Fairy Tale Romance Collection

  “Describe him to me, everything you can remember.” He leaned forward, propping his arms on his knees.

  “He’s tall, about your height, very thin, and he has black hair with streaks of white in it. He has a pointed chin and rotten teeth.”

  “Is there anything else?”

  “His eyes were very black, as if something evil was staring out of them.” Rose shrugged. “I suppose that sounds silly.”

  Lord Hamlin shook his head. “Not at all.” He stared at the floor. The silence dragged on as he sat motionless.

  Finally, Rose spoke up. “Were you able to get closer to finding Moncore on your trip?”

  Lord Hamlin sighed then clenched his jaw. “No.” He shook his head. “Every time I go looking for him, I hear he’s in our region again.”

  “What does he looks like?”

  “I’ve only seen him once. He’s tall, with black…hair, mixed with white…and black eyes.”

  Lord Hamlin and Rose stared at each other.

  Frau Geruscha gave a startled little squeak.

  “You don’t suppose…?” Rose didn’t finish her sentence.

  Wilhelm knew what she was thinking, of course. But if Peter Brunckhorst and Moncore were the same person, why would he be after Rose?

  He stood and began pacing the floor. “This Peter Brunckhorst is playing at some sort of deception. Why else would no one know him by that name? Perhaps he and Moncore are one and the same.” He turned to Rose. “What did he say to you when he grabbed you?”

  Rose looked like she was thinking hard. “It didn’t make sense. I’m not sure I can remember. Something about me being the darling of the duke’s family, and about my face giving me away. Just nonsense. He said I wouldn’t get away from him. Then he pulled out a small pouch of powder.” Rose shuddered and wrapped her hands around her arms.

  A thought hit him like a fist between the eyes. What if Rose is Lady Salomea? He turned away from her, covering his eyes so he could think, but his thoughts were racing in a mad circle. He grabbed one and held on. Why else would Moncore want to harm Rose? It made perfect sense. If this Peter Brunckhorst was Moncore, then Rose must be his betrothed.

  There was one way to find out. He and his mother were just discussing this a few days ago. Lady Salomea was eighteen. On her nineteenth birthday, two weeks before Christmas, the Duke of Marienberg planned to take her out of hiding and bring her to Hagenheim for their wedding.

  He spun around to face her. She looked wide-eyed at him. He didn’t doubt that at that moment he probably looked like a wild man.

  He grabbed her arm. “Rose, when is your birthday? How old are you?” His heart stood still while he waited.

  She stammered, “Five weeks before Christmas. I-I’m seventeen.”

  He felt as if he’d just been punched in the stomach. He let go of her arm and stumbled back.

  He should have known. It had been a foolish thought. But now he was reeling from the disappointment. He turned away again so Rose and Frau Geruscha couldn’t watch him as he tried to recover his composure. He leaned his elbow against the stone wall and covered his face with his hand.

  For a moment he’d been the happiest man in the world.

  “Lord Hamlin? Are you all right?”

  Rose peeked around his left side. He looked a bit like he had the day he came in to get his leg sewed up. Why had he asked her how old she was? Was he thinking that she might be his betrothed? Rose would have to think about that later, because he finally opened his eyes.

  His features softened as he held her gaze. He heaved a great sigh. “I’m sorry, Rose,” he whispered. “I wish someone had been there to protect you.”

  “I did reasonably well for myself, I think.”

  He gave her a sad smile. “Yes, you did.”

  There it was again, that something that passed between them when he locked eyes with her. Rose hoped Frau Geruscha didn’t notice it. She immediately thought of Lord Rupert and felt a stab of guilt.

  “I…I’d better go.” Lord Hamlin pushed himself off the wall and stood, towering over her. He seemed taller than his brother, perhaps because he was broader in the shoulders and thicker in the chest. He had a protective, chivalrous aura about him, and Rose wanted to enjoy it, if only for a moment. He had thought, for a moment, that she was his betrothed. She was sure of it. And had been disappointed that she was not. That meant he cared for her, perhaps even loved her. It was such an amazing thought that Rose felt dizzy, and for a moment her vision blurred.

