A Melanie Dickerson Collection Read online

  “Yes, I thank you. I am much better now anyway.”

  “I also heard that your uncle was taken to the dungeon, and I assure you I am working to get him released. I shall protect you, Odette, and I shall save your uncle. This I vow to you.” He took her hand between both of his and bent to kiss it. “I shall use my influence—my money—to make sure your uncle shall be restored to his place in business and in society in Thornbeck. My wife shall be safe, and all her family as well.”

  Odette’s stomach flipped, as it always did when thinking of marrying Mathis. She was grateful at the thought that he would save Rutger, but . . . She wished she didn’t have to be in debt to him. Even Jorgen had said she would be foolish not to marry Mathis.

  “Thank you,” Odette said, hoping she sounded weak. “When I am fully recovered, please come back and talk with me some more.”

  Mathis took the hint and stood to go. “My dear.” He kissed her hand again, then gazed into her eyes for a few moments before turning to leave.

  Two days later, Odette was able to walk around her house with only mild pain. Her arm was better as well, and she felt much stronger. She had not seen Jorgen since the night she was so feverish and in pain, when he sat by her bed and bathed her face with water.

  As she sat by the front window watching the people walking by below, she wondered when she had last done this. It felt strange just to sit and do nothing, not to go hunting, night after night, to know that the poor were going hungry, to miss teaching her class. Were the children sitting there outside the town wall waiting for her, wondering why she did not come, why she had abandoned them? Did they feel as alone as she had felt after her mother and father died?

  A tear slipped down her cheek just as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She wiped it away before Jorgen called, “Odette, may I come in?”

  “Please do.” She smiled in anticipation.

  Jorgen appeared in the doorway and came toward her. “My mother says you are well, and I can see that you are.”

  “I am much better. No fever.”

  “And your leg wound is no longer inflamed, I hear.”

  “Thanks to your mother’s care, I am doing very well.”

  He came and sat in a chair near her. “I want to ask you about the children.”

  “I have been thinking about them too. I feel so sad that I haven’t been able to teach their lessons. And now that I realize the meat I was poaching was not going to feed them . . .” Odette shook her head. “I feel like the last year of my life was wasted, stolen, blackened. I wronged you, I wronged the margrave, and I stole from the king. And I failed to help the ones who truly needed help.”

  “You were doing what you thought was right.” Jorgen took her hand between his, but then he seemed to realize what he was doing, and he gently laid it back down and pulled his hands back.

  “Odette.” He cleared his throat and began to look and sound more businesslike. “I want you to think about what should be done. If you could do anything you wanted, what would you do for the poor children?”

  “Well . . .” Odette had thought about this before. “I think there should be a home for orphaned children. The children should be provided food and clothing and be allowed to go to the town school. They should have kind people watching over them, people who love children and will make them feel loved. And for poor mothers there should be a place for them to go where their children are watched over while they learn a skill or learn how to create things to sell, like clothing or candles or something that will earn them enough money to live.”

  “Would you like to be in charge of a place like that?”

  “Me?” Odette laughed. “Of course. I am a hard worker, you know.”

  “Yes, I do know.”

  “And even though I am good at hunting, I am good at other things as well.”

  Jorgen nodded. “I have no doubt of that.”

  “But I am sure the margrave will want to see me, and I am ready to confess my wrongs to him.”

  “Yes,” Jorgen said with a sober expression. “He will send for you when you are feeling better. Perhaps even tomorrow.”

  She deserved punishment. Even she could admit that. She also quaked inside at the thought of that punishment, but she nodded so as not to reveal her fears to Jorgen.

  He stood. “I must go, but I shall return when the margrave sends for you.”

  Odette’s stomach sank a little. Must he go so soon? She had hardly spoken to him in days. But she merely nodded.

  Jorgen had been gone for a few minutes when Odette looked out the window and saw Anna hurrying up the street. She seemed to stop at Odette’s door. A few minutes later, she came into her room.

  “Odette!” she cried in her breathiest voice, her hands cupping her cheeks. “I just heard you were hurt! And Rutger is in the dungeon! What happened?” She sank into the chair that Jorgen had just vacated.

  Odette sighed. “What is the gossip?”

  “That Rutger was selling poached meat out of The Red House and that you were the poacher.” Her voice sounded shocked. “I heard you were hurt from someone who knows Susanna the healer and that Rutger is in the dungeon. What happened? Please tell me!”

  “Jorgen saw me poaching and he shot me, once in the arm and in the leg.”

  Anna gasped and covered her mouth.

  “He did not know it was me. His mother has been taking care of me. But, Anna”—tears filled her eyes—“Rutger was not giving the meat to the poor. For the past six months, all the good I thought I was doing . . . It was only for Rutger to try to pay off his debt.”

  Anna put her arms around Odette’s shoulders as she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. She wiped at her eyes with her handkerchief, taking deep breaths to try to dispel the tears.

  “Why didn’t God stop me? Why didn’t He let me find out what Rutger was doing?”

  “I do not know, but you were doing what you thought was right. Rutger is the one who did wrong.”

