Fairy Tale Romance Collection

by Melanie Dickerson

  “Rose, listen to me!” He stood toe to toe with her, grasping her arms hard in his hands. “I’ll make you happy. You shall have all the music, all the beautiful clothes, everything you could want. You can run the household, read books—”

  “Let go of me.” Her body went rigid. She could barely see. Tears of rage blurred Lord Rupert’s image. She glanced down and her eyes focused on the bracelet he had given her, glinting on her arm. Her face burned as she grasped it and ripped it off. She threw it at his feet. “You think I’m a nobody, nothing. How dare you ask me to live in sin?”

  “Stop saying that and listen to me! It isn’t like that, Rose!”

  “It is! It is! And you know it is.” Rose suddenly hated him, hated his detestable fingers gripping her arms. She had to get away from his voice. She couldn’t bear to listen to another word out of his mouth.

  Rose violently twisted her upper body and wrenched herself out of his grasp, throwing herself backward. He made a wild grab and caught her sleeve. She heard the fabric rip as she landed on the ground on her left hip. Cool air brushed her shoulder. Her right sleeve was torn and hung awry across her upper arm. She grabbed it and held it up in a feeble attempt to cover her exposed shoulder as she scrambled to her feet, ignoring the hand he offered her.

  “You’re being unreasonable—”

  “You stay away from me.” Rose gave him her fiercest look, determined to scratch his eyes out if he touched her. “Don’t ever come near me again. Do you hear me?”

  She turned and ran out of the rose garden, leaving the gate swinging on its hinges. She skirted behind the castle, across the courtyard, and through the castle gate, keeping her head down as she made her way out of town and then ran across the meadow toward the forest.

  She ran as fast as she could, until her chest burned as though her heart were on fire. She reached the beech trees and turned to make sure Lord Rupert wasn’t following her. Then she plunged into the evening shadows of the forest.

  Tears coursed down her face and she panted for breath. Not caring where she was going, she kept running, only wanting to get far away. She came out on the other side of the trees, into the waning sunlight, and started toward the beech tree at the top of the grassy hillock.

  Her shoulders shook with her sobs. She could barely see where she was going as she stumbled up the hill and sank to the ground under the tree.

  She leaned against the tree’s gray trunk and wrapped her arms around it. Her heart throbbed, hurting more with each heaving breath she took. Her throat ached and her eyes burned, but the pain inside was the worst. How could she have ever thought Lord Rupert, son of the Duke of Hagenheim, could possibly marry her? Frau Geruscha had been right all along. She never should have trusted him. He never intended to marry her. Humiliation pierced her and forced out the tears, doing nothing to relieve the ache in her heart.

  Rose heard only her racking sobs as they wrenched her whole body. Then, suddenly, horse’s hooves were pounding up the hill toward her. The animal was nearly upon her when she tore herself away from the tree to face the rider.

  Chapter

  20

  Wilhelm held Shadow’s reins loosely as they walked back to the castle through the dense brush and trees. A faint noise toward the west stopped him. He listened but couldn’t identify the sound. Urging Shadow forward, he followed it.

  They emerged from the forest. Someone lay crumpled at the base of the beech tree on the hill. His breath caught in his throat as he realized it was Rose, weeping.

  He grasped the reins and catapulted onto Shadow’s back, urging him into a canter up the incline. They closed the distance in a few seconds. Wilhelm dismounted before the agile beast had even come to a stop.

  Rose lifted her face and jumped at his sudden approach.

  “What is it?” His heart constricted painfully at her anguished look. He reached out to her, but she shrank back, staring at his hand as though he’d suddenly grown claws.

  He drew back, startled at her reaction, taking in her ripped dress and tear-stained face.

  “Dear Lord of heaven, what’s happened to you?” He sank to one knee before her.

  He longed to put his arms around her and comfort her but he remembered the way she had cringed when he had reached out to her.

  “Who did this to you?” The impulse to tear her attacker apart set his muscles on edge.

  Rose shook her head as fresh tears slid from her eyes and down her cheeks. “No, no.” Tears seemed to choke off any other words she might have spoken.

