Lord Hamlin raised his eyebrows at her. “I suppose they can do without me for one more song. Would you dance with me again?”
“Yes.” She didn’t understand the strange emotions that were going through her. Lord Hamlin had proved himself to be her friend, but these feelings were not those she would feel for a friend.
They stood opposite each other, waiting for the music to begin. Rose felt she was the most blessed maiden in the world to be dancing with him. He projected such an air of responsibility and confidence. He towered over her, a conspicuous presence even in the large hall full of people.
The music began. He reached out and took her hands, and she lost herself in the rhythm and in his eyes. His feet moved deliberately but gracefully through the steps. She allowed herself to smile at him and enjoy this dance, trying to imprint it on her memory forever.
When the dance was over, he thanked her and quickly excused himself to rejoin the musicians. She bit her lip as she watched him go.
Gunther came over and talked with her during the next dance. He made her laugh at his jokes and anecdotes until she felt more at ease again.
Then Lord Rupert returned to her side to ask her for the last dance. She was so tired and content, she wanted nothing more than to leave while she was still sure she hadn’t done anything embarrassing. She wondered if it would be impolite to depart before the feast began. But one look at Lord Rupert’s face at the end of the dance told her that he wouldn’t let her go so easily.
Once the trestle tables and benches were brought in for the feast, Rose searched for Frau Geruscha. But she found herself, per Lord Rupert’s instructions, seated between him and Lady Osanna. All eyes turned to see the poor peasant sitting with the two young nobles. The situation was ridiculous, and Rose felt the absurdity of it as keenly as anyone. But thither she was forced to sit, at the high table with Duke Nicolaus and his family.
At least the duchess seemed to bear it well, forcing a smile the rest of the night.
Lady Anne sat beside Lord Hamlin, several people away from Rose, on the other side of the duke. The sight of the two of them sitting side by side gave her such a sinking feeling that she avoided looking that way. She tried to catch the sound of his voice, but the room was too noisy and he was too far away. She was certain he had forgotten all about her, with Lady Anne sitting beside him, but she hoped he didn’t think she was trying to somehow entrap his brother. He must, at the very least, see the inappropriateness of her being seated beside Lord Rupert.
She finally spotted Frau Geruscha several seats away, at a lower table. She looked worried, even angry, but when Rose caught her eye, she smiled.
“Ah!” Lord Rupert drew her attention away from the other guests. He pointed to the huge platter being carried in by four servants. “My favorite dish.”
A peacock perched on the platter, its plumage having been placed back on the roasted body. It did look beautiful, but as the servants lifted off the skin and feathers and began to carve the meat, Rose didn’t feel very hungry.
The guests’ raucous laughter died down to a murmur as they were served the roast fowl with gravy on their trenchers of stale bread. Everyone dug into their food. After a few minutes of focused eating, Lord Rupert began regaling her with stories about the superiority of his horse and complaints about the appalling condition of the roads from Heidelberg, which had almost caused his horse to break a leg. When the conversation lagged, she asked what subjects he had studied at the university.
“Oh, mathematics, philosophy, and debate…the like.”
He leaned over and whispered, “That’s Bishop Albrecht.” With his eyes he indicated the man sitting to his left. The bishop wore a white robe with elaborate gold embroidery and gold jewelry around his neck. “The wealthiest man in the room.”
The man was surely the oldest as well. His pink skin sagged beneath his eyes, and he had a hump where his shoulder blades should have been. Rose had heard the gossip—that Lord Rupert wanted the duke to appoint him the next bishop, to take Bishop Albrecht’s place after his death. But it could only be a rumor.
“How would you like to be that wealthy?” Lord Rupert asked, watching her face.
“I can’t imagine it.” She looked away, uncomfortable with the question.
“I should like it immensely.”
Perhaps he did wish to be the next bishop. But try as she might, she couldn’t form a picture in her mind of Lord Rupert as a chaste clergyman.