  “I did wrong too. I wronged Jorgen. I wronged the margrave. I stole, and it was all for naught.”

  “God knows our hearts, Odette.” Anna pulled away and looked into Odette’s eyes. “He knows your heart and your love for the poor. God knows everything.”

  “Perhaps the worst part is that I told Mathis I would marry him. And Jorgen told me he thought I should marry Mathis. That I would be a fool not to.” She put her face in her hands, her tears turning cold. Jorgen didn’t care for her. How could God fix this? Did God even care about her, after what she had done?

  “You must not cry so much. It will make you sick and cause an imbalance in your humors.”

  Odette made an effort to stop crying, and Anna sat back in the chair. “Tell me something about you,” Odette told Anna. Odette needed to think about someone else for a change.

  Anna sighed. “My two children have been sick. That is why I did not come here sooner. But they are better now.”

  “I am so sorry they’ve been sick! But very glad they are well again. Did anyone else get sick?”

  They talked about which servants were also sick and for how long, and all about her children’s sickness, plus several household matters. Anna took great pride in keeping her household running smoothly. And Odette told Anna all the reasons it was best if she married Mathis. Then Anna said she had to get back home.

  She hugged Odette. “You do not think the margrave will put you in the dungeon? No, of course he won’t,” Anna answered her own question and shook her head. “Do not even think about such a thing. Since you are marrying Mathis, I’m sure nothing bad will happen. But if I can help with anything, please tell me.”

  “Thank you, Anna. I will.” But the only person who could help her now was God Himself.

  30

  JORGEN ARRIVED AT Odette’s home the next morning on horseback with a second horse in tow. He dismounted and tied the horses so they would not wander off. He knocked on the door and was allowed to go up to see Odette.

  “I have bee
n sent to bring you to face the margrave.”

  Odette sighed. “Let us get this over and done.”

  She wore a dark-purple underdress with a lighter purple surcoat. The cutaway sides draped in folds below her hips that she had to hold up with one hand when she walked. It was beautiful, and she was beautiful in it. Her blond hair hung down her back in large curls, with a simple circlet and ribbons at her temples. She was more breathtaking than usual.

  He helped her down the steps, going in front of her and letting her lean on his shoulder.

  When she saw the horses, she stopped and looked at him. “The margrave sent two horses? Was he not afraid I would break away from you and escape?”

  Jorgen shook his head as he untied them. “I know you would not try to run away.” He glanced at her. “I did get these horses from the margrave, but he is selling them to me.”

  “You own two horses now?” She smiled at him.

  Was she impressed? He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her into the sidesaddle, careful of her injured leg and arm.

  They set out for Thornbeck Castle. While walking the horses through town, they were both silent, but every time he glanced at her to make sure she was following him and not having any difficulties, she was looking at him.

  Once they had gone out the town gate and started on the road to Thornbeck Castle, Odette’s expression turned dejected, and she stared down at the horse’s neck. No doubt she was dreading having to face the margrave.

  After riding in silence for a few minutes, Odette asked, “What do you think the margrave will do?”

  “I do not know.” What if the margrave wanted to have her tried by a judge and executed? He would have to risk his new position as chancellor to save her. He would do anything, even lose the position he had always hoped for—even though Odette didn’t love him enough to marry him. Even though she was marrying Mathis.

  He shook off these morose thoughts, for Odette’s face looked drawn and pale.

  “Are you in pain?” he asked as they reached the front of the castle.

  “No.”

  He went to help her dismount. Odette held on to him. She didn’t meet his eyes, and she did not remove her hands from his shoulders. Instead, she seemed to be staring at his chest. Then her hands slipped around his neck and she pressed her face into his shoulder.

  He wrapped his arms around her. Was she crying? She wasn’t shaking or making any weeping sounds.

  “I know I have no right,” she whispered.

  He stroked her hair and squeezed her shoulder. When she pulled away, he felt his heart wrench. But he let her go.

  Odette took his arm, looking a little less pale as they went inside.

  Odette and Jorgen were led into the margrave’s library. Odette held her head high and tried to hide her limp. She greeted the margrave with a curtsy.

  The margrave remained seated. He was scowling, but she thought that was probably his usual expression. Though he was handsome, it was not a warm and friendly handsome, like Jorgen’s. It was a rugged, serious, intensely masculine handsome that made her shiver. He was the highest authority in Thornbeck and could do to her as he saw fit.

  She and Jorgen stood in front of him. Her hands shook, so she clasped them together.

  “Odette Menkels, I suppose you know why I have summoned you here.”

  “Yes, Lord Thornbeck.”

  “Do you deny that you poached scores of the king’s deer from this forest?”

  She calculated in her head. Yes, it was safe to say it was “scores.”

  “I do not deny it, my lord, but I am very repentant for what I did. I thought all the meat was going to feed the poor. I . . . I wanted to help the poor children whom I knew were going hungry.”

  The margrave’s brows were still lowered. “So I have been told by Jorgen. But most of the meat was not going to the poor. Is that not true?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Can you prove that you did not know what Rutger was doing with the meat?”

