The Princess Spy

  She walked back toward the well. She dropped the bucket over the side and it splashed into the water below. When she reached with her good arm to pull it back up, Colin drew near and peered into the well.

  “Halt!” He grabbed her arm.

  She stopped pulling on the rope, leaving the bucket of water dangling, and leaned over to see what he was staring at. Something sparkled, caught on a stone that jutted out slightly a few feet down into the well. “My bracelet! You found it! It must have slipped off my wrist.”

  “Yes, but now we have to get it out without sending it into the water below. Careful.” He took the rope from her, and the front part of his shoulder inadvertently brushed against the back of her shoulder, as he slowly and carefully pulled the rope. The windlass creaked as the bucket rose. He continued to pull, making sure the bucket didn’t sway and hit the bracelet and knock it off its precarious perch.

  The slight brush of his shoulder against hers made her feel strangely warm.

  “How will we ever get it out?” Her voice was a raspy whisper, as if talking might cause the bucket to bump the bracelet into the deep well below.

  “I will go see who I can find to help.” Colin hurried toward the stable. Soon he reappeared with the scowling stable master Dieter and stable boy Fritz as he led them up the slight hill to the well.

  “What does he want?” the stable master asked Margaretha.

  “He wants you to help me get my bracelet out.” She pointed down into the well. “It must have come loose and fallen off my wrist when I took a drink.”

  “Will you translate for me?” Colin asked her in his smooth English accent.

  “Of course.”

  “Tell them to each grab one of my feet and lower me down far enough that I can reach the bracelet.”

  “Oh, that sounds dangerous — ”

  Before she could say anything else, he hefted himself up onto the top of the well’s wall on his stomach and teetered on the edge.

  Quickly, she yelled, “Grab his feet!”

  Dieter and Fritz lunged forward, grabbing Colin’s legs. They hugged his ankles as they lowered him head first into the well.

  Margaretha held her breath as he inched closer to where the bracelet dangled. If he didn’t grab it carefully it could easily fall, sinking to a watery grave, and then they’d never find it. But the thought of Colin himself plunging head first into the narrow well was what made her heart pound against her chest and her stomach turn in circles.

  She shook her head and blinked hard to get the image out of her mind.

  He was almost close enough to reach the bracelet. “Just a little more,” he said, his voice echoing back at them.

  Fritz and Dieter looked grim as they clutched Colin’s ankles.

  He reached out with his right hand, and Margaretha closed her eyes, too afraid to watch.

  “I got it!”

  The two men slowly pulled Colin up until his stomach was resting on the top of the wall. He pushed himself up using his elbows, then held out the bracelet to Margaretha.

  “Thank you.” Margaretha cupped the bracelet in her hands. It wasn’t even broken — all the jewels were still in place, but it had come unclasped.

  She stared up into Colin’s dark blue eyes. “I truly do want to thank you. You risked your life to help me, and then you risked it again to get my bracelet.”

  One side of his mouth crooked upward. “My father says I’m reckless and impulsive — like my grandfather.”

  “Your grandfather?” she prompted.

  “My grandfather once threw himself in front of a wolf that was attacking a servant girl.”

  “Oh! Was he killed?”

  “No, but he lost an eye and was never able to use his left hand again.”

  “I hope nothing like that ever happens to you.”

  Colin’s lip curled as he stared down at her. He chuckled, then laughed, throwing his head back and pressing his hand to his chest. It was a pleasant sound.

  “What are you laughing about?”

  He shook his head. “No, nothing like that has ever happened to me. I flew off in a fury, following after the man who killed my sister’s best friend. I was attacked and left for dead, carted to Hagenheim Castle by a potter and his apprentice, and was saved from death only by the kindness of strangers.”

  Margaretha couldn’t help smiling, and marveled again at how much better he looked with clean hair, a shave, and color in his cheeks. “I can see that you are like your grandfather. But I thought English lords were proud people who would never risk their lives for a maidservant, a woman outside their own class — ” With an intake of breath, she covered her mouth. “Forgive me. I don’t mean to off end you.”

