The Huntress of Thornbeck Forest (18 page)

“Do you think so?”

“I do. But, Kathryn, no matter what happens, you should not ever go back to The Red House or to that woman, Agnes. Anyone who asks you to do what she did is not a good person. Please. You must stay away from her and not feel any loyalty to her.”

“But . . . I do feel loyalty to her.” Kathryn’s chin quivered and tears flooded her eyes again. “Maybe I should not, but I do. She took us in off the street and even took care of my littlest brother when he was sick, when no one else offered to help us.”

“Those were all good things, but if she did them only to trap you into working for her, then she does not deserve your loyalty, Kathryn. Truly, you should believe me.”

Two tears tracked down the girl’s pale cheeks. “It does not matter about me. My brothers are the ones who matter. They are innocent, but I have done bad things, things you cannot imagine. What if I am not worth all this trouble? What if I was born bad and will always be bad? I should just do what Agnes wants me to.”

“You must know that is not true.” How could anyone think
that way? “You are still practically a child. You should not be made to work—”

“I am not a child.” Kathryn turned blazing eyes on Odette.

“No, no, you are very mature. But what I am trying to tell you is that you could have a good life. You do not have to throw yourself away at The Red House. Your life could be better than that. Don’t you feel a hope inside you for something better?”

It had been that hope for something better that had kept Odette from sinking into the same despair Kathryn obviously was feeling. Odette had believed that someday she would feel power over her circumstances. She would be able to get away from the people who had taken her in but did not care about her. There would come a time when she could take care of herself and would no longer have to forage for food in people’s trash heaps—or depend on people who mistreated her—to survive.

If Odette had felt more grateful to the people who had taken her in, perhaps she would understand how Kathryn was feeling about Agnes. But she had only wanted to get away from them and their mistreatment.

“You want to show your gratitude for what Agnes did for your brothers, but this is not the way to do that. Someday, when you are able to, you can give Agnes money, if you feel you need to repay her.”

Kathryn was not looking at her. She was fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “Why did Jorgen ask you to come and talk to me?”

“He was afraid you would leave, and . . . I suppose because I know a lot of orphans. I teach lessons two days every week outside the city gate to any child who wants to come.”

She glanced up at Odette. “Do you teach them to read?”

“I do.”

“I have always wanted to learn to read.”

“If you stay here with Jorgen’s mother, you can learn. It would be my pleasure to teach you.”

“I will still need to make sure my brothers are well.” She sank back into the chair and sighed. “But I think I might stay.”

Jorgen and his mother came in carrying a pitcher and some pottery cups. The way Kathryn looked at him, with adoration and attentiveness, made Odette feel uneasy again. Was she afraid Jorgen might take advantage of the girl? No, that wasn’t it. Was she afraid he might fall in love with her and marry her? Perhaps, a little. Or did she suspect the girl would try to put to use what she had learned in her two days at The Red House in order to seduce Jorgen?

The heat in her cheeks and the roiling of her stomach told her—that was it.

Jorgen glanced at Odette, at the expression on her face as she sat with Kathryn, and he knew what he had to do.

As his mother poured the milk for them, Jorgen motioned to Odette. “Can I speak with you?”

Odette stood and allowed him to open the door for her as they walked outside.

Jorgen rubbed the back of his neck before facing Odette. “Do you know somewhere Kathryn could stay?” How could he explain his reasoning? “I could not allow her to stay in that terrible place, but our house is small, and I think it is uncomfortable for her . . . and for me.”

“Uncomfortable?”

Jorgen looked her in the eye. “I have no wish to be betrothed
to a fourteen-year-old girl, and therefore I do not think it’s a good idea to have her in my house. One of us needs to go.” Desperation resonated in his voice. “It is not that I am afraid of what might happen. It’s more that I am afraid of what people will think, and what Kathryn might begin to think.”

Odette smiled slowly. “Jorgen, you are almost too good to be true.” She covered her mouth, as if stifling a laugh.

“I do not know what you mean. This is not a humorous situation.”

She shook her head. “I mean that you are very sweet.” She cocked her head to the side in a most fetching way. “I think.”

“Now what does that mean?”

“I wonder whose reputation you are trying to protect.” Now there was a shrewd glint in her eye.

“Hers and mine!” He lowered his voice. “Both.”

She stared into his eyes, shaking her head. He wanted to ask her what she was thinking, but he decided to just enjoy the soft, sweet look on her face. She probably wouldn’t tell him anyway—or if she did tell him, he would not understand.

“So,” he prompted, “do you know of somewhere? Perhaps she could stay with you.”

Her brows went up, but they came back down and she bit her lip. “No, I do not think that would work.”

He didn’t see why not. Rutger’s house was three times bigger than the cottage he shared with his mother.

“I don’t think Rutger . . . That is, I would have to ask him first. He is unmarried, too, you know.”