  Odette opened her mouth, not sure what to say. “I do not suppose I can prove it.”

  “You knew, did you not, that killing the deer in Thornbeck Forest is a crime against the king? And that the punishment for poaching is imprisonment, the loss of one’s hand, or even execution?”

  Her chest rose and fell, her face burning and her hands sweating. “Yes, my lord.”

  “The poaching of so many large animals was a grave loss to the king and may be the cause of wild boars, and therefore wolves, invading this area. Do you realize you are responsible for this?”

  “N-no, my lord,” she stammered. Jorgen had not told her that. “But I am very remorseful.” Her lip trembled. She caught it between her teeth.

  “Your actions were lawless and rebellious.”

  She glanced at Jorgen. She was ashamed that he had to hear his lord speak to her of all her sins. By the look on his face, perhaps Jorgen had thought the margrave would be lenient to her and he hadn’t expected the margrave to berate her.

  “You destroyed perhaps hundreds of the king’s deer, and all to help pay your uncle’s debt.”

  “That is true. I did.” Her voice sounded breathy as she held back tears.

  “You will leave your home by the end of the week, as it now belongs to me, in payment for the loss of these deer. In fact, all of your uncle’s property is forfeit to me from this day onward.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “You will be available to help control the population of dangerous predatory animals, such as wolves and wild boar, should that become necessary, by virtue of your great skill with a longbow.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The air rushed back into her lungs. At least he did not intend to execute her. And he couldn’t mean to cut off her hand, since she could not stretch a bowstring if he did.

  “For the sake of my forester, Jorgen Hartman, I will not punish you beyond the wounds you have already sustained by consequence of your poaching. However, I have one stipulation.” The margrave paused, looking from her to Jorgen and back to her, as if to make sure he had their complete attention. “Since I cannot have a lawless woman running around with only a weak-willed uncle to restrain her . . .”

  Again he paused while Odette’s heart beat faster.

  “You must marry—immediately.”

  “Oh.”

  “Mathis Papendorp has informed me that he is planning to marry you. However, I have another suggestion.” He glowered at her from beneath thick black brows.

  Odette’s mouth had gone dry. She couldn’t even swallow. What would he say next?

  “I suggest you marry Jorgen Hartman. In fact, I strongly suggest it.”

  Odette looked at Jorgen. He looked back at her. By his wide eyes and open mouth, he had not expected the margrave to say that any more than she had.

  She had heard of men avoiding execution if a woman, any woman, agreed to marry them.

  Wait. Had he not said that he would not punish her? She could marry Jorgen and not have to worry about punishment? She didn’t have to marry Mathis!

  But what about the children? What about Rutger? Mathis would not use his money to help either one of them if she married Jorgen. But God had provided for the children without her help for the past six months.

  She gazed up at Jorgen, standing just beside her. His chest was rising and falling fast. He licked his lips. Was his mouth as dry as hers?

  Jorgen turned to the margrave. “My lord, I do not wish you to force her. I—”

  “No, Jorgen, let her decide,” Lord Thornbeck cut him off. “You deserve to have the woman you want to marry.”

  Odette’s face went hot. Yes, Jorgen deserved the woman he wanted to marry. But did he still want her? And he also deserved a woman who wanted to marry him. Would he protest to the point that the margrave would become enraged at him? She couldn’t allow that.

  “My lord,” she said quickly, “I must first ask a question. Why would you have your forester marry me? Should you not al
low him to choose?”

  “He has already chosen.” The margrave’s voice was cool and expressionless. “He wishes to marry you. And I wish to grant him his desire—if you are as worthy as he thinks you are.”

  Jorgen was still red faced, but he was staring at her with that vulnerable look she could never resist, the look that was melting her heart. “Marry me, Odette.”

  Her heart stuttered. She swallowed and pushed back the longing to throw her arms around him. “I do want to marry Jorgen Hartman”—she wrenched her gaze from Jorgen and turned to the margrave—“with all my heart, but I do not accept him to escape punishment or to escape marrying someone I do not love. I accept him because he is the best man I have ever known. He is good and kind and honest. He is exactly the kind of man I would wish to marry. I may not be worthy of him, but I love him.”

  She was afraid to look at Jorgen, her insides trembling at the bold words she had just spoken.

  “Very well. I see.” Lord Thornbeck cleared his throat. He gave a half smile and picked up some papers off the desk behind him and gazed down at them a moment. “And now I have some other problems to discuss with you both.”

  Odette’s stomach fluttered. Other problems? Would he tell her that he had been in jest, that she, a poacher, would not be allowed to marry Jorgen, the best and most noble man in Thornbeck?

  “Your uncle, Rutger Menkels, whom I have locked in my dungeon and from whom I have confiscated his property for his crimes . . . I have become aware that he was also wronged. Mathis Papendorp stole a large shipment of his goods.”

  What? Mathis had stolen from Rutger?

  “Mathis schemed to make him destitute in order to marry you. Although he planned to give Rutger his property back, this is not something I take lightly. I was not amused when I heard this story, and now I plan to free your uncle and force Mathis to give him back twice as much as he stole from him, with interest.”