The Healer's Apprentice

by Melanie Dickerson

  “Oh.” She thought for a moment, staring into her lap. She remembered the poison the man had forced her to drink, remembered the demons. She had been so terrified. Then Wilhelm had commanded them to leave in Jesus’ name. And they vanished.

  Thank you, Jesus, for saving me from Brunckhorst and from the demons. She was safe. Jesus had delivered her. She remembered Duke Wilhelm standing in the middle of the room, his fists clenched, commanding the demons to leave.

  Frau Geruscha brought her a cup of water. “Drink this.”

  Rose sat up and obeyed, watching her mistress from over the rim of her cup. She let her gaze drop down to her lap as she handed it back, remembering something else. “Duke Wilhelm kissed me, didn’t he? I must leave here.” Her voice was a ragged whisper. “I can’t stay and be a temptation to him, with his bride coming in a few days.”

  Frau Geruscha sat beside her on the bed and took Rose’s hands in hers. “Don’t cry, my dear. His bride is already here.”

  It had to be Rose.

  Wilhelm paced the Great Hall. The Duke and Duchess of Marienberg, after feasting for what seemed like days instead of an hour, had retired to a large chamber on the second floor. There they would meet their daughter in private.

  During the feast, Wilhelm had turned to Duke Godehard and asked if he could be presented to his betrothed immediately.

  “Tonight?” the duke roared, drawing his shoulders back and glaring at Wilhelm.

  “Yes, sir, if you have no objection.” Wilhelm stared back, daring him to object.

  The man rubbed his enormous, stubbly jowls and squinted at Wilhelm. He broke into a grin and clapped Wilhelm on the shoulder. “Why not? You’ve waited long enough to see her.”

  Wilhelm’s hope was bolstered when he noticed that the Duchess of Marienberg was a handsome woman. Did he only imagine a resemblance to Rose? If only he could see the color of her hair, but it was completely covered by a wimple and jeweled circlet.

  Now here he waited, alone in the Great Hall, all the food having been cleared away and the trestle tables removed by the weary servants. They’d toiled hard all day, ever since the announcement of the Duke of Marienberg’s unexpected arrival. He’d reward them with several days off at Christmas.

  He’d sat through the interminable feast. Now he had to wait for her parents to talk to her first. Parents who had been too weak, too afraid, or too indifferent to protect their child themselves, having sent her away as a baby.

  A cold feeling oozed through his stomach.

  He could burst into the room and let them know he was tired of waiting. What could they do?

  The clock chimed the hour—ten o’clock. He tried to pray, to calm his nerves, but the only thing he could say was, “O God, let it be Rose.”

  He heard footsteps coming down the corridor toward him. It was probably only a servant, but he couldn’t resist going to the doorway and peering out.

  It was Frau Geruscha. She curtsied to him.

  “Your betrothed is in the library. You may go to her now.”

  He brushed past her, striding briskly down the corridor.

  His heart thundered against his chest. He reached out his hand and pushed open the library door. He stepped inside.

  Four large candelabras lit the windowless room. A woman stood with her back to the door, wearing a dress he didn’t recognize. Her hair was gathered up on the back of her head and covered by a gold caul.

  He took a step toward her. She turned around, a tentative smile on her face.

  His beautiful Rose.

  He sank to his knees and raised his hands over his face. “Thank you, God. You’re so good to me.”

  Chapter 28

  Rose’s heart fluttered when her eyes met Duke Wilhelm’s. She waited for him to come closer, to say something. Then he sank to his knees and covered his face.

  Should she go to him? She ventured closer, trying to make out what he was saying.

  “Thank you, God, thank you. My Rose…God is good…God is so good.”

  He slowly lowered his arms. The look on his face reached out and wrapped her in a warm embrace of love. He got to his feet and held out his hand.

  She closed the gap between them and buried her face in his chest. His arms enfolded her.

  “Thank God, it’s you.” His voice was ragged, and his chest rose and fell with each breath.

  “I love you.” It felt so good to say the words. How warm and comfortable she felt, pressed close to him. She could hardly believe she was standing here, in Duke Wilhelm’s arms.

