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.
Lord Hamlin raised his eyebrows at her. “I suppose they can do without me for one more song. Would you dance with me again?”
“Yes.” She didn’t understand the strange emotions that were going through her. Lord Hamlin had proved himself to be her friend, but these feelings were not those she would feel for a friend.
They stood opposite each other, waiting for the music to begin. Rose felt she was the most blessed maiden in the world to be dancing with him. He projected such an air of responsibility and confidence. He towered over her, a conspicuous presence even in the large hall full of people.
The music began. He reached out and took her hands, and she lost herself in the rhythm and in his eyes. His feet moved deliberately but gracefully through the steps. She allowed herself to smile at him and enjoy this dance, trying to imprint it on her memory forever.
When the dance was over, he thanked her and quickly excused himself to rejoin the musicians. She bit her lip as she watched him go.
Gunther came over and talked with her during the next dance. He made her laugh at his jokes and anecdotes until she felt more at ease again.
Then Lord Rupert returned to her side to ask her for the last dance. She was so tired and content, she wanted nothing more than to leave while she was still sure she hadn’t done anything embarrassing. She wondered if it would be impolite to depart before the feast began. But one look at Lord Rupert’s face at the end of the dance told her that he wouldn’t let her go so easily.
Once the trestle tables and benches were brought in for the feast, Rose searched for Frau Geruscha. But she found herself, per Lord Rupert’s instructions, seated between him and Lady Osanna. All eyes turned to see the poor peasant sitting with the two young nobles. The situation was ridiculous, and Rose felt the absurdity of it as keenly as anyone. But thither she was forced to sit, at the high table with Duke Nicolaus and his family.
At least the duchess seemed to bear it well, forcing a smile the rest of the night.
Lady Anne sat beside Lord Hamlin, several people away from Rose, on the other side of the duke. The sight of the two of them sitting side by side gave her such a sinking feeling that she avoided looking that way. She tried to catch the sound of his voice, but the room was too noisy and he was too far away. She was certain he had forgotten all about her, with Lady Anne sitting beside him, but she hoped he didn’t think she was trying to somehow entrap his brother. He must, at the very least, see the inappropriateness of her being seated beside Lord Rupert.
She finally spotted Frau Geruscha several seats away, at a lower table. She looked worried, even angry, but when Rose caught her eye, she smiled.
“Ah!” Lord Rupert drew her attention away from the other guests. He pointed to the huge platter being carried in by four servants. “My favorite dish.”
A peacock perched on the platter, its plumage having been placed back on the roasted body. It did look beautiful, but as the servants lifted off the skin and feathers and began to carve the meat, Rose didn’t feel very hungry.
The guests’ raucous laughter died down to a murmur as they were served the roast fowl with gravy on their trenchers of stale bread. Everyone dug into their food. After a few minutes of focused eating, Lord Rupert began regaling her with stories about the superiority of his horse and complaints about the appalling condition of the roads from Heidelberg, which had almost caused his horse to break a leg. When the conversation lagged, she asked what subjects he had studied at the university.
“Oh, mathematics, philosophy, and debate…the like.”
He leaned over and whispered, “That’s Bishop Albrecht.” With his eyes he indicated the man sitting to his left. The bishop wore a white robe with elaborate gold embroidery and gold jewelry around his neck. “The wealthiest man in the room.”
The man was surely the oldest as well. His pink skin sagged beneath his eyes, and he had a hump where his shoulder blades should have been. Rose had heard the gossip—that Lord Rupert wanted the duke to appoint him the next bishop, to take Bishop Albrecht’s place after his death. But it could only be a rumor.
“How would you like to be that wealthy?” Lord Rupert asked, watching her face.
“I can’t imagine it.” She looked away, uncomfortable with the question.
“I should like it immensely.”
Perhaps he did wish to be the next bishop. But try as she might, she couldn’t form a picture in her mind of Lord Rupert as a chaste clergyman.
Between enjoying the many courses of the feast, Lord Rupert often focused his attention on other guests who approached him to make some comment or share a joke they had heard. Lady Osanna graciously began to talk to Rose, preventing her from thinking how awkward she felt. Rose was grateful for her kindness, especially when one glance in the other direction would bring the duchess into view, as well as the wealthy merchants’ daughters, who were seated at a lower table.
The feast seemed to go on and on as more food was paraded around the tables than they could possibly eat.
