Frau Geruscha turned from the window and faced her. Was she angry—or sad? Rose couldn’t tell.
“Oh, my precious Rose. Please believe me when I tell you that Lord Rupert is not part of your future happiness. I want to help you, but you must make wise decisions and not try to take matters into your own hands.” She crossed the room and laid her hands on Rose’s shoulders. “Promise me.”
“Promise you?”
“Promise me that you won’t make rash decisions when it comes to Lord Rupert, that you won’t allow yourself to succumb to his persuasiveness to do something you might later be ashamed of. Ask God to lead you in this matter.”
Something I might be ashamed of? Rose tried not to feel offended at Geruscha’s insinuation. “I promise.”
“All right, then.” She let go of Rose’s shoulders. “I hear the cathedral bells striking ten o’clock. Go on now and enjoy yourself.”
Rose quickly changed into her new dress and hastened to the well. She wished she weren’t on her way to a feast, about to face a crowd of people. She smiled when she saw Lord Rupert approaching.
He looked distracted, glancing around the courtyard. He took in her new dress in one swift glance. “You look beautiful. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
He started to look away then his eyes snapped back and settled on her cheek. He frowned. “What happened to your face?”
Her smile disappeared. So it was noticeable. She hadn’t wanted to tell him about it while standing in the castle courtyard where people might be watching.
He looked away, scanning the courtyard again.
No one was near, so Rose began, “Something happened after I left the cathedral this morning. A man—”
“Hey, Gebehart! Ludwig!” Lord Rupert shouted, staring past her. He motioned with his hand and two men started toward them. “Where are the rest?”
Lord Rupert took a couple of steps away from her to converse with the two men. He motioned toward the castle, and the men started off in that direction. He turned back to Rose.
“Now what did you say? Something happened?”
He reached a hand toward her face, but she pulled back, not willing to let him caress her cheek in public. “Can I tell you about this later?”
“Of course.”
With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she followed him toward the door at the center of the castle. She wasn’t sure what she had expected from him—perhaps some concern?
She took a deep breath. She would tell him later, when he wasn’t distracted. After he had heard her story, he would be furious that someone had done such a thing to her. She imagined him overcome with emotion, vowing to keep her safe from this day forward.
The Great Hall was even more ornately decorated than it had been for the last feast. Colorful banners hung from the rafters, and flowers bloomed in every available space. The room buzzed with activity. Servants stood just inside the doorway holding the pitchers and bowls of herb-scented water for the guests to dip their hands into. Lukas, who apparently had been snatched from his stable duties to help with the feast, stood with a towel to dry their hands.
They took their places, Lord Rupert leading her to the seat beside him. As she watched the rest of the guests find their way to their places, she felt small. She almost wished she were in her bed, curled up under the covers. Peter Brunckhorst’s horrible face kept thrusting itself into her thoughts. Maybe no one would talk to her. Or better yet, perhaps Lady Osanna would sit beside her again. Rose might even tell her what happened. Lady Osanna would be properly horrified and perhaps would say something comforting and sympathetic.
Rose’s heart sank when Lady Anne sat beside her, separating her from Lady Osanna, who sat on Anne’s other side. She forced herself to smile and greet her. Lady Anne responded in kind, then turned to Osanna. A glance in another direction showed Duchess Katheryn glowering at her. The duchess immediately looked away.
Serving girls filled their tankards with wine, and two servant boys carried in a large boar on a platter. The animal was complete with head and tusks, its skin decorated with designs painted in red dye. Spicy gravy was served with the meat, along with honeyed rice pudding. Other servants offered sliced chicken and pheasant and an assortment of cooked fruit in thick sauces. Rose accepted the food offered her, even though she wasn’t sure she would be able to eat it. She was still feeling too nervous from her incident with Peter Brunckhorst.
Lord Rupert didn’t seem to notice that she wasn’t eating. He pointed to the boar. “I wonder if this is the beast who ripped into Wilhelm.” He chuckled.
