Rose burst out of the trees and into the meadow near town. Wolfie came running by, finally catching up to her. Rose walked faster, anxious to get home.
She clenched her fists. Lord Hamlin was no different from other nobles. She should have known.
Perhaps Lord Rupert was the one who was different. Could he truly want to marry her? Lord Hamlin might be arrogant, but he wouldn’t lie about such a thing. After all, he’d practically written a proclamation that all men should stay away from her. Now he was trying to convince her that Rupert loved her and wanted to marry her.
She took a deep breath, contemplating this. Was such a thing possible? Lord Rupert so in love with her that he was willing to give up wealth and prestige? He was handsome, and the way he looked at her and spoke to her made her feel beautiful. If he truly wished to marry her, if he truly loved her…To be loved, truly loved, by the handsome son of a duke…It didn’t seem possible.
When Rose reached the town gate, she turned to look for Wolfie. There he was, walking beside Lord Hamlin.
So Lord Hamlin had followed her.
She expelled a burst of air. I don’t need you, Lord Holier-Than-Thou. Go marry your Lady Salomea, a woman you’ve never even seen.
The ungracious thought brought on a pang of guilt. After all, he’d been a good friend to her, and she had promised to pray for him to find the conjurer. Well, she would stay angry at him for a little while, but she would get over it. Then she would pray for him.
Lord Hamlin went away. And for the two weeks preceding Midsummer’s Eve, Rupert came to Frau Geruscha’s chambers almost daily to speak to Rose. He even contrived to take her on another riding lesson, teaching her how to slow her horse gradually to a stop. Every time his face appeared in the doorway, her heart would trip excitedly. But Frau Geruscha didn’t make it easy for her to enjoy his visits, with her glowering looks and unfriendly stares.
One day he found her alone, as Frau Geruscha had just left on an errand. Rose suspected he’d been watching the door, waiting for her mistress to leave.
He came inside and seized her hands, an excited glint in his eyes. “I have something for you.” He reached inside a small purse that hung at his waist and pulled out something shiny and silver. Her heart thumped against her chest as he draped the chain around her wrist and fastened the clasp.
“It’s beautiful,” Rose breathed. The bracelet gave her arm a delicate, feminine look and felt cool and smooth against her skin. The beautifully crafted silver rings of the bracelet caught the light. Her first piece of jewelry.
“Do you like it?” he asked softly.
“I’ve never seen anything so lovely.”
He still held her hands. His eyelids closed as he bowed low and pressed his lips against the bracelet. He then kissed the back of her hand. His lips lingered. Rose’s heart skipped erratically.
She had never been kissed before, not even on her hand. She knew Rupert’s actions were very inappropriate, but her face tingled and her mind registered how good and soft and warm his lips felt.
If Frau Geruscha should come in now and see them, Rose would be in deep trouble. She wasn’t sure what her mistress would do, but it would certainly be unpleasant. Things had already changed between them. Frau Geruscha’s manner had cooled toward her since Rose had not heeded her advice to tell Lord Rupert to stay away.
Rose took a step back, and Rupert looked up, still holding onto her hand. He drew her palm against his chest, pressing it over his heart. His eyelids drooped, darkening his light blue eyes. “Do you feel it? My heart beats for you, Rose.”
Rose frowned at his drama, even as her cheeks burned. She gently pulled her hand away and retreated a couple of steps, trying to calm her racing heart.
Neither of them spoke or even moved. After several moments, Lord Rupert broke the silence. “Midsummer’s Eve is tomorrow and I’ve planned a surprise for you.”
“Please, sit down.” She swept her hand toward a wooden chair in the corner. Perhaps if he was seated she could force him to keep his distance.
He picked up the chair and carried it to her desk, placing his chair next to hers.
She leaned away and tried to sound lighthearted. “So what is my surprise?”
“Oh, I can’t tell you all of it. Just that you must sit with me at the feast tomorrow. Then you must go with me to the Marktplatz for the festival fires and dancing.”
“Must?” Rose stared him down.