During the fourth course, Lord Rupert gulped his spiced red wine, smiling his satisfaction. Rose took small sips. She wasn’t used to drinking wine that wasn’t watered down, and she was anxious to leave the feast before Lord Rupert and the other men should begin to get drunk.
He leaned toward her, and in a subdued voice, asked, “Are you enjoying your first feast?”
“Yes, I thank you.”
“Did you enjoy the dances?”
“Very much.”
“I’m told I’m an excellent dancer.”
“I would have to agree.”
“Which dances were your favorites?” He leaned even closer and his gaze settled on her lips.
Rose cleared her throat and glanced down at her plate. “The Carolingian Pavane and the Maltese Branle.”
“And you danced those with me, if I recall correctly.”
But tonight she had enjoyed the almain and the carol even more.
He looked away long enough to pick up his silver tankard and take another long drink. He set it back in its place and turned to her again. “I saw you dancing with my brother. He’s quite taken with you.”
His comment made her thoughts race. Taken with her? “That is an unfortunate thing for you to say.” She looked away, pretending to ignore him.
“Now don’t take that tone. I know you like me best.” He grinned.
She didn’t like the way he was behaving or this conversation. He’d obviously had too much to drink.
“Go riding with me tomorrow.”
Affecting the same cool tone she’d used earlier, she said, “I cannot. It would be improper.” Not to mention unwise. “Besides, I don’t know how. I’ve never ridden a horse.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“Not without a chaperone.”
“Then I’ll get a chaperone. One of Osanna’s ladies will go with us.”
The prospect left her feeling anxious, but what other excuse could she give? “Frau Geruscha may have something for me to do tomorrow. I would have to ask her first. I work for her, you know.”
“And she works for my family, and therefore you must do as I say.” His eyes teased her.
“As I said, I will ask Frau Geruscha tomorrow.”
“Then I shall come for you in the morning, before the sun gets high.”
Rose merely shook her head. Her mind was sluggish and she wasn’t sure what to say. She would discuss it with Frau Geruscha. Her mistress should be able to provide her a good reason not to go.
After the fifth course, Rose saw a few people leave. Men began shouting crude jokes and dallying with the maidens who were helping serve the food and wine. Rose turned to Lady Osanna and whispered, “Would it be rude if I left now?”
“No, most of the ladies will leave soon. I enjoyed our conversation. I hope my brother wasn’t too trying.”
“Oh, no, it was a wonderful night.” Rose glanced up to see Frau Ger
uscha standing just behind her.
“Let us go, Rose.”
“You’re not departing so soon, are you?” Lord Rupert grabbed Rose’s hand as she stood. He affected a crestfallen expression.
“I’m afraid I must. I thank you for favoring me tonight.” She extracted her hand from his.
He waved and called after her, “Farewell until tomorrow.”
She cringed, wishing he had not said that so loudly. Lord Hamlin was getting to his feet at that moment, and his eye caught hers. With a serious expression, he nodded. She nodded back. What could he be thinking about her sitting with his brother?
And why did she care so much?
Chapter 7
Wilhelm headed out of his bedchamber and down the corridor. As he passed Rupert’s chamber, the door burst open and Rupert bumped into him.
Just the person he wanted to see. Wilhelm refused to move out of his brother’s way, forcing him to look him in the eye. “I saw you dancing with Rose last night, making her sit beside you at the feast. What are your intentions toward her?”
The lighted candle on the wall sconce illuminated Rupert’s face. “Intentions?” Rupert squinted at him.
“You had better not try anything dishonorable with her, Rupert. She’s not—she’s not the kind of maiden that—”
“Save your sermon, big brother.” Rupert’s teeth glowed in the dim corridor. “I’m not as big a louse as you think I am. I like Rose. In fact, I think she’s just the maiden I’ve been looking for.”
Wilhelm eyed his brother, his stomach tightening. “What do you mean by that?”
“I said what I meant.”
“You know Rose has no wealth, no property.” Wilhelm couldn’t imagine his brother giving up the prospect of finding a rich heiress to make his fortune. And he knew Rupert’s desire to become the bishop was connected to the clergyman’s opulence.
“Why don’t you go find your conjurer and stop trying to be my conscience?”
A prickly heat crept up Wilhelm’s neck. If Rupert dared to hurt Rose…“Just don’t try what you did with the maid at the inn in Heidelberg.”
The Healer's Apprentice Page 7