Rose felt weak at the thought. She wanted to rebuke him for the comment. Instead, she looked away.
“Oh, Rose, I was only jesting.” He took a long drink of wine. “A note came from Wilhelm yesterday. He thinks he’s on Moncore’s trail, and he may be away for several more months, until the onset of winter.”
Rose nodded, trying to look properly interested without showing too much concern. But the news made her feel even more like running away to be alone.
At the end of the first course, the servants brought out a subtlety in the shape of a castle. Everyone clapped and shouted their approval of the sculptor’s skill. After it had been paraded around for all the guests to get a close look, Lord Rupert said, “I will get a piece for you.”
“I don’t like marzipan.”
“Oh, come. Eat some. It’s the festive thing to do.”
The servant brought the marzipan castle—an exact replica of Hagenheim Castle, perfectly proportioned, with its five towers—around to their table again. It seemed a shame to destroy something so intricate, but Lord Rupert took the knife and sliced off the biggest tower.
“For you.”
Rose took it from his hand. He looked like Wolfie when he’d killed a rabbit and laid it at her feet. She smiled and took a bite to please him.
“Now you’re ready for my surprise.”
A group of men and women entered the minstrels’ gallery at the opposite end of the hall. There must have been over a dozen people, each holding a musical instrument—a lute, harp, recorder, viol, drum, or hurdy-gurdy. The noisy conversation in the Great Hall ceased.
So this was her surprise—professional musicians performing for the guests. She recognized two of them as the men Lord Rupert had been talking to in the courtyard just before the feast.
He smiled down at her, so obviously proud of his gift to her.
She smiled back at him, genuinely impressed and pleased.
Lord Rupert leaned down, his lips close to her ear. “The first song I requested especially for you.”
The song was a ballad, the music slow and sweet. The words were in Italian, of which she only understood a smattering.
Lord Rupert translated. “You see beauty and gentleness joined together,” he whispered, his breath causing wisps of her hair to brush against her ear, “and adorned with virtuous manners.”
He paused while they sang the next verse.
“She moves her eyes in a face that proves heaven exists.”
Rose could feel his gaze fixed on her, but she locked hers on the musicians, a blush suffusing her cheeks. He continued with the next verse, his voice deeper.
“And makes me a faithful subject of love. I enjoy sweet service more than freedom.
For when I come before her face I place all my desire in pleasing her.
I feel all unworthiness perish in my heart and virtue awaken there.”
Rose risked a peek at him. His expression was so intense it made her heart pound against her chest. He leaned very close. His gaze raked over her face, and Rose was glad the light was too dim in the Great Hall for him to notice again the bruises, or the blush infusing her cheeks. She forced herself to turn away from him, with the thought that others were probably watching.
The song ended and everyone applauded. Rose felt a warm hand on her back and realized it was Lord Rupert’s. She turned her eyes to his and gave a little shake of her head. Kissing he
r hand in private was bad enough, but touching her in public was too bold.
He took his hand away, but with a pitiful look.
The Meistersingers continued to play their instruments while the servants brought out the fish course, consisting of spiced lampreys, roasted salmon, eel, and fish pies.
Lord Rupert seemed to have lost his appetite. He passed over nearly every dish, and instead of eating, drank wine and spoke in low tones to Rose.
“I’ve arranged for the singers to accompany us to the square after the feast, where we can dance all afternoon.” He gave her an arch look. “I know you like to dance.”
They finished the fish course, and the servants carried the leftovers out to the poor who waited at the door, as was the custom.
The Meistersingers began another song, this time a lively tune in Latin.
“I requested this song also. Do you understand Latin?”
“Yes.”
Lord Rupert smiled down at her. “You’ll like it. It makes one want to dance.”
The lead singer belted out the verses, then the deep, rich voices of the other singers answered him with the rollicking chorus.
Rose listened to the song as Lord Rupert conversed with the bishop.
