Rose could hardly believe the son of the duke and territorial prince had asked her to dance. Most people attending this dance would not even be seen speaking with someone like her.
She looked uncertainly at Frau Geruscha. “Did I do the right thing, agreeing to dance with him?”
“Yes, my dear.” The frosty look did not leave her mistress’s face, and she raised her eyebrows at Rose. “Be careful, though. Young Lord Rupert has a reputation for debauchery. You aren’t to leave this room with him, do you understand?”
Rose swallowed. “Yes, Frau Geruscha.”
Frau Geruscha’s shoulders relaxed. “I don’t mean to frighten you, child. You’re perfectly safe. Lord Rupert is sometimes careless with his attentions, and I simply want to put you on your guard. Go ahead and dance. Have a good time.”
Rose drew courage from her mistress’s smile. She glanced around the room and caught a wealthy yarn merchant’s wife staring at her. The woman’s eyes darted back to her companion, the wife of the butchers’ guild president. They were probably discussing their wonder at Lord Rupert coming to talk to her. What would they say when they saw them dancing together?
An older woman approached Frau Geruscha and began to talk about an ailment, something about a pain in her side. They moved away as the woman’s voice grew low and confidential.
Rose watched the dancers twirling in time to the music. She caught glimpses of Lord Hamlin as the guests bobbed back and forth between her and the musicians. Some girls standing several feet away were staring at Rose. When she looked at them, they burst into giggles.
Her stomach twisted into a nervous knot. She continued to scan the room but saw no friendly face. She decided to focus on her surroundings and practice describing them to Hildy.
Colorful tapestries, as well as several banners and flags, hung above a wooden table and on the center of the wall opposite the door. Some of the flags were battle-scarred, others were bright and perfect. One displayed the Gerstenberg coat of arms. The others were variations on the family colors of red, gold, and green.
Rose was most intrigued by a scene painted on the stone wall, stretching the whole length of the room. She strolled closer to get a better look. Knights in armor sat astride sleek horses. Gray hunting dogs ran ahead of them. Some knights jousted while others knelt before ladies in pale, flowing gowns with voluminous pointed sleeves that hung to the ground. A stream and a lake, along with mountains and a forest, graced the background.
She was admiring the beautiful fresco when she saw Lord Rupert approach.
“This was commissioned by my great-grandfather, Bertolf,” he said, coming to stand at her left elbow. He pointed to a man in the picture whose head was bared, his helmet by his feet. He had Lord Rupert’s rather long chin. “That is he, Bertolf Gerstenberg. And this one here is my grandfather, Conrad.” He pointed to a younger man standing nearby with a shield in one hand and a lance in the other.
Just then Lady Osanna joined them, standing beside her brother. Rose couldn’t help admiring her sea-green gown trimmed in gold. Her eyes matched her dress, the cut of which enhanced her slim waist and delicate shoulders. Her light brown hair was tightly braided and wound into a bun at the back of her head, covered by a net of gold thread.
“It’s good to see you again, Rose.” Lady Osanna clasped Rose’s hand. “You look beautiful.”
“As do you.”
“I see you’ve met my rogue brother.” She shifted her eyes toward Rupert.
Lord Rupert feigned an indignant look. “Pay no attention to such flippant remarks.”
Lady Osanna grinned as the song ended and the dancers began to arrange themselves into two lines. She inclined her head toward Lord Rupert. “I believe my brother wishes to dance with you, Rose. When you’re finished, I shall introduce you to Lady Anne.”
“It would be my pleasure.” Rose said the words automatically then realized they weren’t exactly true.
Lord Rupert held his hand out to Rose, looking impatient to be off to the dance. She placed her hand on his forearm and allowed him to lead her. They fell in line with the others, Rose beside the ladies and Lord Rupert beside the men, the two lines facing each other. She was surprised her knees weren’t buckling underneath her as she prepared to dance the Carolingian Pavane with Lord Rupert.
The music and the dance began.
I wish I were dancing with Lord Hamlin.
The unbidden thought made her catch her breath. She tried to ignore it and concentrate on the steps.
