Fairy Tale Romance Collection

by Melanie Dickerson

  Bushes snatched at his legs as the vegetation thickened. He ignored them, glancing up at Rose. Her head and shoulders drooped. She must be tired. He had not asked her how her dress had gotten torn. While she’d claimed it was her doing, Rupert no doubt was at fault there as well. Anger bubbled up inside him so strong that he clenched his fist and silently promised his brother that he would pay for his boorish behavior.

  They emerged from the trees into the meadow next to the castle. He ventured another quick look at Rose. He admired her spirit and intelligence, her compassion and character, but God help him, he also found her beautiful. When he’d seen the hurt on her face and her torn dress, then found out what Rupert had said to her, it almost ripped out his heart. He had assured himself that Rose and Rupert would marry, that all her needs would be taken care of, that she would have the protection of the Gerstenberg name. Now that wasn’t possible. Who would marry her and take care of her?

  O God, let it be me.

  His chest ached with the fervor of his desire—and his impossible request.

  Impossible. Impossible. Impossible. The word haunted his mind.

  For with God nothing shall be impossible.

  The Bible verse entered his thoughts, as though whispered to his spirit.

  Don’t taunt me, God. You know I want to do the right thing. What do you mean, nothing is impossible?

  A slight breeze brushed his cheek and sifted through his hair, as though God’s Spirit was brushing by him. He listened carefully, straining his ears, but no other words came to him.

  They were close enough now to the castle wall that Wilhelm saw it looming in front of them in the moonlight. He led Shadow to the right, toward a small stand of trees that grew to within fifty feet of the city wall.

  “I don’t mean to be impertinent,” Rose said, “but where are we going?”

  “I’m going to show you something you must never reveal to another soul—not even Frau Geruscha, and especially not Hildy.”

  “Of course.” A moment of silence passed. “Is it a secret entrance to the castle?”

  The note of excitement in her voice made him smile. “Yes.” They plunged into the trees nearest the wall. He frowned and muttered, “An ill-conceived secret entrance, begun by my irresponsible brother, allowed by my overindulgent father.”

  Wilhelm found the tree he was looking for, stood with his back against it, and took two paces forward. He bent to the ground, lifted a dead tree limb, and tossed it to the side. Then he felt around until he found the handle. He pulled it up, got his shoulder underneath the enormous wooden door, and flipped it all the way open.

  “A tunnel?”

  Rose had dismounted and was bending down to look into the gaping hole.

  “Yes. Stay here for a moment.” He jumped down into the hole and set up the wooden ramp that lay nearby, ready for service. Next he felt along the wall for the torch. The pair of flints that were supposed to be in the sconce alongside the torch were missing. Wilhelm winced and walked back up the ramp.

  “No torch. But Shadow and I have gone through it in the dark before.”

  A band of moonlight filtered between the leaves overhead and shone on Rose’s face, allowing him to see her look of apprehension.

  “Or we can go around to the town gate and get the guard to let us in. Whatever you decide.” He half-expected her to be outraged at his suggestion that she walk through the pitch-black tunnel, but apparently she was considering it.

  “Are you afraid to walk through the tunnel?” she asked.

  “No. I don’t think any animals of significant size could have gotten inside.”

  “You don’t think? Does that mean you’re not sure?”

  “I’m reasonably sure. But we can always go through the main gate.”

  “No, no, I can do this.”

  He grabbed Shadow’s reins. “Wait here until I get Shadow in.” He led the horse down the shallow ramp into the tunnel. Inside, the tunnel was only a little wider than the opening and just tall enough for a large horse. Shadow whinnied and snuffled his dislike of the earthen passageway as his hooves clomped on the wooden ramp.

  “All right, boy, it’s all right.” He tried to make his voice soothing and low as he patted the horse’s jaw.

  He turned and looked over his shoulder. Rose started gingerly down the ramp.

  “What do I do? Is there anything in here I might stumble over, any twists and turns I should know about?”

  “There’s a fork at which we’ll have to go to the left.” He turned his head. “But don’t worry. It will help you keep your bearings if you put one hand on Shadow and your other hand on the wall as you walk.”