  “You are quite right. English lords are a proud bunch, and it was a strange thing my grandfather did. But he was not a lord at the time. He was merely the second son, and he is not your average English lord. His nature was passionate and impulsive . . . like mine. My parents were right.” He raised his brows and shook his head. “I’ve always wanted to right wrongs and protect damsels, just like my grandfather.”

  The look on his face reminded Margaretha of her father. “Righting wrongs and protecting damsels is good.”

  “But not the kind of activities expected of me. My father says I should be pursuing an advantageous marriage, and planning how to expand my holdings and secure the ones I have.”

  “Those things do not appeal to you?”

  He shrugged. “It is my duty, and when I return, I will not shirk it.” He reached above his head to take down the ladle for the water bucket. He handed it to her, and she used it to take a long drink from the bucket.

  “I always love the way water tastes right out of the well. Once it’s been transferred to earthen pots and pitchers, it seems to lose its fresh taste.” She handed the ladle to Colin and he dipped it into the bucket and took a drink as well.

  “This water is very good.”

  The stable master had reached the stable and turned back to yell, “Get to work!”

  “He will be there soon,” she called pleasantly but firmly to the stable master, who gave her a curt nod and disappeared into the stable.

  “How is your shoulder? Better, I hope.”

  Margaretha tested it, moving her shoulder and arm around. “Only a little sore. I’ve escaped unscathed, it seems.”

  He smiled and shook his head. “I should get back to work.”

  “Wait.” She touched his arm, which was warm, his muscle reassuringly solid. A shiver traveled through her fingers.

  He was giving her his full attention.

  “I . . . I want to do something for you, since you helped me so selflessly.” When he didn’t say anything, she went on. “You said you needed me to spy for you, to listen to Lord Claybrook’s conversations with his captain of the guard.”

  “No, it’s too dangerous. You’re too much of a . . . flibbertigibbet.” He mumbled the last word, which sounded like gibberish, not English.

  “A flibberty what? Is that an English word?”

  He frowned and shook his head. “Never mind.”

  “No, I want to know what you said. I want to learn it if it’s an English word.”

  “It’s not a well-known English word.”

  “What does it mean?”

  He looked away, not meeting her eyes. “Oh, it means . . . someone who wouldn’t make a very good spy.”

  “You have a word in your language that means ‘a person who wouldn’t make a good spy’?”

  He frowned again, but his look was pensive.

  “But if I spied on him, it would help you to know his plans. My spying on Lord Claybrook would return the favor you did for me, wouldn’t it?”

  “You are a courageous girl, Lady Margaretha, but I cannot have you putting yourself in danger. I’ve just witnessed you almost get killed by a horse, and I don’t want to be responsible for something worse happening to you.”

  “You helped me and now I will help you.”


  “No. Thank you for offering, but I don’t want you to — ”

  “Why not? I can do it.”

  His frown deepened, along with his faraway look. “This could end very badly.”

  “It won’t end badly. Besides, I want to do it, to thank you for what you did for me today, and for keeping my secret about riding the black stallion.” She smiled, confident she could do this. For him. “It will turn out well. You’ll see.”

  Chapter

  10

  Seven days after Colin le Wyse had been brought to Hagenheim Castle on a cart, half starved and half dead, he was cleaning out the castle stables and brushing down the horses.

  At least he had his strength back.

  As he brushed down another horse, he relived the events of the day before. His heart beat at a frantic pace at just remembering how Margaretha had flown, head first, off that demon-possessed horse’s back. He thanked God that she had fallen just short of the well instead of falling against its stone — or into it, where she might have struck her head and drowned.

