The Huntress of Thornbeck Forest (34 page)

A moment later, Rutger entered the bedchamber and Odette felt a prickling on the back of her neck.

27

“I
DID NOT
expect to see you. How did you know I was here? You haven’t been worrying, have you?”

Rutger walked toward Odette’s bed. “I was worried, but Jorgen came last night to tell me you were safe.”

“Oh. That was very kind of him.” Considering how exhausted he must have been—and how much Odette had hurt him.

Rutger did not look pleased. “What happened to you? He said you were injured.”

“I was shot in the arm and the leg, but no bones are broken.”

“Who shot you? Jorgen shot you, didn’t he? Now I suppose you will give up your girlish idea of him.”

“I do wish you would stop insulting me over Jorgen.”

“Mathis told me you accepted his offer of marriage.”

Odette’s stomach did a queasy flip. “I have not married him yet.” She didn’t care if she sounded defiant.

“Do you think Jorgen has told the margrave anything?”

“I don’t know, but he will have to tell him what we have done.”

“He has no proof. I shall speak to the magistrate, the margrave’s bailiff, and the margrave himself. You shall not be punished for this. Who would ever believe that a beautiful, wealthy merchant’s niece could be a poacher? It is preposterous. We shall make
this forester a laughingstock and the butt of jokes. No one will believe him when I am done.”

“No, Rutger . . . I think I must pay for my crime.”

His face hardened into an expression Odette had never seen before. “And you intend for me to pay too?”

“I do not see how we can get away with it now.”

“You are not to tell anyone anything, do you understand?” He pointed his finger at her nose. “Stay silent and do not implicate yourself or anyone else. Just stay silent.” Rutger lowered his finger but continued to give Odette that hard look.

Odette clamped her bottom lip between her teeth to stop it from trembling. Rutger had never spoken to her this way before. She never imagined she would ever feel frightened of him. “I do not intend to tell the margrave anything about your involvement.” She made an effort to breathe more normally and calm her heart. “I will be careful to say that I was the one who poached, and I will refuse to implicate anyone else.”

“It may all turn out well.” Rutger was no longer looking at her but was pacing in a tight line by her bed, tapping his chin with a finger. “After all, you shall be married to the Burgomeister’s son, and Mathis will no doubt have a lot of influence. But the marriage must take place soon. Very soon.”

Her stomach did that sickening flip again.

“My dear”—he turned to face her—“I am so thankful to see that you are not near death. Still, it must be painful for you to walk. I would not be surprised if you hated Jorgen.” He eyed her.

“I do not hate him. He had to shoot me. It was his duty as the forester.”

“I brought some peas,” Frau Hartman called as the back door opened and shut.

Her uncle squeezed her hand. “I am sorry. I must go.” He
turned and ran out of the room, down the corridor, and out the front door, letting it slam behind him.

Frau Hartman stood in the doorway with a basket of peas. “Who was that? Was someone here?”

“It was Rutger.”

“Oh. He did not have to run away like that.”

No doubt he was frightened. Guilt would do that to a person. “I see you have some peas for me.”

While Odette shelled peas, which she had learned how to do as a little girl when she worked for her neighbors—popping the pod, then pushing the little round peas out with her thumb—her mind was left to go over and over the visit from Rutger.

She had felt real fear at the way Rutger had spoken to her. Surely her uncle would not harm her. But what would he do to avoid punishment by the margrave? Would Mathis be able to bribe Lord Thornbeck to spare both her and Rutger? Would her marriage to Mathis save her and her uncle from punishment?

And what about the poor children? They had not starved, even though for six months the food she thought was going to them was actually being sold by Rutger. God
must
have been providing for them. And if she had not decided to go out hunting one last night, thinking she had to provide meat for them one last time, Jorgen would not have shot her.

While Jorgen’s mother was out of the room, she whispered, “God, I know Rutger and I do not deserve it, but would You provide for us too? I want to do the right thing, and I don’t want to be punished for poaching, but I do not want to marry Mathis.”

She couldn’t imagine how God could get her out of it.

Jorgen arrived at Thornbeck Castle in the morning to report to Lord Thornbeck. His hands were cold and sweaty, and he still was not certain what he would tell the margrave.
God, give me wisdom and the words to say
.

Ulrich met him as soon as he was inside the castle and walked him to the margrave’s library. For once, Ulrich smiled and talked about the weather. His friendliness made the hair on Jorgen’s arms rise. What was he scheming?

“Good morning, Jorgen.” The margrave stood and leaned on his cane when Jorgen walked in.

“Good morning, Lord Thornbeck.” If only he could meet with the margrave without his chancellor there. The shrewd look in Ulrich’s eyes made him seem even more suspicious. He would do his best to turn the margrave against him.

“What news do you have for me about the notorious poacher of Thornbeck Forest?”

“My lord, I now know who is responsible for the poaching, as well as the black market.”