  He could only see her outline against the trees outside. With his big cloak draped around her shoulders, she looked small next to Shadow.

  “I have to close the door.” The tunnel was barely wide enough for two people, or one person and a horse. Wilhelm started to squeeze by her, and Rose moved back to let him pass, keeping one hand on Shadow’s rump. His arm lightly brushed her shoulder when he passed. His heart skipped.

  He climbed up the ramp and closed the trap door, blotting out what little light they had.

  “Lord Hamlin?” came her voice in the dark.

  “Yes?” Their arms brushed again.

  “Can you keep talking?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m just ahead of you. Put your hand on the wall. Do you feel it?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’re starting to move.”

  He tugged lightly on Shadow’s reins and the horse started forward.

  Chapter

  21

  Blackness consumed her. Rose had never before experienced darkness so complete that she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. Mold and wet dirt invaded her nostrils, and she scrunched her face at the unpleasant odor. She kept one hand on the dirt wall and the other on Shadow’s back, as Lord Hamlin instructed, willing her legs not to tremble. She didn’t want to transfer her nervousness to the horse.

  “Are you all right back there?”

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever had so much fun.”

  “Who says I don’t know how to have a good time?”

  Rose imagined him smiling, his dark eyes sparkling in amusement. How she cherished the memory of the way he had looked at her earlier this evening, his features soft and his voice warm and kind.

  Why, God? Why couldn’t you have given me Lord Hamlin?

  Never mind. Don’t answer that.

  A tiny drop of something cold plopped on top of Rose’s head. O Lord, let this tunnel not collapse on us.

  Just then, something cool and smooth slid across the top of her foot. Rose screamed. She covered her mouth, too late to stifle it.

  “What is it?” Wilhelm said in the darkness ahead.

  Shadow snorted and drummed his hooves on the dirt floor.

  “Something slithered across my foot!” Rose shivered violently, afraid to move. She tried to find Shadow again with her hand, groping forward in the darkness, but grasped only air. She was alone in a dark hole. Her insides were a boiling mush.

  “Probably a harmless garden snake. Stay there for a moment to give it time to get away.” After a slight pause he said, “Reach out your hand to me.”

  Rose reached out and touched his fingers. He immediately covered her hand in a firm grasp. His warm fingers entwined with hers and made her heart beat erratically. The snake had nearly scared her to death, but his touch and his presence overwhelmed her with comfort and safety. The darkness gave her a feeling of intimacy with him. They could hold each other’s hand and no one could see. She liked it—so very much.

  She shouldn’t allow herself the feeling that washed over her at being in this dark tunnel alone with him, clutching his hand. This whole adventure was simply a kindness, an act of chivalry on his part, taking her through the tunnel instead of making her walk with him through town after curfew. It was wrong—and slightly ridiculous—for her to enjoy it this much, her stomach going al
l warm and her heart beating a new, joyous beat.

  “Here we are at the fork.” His voice sounded gruff. “We have to veer to the left and we’ll come out next to the stable. It’s not much farther now.”

  Rose felt a little lightheaded. Her knees were still shaking as they had been ever since the snake wriggled across her foot.

  Lord Hamlin led her to the left and the tunnel became a hill to climb.

  “I thank you, Lord Hamlin.” Rose’s voice shook. She swallowed. “For being so kind as to take me this way.”

  “Of course.”

  Did he squeeze her hand, or did she imagine it?

  “I would do much more for you, Rose. If you ever need anything, send for me.”

  Rose’s heart skipped like a young calf. She wanted to remember every word of this conversation. Taking a deep breath, she was surrounded by his smell, which emanated from his cloak, still wrapped around her. She wished this moment might never end.

  “I’m sorry I screamed and frightened Shadow.”

  “He’s all right. I only regret that the snake had such bad manners.”

  A sliver of light came into view and she felt deflated that their journey was almost over. At the same time, after being engulfed in complete darkness, it was a relief to have somewhere to focus her eyes.