  “Tell me, Rose. Who did this?” On his knees a mere two feet from her, he had to restrain himself again from pulling her into his arms.

  She shook her head. “I—can’t—t-tell you.”

  “Yes! You can tell me, Rose. Please. You can tell me. I vow before God I will never let him hurt you again. Was it Peter Brunckhorst? I’ll find him and make sure he never bothers you again.” Pain strangled him at the emptiness of his promise. You’ve been looking for one man for seven years and haven’t found him yet.

  She shook her head again, and he yearned to smooth back the strands of hair that clung to her wet cheeks.

  His heart pounded so hard it seemed to shake his whole body. He stared at her and felt the rage growing inside him. He had to know. “Rose, you have to tell me who did this. Tell me.”

  “I can’t tell you!” She looked up at him, her eyes glinting.

  He took a deep breath. “Why?” He softened his voice as he pleaded. “Please tell me, Rose. I don’t understand why you can’t tell me.”

  “If I tell you, you’ll hate me.” Her face crumpled. Fresh sobs shook her as she covered her face with her hands.

  “How could I hate you? Especially for something someone else did to you?” He yearned to pull her hands away from her face and kiss her until she stopped crying. An irresponsible, nearly irresistible thought.

  “Because. Because you won’t believe me, and you’ll hate me.”

  “Of course I’ll believe you, Rose. I only want to take care of you. I won’t be angry. Tell me.” A hard edge crept into his voice.

  A muscle writhed in her jaw. Anger flashed from her eyes. “All right, I’ll tell you. It was your brother, Lord Rupert. He told me your father was appointing him the next bishop and he asked me to be his mistress.”

  Her fury seemed to rush out of her with the last word. Her chin quivered and she bit her lip.

  Wilhelm closed his eyes as he grasped her declaration. His whole body sank under the weight of it. Oh, Rose, what have I done? He fell to the ground, his face in his hands.

  Rose drew in a breath as Lord Hamlin collapsed in front of her. Why did you make me tell you? Now he would hate her forever. He would never turn against his own brother, yet he’d vowed to punish whoever did this to her.

  Now that she had actually spoken the words out loud, the flood of tears subsided, but she was horrified at Lord Hamlin remaining in so undignified a posture. “He didn’t hurt me, Lord Hamlin.”

  Still he didn’t move.

  “The rip in my dress was my fault.” Heaven forbid that Lord Hamlin should get the idea that Lord Rupert had assaulted her.

  But what did it matter? She was a lowly nobody to him and his privileged brother. With all his talk of love, Lord Rupert hadn’t cared about her, had no respect for her. She wondered why she had ever found his face handsome or his pale blue eyes kind. Now he seemed cold, almost inhuman.

  Lord Hamlin still lay prostrate, his face to the ground, motionless. What was he thinking? Was he embarrassed that he had thought Lord Rupert was going to ask her to marry him? Was he sorry for her hurt feelings and broken heart, or merely sorry he was to blame for making her think Rupert wanted to marry her? For causing her to trust him?

  She hugged herself and shivered as a night breeze brought out chills along her arms. She wished she had not shrunk back when he reached out to her. At this moment his strong arms could be holding, warming, comforting her.

  She closed her eyes
. Of course he wouldn’t have put his arms around her. This was the man who had issued a proclamation saying that no man could touch a woman who wasn’t his wife or sister—and it seemed impossible now that she would ever be either to him.

  Slowly, he raised himself and sat back on his heels. His eyes glistened as he locked his gaze on her.

  “I’m so sorry.” His voice was low and hoarse. Anguish creased his forehead. “Please forgive me. Forgive me for my arrogance. Forgive me for telling you I thought—Oh, Rose. Rupert is a scurrilous knave. You didn’t deserve this…Will you forgive me?”