“That is excellent, Jorgen.” The margrave’s eyes grew wider and a wisp of a smile crossed his lips. “Excellent work.”

Ulrich looked as if he had just swallowed an eel whole, as his face turned ashy green.

“Who is this poacher? I will send my bailiff at once to capture him and all his helpers and bring him here.”

“My lord, I . . . I can tell you that the poacher will no longer be poaching.”

The margrave’s smile disappeared. “He is dead, then?”

“No, my lord. The poacher is not dead, but the poacher is . . . unable to do any more poaching.”

“You are speaking nonsense, Jorgen. What are you saying?”

As the margrave’s expression grew harder, the chancellor’s eager gaze darted back and forth from the margrave to Jorgen.

“I am saying that I shot and injured the poacher, but I will be trying to find more evidence against the person who is responsible for coercing the poacher into killing the king’s deer.”

“Coercing?” The margrave frowned.

“This is a travesty of justice,” Ulrich announced. “Your forester is defying you, my lord, and refusing to respect your orders. This man should be thrown into the dungeon until he reveals the identity of the poacher.”

“Jorgen,” the margrave growled, “what reason can you give for not telling me who this poacher is?”

A trickle of sweat slid down the center of Jorgen’s back. “My lord, I . . . I can give you no satisfactory answer, except to say that this poacher thought she was doing the right thing, that the deer she was killing were going to feed poor people who were starving.”

“That is no excuse,” Ulrich sputtered. “No excuse for breaking the law and killing the king’s deer.”

The margrave lifted his hand to silence his chancellor. His brows lowered and came together in a crease. “You said ‘she.’ Do you mean that the poacher is . . . a woman?”

“Yes, my lord. She did not know that the meat was being sold in the black market.”

Ulrich let out a snort.

“Jorgen,” the margrave said, “is the poacher someone you know? Someone you want to protect because you have tender feelings for her?”

He bit the inside of his mouth. Finally he said, “Yes, my lord.”

“Am I to believe that you feel more loyalty to this poacher than you do to me?”

The air seemed to thicken as no one made a sound. “No, of course not.” But even he didn’t think he sounded convincing.

“Tell me who is responsible for selling the meat to the black market. You must at least tell me that much, Jorgen, or I shall wonder if you are not telling me the truth at all.”

“I would rather wait until I have more evidence. But whether I can give you the irrefutable evidence or not, I will tell you soon, in the next few days.”

The margrave did not look pleased. His eyelids hung low as he said, “You have two days. I am not a patient man, and I want to know who has been breaking the law. Two days, Jorgen.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Jorgen had managed to avoid her all day, staying busy with his work after meeting with the margrave, taking his midday meal in the castle kitchen with the servants so he wouldn’t have to come home. But when his mother met him at the front door with a worried look on her face, he was seized with fear.

“Did something happen to Odette?”

“She is well, but you need to let her tell you about her uncle’s visit earlier today.”

He forced himself not to run toward his bedchamber.

“I will have supper ready soon,” his mother called after him as he reached the doorway.

Odette sat propped in bed, sewing up a seam in a pair of Jorgen’s hose.

“You should not be doing that.” He closed the distance between them.

She pulled the fabric close to her chest, as if she thought he
might snatch it away. “I need something to do all day while you are out doing your work and your mother is doing hers. Besides, she ran out of peas for me to shell.”

She was so beautiful when she smiled, but now was not the time to tell her so. “Tell me what happened when Rutger came to see you.”

“Yes, of course. But sit first. You look tired. You have been working all day. Please.”

He sat down, his eyes locked on hers. Although his gaze did stray to her lips, if he was honest with himself, and he did think about kissing her. But then he locked on to her eyes again.

She laid the mending in her lap. “Rutger came in the front door after your mother went out to tend the garden and the geese.”

She proceeded to tell him what Rutger had said. “I tried to tell him I didn’t think we could avoid punishment, but to be honest, I was a bit frightened by his response. I’ve never known my uncle to look at me or speak to me that way.”

“He might try to harm you, Odette. He is obviously afraid you will tell the margrave about his role in the poaching and the black market.”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “He is my uncle. He would not do that. He believes he will probably not be punished because . . .” Odette looked as if she might cry.

“What is it? What do you not want to tell me?” When she still seemed to be fighting tears too much to speak, he said, “If it is about you marrying Mathis, I already know.” He tried to sound cool and unaffected, but he had to stand and turn his back on her. He folded his arms across his chest. “I do not blame you, Odette. I know you have to marry him. You would be a fool not to marry him. His money will protect you and . . . give you all the things you want.”
All the things I cannot.

She didn’t say anything.

When he had control of himself again, he turned back toward her. Tears were trembling on her lashes. She ducked her head and wiped her eyes. “I know it does not matter now, but I want to say again how much I regret kissing that other woman. I thought she was you, but I—”