  His hands touched her hair. One of Lady Osanna’s maids had twisted it into a bun on the back of her head. He lifted the wire net off the back of her head, dropping it on the floor with a clatter, which was soon accompanied by the plink-plink of metal hair pins hitting the stone tiles. He unwound her hair and sank his fingers in it as it spilled down her back. Gathering the long tresses up to his face, he breathed deeply.

  He opened his eyes, and they shimmered in the candlelight. She gazed into them, and a dozen scenes seemed reflected in their depths, especially her last hazy memory of him bending over her and pressing his lips to hers. His every feature was highlighted by the flickering candles.

  “You are the most beautiful sight,” he whispered. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

  She leaned into him, her whole body melting.

  His lips moved to her temple, then her cheek. Finally, they slipped down and found her mouth. He kissed her slowly, reverently, his hands resting on the sides of her head, his thumbs lightly touching her cheekbones.

  His kiss intensified, sending warmth through her whole body. She slipped her arms around his neck and held on as though she were falling. Her legs turned to mush but she didn’t want him to stop. She kissed him back and he responded, taking her breath away.

  He finally ended the kiss, pulling her closer. “Oh, Rose. God is so merciful to me.”

  His deep voice sent a warm shiver down her back. His lips caressed her temple. Then they traveled across her cheekbone to her mouth again.

  Rose’s knees were so weak, she was afraid she would sink to the floor. “I need to sit down.”

  With one swift motion, he slipped his arm beneath her knees and picked her up.

  Rose giggled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder. He carried her to a cushioned chair as big as a throne in the corner of the room. He sat down, holding her on his lap.

  She laid one hand on his chest, over his heart, and sighed.

  “Are you tired? You don’t have to do anything but rest for the next week, until we’re wed.”

  Until we’re wed. “That sounds so good.” She closed her eyes, unable to suppress her smile.

  “What did you think of your parents, the Duke and Duchess of Marienberg?”

  Rose sighed again, but not from contentment this time. “I suppose they are fine, elegant people.”

  “Weren’t they kind to you?”

  She fingered the velvet mantle at his neck. Leaning her head back to look at him, she noticed the lock of dark hair that always fell

  across his forehead. She reached up to touch it, running her fingers through it.

  She saw the passionate look in his eyes and pressed her face into his neck, a stab of guilt going through her for the way her body was reacting. “I don’t think we should kiss any more tonight.”

  Rose could feel his pulse against her face. She inhaled his scent, masculine and warm, with a hint of cinnamon from the spiced drink he’d had at the feast. Did he notice that she was avoiding his question?

  “So when did you find out,” he asked, his voice gruff and deep, “that you were my betrothed?”

  “This afternoon. When I woke up I remembered you kissing me—and I started to cry.”

  He hugged her tighter and kissed the top of her head.

  “Then Frau Geruscha told me. She knew I was your betrothed all along and had sworn an oath no
t to tell me until the day my parents came to reunite with me. I don’t know how she kept such a secret all these years. No wonder she didn’t like Lord Rupert coming around.” She shook her head. “My father, the duke, entrusted Frau Geruscha to come here to Hagenheim and find some unobtrusive family to take care of me and raise me as their own. The two dukes had even arranged to have Geruscha become the town healer so she could watch over me. No one else knew my whereabouts. Only your father was aware that Frau Geruscha knew. If something happened to Geruscha, there was a letter in your father’s strongbox that would have explained about me. Frau Geruscha said it made her very nervous when Duke Nicolaus died. No one else knew about the letter.”

  “You were right here, right where I could see you, and fall in love with you, all along. But you broke my heart when you refused to marry me.” His eyelids hung low over his eyes as he squeezed her waist. “I was very angry with you.”

  “But aren’t you glad I didn’t accept your marriage proposal?” she teased. “If you’d abdicated, I’d be betrothed to your brother right now.”

  He growled and poked her ribs just hard enough to make her laugh. But then she remembered the pain of that day and nestled closer to him. “I’m so glad we’re together now.”