Lord Rupert never once glanced away to look at his feet or at any of the other dancers, but kept his eyes focused on her face. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was truly enamored of her.
They came to the part of the dance where the men had to kneel while their partners danced around them in a tight circle. Lord Rupert went down on one knee so quickly it startled Rose. His head tilted up to her, and he placed his hand over his heart. His eyes held hers.
Rose’s heart skipped a beat at his flirtatious look. Of course, that’s all it was. He was flirting with her, and after the dance was over he’d go dally with someone else. This was his way of enjoying himself at a party, no doubt.
Rose danced around Lord Rupert then took her place in front of him. Now it was his turn. She stood still as he began his slow dance around her.
Her insides were quaking again. Everyone was staring at them, the woodcutter’s daughter and the only eligible son of the ruling prince of Hagenheim. She took a quick peek at the musicians. Lord Hamlin was looking down at his lute. He lifted his head and Rose quickly looked away, not wanting to see his reaction.
When the dance was over, Lord Rupert took her hand and bowed over it, gazing up into her eyes. “I thank you, dearest Rose, for dancing with me. You are a most…delightful…partner.” He tucked her hand inside his elbow. “Come. Let me introduce you to my mother. She’s anxious to meet you.”
Rose resisted the urge to bolt for the door. Instead, she walked slowly, as Frau Geruscha had taught her, with her shoulders back and her chin high.
Heads turned as they walked by, but Rose looked straight ahead, too afraid of what she would see in the guests’ faces. When she glanced up at Lord Rupert, he smiled.
The duchess stood conversing with Osanna and Lady Anne. They turned to face Lord Rupert and Rose as they approached.
“Mother,” Lord Rupert said, “I would like to present Rose, our gifted healer and storyteller.”
“I am delighted to meet you, Rose.” The duchess took Rose’s hand from Lord Rupert.
“Your Grace.” Rose curtsied, her heart in her throat.
“I wish to thank you for your service to Lord Hamlin.” There was a coldness in the woman’s eyes that did not match the graciousness of her words.
“It is my pleasure to serve.”
“Lady Anne, this is Rose. She is our healer’s apprentice. Rose, this is Lady Anne, daughter of Alfred, Duke of Schweitzer.”
“A healer’s apprentice. That sounds like interesting work.” Lady Anne was as tall as Rose, rather attractive, with delicate features. Her skin was so pale it was transparent, revealing bluish veins between her eyes and on her neck. A small cap hid most of her light brown hair, and little gold bells dangled from a belt around her waist.
Rose recalled Hildy telling her that bells were very much in fashion.
“I hope you will like it here at Hagenheim Castle,” Rose said.
“I thank you.” Lady Anne smiled back.
At least she wasn’t cold or haughty, if she did turn out to be Lord Hamlin’s betrothed in disguise.
“Rupert.” The duchess’s face brightened. “I insist you take Lady Anne as your partner for the next dance. Go and be a good host to our guest.”
Lord Rupert hesitated, glancing at Rose. She hoped he didn’t anger his mother by slighting Lady Anne—especially on her account.
Finally, he held out his hand to Lady Anne.
Lady Anne smiled and took his hand. He looked back
at Rose, but she avoided his gaze and focused on Lady Osanna and her mother. Lady Anne’s bells jingled as she and Rupert crossed the room to join the dance.
Just then a young man in a fashionably cut doublet and enormous puffed sleeves approached Lady Osanna. “Will you honor me with this dance?”
“Yes, I thank you.” Lady Osanna turned to Rose. “Pray excuse me, Rose.” They hurried away as the music started.
The duchess folded her hands over her waist and faced Rose, boring into her with blue-gray eyes. “I trust you are enjoying yourself?”
“Yes, your grace. I enjoy music and dancing.” Rose’s head started to ache, whether from holding up her hair, or from the strain of trying not to say or do anything wrong in front of the duchess, she wasn’t sure.
“Let me introduce you to some people.” The duchess’s glance settled on a red haired young man standing alone. She beckoned him with a slight “come hither” movement of her fingers.
The young man arrived with a bow. The pleasant smile on his freckled face put Rose at ease. “Your Grace.”