When the music ended, the servants carried in a giant pie that was so large it required two young men to carry it. The servers set it at the high table in front of the duke as the cook followed them in. She took a long knife and sliced open the crust and several birds flew out. Women squealed as the birds fluttered up to the rafters. Everyone applauded, except Duke Nicolaus, who roared with laughter.
The next course featured venison with frumenty, but the liquid meat pudding was everyday fare for her and not very tempting. She ate some pears in syrup instead, and a bit of fruit pastry.
The Meistersingers sang another ballad, this one about a hunter who, with his greyhound and falcon, was caught in the rain and sheltered by a shepherdess. Lord Rupert translated part of it for Rose then was distracted by a friend.
Rose tried to look interested in the food, in the entertainers, jugglers, and acrobats. She sighed in relief when the feast came to an end.
Lord Rupert turned to her and placed his hand on her arm. “The Meistersingers shall play some dancing music for us in the Marktplatz.” His grin grew wider. “And I have one more song I asked them to play just for you. Will you meet me in front of the Rathous at three o’clock?”
Rose smiled and nodded.
“And wear your bracelet?” The inflection of his voice made it a plea.
“I can’t promise.”
“It would mean so much to me.”
“I’ll try. You know, if Frau Geruscha found out you gave it to me, and that I accepted it—”
“She won’t find out.” He smiled, as though happy now that he realized Frau Geruscha was the reason she was resisting.
“I’ll see you at nones.”
Chapter 13
Hildy came to walk with Rose to the Marktplatz, since Frau Geruscha wouldn’t allow her to go by herself. The Marktplatz was alive with people milling about. The focal point of the square was the three-story Rathous, or Town Hall, one of Rose’s favorite buildings. It wasn’t ornately decorated like the Butchers’ Guild Hall on the opposite side, with its painted wooden carvings, but was magnificent in its own way. Rose marveled at its size and its gray brick façade, decorated with triplet Gothic-arched windows. Pointed stone arches ran the length of the bottom floor, forming a canopy over the sidewalk. She and Hildy waited for Lord Rupert there.
Rose ran her hand over the tight, smooth braid down her back, drawing it over her shoulder. Hildy had come to visit her after the feast, and her friend had braided Rose’s hair in preparation for the dancing. While Hildy tugged and worked Rose’s strands of hair between her fingers, Rose described the awful incident with Peter Brunckhorst. Hildy cried, “If only Lord Rupert had come and saved you! That would have been so romantic.”
She listened absentmindedly to Hildy’s excited chatter. A lingering shiver of abhorrence ran through her at the thought of Peter Brunckhorst’s long fingers biting into her face and crushing her lips. Was he still inside the walls of Hagenheim? If so, he could be nearby. She looked about her but saw no one resembling the tall wool merchant. Besides, the duke’s soldiers were out looking for him, and perhaps even had him locked in the dungeon at this moment.
Excitement about the Midsummer Eve festival filled the air with extra noise and happier sounds than normal. The actual festival wouldn’t commence until twilight, when bonfires would be ignited all around the countryside. In the Marktplatz, there would be a ring of candles, around which people would sit and sing and eat St. John’s bread and destiny cakes. But first, Lord Rupert’s impromptu music and dancing would entertain everyone.
“Rose.”
She turned and saw Lord Rupert striding toward her.
Hildy squeezed her arm. “I will find you later.” Her eyes twinkled before she turned and hurried away, across the wide Marktplatz.
Lord Rupert’s face was lit by a broad smile. He stopped before her and lifted her left hand. His smile fled.
“You’re not wearing it.” His eyes narrowed. “Still afraid of Frau Geruscha?”
“I don’t want to excite her ire unnecessarily.”
“What about my ire?”
“Oh, I think I can manage yours.”
“Is that so?” Lord Rupert backed her up against the inside wall of one of the arches of the Rathous. Shadows surrounded them as the wall mostly hid them from the people milling around the Marktplatz. He propped his elbow against the arch above her head. His eyes danced with a tender light.