  “We’re here.” Lord Hamlin loosened his grip on her hand and Rose let go. “As soon as I get these steps in place and raise the door, you can come out.”

  “Lead Shadow out first. It’s amazing how well he behaves. He must trust you completely.”

  Her hand felt bereft and cold without his warmth, but it still tingled pleasantly. She resisted the urge to press it against her lips and cheek.

  “Shadow’s the best horse I know.” Lord Hamlin worked to get the wooden steps in place, then walked halfway up and pushed open the trapdoor with his forearm and shoulder. The horse stepped carefully up and out of the dark, dank tunnel, snorting and nodding his head, obviously happy to be above ground again.

  “Your turn.” Lord Hamlin held out his hand from where he stood halfway up the steps.

  “Thank you.” Rose placed her hand in his. His grip was strong and confident as he led her up the steps and onto the grass.

  The moon bathed them in its pale light as they stood facing each other.

  He still held her hand in his. When he lifted his other hand toward her face, her heart stopped. She didn’t move as he brushed her cheek with his fingertips, sending a pleasant tingling warmth through her.

  “Dirt—from the tunnel.”

  “Oh.” Rose reached up and rubbed the spot where his fingers had touched. Her hand shook.

  His dark blue eyes shimmered strangely as he fixed her with an intense stare. “If there’s ever anything you need, will you tell me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’d better go.” Gruffness infused his voice again. “Frau Geruscha will be worried about you.” But he continued to hold her hand.

  She was enthralled with the look on his face and with the way he had come to her rescue tonight. She waited with a strange anticipation—for what, she didn’t know. She wondered when he would let go of her hand and let her leave.

  Instead of letting her go, he lifted her hand to his lips, his eyelids closing, and slowly kissed the backs of her fingers. She held her breath at the rush of pleasure his lips created as they brushed softly over her skin. A tiny sigh escaped her.

  I shouldn’t let him do this.

  “Good night.” She could barely squeeze the words past the knot in her throat.

  He released her hand.

  Rose swayed ever so slightly, feeling cold and shaky. She forced her legs to hold her up and her eyes not to look at him. She clutched his cloak under her chin and walked toward the tower and Frau Geruscha’s chambers.

  Once inside, she leaned against the door and pulled the cloak higher, burying her face in the lining and breathing deeply. Forgive me, God. Only let me have this one pleasure. And she took another deep breath, letting Lord Hamlin’s manly, leather-and-horses smell envelop her in a sweet cocoon of warmth, before she took it off and hung it by the door.

  She stared at it. No, she would not take it to her room. She would leave it right there.

  Wilhelm watched her go, his heart aching. His conscience smote him for kissing her fingers, as well as for the thoughts he’d just entertained. God, forgive me.

  So much for his promise to never touch her again.

  How he had wanted to forget who he was for one moment, forget his duty and everything else, to pull her into his arms and kiss her with every ounce of his passion.

  He rubbed the back of his hand across his brow, wiping the sweat that had beaded there. Then he remembered Shadow and grabbed his reins, leading him toward the stable.

  His thoughts turned to Rupert as he systematically unsaddled his faithful horse, brushed him down, and forked some fresh hay into the stall. When he finished, he hastened into the castle, hoping to find his brother still at supper in the Great Hall.

  The servants were cleaning up when he entered and reported that Rupert had left a few minutes earlier, taking a full tankard of wine with him.

  Wilhelm stalked down the corridor in search of Rupert. He met him coming from the direction of the privy. Striding up to him, Wilhelm drew his fist back and landed a clean blow to Rupert’s jaw.

  Rupert reeled, and after two wobbly backward steps, hit the floor on his backside. He raised a hand to his face.

  “Feel better?”

  “No. Get up so I can hit you again.”

  “I think I’ve had enough, thank you.” Rupert flexed his jaw, dabbing his bloody lip with the back of his hand.

  Wilhelm stared down at him with a burning urge to expend a lot more energy on his brother than one single blow. His fists were tight and ready, but his louse of a brother seemed unwilling to get off the floor.

