Free Escape from the Past by Annette Oppenlander Page A

bastard son?” I said, avoiding her eyes.Talking about sex was dangerous territory.
    She shook her head again in impatience. “That’s different. Ott is a Lord’s son. He’s Miranda’s only child.” She paused. “It is rumored his father is the Duke von Dörnberg.”
    “Who’s that?” I thought of forgotten history lessons. Nothing came to mind.
    Juliana shrugged. “The court master of a powerful landgrave. Do you have a lass?”
    “You mean a girl?” I thought of the girls in my school and how spoiled they seemed, my half-hearted attempts at kissing Julia Kellermann at a recent party. Juliana was a slave and afraid of getting raped at any moment. Somehow, I wanted to protect her. “Not really.”
    A rap at the door made me jump. Maybe Bero was being polite. I grinned to myself as I opened the door. Bero didn’t know the meaning of polite.
    “Why are you knock—?”
    Lady Miranda pushed past me into the room. She’d lifted her skirt a few inches as if she wanted to avoid contamination. Behind her a man in his twenties, dressed in black and green velvet, entered. His hair, the same color as Miranda’s, was long and stringy and topped with a droopy hat, ringed with some sort of reddish fur.
    “We’re looking for our maid,” Miranda said. “Ah yes, there she is.” Miranda’s gaze swept through the room, her eyes narrowed in disgust. “She’s deserted her post without the merest excuse. We came to collect her.” Miranda snapped her fingers at me. “Step aside.”
    “She was attacked by your son and needed help,” I said, stepping between Miranda and Juliana. I was at least ten inches taller, but the fellow behind her looked like he wrestled in his free time. His chest was broad and the sword on his hip looked well used.
    “What a brazen thing to say,” the man said. “Who are you?”
    “I’m Max. You?”
    “Mind your filthy mouth.”
    Miranda raised her arm. “Silence. I’m Lady Miranda. This is Lord Ott, my son and the master of our estate.”
    More like a rat, I thought. The guy’s front teeth were too large for his face as he stood sniveling behind his mother. The air of entitlement was hard to miss.
    “Juliana is bound to me,” said Miranda.
    “Juliana can’t travel.” I moved in front of the girl and crossed my arms. “She nearly lost her leg after your son stabbed her with a pitchfork.”
    Ott’s rat eyes squinted with loathing.
    “Surely, this is a most unfortunate misunderstanding. The girl is clumsy.” Miranda glanced at Juliana and the bandaged leg. “Why didn’t she ask for my aid if she had an accident?”
    “It wasn’t an accident.” ‘Cause your son is a lusty swine, I thought. “She may die if she’s moved right now,” I said instead. Below us Juliana started to moan in obvious agony. “She couldn’t possibly serve you well. She needs someone to take care of her.”
    “I’ll put her on my horse,” Ott grumbled.
    Miranda looked back and forth between the girl and me. Finally she sighed as if she’d been dealt a terrible blow. “I’ll expect her back in time for the harvest festival. We have guests and celebrations. I need her. Otherwise I’ll have to have her seized for stealing.”
    “She didn’t take anything,” I said.
    “She’s been given many things,” Miranda said. “Dress, shoes, food…lodging.”
    You slave driver, she’s been working for that
I wanted to scream. Digging deep for self-control, I bowed my head. “We’ll discuss it with her mother.”
    Miranda turned to leave. “Yes, good of you to remind me. Juliana’s mother received two Schilling for her.”
    At the door, Ott glanced at the girl on the straw sack, his eyesraking across her body. I was ready to punch the guy in his ratty teeth.
    Ott scanned my outfit. “Bizarre robes and no manners. Somebody ought to teach you to honor your Lords,” he hissed. “Watch yourself.” His eyes blazed with something like hate before he followed his mother outside.
    Watching Miranda