The Captive Maiden (39 page)

The man picked up her limp hand and pressed it gently. Such kindness to a poor, old woman on her deathbed.

“And you are Duke Wilhelm’s son?”

“I am.”

“The secret I have to tell you has cost the lives of more than one person.” Pinnosa spoke haltingly, stopping frequently to draw in another shallow breath. “You must be brave, strong, and highly favored by God to escape the same fate. Are you willing to hear my tale?”

“Aye, frau. Proceed.”

“I was a servant in Duke Baldewin’s castle when his daughter was born. The poor mother died, and His Grace was heartbroken. His wife had been exceedingly fair — her skin, pure and
perfect as new-fallen snow; her eyes, the bluest blue; and her hair, black as ebony and silky as a waterfall. The baby girl was the very image of her.”

Pinnosa closed her eyes to rest for a moment. Her strength seemed to be ebbing away with every word she spoke. She must impart only the most pertinent information. After managing to take in a little air, she opened her eyes and continued.

“The duke remarried. His new wife was beautiful, but heartless and cold. I believe she killed the duke.”

Shock flickered over the young lord’s face. He was sheltered and seemed inexperienced, but at least the surprise was quickly replaced by anger.
Stoke that fire inside him, that sense of outraged justice I see in his eyes.

“People would tell me I shouldn’t say such things. But I am old. It doesn’t matter what happens to me if I can save Sophie.”

“Did you walk all the way from Hohendorf?”

Pinnosa tried to laugh, but all she could manage was a wheeze. “You can look at my feet and legs if you don’t believe me.” They were swollen to twice their normal size. “I would walk much farther for Sophie.”

The only way she’d been able to get away without raising the duchess’s suspicions was by faking her own death. She’d taken a bit of one of the duchess’s sleeping potions, which slowed her heart and breathing until people thought she was dead. She had bribed the mute son of a farmer to dig her back up after dark. It had been risky and terrifying to be buried alive beneath the cold earth, but if Pinnosa had left the castle any other way, the duchess would have sent her men after her to kill her. Duchess Ermengard was too powerful, too clever. Pinnosa was one of only two people still alive who knew that Duchess Ermengard had faked the death of her stepdaughter. The duchess had long ago killed everyone else who could have revealed this secret.

“Who is Sophie?” the young lord asked.

“Sophie is a servant in Duchess Ermengard’s service. A scullery maid. But the truth is she is the duke’s daughter.” Pinnosa managed to squeeze his hand. “I saw in a dream that the duchess will kill her soon if someone doesn’t intercede. Please … save her. If you don’t hurry, Duchess Ermengard will destroy her. She delights in tormenting her. Sophie … so kind and gentle … may God … watch … over her.”

It was done. Now she could sleep.

Chapter
2

The moment the woman stopped talking, her
hand went limp in his. Gabe waited as Frau Lena examined her. After a few minutes, Frau Lena shook her head.

“Her heart has stopped. She’s gone.”

A chill passed over Gabe’s shoulders and he shuddered. What if it were true? A beautiful girl, born to be a duchess but being used as a scullery maid, tormented by her own stepmother. How would he feel if such a thing happened to one of his sisters? His chest tightened at the cruel injustice.

He couldn’t stop staring at the old woman’s body, trying to divine the truth from her features. But what reason did she have to lie? Someone had to at least investigate the old woman’s claims and attempt to help this Sophie.

Valten should save her. His brother Valten was the warrior, always excelling in tourneys, in jousting and sword fighting with the best knights of the Holy Roman Empire and beyond. But right now, Valten couldn’t even walk without help.

“Gabe.” His father touched his shoulder, pulling his gaze away from the face of the dead woman. “Come. We must discuss this with Valten.”

Gabe followed his father through the castle corridor to Valten’s chamber. What would his brother think of this woman’s
claim? Would he believe it? And who would their father send to uncover the truth in Hohendorf?

Gabe should go. His father had too many concerns and duties at home to go cantering off on a wild chase after a kitchen maid who may or may not be a dead duke’s daughter. And Gabe couldn’t imagine his father sending one of the knights out to handle something so intimately connected to their family.

He also had to admit that the thought of saving this girl himself was strangely appealing. No one thought of Gabe as a warrior. He was a rambler, a fun-loving friend, but certainly not a knight. He had never cared for fighting or jousting and left the tournaments to his older brother and his father’s knights. As the second son, Gabe
should
have trained as a knight or applied himself to a trade such as a master mason or even joined the church. But none of those things appealed to him—a life of chastity least of all. He preferred roaming the countryside with his friends, sometimes drinking too much and doing other activities he was glad his parents knew nothing of. His few skills included flirting with fair maidens, playing the lute, and archery. In fact, archery was the only war sport in which he could best Valten.