Lord Rupert placed his hand over his heart and sighed. “Will you please accompany me tomorrow”—he lowered his voice to a husky whisper—“my dearest, sweetest, most beautiful Rose?” An intense light glowed in his eyes.
“Yes.” She gazed into his face until she realized she was staring at his lips and he was staring at hers.
“What’s this?”
Rose jumped to her feet, a guilty, prickly sensation washing over her at seeing Frau Geruscha enter the room. She remembered the bracelet and stuck her hand behind her back.
“Frau Geruscha, good morning. How are you this fine day?”
Rose marveled at Lord Rupert’s calm greeting. Frau Geruscha’s disapproval never ruffled his cool demeanor.
“Well, I thank you.” Her voice sounded icy.
Although both Lady Osanna and Lord Hamlin seemed to have changed their minds and now approved of Lord Rupert’s attentions toward her, he certainly hadn’t won Frau Geruscha over. Her arms full of yarrow root, she turned abruptly and disappeared into the storage room.
Lord Rupert leaned toward Rose and whispered, “I’ll come for you at ten o’clock in the morning for the feast.” He grabbed her hand and gave it a quick kiss. With a wink, he strode across the floor and out the door.
She slipped off the bracelet and dropped it into her apron pocket.
Rose woke early to attend the special St. John’s Day service at the cathedral. Participating in the Midsummer Eve festivities always made her feel guilty unless she first went to church to celebrate John the Baptist.
She stared at the new dress hanging in her room, the one she’d had made, using the salary she was receiving as a healer’s apprentice. It was damask, a beautiful shade of emerald green, trimmed with a wide band of gold silk at the hem. More gold silk formed a feminine collar that widened at the shoulders. The sleeves were fitted, as was the bodice, and the skirt contained so much material she had to hold it up to walk. She longed to wear the new dress, but she put on her old crimson one instead. She would change later, before attending the feast at the castle.
An hour later Rose entered the Hagenheim Cathedral and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. Gradually, the flickering candles illuminated the long, high-ceilinged hall. She crossed herself and genuflected, facing the crucifix. Rose found her family members, who were kneeling in their usual spot, and bowed her head in prayer.
A slight shuffling noise to her right caught her attention. She glanced up. Lord Rupert was coming toward her, quickly closing the gap between them. He knelt beside her, then winked.
What was he doing here? Rarely did any of the duke’s family members come to the cathedral to worship. They attended their own chapel within the castle courtyard.
Lord Rupert seemed determined to make his feelings for her known. She couldn’t help thinking that if Lord Hamlin had the misfortune to fall in love with a woodcutter’s daughter, he would be too proud to publicize it. No, he’d rather marry the daughter of a duke, someone of his own class.
But why was she thinking about him? She mentally shoved him away.
Lord Rupert moved a fraction closer and Rose smiled. Could it be true, what Lord Hamlin said? Did Lord Rupert intend to marry her? From his behavior, how could she doubt it? But whether he was in love with her or not, she shouldn’t have accepted the bracelet from him. Frau Geruscha would be shocked at such a lapse. Her conscience pricked her.
Rose tried to concentrate on the priest’s words, but with Lord Rupert’s tall frame looming so near, her mind wandered. What would his promised surprise be? She hoped
whatever it was, it wouldn’t upset Frau Geruscha.
Her mistress’s behavior was unreasonable. After all, Lord Rupert had been respectful and chivalrous so far. Yet, witnessing the piercing looks Frau Geruscha gave when Rose was with him, she always felt as if he—and she—were doing something wrong. She was glad Frau Geruscha couldn’t see him with her now.
When the service ended, Lord Rupert leaned closer to her. “Keep praying,” he whispered.
Most of the worshipers made their way through the long sanctuary to the back of the church and exited the building. In a matter of moments they were alone, except for a few people who were lighting candles near the altar. Rose kept her head bowed. Perhaps she should leave. Surely it was a sin to pretend to pray in order to be alone with a man.
She glanced up at him. His gaze was so intent, his smile so knowing, she finally whispered, “What is it?”
“I simply love looking at you.”