  He surprised her by taking her hand in his. “I’m glad you’re all right.” He said the words softly, almost whispering. Her whole arm tingled at his gentle squeeze.

  “Thank you.” Rose got lost in his dark blue eyes.

  He was getting married soon. She’d have to forget about him then. They couldn’t stare longingly into each other’s eyes anymore. This was the last time. Ever.

  He let go of her hand and walked out the door.

  Why did Frau Geruscha have to be so hard on Lord Rupert?

  Rose stood by while Frau Geruscha bandaged the hand of a young woman who had spilled boiling broth on herself. As Frau Geruscha explained to her how to change the bandage and check for festering, Rose’s mind wandered to Lord Rupert’s visit earlier.

  He had come to see her that morning after prayers, all polite graciousness, smiling and asking after Frau Geruscha’s health. But the frau had glared at him and answered with a monosyllable.

  Was there something her mistress wasn’t telling her about Lord Rupert? She knew he’d done some unprincipled things in his past, but he was very good natured to allow Frau Geruscha to treat him so coldly. After all, he was the son of the duke. He couldn’t be used to that kind of behavior.

  But if Lord Hamlin trusted his brother and believed Lord Rupert wanted to marry her, why wasn’t that good enough for Frau Geruscha?

  She only wished Rupert would ask her to marry him. Surely that would cure Frau Geruscha’s sour attitude toward him. And Rose had decided to accept his offer of marriage, if and when he made it. She had thought she didn’t want to marry, but now she knew that wasn’t true. She wanted to love and be loved, and if Lord Hamlin couldn’t marry her—the very idea he could was absurd—then she would marry Lord Rupert. Lord Rupert loved her, and she was sure she would have little trouble loving him back. As Hildy had told her before, he was everything a woman could want. He was handsome, cheerful, and affectionate. Rose would be happy with him—and Lord Hamlin would be happy too, married to Lady Salomea. Intelligent, mature adults could choose to love the person they were married to, whoever it was. Didn’t the Bible command wives and husbands to love each other? If it was a command, then it was possible. Besides, she was afraid she would never be very good at healing. She wasn’t like Frau Geruscha.

  If he did ask her to marry him, Rose would become Lady Rupert Gerstenberg. Frau Geruscha would be forced to address her as “Lady Rupert.” Was that why Frau Geruscha seemed so determined to convince her that Lord Rupert’s intentions were not honorable? Because she didn’t like the idea of her apprentice taking social precedence over her?

  Rose shook her head. Although it seemed a reasonable explanation, Frau Geruscha had never been prone to such petty feelings. Then why was she so hostile to Lord Rupert’s attentions to her? Shouldn’t Frau Geruscha be happy for Rose and want her to marry him?

  But perhaps Frau Geruscha didn’t believe Lord Rupert intended to marry her. Rose still had moments of disbelief herself, when she doubted his sincerity. But if Lord Hamlin believed it, it must be so. Mustn’t it?

  Her head hurt.

  The next day Lord Rupert met Rose at the well when she went to draw water. He grabbed her hand, turned her toward him, and whispered, “Come away with me, to the orchard. I have something to tell you.”

  “I can’t.” Surely he understood that she could not do such a thing.

  “Please, Rose.” He bent over her hand and planted a kiss on her wrist so hot it seemed to burn her skin. r />
  “Rupert! Oh, I mean, my lord—Lord Rupert—you mustn’t. People may be watching.”

  “Then meet me somewhere they won’t be watching.”

  “I cannot. What if Frau Geruscha found out?”

  “Frau Geruscha! I want to exile her to Byzantium! Is she jealous because someone loves you? Does she want you to be miserable like her?”

  “Please, Lord Rupert, you should not say such things.”

  “Then meet me in the orchard.”

  “But why?”

  He stared down at her, his jaw tightening.