Between enjoying the many courses of the feast, Lord Rupert often focused his attention on other guests who approached him to make some comment or share a joke they had heard. Lady Osanna graciously began to talk to Rose, preventing her from thinking how awkward she felt. Rose was grateful for her kindness, especially when one glance in the other direction would bring the duchess into view, as well as the wealthy merchants’ daughters, who were seated at a lower table.
The feast seemed to go on and on as more food was paraded around the tables than they could possibly eat.
During the fourth course, Lord Rupert gulped his spiced red wine, smiling his satisfaction. Rose took small sips. She wasn’t used to drinking wine that wasn’t watered down, and she was anxious to leave the feast before Lord Rupert and the other men should begin to get drunk.
He leaned toward her, and in a subdued voice, asked, “Are you enjoying your first feast?”
“Yes, I thank you.”
“Did you enjoy the dances?”
“Very much.”
“I’m told I’m an excellent dancer.”
“I would have to agree.”
“Which dances were your favorites?” He leaned even closer and his gaze settled on her lips.
Rose cleared her throat and glanced down at her plate. “The Carolingian Pavane and the Maltese Branle.”
“And you danced those with me, if I recall correctly.”
But tonight she had enjoyed the almain and the carol even more.
He looked away long enough to pick up his silver tankard and take another long drink. He set it back in its place and turned to her again. “I saw you dancing with my brother. He’s quite taken with you.”
His comment made her thoughts race. Taken with her? “That is an unfortunate thing for you to say.” She looked away, pretending to ignore him.
“Now don’t take that tone. I know you like me best.” He grinned.
She didn’t like the way he was behaving or this conversation. He’d obviously had too much to drink.
“Go riding with me tomorrow.”
Affecting the same cool tone she’d used earlier, she said, “I cannot. It would be improper.” Not to mention unwise. “Besides, I don’t know how. I’ve never ridden a horse.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“Not without a chaperone.”
“Then I’ll get a chaperone. One of Osanna’s ladies will go with us.”
The prospect left her feeling anxious, but what other excuse could she give? “Frau Geruscha may have something for me to do tomorrow. I would have to ask her first. I work for her, you know.”
“And she works for my family, and therefore you must do as I say.” His eyes teased her.
“As I said, I will ask Frau Geruscha tomorrow.”
“Then I shall come for you in the morning, before the sun gets high.”
Rose merely shook her head. Her mind was sluggish and she wasn’t sure what to say. She would discuss it with Frau Geruscha. Her mistress should be able to provide her a good reason not to go.
After the fifth course, Rose saw a few people leave. Men began shouting crude jokes and dallying with the maidens who were helping serve the food and wine. Rose turned to Lady Osanna and whispered, “Would it be rude if I left now?”
“No, most of the ladies will leave soon. I enjoyed our conversation. I hope my brother wasn’t too trying.”
“Oh, no, it was a wonderful night.” Rose glanced up to see Frau Geruscha standing just behind her.
“Let us go, Rose.”
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“You’re not departing so soon, are you?” Lord Rupert grabbed Rose’s hand as she stood. He affected a crestfallen expression.
“I’m afraid I must. I thank you for favoring me tonight.” She extracted her hand from his.
He waved and called after her, “Farewell until tomorrow.”
She cringed, wishing he had not said that so loudly. Lord Hamlin was getting to his feet at that moment, and his eye caught hers. With a serious expression, he nodded. She nodded back. What could he be thinking about her sitting with his brother?
And why did she care so much?
Chapter
7
Wilhelm headed out of his bedchamber and down the corridor. As he passed Rupert’s chamber, the door burst open and Rupert bumped into him.
Just the person he wanted to see. Wilhelm refused to move out of his brother’s way, forcing him to look him in the eye. “I saw you dancing with Rose last night, making her sit beside you at the feast. What are your intentions toward her?”
The lighted candle on the wall sconce illuminated Rupert’s face. “Intentions?” Rupert squinted at him.
