the powerful beast. She sat still a moment to let the horse get used to her — and said a little prayer that he wouldn’t throw her. Then she nudged him forward with her knee.