“Gunther, I’d like you to meet Rose, Frau Geruscha’s new apprentice. Rose, this is Gunther Schoff. His father is a scribe.”
She said those last words so archly, Rose was sure she meant, “This young man is closer to your social status.”
“How do you do?” Rose said.
“Most pleased.” He bowed politely. “I’ve always been interested in the healing arts.”
“I’m afraid I’m still new to the practice. Frau Geruscha is just beginning to teach me.”
“I’m sure you already know quite a lot. But since I seem to be healthy today and have no medicinal needs, would you like to dance? I don’t think it’s too late to join.”
Rose smiled at his gracious speech.
“Oh, no, it isn’t too late.” The duchess flicked her wrist. “Go on.”
Gunther crooked his elbow and Rose took his arm. As they scurried away, Rose let out a deep breath at having escaped the duchess. Gratitude warmed her to Gunther.
The dance was the Black Almain. Gunther seemed to know it well, and his movements were smooth and graceful. Friendliness, as if absent of any ulterior motive, showed on his face. His chivalrous manner impressed Rose. She felt much more comfortable with him than with Lord Rupert.
She wondered if Hildy liked red hair. He was just the right height for Hildy too.
Lord Rupert and Anne danced several couples away, but Rose noticed out of the corner of her eye that Lord Rupert was looking at her. She ignored him and enjoyed the beauty and rhythm of the music. She wanted to glance at the musicians, but didn’t.
When the dance was over, she and Gunther moved to a vacant spot near the wall while Lord Rupert and Lady Anne remained on the dance floor. They chatted about astronomy and mathematics, of which Gunther was very knowledgeable, having studied at a monastery for two years. He had also studied illumination, and Lord Hamlin had promised him a position illustrating the texts the duke’s scribes were copying. He was polite and well-spoken, and Rose knew she had made a new friend. Perhaps this night would not be so bad after all.
She and Gunther watched Lord Rupert and Lady Anne, her bells making almost as much noise as the musicians’ instruments, dance a branle known as Toss the Duchess. The dancers formed a large circle and frequently changed partners.
Gunther asked Rose about her apprenticeship, and their conversation turned to herbs and their benefits. She didn’t notice that the dance had ended until Lord Rupert stood by her side.
“May I claim you, Rose, for the next dance?”
“Yes, of course.” Rose tried not to show her astonishment at him asking her to dance a second time, especially after his mother’s obvious disapproval.
Lord Rupert led her onto the dance floor for the Maltese Branle, a lively dance in which the dancers raised their hands high in the air and clapped three times before spinning and doubling back. She tried to forget that her partner was Duke Nicolaus’s son and just lose herself in the activity. But he continued to stare at her, unnerving her with the look in his eyes, which did strange things to her heartbeat.
When the dance ended, instead of walking away to take a break, Lord Rupert asked her to dance again. Rose agreed. She wasn’t sure if she could say no.
“Did I tell you how lovely you look this evening?” Lord Rupert’s hand rested lightly on her arm as he leaned down. His pale blue eyes sparkled in a flicker of torchlight.
“I thank you.” Rose refused to take him too seriously, remembering Frau Geruscha’s warning. She glanced away, and when she did, her eyes connected with Lord Hamlin’s where he sat with the musicians. The corners of his mouth went up in a resigned expression. Sadness shone from his eyes.
Lord Hamlin must think I’m flirting with Lord Rupert. But I’m not the one flirting—he is! Rose blushed. Perhaps he disapproved of her dancing with his brother. Or perhaps he disapproved of her for the same reason his mother did, because any relationship between them was unseemly, as his family intended him to marry an heiress.
Suddenly, she didn’t care about anything. Lord Hamlin was betrothed, the duchess was sending Lord Rupert disgusted looks, and all the young maidens at the dance were glaring at her. She would be oblivious to them all. A handsome man was paying attention to her, inviting her to dance, and she meant to enjoy it.
Rose flashed a smile at Lord Rupert as they got ready for the next dance. The music started and she recognized the Bassadanza, the slowest dance of all. Lord Rupert took Rose’s hand and they stepped forward, passing and turning to face each other. Rose met his gaze with equal boldness now as they repeatedly brushed shoulders, dancing close, rising on their toes then backing away, only to step forward again.