“You had better not try anything dishonorable with her, Rupert. She’s not—she’s not the kind of maiden that—”
“Save your sermon, big brother.” Rupert’s teeth glowed in the dim corridor. “I’m not as big a louse as you think I am. I like Rose. In fact, I think she’s just the maiden I’ve been looking for.”
Wilhelm eyed his brother, his stomach tightening. “What do you mean by that?”
“I said what I meant.”
“You know Rose has no wealth, no property.” Wilhelm couldn’t imagine his brother giving up the prospect of finding a rich heiress to make his fortune. And he knew Rupert’s desire to become the bishop was connected to the clergyman’s opulence.
“Why don’t you go find your conjurer and stop trying to be my conscience?”
A prickly heat crept up Wilhelm’s neck. If Rupert dared to hurt Rose…“Just don’t try what you did with the maid at the inn in Heidelberg.”
Rupert’s reply was strained. “Your advice is duly noted. I thank you.” He turned his back on Wilhelm and strode down the hall.
Wilhelm resisted the urge to go after him, to spin him around and make him swear never to try any of his disarming tricks on Rose.
He would like to think Rupert’s intentions were honorable and he was only angry because his older brother didn’t trust him. But Wilhelm suspected Rupert’s anger arose from the fact that he had come too close to the truth.
Certainly if Rupert chose a wife without a sizeable dowry, Wilhelm could, and would, make sure Rupert’s life was comfortable. And if Rupert fell in love with a respectable maiden like Rose, perhaps he would be willing to settle down at the manor house that rightfully belonged to him and live a comfortable life in the country. At least, that was what Wilhelm had always hoped for him. Rupert certainly wasn’t the right man to lead the Church.
Despite his hopes, he found it hard to imagine Rupert settling down. After all, he was only twenty-one years old. And hadn’t he proven himself licentious and immature during the past two years while they were away in Heidelberg?
But Rupert’s interest in Rose aroused Wilhelm’s anger more than he dared explore. She was not one of the dissolute wenches Rupert frequently spent time with. Surely Rupert realized that. If he didn’t, Wilhelm vowed he would impress the fact on his brother in terms he could not mistake.
He sighed and turned in the direction of the southwest tower. It was time to have his stitches taken out. And time for him to stop thinking about Rose. Past time. He should never have allowed himself to dwell on her beauty, her unaffected manners, her sweet but determined temperament…
Wilhelm shook his head. He was doing it again.
Rose turned the crank on the side of the stone well. Water sloshed in the bucket at the end of the rope. As it neared the top, the handle turned slower and she pulled harder. Finally, the full bucket came into view, and she unhooked it from the windlass. Wrapping both hands around the handle, she hefted it off the short stone wall of the well. She made her way across the castle courtyard toward the southwest tower, inching along and sloshing water on the ground around her feet.
A shadow crossed her path and she glanced up. Lord Hamlin stood three steps in front of her.
“May I?” He took the bucket from her, wrapping his big, sunbrowned hand around the handle.
“Thank you.”
He started in the direction of the tower without looking at her, carrying the bucket easily with one hand.
Rose pushed the hair out of her eyes. She couldn’t help but contrast the way she must have looked the night before—her curls elegantly piled on top of her head, her colorful silk dress gliding across the dance floor—with how she looked today. This morning her hair trailed over her shoulders and down her back in a disheveled mass, and she wore the same ugly green kirtle she’d worn the day she sewed up his leg. She had scrubbed the blood stain until it was so faint she didn’t think anyone would notice.
“I was just on my way to Frau Geruscha’s chamber to get my stitches out.” Lord Hamlin stared straight ahead.
“Oh.” Today?
“I was supposed to come yesterday.”
“Frau Geruscha is here. It won’t take her a moment.” Thank goodness I won’t have to do it.
They reached the door and Lord Hamlin stood back to let Rose go in first. Rose tried to take the bucket from him, but he pointed into the storage room. “Do you want this in there?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Rose watched as he set the bucket on the floor, his shoulder muscles straining against his white linen shirt. He looked around. “You have a lot of herbs in here.”