  Fine. Stay there. He spun on his heel and strode down the hall. He went inside his bedchamber and closed the door.

  Chapter

  22

  “Rose? What’s wrong?”

  Three weeks had passed since Lord Rupert’s odious proposal. Rose knew she’d been quieter than normal, and Frau Geruscha had to have noticed that he wasn’t visiting her anymore. Her mistress hadn’t questioned her about it, and Rose had tried not to raise her suspicions that something was wrong. Obviously, she was failing.

  Rose shook her head. “Nothing.”

  But Frau Geruscha’s brows lowered even more, telling her she didn’t believe her.

  “It’s probably the weather, so cloudy of late…” Rose stopped, not wishing to tell a lie. How could she explain that her future looked as bleak as it ever had? Even bleaker, now that the whole region thought of her as the spurned former mistress of Lord Rupert. At least Lord Hamlin knew the truth. But she tried hard not to think about Lord Hamlin—and failed constantly.

  Rose shrugged and turned to throw some more wood on the fire. She tried again. “Hildy rarely visits me anymore.” Gunther had been given the job as the duke’s illuminator that he’d been promised, his murder sentence having been forgiven and forgotten, apparently. “She spends her time making sure the house and meals are perfect for him. As she should.”

  Now she sounded self-pitying. Rose grabbed the fire poker and viciously jabbed it into the red hot embers in the fireplace, sending up a torrent of sparks.

  Frau Geruscha stepped closer. She placed her hand on Rose’s shoulder. “Some day you’ll be married too.”

  Rose whirled around, dislodging her mistress’s hand. The surprised look on Frau Geruscha’s face only increased Rose’s wrung-out feeling. “How can you say that? How do you know? No one would marry me. I’m your apprentice. Who wants to marry the next town healer?”

  Why had she said that?

  “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” Thank goodness Frau Geruscha didn’t seem offended. “I suppose I’m only dreading winter. People get sick and die when it starts to get cold.” The
thought of winter was a heavy weight in her chest. Winter meant sickness and death, bad smells, groans, and the tolling of cathedral bells for someone else who had succumbed to cold weather’s cruelty. She would be by Frau Geruscha’s side, witnessing the diseases that would steal the life from the human victims of Hagenheim. Always she and the rest of the world feared the Great Pestilence that had decimated towns and countryside alike a few years before Rose was born. Hardly a family had been spared, and only God knew how many would die if it came again. A milder outbreak had happened when Rose was a child. She shuddered, remembering the hideous black buboes under the sick people’s arms—the sign that death was imminent.

  Rose’s stomach twisted at being only a whisper away from admitting…she wasn’t sure she would ever be a good healer.

  “I pray I will become like you, Frau Geruscha.”

  “You don’t have to be like me, Rose. God makes us all different, with our own talents.”

  “Then what’s my talent?” I don’t have one. Rose bit her lip. Why couldn’t she just be quiet? The last thing she wanted was for her mistress to send her away.

  “You have many talents. I know winter can be hard, especially when people die, but God will bring our town through another year. He always does.”

  Frau Geruscha was mature and unaffected by her own pity for the victims. Rose wanted to believe she could shrug off the deaths she would face this winter, but she dreaded her own compassion, the way it tightened around her insides like a giant hand, squeezing and paralyzing her.

  Her mistress patted her on the back. “You’ll feel better when you have more confidence in your abilities.”

  Rose tried to smile back. She nodded, hoping Frau Geruscha would believe she had been placated. Then Rose went into the storeroom to sort some dried herbs. Anything to keep busy.

  It wasn’t only winter and her lack of confidence that had been weighing on Rose, of course. Lord Hamlin’s wedding was coming soon, just before Christmas, to Lady Salomea. What was she like? Was she warm or haughty? Kind or ruthless? Would their personalities be well-suited to each other, or would she make him miserable? Lord Hamlin would have to marry her no matter what she was like. It was his duty, and he would never shirk it. The people of the region respected him for that, even were dependent on it. After all, the marriage would go far toward assuring their safety.