If Gabe rescued his brother’s betrothed while Valten lay helpless in bed with a broken leg, it would be perfectly ironic. Valten traveled the world entering tournaments and winning glory and gold. But Gabe could do one better — rescue a girl from a terrible fate, thwart an evil ruler, and complete a quest that should have been Valten’s.

Perhaps Gabe wasn’t as tall or as muscular as his brother, had not the sheer girth or physical power his brother possessed. But here was his opportunity to impress his parents, his brother, and even Brittola, the girl he was expected to marry.

Gabe followed close behind as his father entered Valten’s bedchamber. The heir to the duchy of Hagenheim was propped up by pillows and reading a book.

“Thank God you’ve come.” Valten closed the tome with a loud snap. “I was about to come out of my skin from boredom.”

Valten was indeed pitiable in his forced confinement to his room. With all his purpose and energy and strength, the passivity of healing didn’t fit him very well.

Gabe hung back as his father approached Valten’s bed and began relating the story of the old woman who had just died in the healer’s chambers and the tale she had told. Gabe watched closely as astonishment and something akin to disbelief clouded his brother’s eyes.

Several moments passed while they waited for Valten to absorb the information. He seemed to be concentrating on the cover of the book in his lap, his eyebrows scrunched. Gabe had the strangest feeling that his future depended on what his brother would say.

When he finally spoke, Valten’s voice was low. “Probably just an old woman’s senile ramblings.” He glanced up and met his father’s eyes. “But we must find out.”

Duchess Ermengard stared into her mirror. During the past year, tiny lines had appeared around her eyes. The white powder hid them. Mostly.

Sophie had no wrinkles or even a blemish. Ermengard’s lip curled as she thought about the girl’s pale, perfect skin and the natural red of her lips, her thick black eyelashes and brows. The way Lorencz the huntsman’s eyes lingered on the girl made Ermengard’s blood boil. Did he think the little chit was fairer than Ermengard? While two days in the dungeon should take some of that rosy glow out of the girl’s cheeks, the duchess had started to question if she should keep that wretched child around. Ermengard enjoyed forcing her to work as a scullery maid, making her do her bidding. Inwardly she gloated over Duke Baldewin and
imagined his pain; if he only knew what his only
beloved
daughter was suffering. But watching her capture the attention of Lorencz … it was time to get rid of either her or Lorencz — or both.

She gazed into the mirror, studying her face more closely. Was her skin starting to sag beneath her chin? Perhaps if she cut off a fold of skin just below her jawline it would be tighter when it grew back together. She couldn’t abide sagging jowls. She wouldn’t allow them.

A knock sounded at the door. “Come in.”

Lorencz entered and bowed low. She extended her hand and he kissed it, lingering long enough to make her smirk at him.
You’d
better
endear yourself to me …

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yes. I need you to do something.”

“Anything, Your Grace.”

Perhaps she should insist he call her something besides “Your Grace.” That sounded too formal. Her husband had called Sophie “my precious,” never noticing the seething rage it caused in her, his wife. He never called Ermengard sweet endearments like that. She could order Lorencz to call her that … No. He wouldn’t mean it.

What did everyone see in Sophie? It seemed as though her fellow servants couldn’t do enough for her. They all flocked to her, wanting to help her. It was sickening.

“I want you to kill someone for me.”

Lorencz did not look away from her direct gaze, a quality she admired in a man. “Did someone try to run away again? One of the servants?”

“No.” But if they had, the penalty was death. The duchess couldn’t afford to have anyone leaking her secrets. If the king knew of the people she had killed or of Sophie or of what had become of Duke Baldewin … “I have just sent the scullery maid, Sophie, to the dungeon. I want you to gain her trust. Then,
when she gets out, I want you to take her somewhere in the woods and kill her.”

There, the look on his face … was that disgust? Or merely distaste? Her huntsman wasn’t going soft on her, was he?

“Take her some food or some wine, maybe. I want you to kill her without a struggle, without anyone knowing. No screams. I want her to simply … disappear.” She allowed a smile, imagining the girl’s pain when Lorencz betrayed her, when he thrust his knife through her heart.

“You will have to bury her afterward. I don’t want anyone finding her body. We’ll say she ran away, and no one will be the wiser.”
And no one will ever know who she truly is.

Unless she was mistaken, Lorencz had turned a shade paler. “It shall be done as you say, Duchess Ermengard.”

“Do not fail me. Now go.”

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