“Yes, Frau Geruscha knows everything about medicinal herbs.”
Frau Geruscha must have heard their voices, because she called from the second floor, “I’ll be down in a moment!”
Lord Hamlin and Rose wandered back into the main chamber.
“What is this?” Lord Hamlin strode over to the desk by the window.
“The Bible.” Rose stopped in the middle of the room, several steps away. “It belongs to Frau Geruscha, but she lets me read it.”
His face softened and his eyebrows quirked upward. “The Bible? That’s my favorite book.”
He did that thing with his eyes again, exchanging wordless information with her own. He seemed to say, “It pleases me to know you read it.” An inexplicable happiness flowed through her.
Uh-oh. Her imagination was doing a Hildy again.
“Frau Geruscha taught you to read Latin as well as German?”
Rose nodded.
“Lord Hamlin.” Frau Geruscha’s voice caused Rose to jump. “You’ve come to have your stitches removed, I presume.”
Frau Geruscha stepped into the room from the dark stairwell. Her starched wimple covered her graying hair. “Sit here on the bed and stretch your leg out so we can have a look.”
Lord Hamlin sat down on the bed and pulled off his boot. He was wearing footless hose and pulled them up until they exposed his stitches.
“Oh, my.” Frau Geruscha leaned over his leg. “You healed faster than I anticipated. Some of the stitches have become a touch embedded. But that’s no matter. Come here, Rose.”
Rose hurried to Frau Geruscha’s side.
“Rose, I want you to remove the stitches.”
Rose’s heart sank. What could she do? If she refused, Lord Hamlin might realize how embarrassed she felt touching him, and Frau Geruscha would be disappointed in her. If she hoped to be a good healer, she couldn’t shirk such a simple task.
Frau Geruscha stood to let Rose take her place. Rose swallowed her panic and sat down. She kept her eyes focused on Lord Hamlin’s stitches.
“Here.” Frau Geruscha handed her the small shears with sharp metal points.
Rose looked at them, then down at Lord Hamlin’s white leg and the black stitches. She couldn’t help gl
ancing up at his face. He gave her a slight smile.
Does he know I have no idea what I’m doing, that I’m embarrassed about touching him, and terrified of disappointing Frau Geruscha?
She should project confidence, not fear and timidity. She had seen Frau Geruscha do this before. It was a simple thing to clip the stitches and pull them from the flesh. Yes. Simple, easy. She could do this.
Rose leaned down. She drew close to the skin with the shears, then straightened again. “Frau Geruscha, will you make sure I do this correctly, please?”
“Yes, Rose, of course. Go ahead.”
She drew near again, pretending to work on a stranger’s leg. I simply have to get the stitches out…efficient, quick.
But some of the stitches were embedded. She placed the points around the knot at the end, which had sunk into the skin. She pulled on the catgut with her fingers and tried to get between the knot and the skin with the points. Then she snipped. Oh no. Red blood seeped from the knick she’d inflicted.
Wilhelm let out a hiss of pain.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She grabbed the cloth Frau Geruscha was holding out to her and dabbed at the blood. “Frau Geruscha, you had better do this.” Leaping to her feet, she upset the stool, which clattered onto the floor. Her face burned.
“No, no, you’re doing fine. There’ll be a little blood. The stitches don’t want to come out now that the skin is beginning to grow over them. You must just snip and then give them a little tug.”
Rose knew that the blood had come from her pricking his leg with the shears and not from the embedded state of the stitches. Some healer she was!
Frau Geruscha addressed Lord Hamlin. “A little blood is to be expected.”
He smiled as though amused. “Sorry I made that noise, Rose. Snip away. You won’t hurt me.”
With a slight tremor in her hand, she picked up the stool, righted it, and sat down. She bowed over his leg and concentrated. Carefully she slipped the end of the shears under the first stitch and clipped it with a soft snap. No blood. But now she had to pull out the embedded stitch.
Fairy Tale Romance Collection Page 8