  “All right.” Rose was so confused. If she didn’t go with him, he would be angry with her. If she went and was caught, Frau Geruscha would be angry with her. “I’ll go. But I can only stay for a few minutes.”

  “When?”

  “Now. In two minutes.”

  “Don’t disappoint me.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Rose’s hand shook as she hooked the water bucket to the windlass and turned the handle to fill it. She tried to hurry across the courtyard, sloshing water and marking her path all the way.

  Oh, let Frau Geruscha not be here so I don’t have to explain. But the healer met her at the door.

  “There you are. Thank you for getting the water, Rose. I’m on my way out to visit the shoemaker’s wife, the one who fell and broke her leg. I’ll be back soon.”

  Holding back the relieved smile that started to curl her lips, Rose said, “Yes, Frau Geruscha.”

  Rose went inside but then stuck her head out and watched Frau Geruscha make her way across the courtyard. Once she was out of sight, Rose took off her apron, smoothed back her hair, and, as an afterthought, took Lord Rupert’s bracelet out of her pocket. She put it on her wrist and fastened the clasp.

  She ran out the door and headed for the orchard, with Wolfie at her heels.

  Chapter

  18

  Rose approached the apple orchard that nestled in a small valley overshadowed by the castle.

  Lord Rupert stepped out of the trees with a huge smile on his face. “I wondered if you would leave me waiting here.”

  “I said I would come.”

  He stepped toward her and took her hand. He was dressed impeccably in a white linen shirt, a purple velvet doublet embroidered with white flowers, and black hose. His hair was pulled back and tied with a purple ribbon at the nape of his neck. She certainly couldn’t fault his physical appearance.

  Rose followed him between the apple trees. She breathed in deeply the apple-scented air.

  Finally, Lord Rupert stopped at a fallen tree and motioned for her to sit. He sat next to her on the large trunk, still holding her hand in his. He looked into her face, his eyes wide and expectant. “Rose, tell me your plans for the future. What do you foresee yourself doing for the rest of your life?”

  Rose had not expected him to ask her this, or anything else of such a serious nature. She tried to think. She couldn’t very well tell him the truth—that she hoped to marry him and live in the country.

  “I suppose everyone expects that I will continue to be Frau Geruscha’s apprentice. Then, when she decides I’m capable of doing the healing work on my own, I will take over her work of helping the people of Hagenheim.” Even as she spoke the words, she didn’t truly believe them. For some time now she had been wondering if she’d ever be able to overcome her squeamishness and be a good healer. O God, help me.

  “Is that what you want?” Lord Rupert leaned forward, holding her hand between both of his.

  Rose shook her head in confusion. “I know not. What is it you want me to say?”

  He stroked her hand with his thumb then lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss into her palm.

  A pleasurable, and at the same time uncomfortable, sensation spread all through her, but she had to keep her mind clear.

  “I want you to say you love me, that you want to be with me.”

  Rose pulled her hand out of his grasp, her heart thumping.

  “I think you already know that I love you,” he said. “Do you love me, Rose?”

  Rose looked into his eyes again, wishing she could read his heart there. Her own heart swelled with emotion. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she wasn’t sure she could truthfully say she loved him. “I care for you, and I want to believe you love me.”

  Lord Rupert smiled in a pleased, boyish way.

  “So you brought me here to question me, to make me say things that are improper? What else did you want to ask me? I should think you know everything about me.”

  “Oh, there’s a lot I don’t know about you, Fraulein Rose Roemer. I know you are the most beautiful maiden in the region of Hagenheim, but I’m curious about your mind, what you think.”

  Her eyes widened. No one had ever said such a thing to her before. No one, that is, except Lord Hamlin. He’d even suggested she’d make a good advisor to his father. But she shouldn’t be thinking about him.

  Lord Rupert stood and moved away from her. He wandered over to a tree and leaned his back against it, facing Rose. “What do you think of the Church? Many claim it is corrupt and needs reform. Do you agree?”

  Rose sat straighter. Such a strange question. “I—I would never presume to say such a thing, my lord.”