  Her heart pricked at the pain and tension etched on his face. She shook her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I was arrogant, so pharisaical to believe that you would be better off marrying Rupert just because my family…”

  He stared out at the sunset. His face glowed in the pale orange light, which played up his strong, square jaw and his prominent brows and deep-set eyes. “I was wrong, obviously. You are the virtuous one, Rose. You are the one with honor and pure love. It emanates from you. How my brother could have ever thought you would go along with such a plan…”

  “He didn’t think it was wrong, doesn’t see it as a sin,” Rose said quietly.

  Lord Hamlin scowled, his jaw clenching. “He knows better than that. He was only trying to make you believe it. He’s a manipulator, a rogue, a—”

  “It’s all right. Please.” Rose shook her head. “Nothing’s hurt except my pride.” And my heart.

  She pondered that thought. Pain filled her heart, yes, but she was surprised to detect a little relief hiding there too, relief that she wouldn’t be marrying Lord Rupert after all. She hadn’t trusted him. She hadn’t truly loved him. Did she even know her own heart? She obviously was a poor judge of other people’s.

  “I was wrong too, for thinking Rupert was selfless enough to give up wealth and power for love. I never dreamed my father would actually give him the bishopric. Please forgive me for trying to convince you it was best that you marry him. You were always too good for him.”

  “Please, Lord Hamlin, you don’t have to defend me this way. I’m under no illusion about my status or prospects.”

  He looked at her a moment, as if about to speak. Then he stood abruptly and turned away. Gripping the pommel of his saddle, he leaned his head against his horse’s neck.

  She hugged her legs to her chest, making sure her skirt covered her feet. She laid her cheek against her knees, tired from all her crying, and marveled at the cool, self-possessed Lord Hamlin leaning against his horse as though for support. How could the two men even be brothers? She couldn’t imagine Lord Rupert ever feeling so deeply sorry for anything. Would he ask forgiveness for arrogance? Would he care about a maiden’s wounded sensibilities? Would he cry over a brother’s lack of virtue?

  It seemed so clear now. Lord Rupert was a self-seeking lout. He would have broken her heart a million times had he actually been man enough to give up prestige and power to marry her. With Lord Rupert as a husband, how many nights would she have cried herself to sleep? She had been caught up in the attention he showed her. She had to admit, it had made her feel good. He was handsome and he was desirable, in a worldly sort of way. And she had allowed herself to trust him. She’d even let him kiss her. Her stomach roiled at the remembrance.

  What a fool I am.

  But then, he had fooled Lord Hamlin too. But she was the biggest fool. She hadn’t listened to Frau Geruscha, hadn’t even listened to her own doubts.

  The sun’s light quickly faded, leaving them with only a slight glow in the sky. The tiny crescent moon wouldn’t be much help, especially with clouds rolling in. Rose remembered hearing howls as a child, lying in bed at night in her father’s cottage. She shuddered, imagining the wolves and bears emerging from their dens now, as night fell, to roam the forest.

  Of course, she was safe with Lord Hamlin near. She glanced at the sword that hung from his belt.

  She should get up and go back to town, before curfew began and they locked the city gates. Even now it might be too late to make it back. Lord Hamlin would have no problem convincing the guard to let him in, if indeed the gates were locked when they returned. But if she allowed him to walk her back and accompany her into the city after dark, people were sure to hear of it. What little of her reputation was still intact would be shredded before noon prayers.

  What was it Lord Hamlin had said about her being virtuous and emanating God’s love? She’d have to remember that when people were whispering that the brothers were sharing their trollop.

  Determined to hurry home alone, Rose stood. Her head throbbed, as though all the blood in her body was pulsing through her brain, no doubt the product of all her crying. She’d missed supper too, after only eating a piece of bread for her midday meal. She’d been too excited about Lord Rupert’s proposal to eat.

  Some proposal.

  She stood still, her eyes closed, waiting to see if the top of her head would shoot into the sky. When the pain subsided a little, she opened her eyes and found Lord Hamlin turning to look at her.

  Blinking and ignoring the pain, she said, “Excuse me, Lord Hamlin, but I must get back before curfew.”

  “I’ll take you back.”

  “I mean no offense, but I don’t want to be seen sneaking in the city gate after dark with you. If indeed I still have a reputation, it would certainly be ruined.”

