Chapter 33
Margaretha
Dame Thieuloye clapped her hands, the bursts echoing against the tiled walls of the privy. “Bathe faster, Lady Margaretha. The other ladies are nearly done dressing.”
I scrubbed the soap harder against my skin, ignoring the sudden commotion at the privy doors until Thieuloye rushed past me, nearly tripping over herself in her haste to greet the queen.
Thieuloye dipped a bow. “We are near to departing for the hunt. If Comtess de Waldeck were not so slow—”
Queen Mary raised a hand of silence. “I wish to speak to the comtess alone.”
The women shot a few inquisitive glances my way before scurrying to finish dressing, some bearing exultant looks as they followed Thieuloye out of the room.
Queen Mary studied the clothes Ilsa had set out, running a finger over the gown and toying with my ruby necklace as she spoke.
“It appears you’ve proved me right, Comtess.
Upon your arrival I predicted your success at court, and here you are, winning the hearts of many a prominent man.
” She released the necklace from Baron Pempflinger and turned to face me.
“It seems you’ve even won the heart of my nephew. Well, his admiration, at least.”
Trying not to break eye contact, I skimmed my arms over the bathwater in search of a cloth for cover.
“I like you, Margaretha. You have a lovely career at court ahead of you, if you manage it well, so with your best interests in mind, I wish to offer some advice. Stay away from Felipe. He will bring you nothing but trouble and ruin.”
I lifted my chin, attempting to look dignified. “I thank you for your concern, but the prince’s behavior toward me has been above reproach. He’s made no untoward advances, and I should never succumb to them if he did.”
Mary’s lips twitched, and a little huff of laughter escaped her mouth.
“Comtess, you’re as innocent as a newborn lamb if you believe you can outwit my nephew.
I know you’ve taken great pains with your reputation, winning yourself an abundance of admirers while keeping yourself pure as the driven snow, but if you think you can play that game with Felipe, you really are naive.
” She moved to the door, then turned back to me.
“So long as my brother remains, there’s little I can do about his son’s behavior, but once the prince is gone and you’re left in ruin, don’t expect me to intervene when Thieuloye throws you out. ”
The queen left the room, closing the door with a loud thunk.
Despite the warmth of the tub, I couldn’t abate my shaking.
I ran the soap over my arms, I splashed water on my face, I focused on scrubbing the roots of my hair, but it did little to assuage the anger lit by the queen’s words.
She really thought power and a handsome face was all it would take to persuade me into sullying my honor?
She’d practically accused me of being a harlot! How could she think so meanly of me?
Stepping out of the bath, I wrapped myself in a towel and looked over my gown’s articles: the necklace from Pempflinger, the decorative combs from Cobaron, and the handkerchief from Egmont bearing my initials.
The queen was right: I had made conquests and all while keeping myself above reproach.
Did she think I was fool enough to risk my reputation now?
I’d known precisely what I was doing with those men, precisely where to draw the line when in banter or play.
It was what I’d studied and practiced and sacrificed for.
And now to be found morally wanting when I’d done nothing to bring my honor into question?
Remembering Felipe’s impassioned kisses in a dark closet, heat rushed to my cheeks. It was no compromise of honor to kiss a man, but secret rendezvous were harder to explain away. Why had I taken such a foolish risk?
My skin was almost raw when I finished toweling myself dry. Ilsa poked her head around the door, closing it softly behind her. “We must dress you quickly. The ladies are readying to mount for the hunt.”
I stood numb and silent while Ilsa turned me this way and that, cinching and pinching to tuck me into my riding garb.
She plaited my hair and coiled it at the back of my head, pinning a hat atop my crown before prodding me out the door.
Blending into the line of ladies, I sneaked side glances at Anna and Jakelina, at Helena and Dorthea on our walk to the stables.
Did they see me as the queen saw me, a would-be doxy just waiting to be plucked?
Could a few short months be enough to bring my carefully guarded reputation crumbling to the ground?
Perhaps the queen was right. Perhaps the naivete of Wildungen clung to me, as impossible to shrug off as my own skin.
Maybe it was that naivete that had cost me Egmont.
A savvier woman might have found a way to keep his attentions without spurning Felipe’s.
A savvier woman might have won her brother’s freedom in half the time, not be plodding along a year and more later, having yet to broach the subject with anyone.
We entered the stables, where I came upon Friedrich—my biggest blunder of all. A savvier woman would never have let herself fall for someone so impossibly beyond her reach.
***
Friedrich
I recognized the countess’s soft step but kept my eyes down, only acknowledging her presence by walking the horse toward the mounting block.
I was required to offer my arm but half-expected her to shun it like she had at the tournament.
Instead, she rested her gloved hand on me, even giving my arm a gentle squeeze before settling into her saddle.
“Thank you, Friedrich.”
Her words caught me off guard, and I looked into her soaring blue eyes to see genuine gratitude. And a little more sadness than usual. Clearing my throat, I pretended to adjust the stirrup latchet, hoping she couldn’t see how much she still had the power to affect me.
“Will you come with me today?” she asked. “I need a foot huntsman.”
“I am your servant; I will do as you command.” I moved around the horse, adjusting the girth strap.
“I would never command you, Friedrich. I’ve no right to. After what I did to you, to your mother . . . It is I who should be serving you.” She scrubbed a hand over her nose, going silent.
I felt I should say something, but what? That I’d forgiven her? I couldn’t lie, no matter how unhappy she looked up there on her horse with her head bowed.