  Even though she sometimes chattered incessantly, treated him like a lack-witted servant, and was naive in not taking his warnings seriously enough, she had a sweet smile and kind nature. The thought of Claybrook being anywhere near her made his heart sink, especially when he imagined her spying on the man. If that criminal were to discover her, he would probably kill her. He could only hope Claybrook would never believe her capable or clever enough to spy on him.

  Not that Colin thought she wasn’t. She was intelligent. But he could easily imagine Claybrook underestimating her.

  Even so, if Claybrook caught her eavesdropping, he would kill her the way he had killed Philippa — by strangling her and throwing her body in the river.

  He never should have asked her to spy.

  If only Duke Wilhelm would return to Hagenheim, Colin would find some way to talk to him. If the duke was a good man, as everyone said he was, he would surely investigate his claims and soon discover that Claybrook was a heartless, devious, power-hungry devil.

  At least Margaretha was safe for now.

  Men’s voices drew near from the other side of the stable. As he continued to brush the large war horse, five men rounded the corner of the building. The one talking was Claybrook.

  The image of John’s mangled body and vacant, staring eyes swept over him. If he had a sword, or any weapon, he could kill Claybrook now. But that would not be the right way to bring him to justice. No. When he confronted Claybrook, he wanted it to be in front of many witnesses, after everyone already knew of his treachery and foul, black heart.

  Colin kept brushing, but he slowly moved so that the horse was between him and Claybrook.

  Claybrook was leading a brown horse by the reins. He handed him off to one of the four men who were with him.

  “. . . We have two days,” Claybrook was saying, in English. “We’ll talk more tomorrow morning. Tonight I must continue wooing Lady Margaretha.”

  Claybrook didn’t immediately leave. He looked around the stable yard. Colin kept his head down, squatting to rub the horse’s legs and hide his face behind the gelding’s flank.

  “Du.” The guard holding the reins was looking at him. Du, Colin had learned, was the German word for you.

  Colin recognized the man. He was one of the men who had attacked him and his faithful friend, John. “Du,” he said again. Then he said something in German that Colin was fairly certain meant, “Come here and take this horse.”

  Colin straightened slowly. He had no choice but to walk across the stable yard and take the horse from Claybrook’s guard.

  He slumped his shoulders and kept his head down slightly as he walked. All the while he was thinking of what he should do if Claybrook or the guard recognized him.

  But by the time Colin reached out to take the horse’s reins, the guard wasn’t even looking at him, and Claybrook had turned and was walking away. Colin watched as the men strode out of sight.

  What was Claybrook plotting? He’d said something about two days. Was he planning to do something evil in two days?

  Colin had to find out.

  Margaretha sat in the Great Hall sharing the evening meal. Lord Claybrook sat beside her, telling her about his travels. She tried to behave normally, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what Colin had said about Lord Claybrook killing his sister’s friend, a young woman who was pregnant with his child. While Claybrook told her about the weather, things they had seen and people they had met, she turned and looked into his eyes. Was it her imagination, or did he look cold and devious?

  Colin had been willing to risk his life for her. He had retrieved her bracelet from the well, and she could do this one small favor for him. She could spy on Lord Claybrook to find out if he truly did have some dastardly plan.

  Pretending to be interested in his stories was difficult, except when he mentioned her father, Duke Wilhelm. But her father had not been able to journey back to Hagenheim, as he was investigating reports of bandits attacking merchants along the north road to Hagenheim.

  After describing his uncle’s castle and holdings west of Hagenheim, Claybrook leaned closer to her. “You would look lovely presiding over the Great Hall at Keiterhafen Castle with me.”

  Margaretha raised her eyebrows, trying to look innocent and interested. “Has my father consented to our betrothal?”

  A smile crept over his face. “No, but I think he will. If you wish it, that is.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. If she wished to marry Lord Claybrook, her father would consent. And now she shivered at how close she had come to marrying this man. She had been thinking that she could stay near her family, and that Lord Claybrook had seemed like a kind person. If Colin had not warned her, would she have become his wife?