He sighed. “I had not thought of that.”

“But he might know of some place. He knows nearly everyone in Thornbeck.”

“Could you ask him today?”

“Yes, and she can come home with me now. I can take her to meet Anna—perhaps she could stay with Anna and help with the children! I will ask her, and we can talk until it is time for me to teach my lesson to the children this afternoon.”

“Thank you, Odette.” He clasped her hand in his but then realized he probably shouldn’t have, as his heart did the strange stuttering it did every time he touched her or got too close.

She squeezed back. “Thank you for saving her. I hate to think what would have happened to her if you had not.”

Yes, and he hated to think what would happen if he ever asked to marry Odette. He was growing fonder of her by the day.

Later that day, Odette left Kathryn at Anna’s house, where she was playing with Anna’s two-year-old, Cristen. It was around the time Rutger usually came home, and Odette caught up with him on the steps between the first and second floor.

“May I ask you something?”

“Of course, my dear.” Rutger stood halfway up, looking down at her.

“It is a bit of a long tale.” She laughed nervously. “Jorgen rescued a girl from The Red House and took her to his home where she would be safe.”

Rutger’s mouth went slack and his eyes opened wider. “What do you mean he rescued a girl from The Red House?”

She nearly laughed at his reaction, as it was so similar to her own. “She was working there—a fourteen-year-old orphan girl. But Jorgen asked her if she wanted to leave. He helped her escape.”

Rutger’s face tensed. “What was Jorgen doing at The Red House?” His voice was raspy.

“It is not what you would think. He was trying to find out about a black market of poached meat.”

Rutger rubbed his chin with his hand.

“But that is not what I wanted to tell you. Do you know of any place where this girl—her name is Kathryn—might be able to stay? It is rather uncomfortable for Jorgen to have her staying at his home, and I thought perhaps she might stay with us.”

Again Rutger’s mouth went slack. “You know why she cannot. Surely you do not want her finding out your secret. She could turn you in to that forester, who would give you over to the margrave. They would think
you
were supplying meat to this black market.”

Odette wondered again who, besides her, could be poaching the deer in Thornbeck Forest. And Rutger was right. If Jorgen ever caught her poaching, he would think she was the one supplying the black market. “You have a lot of influence. Perhaps you could find out who is behind this black market.”

He didn’t look at her. “Perhaps I could. Perhaps I could.”

“As for Kathryn, I will ask Anna if she could stay with her. Of course, she will have to ask Peter, but Kathryn could help them with the children in exchange for food and a place to sleep.”

“If that doesn’t work out, I shall help you find a place for this girl.”

“She is also worried about her two little brothers. Agnes, the woman at The Red House, knows where they are.”

Rutger brushed past her on the narrow steps. “You may leave it to me, Odette. I shall find them and make sure they are being cared for.”

“You will? Oh, thank you! You are the best uncle in all the world.”

Just before she threw her arms around him, she thought she saw him cringe, a tiny flash of pain crossing his face.

When she stepped back, she studied him. “Is something wrong, Uncle Rutger? Are you getting sick?”

“Of course not. I am very well. And I shall find Kathryn’s little brothers. Do not worry.”

Rutger would take care of it. He always took care of everything. He was such a good man.

15

J
ORGEN BOWED TO
the margrave. “Lord Thornbeck.”

“What have you discovered about our poachers and black-market brigands?” The margrave limped his way to his desk as he leaned on his cane. He was a large man, and limping and being forced to use a cane did not rest on him lightly, even after a year. He scowled most of the time, his forehead creased in a way that had made Jorgen sense the margrave was either in constant pain or thinking unpleasant thoughts.

“My lord, I did go to The Red House yesterday to try to find out what I could about the black market, but I am afraid I discovered very little.”

“Do you know who owns it?”

“Possibly a woman named Agnes. She had put a girl to work there, an orphan girl who was only fourteen, and I . . . I helped her escape.”

The margrave stared at him. “Was she able to tell you anything about the black market?”

“No, my lord.”

“And the poacher has not been captured either?”

“I plan to start watching the forest at night.”

“That could be dangerous.”

“Nevertheless, I am determined to capture him. And the black-market sellers as well.”

“I will have my steward look further into The Red House and its owner. He has also been unable to find out much about it. I will have him inquire more about Agnes.” He frowned. “My problem there is that I think my steward is a bit too fond of The Red House. He is well known there and perhaps is not the best person to send. But that is not your worry.” The margrave grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “There is one more thing I wanted to ask. You will come to the big masquerade ball we are having here at the castle?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You must dress elaborately or wear a costume. It is the new fashion, I am told.” His scowl deepened. “I doubt you are any more excited about it than I am. But perhaps you have a girl you wish to come. Tell me her name and I shall be sure she is invited.”