  “Some say reforms are inevitable, that the pope will be forced to allow priests to marry. What do you think? Do you think priests should marry?” He fixed her with such an intense look, it startled Rose. She had never seen this side of him before.

  Rose drew her brows together in confusion and a little fear. Such conversations could bring dire consequences upon a person. What did he want her to say? “Why are you asking me this?”

  “I truly would like to know what you think, Rose. You’re an intelligent woman. I know you must have an opinion.”

  “I admit,” she said slowly, choosing her words carefully, “there are a few doctrines of the Church that I don’t understand.” She decided it best not to tell him she had read the Holy Scriptures. “But certainly I consider myself a loyal member of the Church.” They gazed at each other for a long moment. “Why? What do you believe?”

  “I believe priests should be allowed to marry.”

  Rose nodded. “I can understand why you would believe so.”

  “You do?” Lord Rupert pushed himself off the tree. His excited expression made her a little nervous.

  “Well, yes. But I’m afraid the pope does not allow it. He does not see the issue as you do.”

  “This is true. But don’t you feel that most people in Hagenheim believe priests should marry and have families, that it’s unnatural for a man to be celibate?”

  How strange that he should be pressing so hard on such a controversial issue. She couldn’t imagine what he was getting at. She shook her head and focused her eyes on a large gray mushroom pushing its way through the decomposing leaves. “I have no idea what most people believe. But you certainly seem to feel very strongly about it.”

  “Let us talk of something else.” He smiled again, seeming to shake free from his seriousness. “I don’t want to waste our precious time together. It’s enough for me to know that you care for me.” He strolled over and held his hands out to her. “I told you I had something to tell you, remember?” As he sat, he took her hand in his again, his expression smug. “I have arranged for your family to move from their little house in the forest to a much better one, inside Hagenheim. The old Bernward house. They’ll love it, Rose. It has three stories and seven rooms and a large fireplace, much better than that smoky one-room cottage.”

  Rose’s heart thumped erratically again. She knew the house he meant, the home of a wealthy bachelor who’d died without an heir. Suspicion stiffened her spine and she snatched her hands away. “And if you give my family this house, what am I supposed to give you in return?” Her cheeks burned.

  Lord Rupert threw his arms outward. “Nothing. Why, Rose, do you doubt me so readily? Do you think me a villain who only wants to take
advantage of you?” He raised his brows triumphantly. “To prove to you how much I respect you, that I don’t expect what you’ve insinuated, I’ve given them the house already. I sent servants there early this morning to help them move their things.”

  He grabbed her hand and held it more firmly, preventing her from pulling away.

  She pressed her lips together so hard it hurt. That didn’t prove anything. She tried to read his face, waiting for an explanation.

  “Rose, please don’t doubt me anymore. I only wanted to please you. I wanted to do something for your family, simply because they are your family. Is that so wrong?”

  She wanted to believe his words. “So, without questioning, my parents simply moved from the cottage my father built in the glen to a fine house in town that he had no part in building or paying for?”

  “They did.”

  Rose found it hard to breathe as she considered what her parents must think. She was sure they’d heard the rumors about her and Lord Rupert, about the inordinate attention he’d been paying her. This unlikely “gift” must have all but confirmed that she was Lord Rupert’s mistress. Tears stung her eyes. “Are you trying to shred my reputation, because you must be able to imagine what people will say—”

  “I care not what people will say.”

  “You should care.” Rose stood suddenly and yanked her hand from his grasp before he had time to react. “You should care about my reputation, at least.” Her arms and legs felt weak from the emotion that raged through her.

  Lord Rupert stood too. “Rose, please. I meant no harm. I only did it to help. Please forgive me for being thoughtless. I didn’t think about how it would look to all the mean, petty people who want to think ill of us.”

  He seemed more angry than contrite. Confusion scattered her thoughts as she watched him.

  “It was simply an act of kindness. Why should we care what people think? Isn’t it more important that your family is safer and more comfortable in their new home?”