  After the meal, Lord Claybrook addressed Margaretha’s mother. “I am tired from my long journey. If you do not object, I would like to retire to my chamber.”

  “Of course. I pray you have a good night’s rest.” Her mother smiled at him.

  “Gute Nacht,” Margaretha said.

  “Gute Nacht,” he replied.

  A few moments after he left, Margaretha told her mother, “I need to go to the garderobe.”

  “Yes, Liebling.”

  Margaretha entered the corridor, lit by torches in the wall sconces, and instead of turning right to go to the garderobe that she and her sisters used, she took off her slippers so her footsteps wouldn’t make any noise and turned left, hoping to follow Lord Claybrook.

  Hearing someone inside the men’s garderobe, she hid herself around the bend in the wall and waited. When the person came out, she moved forward and caught a glimpse of Lord Claybrook’s back as he walked down the corridor toward the chamber where he slept.

  Someone was coming toward her from behind. She was passing her younger brothers’ chamber, and she opened the door and slipped inside, leaving the door open a crack. She held her breath, waiting for the person to pass by. When he did, she saw it was one of Lord Claybrook’s guards.

  He knocked on Claybrook’s door, which quickly opened. Margaretha crept out of her brothers’ chamber and tip-toed closer. She pressed her body against the wall in a particularly dark nook and listened.

  “Tell Reginald I’ll speak with him an hour after sunrise in the apple orchard.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Margaretha hurried back to her brothers’ chamber and hid inside until the guard walked past. When his footsteps had faded, she darted out and hurried back to her own chamber on the other side of the castle.

  Her heart was still pounding sickeningly against her ribs as she sank down on her bed. “I can hardly wait to tell Colin,” she whispered, “that I spied and eavesdropped on Lord Claybrook.” Her heart soared and she giggled.

  Tomorrow morning she would be in the apple orchard, out of sight and perched high in the branches of her favorite climbing tree. She would find out what Claybrook could have to say to the captain of his guard in the ap
ple orchard so early in the morning. Thus she would return Colin’s favor — and perhaps discover the truth about whether Lord Claybrook was a murderer.

  Margaretha was awake and dressed before dawn. The only other people who were up were some of the servants — the cooks and kitchen maids and some of the guards. Margaretha moved quietly out the door, trying not to wake her sisters, who slept in the same chamber.

  The dew on the grass wet her hem as she walked, and the air felt heavy in the dim gray light of morning. The birds seemed to sing quietly, as though afraid to wake the babies in their nests.

  Margaretha wrapped her arms around herself against the chill air. Once in the orchard at the bottom of the small hill, she picked the tree that she had often climbed as a child. Soon she was sitting in the crook of a branch, halfway up, hidden by new leaves. She leaned back against the trunk, holding on to another branch, and settled in to wait.

  She had rearranged herself several times on her uncomfortable perch before she finally heard someone coming. Peeking through the leaves, she saw Lord Claybrook’s guard captain entering the grove of apple trees and coming to stand almost directly below her. A few minutes later, Lord Claybrook himself came to stand under her tree. Little of them was visible besides the tops of their heads.

  Her heart thumped hard against her chest as she tried not to move, not to even breathe too loudly. She must hear what they would say.

  Lord Claybrook’s low voice said, “We need to act fast, before Duke Wilhelm and his son get back.”

  Margaretha’s breath caught in her throat. What did he mean?

  “My uncle’s guards should arrive late tonight.”

  “I thought they wouldn’t be here for two more days.”

  “I received a missive from him last night. They will come tonight, but we will wait until dawn. Then we attack. We shall cut them off from the town by closing the castle gate. Fifty soldiers should be enough to control the townspeople, while we will use the rest to defeat Duke Wilhelm’s guards. We’ll confine the family to the solar in the center tower.”

  A sound like a rushing wind filled Margaretha’s ears. She fought back panic. But she had to keep listening and find out whatever she could.