  Neither of them spoke as he caressed her cheek. “It must have been a shock for you to find out you had two sets of parents.”

  “I found out by accident a few months ago. I overheard my mother talking. But I never suspected that I was your betrothed, because my birthday—or so I thought—was five weeks before Christmas and the Lady Salomea’s was eleven months earlier. I was a year too young. But Frau Geruscha told me that my parents began counting my birthday from the day I came to live with them—when I was eleven months old.” Tears sprang up at the thought of her birth parents sending her away as a baby to live with strangers, with a mother who may have never loved her.

  “So they didn’t know who you were?”

  “No. Frau Geruscha brought me to them and said it was best they didn’t know. I’m surprised they never wondered. But then, my parents are never ones to question. They do as they’re told and don’t ask why.”

  After a pause, Duke Wilhelm asked again, “The duke and duchess—they weren’t unkind to you, were they?”

  Rose was quiet, trying to sort out her feelings. Finally, she shook her head. “No. But it was an uncomfortable meeting. I’m their daughter, they’re my mother and father, but I don’t know them and they don’t know me. They sent Geruscha here to watch over me and make sure I was safe, but…” She didn’t want to think any painful thoughts, not now. “I’m happy that they’re my parents, because it means I’ll marry you, Wilhelm.” She straightened and looked up at him when she said his name, letting it linger on her tongue, relishing how good it sounded.

  “I suppose I shall have to start calling you Salomea.” He smiled teasingly.

  “I hate that name.” She surprised herself at the vehemence in her voice.

  “Then you’ll always be Rose to me,” he said firmly. He kissed her forehead. “If you wish it, no one shall ever call you Salomea.”

  Rose shook her head as the tears ran down her face. “It isn’t the name.” She tried to choke back the sobs, but it was no use. She pressed her face into his shoulder and wept, her shoulders shaking.

  He gently stroked her back, speaking soothingly next to her ear.

  She finally was able to control herself. “It’s merely that…they gave me away. They couldn’t have loved me.”

  He tightened his arms around her, stroking her shoulder. “I vow to you, Rose, that I will love you so tenderly, you will never feel unloved again.”

  Rose closed her eyes and let the words soak in. She listened to his heart beating, rhythmic and steady beneath her cheek. She had grown up as a woodcutter’s daughter, a nobody. Only Geruscha—and God—had known the truth, and God had made it so her whole world knew her to be Duke Wilhelm’s betrothed—someone, someone who had a rightful place in the castle, in the ruling family. It was as if she’d been transformed in the blink of an eye. No, not transformed. She’d been the daughter of a ruler, a princess all along. She just didn’t realize it.

  A sudden knock at the door made Rose jerk herself upright. Frau Geruscha walked in. Rose tried to stand but Wilhelm held her firmly about the waist, preventing her. Rose’s face heated at the picture they must present to her mistress.

  Frau Geruscha smiled. “I will take Lady Rose to her new chamber, ” she paused, “when she is ready.”

  His hand resting possessively around Rose’s waist, Wilhelm said, “One more moment, if you please, Frau Geruscha.”

  Frau Geruscha bowed and left the room.

  She sank back against his chest and sighed. “You are the best thing that could have happened to me.”

  “And you are the best thing that could have happened to me.”

  Rose breathed a prayer of thanks for the beautiful sunshine streaming through her window on her wedding day.

  She tried not to move as Hildy and several of Duchess Godehard’s maids helped her dress. Of the many fine gowns the duke and duchess had brought her, Rose picked out a lovely pale blue velvet one with elaborately embroidered gold-silk borders at the neckline, down the front, and along the hem. Tiny pearls shimmered in the fitted bodice. Over this gown the maids fastened a velvet robe of royal blue. They left her hair hanging loose, as was the custom for brides, brushing her chestnut waves until they seemed to glow with a light of their own. Then they placed a gold circlet on her head, entwined with white and pink flowers.

  They started to apply paint to her face.

  “What are you doing? What is that?” Rose baulked at the white powdery paint. Wilhelm had never seen her wearing cosmetics, and why should he be shocked today? She consented only to a little lip color.