Rose felt a sensation of power swell in her chest as Lord Rupert’s eyes never left hers. He seemed to drown in her presence, as though they were the only two people in the room. Could he truly fall in love with her?
Perhaps a more pertinent question was, could Lord Rupert, son of a powerful prince of the Holy Roman Empire, wed anyone he pleased—even Rose? From his mother’s reactions tonight, perhaps that was exactly what the duchess was afraid of. The only thing he stood to inherit was a manor house and farm within a half-day’s ride from the castle. Rose, on the other hand, was as poor as—as a woodcutter’s daughter. How could he ever think of marrying her?
Marriage was surely the last thing on Lord Rupert’s mind, but she didn’t care. She would enjoy this moment. She refused to think about the probability that Lord Rupert wanted the selfsame thing the black-smith’s son wanted.
The dance ended, but Lord Rupert didn’t let go of her hand. He didn’t move, either, as he stared into her eyes. “I must have you sit with me at the feast.”
She had not expected this. “I’m…not sure that would be appropriate. Your mother—”
“I will arrange it with Mother. You will be my dinner partner.”
The person in question was coming their way. Rose leaned away from Lord Rupert, pulling her hand free.
“Rose.” The duchess’s eyes pierced her then turned on Lord Rupert. She placed her hand on his arm. “Rupert, you must dance with more of our guests.” She turned to Rose for a moment. “You understand, of course. He has obligations.”
“Of course.” Rose curtsied as the duchess led Lord Rupert away.
He looked back at her, and his expression said, “I shall return.”
Rose clasped her hands together, trying to squeeze out her nervousness as she remembered the duchess’s cold stare and Lord Rupert’s determination to have her sit with him. How awkward. Her heart fluttered. She took in the Great Hall in a sweeping glance, trying to get her mind off the conflict she was causing.
Everyone seemed small, swishing around the enormous hall in their colorful clothes. The torches reached upward with bright tongues of light, the flags were majestic, and the marble floor was as elegant and smooth as the silk garments floating above it. Rose stared again at the wall but didn
’t see it. She was thinking of the dances, the way her lungs had filled with air and her body floated as she’d executed the steps—correctly too, thank goodness. And she thought of Lord Rupert, his attentiveness, the look in his eyes.
“Rose?”
She turned. “Lord Hamlin.” Her heart seemed to stick in her throat as she curtsied.
“I saw you dancing. I hope you’re enjoying the ball.”
She swallowed, trying to push her heart back down where it belonged. “Oh, yes, and the music is heavenly. I thank you. Please tell the other musicians that I think they are wonderful.”
“I will. I’m sure they’ll be pleased.” He looked at her intently. His dark blue eyes seemed more brilliant than ever, and his suntanned face contrasted handsomely with his white shirt and sleeveless sapphire doublet. “Will you honor me with the next dance?”
Me? Rose swallowed. “Yes.”
Her knees shook as they joined the dancers. The musicians began to play and the large human circle moved in unison. His hand was warm around hers, sending a tingle through her arm that spread additional warmth all through her. All thoughts of Lord Rupert disappeared from her head.
Since the song being played was a carol, all the dancers were expected to sing. She couldn’t help but close her eyes for a moment in pleasure at hearing Lord Hamlin’s voice, so deep, rich and masculine, and perfectly in tune.
They stepped to the left, then to the right, forward and then back. Rose was so aware of his hand holding hers, of his closeness, that she couldn’t utter a sound. Lord Hamlin glanced at her, and his gentle look made her heart twist. She wished the dance would never end.
But it did, and Lord Hamlin turned to her, gently releasing her hand. To cover her nervousness, she gave her voice a teasing tone. “I thought you said you couldn’t sing. In fact, you sing very well.”
“I thank you.” He smiled at her, and her legs seemed to melt. He had such an earnest, sincere expression on his face, and Rose couldn’t imagine worrying that Lord Hamlin’s intentions were immoral.
People were beginning to form two lines for another almain.