Her heart quickened. If she were the wife of Lord Rupert Gerstenberg, wouldn’t she be happy? How could she be otherwise? He was very handsome. Everyone thought he was quite a catch for any woman, rich or poor.
He leaned closer, his eyes already closing. If she simply stood still, he was going to kiss her in less time than it would take to say, “Halt. State your business.”
Rose ducked her head and slipped under his arm. “I suppose you remember that I wanted to tell you about something.” She turned around to face him. Trying to affect an innocent smile, she clasped her hands behind her back and stood on her toes.
He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms with a frown of disappointment. His features, his hair, his clothes, seemed even more perfect in the dim light under the arches. He sighed. “I anxiously await the telling of it.”
“There is a man named Peter Brunckhorst who has asked to marry me.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’re betrothed?” He uncrossed his arms and pushed himself off the wall.
“No, of course not.” Rose frowned, ready to grab him by the throat and shake him if he wouldn’t be quiet and let her finish. “I am trying to tell you that this man, Peter Brunckhorst, has twice accosted me. The second time was this morning after I left the cathedral. He grabbed me by the arm and put his hand over my mouth. That’s how I got the bruises on my face.”
“The surly—” Lord Rupert’s features took on a threatening expression. “Our bailiff shall be notified at once. We’ll have the lout whipped for that.”
“Frau Geruscha has already informed the bailiff of the entire incident. He and several of his men have gone to find him.”
“Very good.” Lord Rupert cocked his head to one side, his shoulders relaxing. “Well, then, I’m glad I took care of that.” He grinned, stepped toward her, and draped his arm across her shoulders. “Not frightened anymore, are you, my pet?”
She opened her mouth to say that there was more to the story. Instead, she shrugged off his arm and bristled at being called his pet. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her. Perhaps it was because she was disappointed he hadn’t shown more concern over what had happened.
“No. I suppose I’ll simply strike him in the throat with my elbow again the next time he tries to wrench my face from the rest of my body.”
“Did
you truly do that?” Lord Rupert drew back, his eyes growing wide. “You’re a maiden not to be trifled with, I see.”
She tried to look smug. “I’m glad you realize that.”
“Rose!” Hildy rushed toward her, Gunther following behind.
Gunther stepped forward, his lips pursed together in a very serious expression. “Hildy told me what happened. I’m only two houses away from the Marktplatz, Rose. Send for me any time of day or night. If that man ever comes near you again, I’ll make him rue it.”
Rose was surprised to find that Gunther’s words made tears sting her eyes. She blinked. “Thank you, Gunther.”
“It’s fortunate that my brother is away.” Lord Rupert joined the conversation. “He would personally have this man’s head. Anyone who harms our Rose will have to face the wrath of the Earl of Hamlin.” He winked at her.
Lord Rupert’s words about Lord Hamlin, as well as Gunther’s sincere offer of protection, made the heaviness over Rose’s heart lift a little. She took a deep breath and decided to forget about Peter Brunckhorst.
The flat, expansive center of the Marktplatz was a perfect dance floor. Many couples, both young and not-so-young, took advantage of the rare treat of the Meistersingers. The dancers swirled, genuflected, raised their hands in the air, and generally kicked up their heels while the Meistersingers played and sang slow ballads, lively saltarellos and istampitas, and looked as if they were having as much fun as the townspeople.
She watched the carefree manner of the men and women singers. What would it be like to travel around the world? Rose had never been anywhere but Hagenheim. She studied the Meistersingers closely. Were the women each married to one of the men in the group? Rose imagined herself among them, making people happy, meeting people throughout the land. It must be an interesting life.
Seeing Gunther and Hildy together, dancing, laughing, and talking, sent a thrill of joy through her. Gunther obviously admired her friend. Hildy was properly demure, but Rose could imagine the raptures playing through Hildy’s thoughts as she accepted Gunther’s attentions.