She tried without success to think of something to say. Instead she stood, and he also rose.
She opened her mouth to speak and he bent low, bringing his face to within a hand’s breadth of hers. “I don’t think you should come to Frau Geruscha’s chambers for me,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the courtyard, at the well.”
“As you wish. I’ll meet you there at ten o’clock. But can’t we stay here for a few minutes and talk?” He motioned toward a bench that stood against the wall.
“I don’t think we should.” Rose glanced around to see who might have already spotted them together. He stood so close that she cringed at the thought of the priest’s glare should he spy them. And what would other people think? They would assume Lord Rupert and she were having a sinful liaison, so far apart were their social positions.
She gave him a smile and rushed out before he could protest.
“Ten o’clock,” he called.
Rose turned just long enough to nod at him.
She’d left Wolfie at the castle, since she couldn’t bring him into church. It felt strange to walk alone, without her constant companion. She made her way down the street, feeling the hard, uneven cobblestones through her thin slippers. Breathing deeply of the morning air, she realized she was smiling to herself. How good it had felt to look up and see Lord Rupert beside her. How good he had looked, in his white shirt, his smile warming her to her toes.
How good it felt to be loved.
Rose kept her eyes on the cobblestones, not really seeing the road at all. When a shadow fell across her path, she looked up. A man, tall and angular underneath his long black robe, stood in her path. His eyes raked her up and down.
Peter Brunckhorst.
She stopped short, but he stepped forward and grabbed her arm. He started to drag her toward a narrow alley between two shoemaker shops.
“Let go!” Rose started to scream, but he clamped his hand over her mouth, crushing her lips against her teeth, his fingertips digging into her face. Where was everyone? The street was deserted.
Rose stared into his small black eyes. She had to get away. Her heart pounded painfully against her chest. His rotten breath huffed on the back of her neck. She tried to turn her head but his grip was too strong.
Since he’d stopped just out of plain sight of the street, in the edge of the alley, she decided to bide her time and see what he planned to do. She could kick and claw him, but he was too strong. He would simply overpower her. And he might drag her down the alley where no one would be able to see or hear her struggling.
His hand continued to crush her face. She tasted blood from her teeth cutting the inside of her mouth. Desperation and a compulsion to fight back swelled inside her. She breathed through her nose in order to stay conscious while she calculated how she could hurt him the most.
“You think you’re the darling of the duke’s family now, do you?” He hissed in her ear. “Well, I’ve had my eye on you. Your pretty face gives you away.” The corners of his mouth curled back in a sneer.
What was he talking about? He must be a lunatic. She started to feel dizzy as she struggled to breathe.
“You won’t get away from me. And when you least expect it, I’ll come for you. You can’t escape the destiny I have planned for you.” His sinister grin grew, and he turned her, pulling her against his chest, still holding her by her face. He let go of her arm with his other hand and pulled something out of his pocket. It looked like a small pouch. He started speaking in a strange tongue, chanting in a strained, hollow voice. He opened the pouch with his teeth and sprinkled a gray-green powder over her head.
He’d let go with one hand. This was her opportunity to act. She twisted her body as violently as she could, catching him off guard. Then she slammed her elbow into his throat.
His grip loosened. Rose jerked forward, freeing herself. She grabbed her skirt and ran out of the alley. Her heart beat so hard it hurt her chest but she didn’t slow her pace. She tried to listen for footsteps behind her. But she could only hear the pounding of blood in her ears, keeping time with her feet on the cobblestones.
Chapter 12
She ran until she passed through the castle gate, across the courtyard, and into the chambers of the southwest tower, slamming the heavy door behind her. Gasping for breath, she sank, trembling, onto a nearby bench, then to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself. She sucked in the stale air like someone who had just survived drowning.
“O God, thank you for saving me…O Jesus…O God.”
“Rose?” Frau Geruscha’s voice seemed dim and far away. “Rose, what in the world—”
She felt hands on her arms and looked up. Dazed, she concentrated on Frau Geruscha’s face. “He grabbed me. But he didn’t hurt me. I’m not hurt.”