  He shook his head. “You won’t make curfew anyway on foot.”

  “I might if I hurry.” Rose raised her brows, hoping he would get the hint and end their conversation, which was costing her precious seconds.

  The cathedral bells started to ring, announcing curfew. Her breath hissed out. She was too late. Yet again, tears sprang to her eyes, frustrating her further, and she crossed her arms. “Then I’ll spend the night at my father’s house in the forest. It isn’t far from here.”

  He shook his head. “When was the last time you were there? Wild animals may have begun to sleep there. It isn’t safe.”

  Rose hated his confident, firm tone. “I’ll find a tree limb to bar the door.”

  “You can’t, Rose.” His voice softened, which only made the tears spill over. She stood with her arms still folded, knowing that if she reached up to wipe away the betraying drops he would know she was crying again. She wished he would look away, but he continued to watch her. She held her breath, trying to hold back the tears, but more spilled out and dripped to the ground.

  Lord Hamlin took Shadow’s reins and walked toward her. He pulled something from his pocket and held it out to her.

  Rose took the handkerchief without looking up and wiped her face. O God, haven’t I been humiliated enough for one day?

  He took off his long black cloak. He wrapped the garment around her shoulders, pulling it down around her neck.

  She instantly felt warmer—and relieved that her exposed shoulder was covered.

  Lord Hamlin’s masculine scent of leather and horses enveloped her along with the cloak. His nearness made her skin tingle. She longed to lay her head against his chest. If she only leaned toward him he might put his arms around her.

  No, it was a selfish, imprudent thought. But at least it seemed to make the tears dry up.

  She gazed up into Lord Hamlin’s shadowed countenance. His dark eyes were beautiful and mysterious. What was he thinking, standing so close to her for so long? Finally, he spoke.

  “I’ll put you on Shadow so you won’t have to walk.”

  “I don’t think you should.”

  “Why not?”

  Didn’t he understand? “I don’t want to be seen riding your horse through the town gate after curfew.”

  “You don’t have to worry about that.”

  Rose looked at him doubtfully, trying to think of a clever, sarcastic reply.

  “I have an alternate way of getting into the castle.”

  “Oh.” Rose let this information sink in. Whatever this “alternate way”
was, it had to be less public than the town gate. “Thank you, but I don’t mind walking.”

  “I insist.”

  Rose only stared at him, trying to make out his expression in the dark.

  “There’s no reason both of us should walk. Come.” He bent over, clasped his hands, and waited for her to place her foot in his makeshift stirrup.

  “But you don’t have a sidesaddle.”

  “It’s dark. No one will see you. Merely throw your leg over.”

  “I can’t do that.” Rose was horrified at the thought. “Perhaps I can sit sideways and hook my right leg around the pommel.”

  “All right.” He still stood patiently holding out his hands, reminding Rose of her first riding lesson with Lord Rupert—that deceiver. Rose had no trouble pushing his memory away with Lord Hamlin so near.

  She placed her foot in his hand, praying she wouldn’t fall. She grabbed the pommel and he boosted her up neatly into the saddle. Rose wrapped her leg, modestly covered by her skirt, around the pommel.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  She held on as he took the reins and led Shadow through the darkness and down the hill. She thought about all the things she would like to say to him. Thank you for wanting to defend me. Thank you for thinking Rupert is a rogue. Thank you for being a man of integrity. Oh, Lord Hamlin, if you were mine, I’d make you so happy.

  Rose stifled a laugh at the stupid, outrageous thought.

  As he led Shadow down the hill and into the quiet darkness of the trees between them and the castle, Wilhelm told himself to keep an eye out for wolves, but his mind was completely wrapped up in the maiden who so often made his heart ache. He smiled at how she had proposed to sleep in her father’s empty house to keep from being seen with him. She didn’t deserve the whispered judgments of the townspeople, who would have seen and heard of Lord Rupert’s public attentions to her, and would soon notice the sudden cessation of those attentions, drawing the obvious conclusion—that he had used her and then cast her aside. His chest burned at the injustice of such a thing.