  Next, they dabbed her with perfume, which smelled pleasant enough, a mixture of flower oils and spices from the Holy Land, they told her. Lastly, for good luck and prosperity, they tied a band of blue ribbon around her wrist.

  She ran down the stairs, happy to be free from so many ministering hands, and entered the Great Hall. Wilhelm stood near the door, his lips pursed, as though impatient with waiting. When he saw her, his expression changed.

  He crossed the room in long strides and took her hand. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, and kissed her fingers. He pulled her close to his side and gazed at her face as though he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

  The joyous procession of family members—most she barely knew—led her and Duke Wilhelm from the Great Hall of Hagenheim Castle through the courtyard and into the cobblestone streets that wound toward Hagenheim Cathedral, where they were joined by throngs of towns people.

  The girls preceding Rose and Wilhelm wore and carried ribbons of all colors. The rainbow of ribbons danced merrily with their movements as the giddy maidens bounced and skipped their way to the church.

  Walking beside her soon-to-be husband, her hand warm in his, Rose hardly noticed the cold air on her cheeks. She couldn’t stop smiling. Wilhelm smiled too, but she noted the tension in the squint of his eyes and knew he’d be glad when the merrymaking was over. The thought made her laugh, remembering what Osanna and Rupert had once said about him not being able to relax and enjoy himself.

  Wilhelm squeezed her hand and eyed her suspiciously. “What’s so amusing?”

  “You could smile a bit more. You don’t look half as happy as your family and guests.”

  He leaned toward her until his forehead touched her temple. “No teasing. Or I’ll stop the procession right here and kiss you into submission.”

  And wouldn’t this crowd love that? She knew how weddings were. Should the couple actually kiss in front of them, the people would cheer and shout lewd suggestions, hoping to persuade them to kiss some more. Wilhelm was bluffing.

  She laughed again. Then she gave him a coy half-grin. “You could try. But I’d rather you waited until no one else was around.”

 
He squeezed her hand hard, but the way he smiled showed he was pleased—and that he looked forward to doing just that.

  Soon they reached the door of the cathedral. The priest stood waiting for them. The merrymakers in front of them melted away and Rose and Wilhelm stood together before the huge stone church.

  Rose’s eyes swam as she stared at the priest, the man who would declare them wed. His expression was solemn and his voice commanding. He asked, “Does anyone present know of any impediments to this marriage?”

  His ominous words dried her tears immediately. She held her breath. What if it was all a mistake? What if she wasn’t really Lady Salomea, Wilhelm’s betrothed? What if the real Lady Salomea suddenly came forward and declared Rose an imposter?

  Silence reigned. The priest cleared his throat, preparing to speak.

  “Do you, Duke Wilhelm Gerstenberg, agree to take this woman, Lady Salomea Godehard as your wife?” Rose began to breathe again. She forced her mind to concentrate on his words.

  “I do,” Wilhelm said.

  “And do you, Lady Salomea, accept this man, Duke Wilhelm, as your husband?”

  More tears flooded her eyes but she quickly blinked them back, glancing at Wilhelm. “I do.” How perfect he looked in his white, goldembroidered sleeves and blue doublet, which deepened the blue of his eyes.

  “I now bless this union by the authority of God and in the presence of these witnesses.” He looked pointedly at Wilhelm. “You may present her the ring.”

  Wilhelm turned to her and reached for her hand. She held it out and he slid the shining silver band onto her finger.

  It was done. They were married. Wilhelm clasped her hands.

  In a daze, Rose allowed him to pull her along behind the priest. They entered the church.

  After celebrating mass, the whole procession headed back the way they came, as lively as they were before, obviously anticipating the feast and celebration awaiting them in the Great Hall.

  Once they were seated at the tables and the feast began, Rose was able to see her parents—Thomas and Enid Roemer—and her sisters and brother sitting nearby. Tears of joy again filled her eyes as she realized she would be able to provide for their needs, to improve their lives, all of their days. Rose also caught a glimpse of Hildy and Gunther, and her friends looked almost as happy as Rose felt.