Frau Geruscha lifted her and helped her sit on the bench. “Who? Tell me everything. What happened?” Frau Geruscha’s voice sounded tight.
Rose took a deep breath. “I was walking from the cathedral after the service and Peter Brunckhorst was standing in front of me.”
“Peter Brunckhorst? Who is that?”
“The wool merchant my mother wants me to marry. He was standing in front of me and grabbed me.” Rose’s voice began to quiver. “He put his hand over my mouth and dragged me into the alley.” A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. Her hands trembled like a butterfly’s wings. “I hit him in the throat with my elbow and ran away.”
“Oh, my dear.” Frau Geruscha wrapped her arms around her. “You’re safe now. We’ll take care of this, don’t you worry. The duke does not let incidents like this go unpunished.” She said the last sentence with extra feeling and pulled away to look in Rose’s face. “I’m so proud of you for getting away.”
Rose blinked back tears. Her mistress was proud of her. “Thank God he didn’t hurt me.”
Frau Geruscha stared at her hard. “Where did he grab you? Was it here?” She touched Rose’s face.
“Yes.” She had a terrible thought. “There isn’t a bruise, is there?”
“Three fingerprints.” Frau Geruscha’s face grew taut. Fury flashed from her eyes.
Accompanying Lord Rupert to the feast, sitting beside him with bruises on her face. How embarrassing.
“I could kill him with my bare hands.”
Rose stared at Frau Geruscha in shock. If Frau Geruscha felt that way, how would Lord Rupert react? She would have to tell him, she supposed, to explain the bruises. Would the same look of fury come over his face? Did he care enough about her to be that upset?
She tested her jaw by opening her mouth, feeling the soreness, remembering for a moment the raw fear that had swept over her when the man grabbed her. The memory of his black eyes boring into her caused a shudder to pass through her. What had he wanted? His words hadn’t made sense.
“I shall speak with Duke Nicolaus’s bailiff this moment. And the duke himself, if possible.” Frau Geruscha stood. She started toward the door, then looked back at Rose. “You stay here.”
Rose waited anxiously f
or Frau Geruscha. It was nearing ten o’clock, but she couldn’t leave to go meet Lord Rupert until her mistress came back. She rubbed her arms up and down and tried not to think about the man’s face. But his cold eyes and twisted mouth appeared whenever she closed her eyes.
What would be done to him? A common punishment for violent crime was hanging. Could Peter Brunckhorst be hanged for what he had done to her? Probably not. Perhaps they would banish him from the region. She would never have to see him again.
Just as she began to pace the room, Frau Geruscha stepped in the door. “Well, that will be well taken care of, I have no doubt.” She sighed and sank on the bench. “I spoke to Bailiff Eckehart. He doesn’t know a Peter Brunckhorst, but he promised that he and his men would find him. They will imprison him in the dungeon until he can be sentenced by the duke.” She crossed her arms with a satisfied look on her face.
“Thank you, Frau Geruscha.” Rose hugged her.
“Now don’t let this frighten you too much, Rose. You go ahead and attend the Midsummer’s Eve festival tonight. I’m sure Hildy will be with you.”
“Yes, she will.” Rose hesitated for a moment. “And Lord Rupert has invited me to join his family for their St. John’s Day feast.”
Frau Geruscha gave her a sharp look. After a momentary silence, she said, “What do you think about Lord Rupert and his attentions to you, Rose?”
Rose thought carefully before speaking. “At first I didn’t believe he was sincere. But now I think he is. He told Lord Hamlin that he loved me. Lord Hamlin believes his brother wants to marry me.”
Frau Geruscha’s mouth fell open and her brows came down in a way that made Rose’s stomach twist into a knot. Frau Geruscha turned away and walked to the window. After standing there for several minutes, she began to shake her head back and forth.
“Oh, please don’t disapprove of Lord Rupert, Frau Geruscha. Surely you see that he is the best thing that could ever happen to me. I’ll be able to help my family if I marry him.”
Frau Geruscha turned from the window and faced her. Was she angry—or sad? Rose couldn’t tell.