I said the only honest thing I could. “I fear you’d make a poor servant, my lady.”
She lifted her chin, quirking a smile. “Then I shall spare you that, at least.”
We ambled into the courtyard, joining the slow-moving train on its way to the royal hunting grounds.
The weather was hot and uncomfortable, but after arriving at the grounds, it became almost unbearable.
The prince took quick notice of the countess.
He left his horse with his page, separating himself from the milling nobles and taking the countess by the waist to help her off her horse.
“Where were you, mea columba? I couldn’t find you at the palace.”
“The ladies-of-honor fell behind in the train. I’m afraid I am to blame for our tardiness.”
The prince clucked his tongue. “And I thought my kiss would leave you eager to see me.”
Kiss? My head snapped to attention. Margaretha’s glance told me she’d noticed.
“You would make a flirt of me, Your Grace.” Her voice took a scolding tone, but he laughed.
“And you would make a feeble lover of me, my lady, dismissing my kiss so easily.” He caught up her hand, leaning close to whisper in her ear. I only caught the words soft and skin, but it was more than I wanted to hear. I prayed for a stiff breeze to blow the prince’s words to oblivion.
“Friedrich, I think the foot huntsmen are assembling.” The countess pointed to the men and boys holding beaters and getting instructions.
I bowed my departure and escaped toward the other foot huntsmen, pausing near a grove of trees to grab a sturdy branch for beating.
When I joined the group, I couldn’t stop a reflexive backward glance at Margaretha.
The prince was shamelessly close, running a gloved finger over her jaw as she looked in his eyes.
The hunting horn blew, and I was grateful to leave them both behind, beating my branch against the brush with more energy than I cared to explain.
But no matter how hard I thwacked through the grass, the sweaty work wasn’t enough to put my thoughts to rest. The countess I’d known back in Wildungen was lost to me forever.
Her innocent blush, gone. Her naivete, gone.
The change was painful to see, especially with the prick of guilt telling me I was to blame.
Would she have stayed with me if I’d forgiven her?
Was it because of me that she was forced to demean herself with the prince?
Though from the looks of it, she didn’t seem too troubled by his attentions . . .
Panicked shouting pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned to find a pair of foot huntsmen waving wildly at me.
Their words were buried beneath a snorting sound, a low, hollow growl coming from my left.
A dark blur streaked toward me, and I didn’t even have time to lift my stick in defense before it bowled me over with its head, its sharp tusk tearing through my hose and into my leg.
Scrambling to stand, my feet slipped through slickened grass, and I was back on the ground and beneath the wild boar’s hooves before a deafening crack echoed above me.
The boar let out a short squeal, then dropped on top of me, its dead weight squeezing the air from my lungs.
With shaking hands, I pushed against the boar, wriggling myself out from under its stinking carcass to find a nobleman with a smoking arquebus still pointed in my direction. A distant round of applause made us both turn.
“Good shot, Egmont!” The prince prodded his horse forward, ducking under a branch to meet us in the clearing. “I’m glad to see your skills as a marksman outrank your success with the ladies.”
“Felipe!” Margaretha chided, entering the clearing close behind, but the prince continued unchecked.
“Particularly for the comitissa’s sake. Lady Margaretha may well have lost a servant today.”
I turned back to Egmont and bowed. “I thank you, Your Lordship.”
He nodded and handed his arquebus down to his attendant for reloading. Turning his horse out of the clearing, he called over his shoulder. “Your leg will need attention.”
Confused, I dropped my gaze to see warm blood dripping down my hose. My lower leg suddenly pulsed in pain.
“You’re cut?” Margaretha slid from her horse and knelt to inspect the gash.
The prince sauntered up beside her. “That a good scratch,” he yelled to me in broken French. “A story for telling your enfants, yes?” Did he not know the language of those he ruled?
“It’s not just a scratch.” Margaretha bit off her glove and pried the wound with her fingers. I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth, and she looked up with a furrowed brow. “This cut is deep. It will need stitching.”
The prince bent down to see, then barked in Spanish to one of his pages. The boy ripped the tail of his shirt before coming forward to wrap the linen around my wound.
“Ah, that better now, yes?” The prince smiled and nodded at me. I didn’t think I was allowed to disagree.
“Yes.” I hobbled over to retrieve my stick.
“Very good.” He took hold of Margaretha’s hand, guiding her back to her horse, but she pulled away.
“It will not do. He’s limping, and in short order, the blood will overwhelm the bandage. He needs stitches and a physician.” She was watching me as she spoke, but in the end, she met the prince’s gaze with surprising conviction.
His furrowed brow softened, and he snapped his finger at his attendants. “We’ll put your servant on your horse, Lady Margaretha, and you can ride back with me.” He’d returned to using Latin.
“No, I can’t,” she protested. “I should stay with the queen and her ladies.” But the prince’s servants were already giving me a leg up onto Margaretha’s horse.
The prince mounted his steed and reached his hand down to Margaretha.
When she glanced at me, I pretended to fiddle with the reins, avoiding her gaze until she’d settled into the prince’s saddle.
The prince guided his horse out, and I followed close behind, seeing only his frame, his body and arms covering all but Margaretha’s hat as she sat in front of him. I hated to think how much he was enjoying this. Would he breathe in the lilac scent of her hair and neck? Did she want him to?
I had to stop myself, had to focus on the pain in my leg, which pulsed and ached, yet it wasn’t enough to distract me from the prick of jealousy’s thorn piercing from inside.