He tightened his arms around her, stroking her shoulder. “I vow to you, Rose, that I will love you so tenderly, you will never feel unloved again.”
Rose closed her eyes and let the words soak in. She listened to his heart beating, rhythmic and steady beneath her cheek. She had grown up as a woodcutter’s daughter, a nobody. Only Geruscha—and God—had known the truth, and God had made it so her whole world knew her to be Duke Wilhelm’s betrothed—someone, someone who had a rightful place in the castle, in the ruling family. It was as if she’d been transformed in the blink of an eye. No, not transformed. She’d been the daughter of a ruler, a princess all along. She just didn’t realize it.
A sudden knock at the door made Rose jerk herself upright. Frau Geruscha walked in. Rose tried to stand but Wilhelm held her firmly about the waist, preventing her. Rose’s face heated at the picture they must present to her mistress.
Frau Geruscha smiled. “I will take Lady Rose to her new chamber, ” she paused, “when she is ready.”
His hand resting possessively around Rose’s waist, Wilhelm said, “One more moment, if you please, Frau Geruscha.”
Frau Geruscha bowed and left the room.
She sank back against his chest and sighed. “You are the best thing that could have happened to me.”
“And you are the best thing that could have happened to me.”
Rose breathed a prayer of thanks for the beautiful sunshine streaming through her window on her wedding day.
She tried not to move as Hildy and several of Duchess Godehard’s maids helped her dress. Of the many fine gowns the duke and duchess had brought her, Rose picked out a lovely pale blue velvet one with elaborately embroidered gold-silk borders at the neckline, down the front, and along the hem. Tiny pearls shimmered in the fitted bodice. Over this gown the maids fastened a velvet robe of royal blue. They left her hair hanging loose, as was the custom for brides, brushing her chestnut waves until they seemed to glow with a light of their own. Then they placed a gold circlet on her head, entwined with white and pink flowers.
They started to apply paint to her face.
“What are you doing? What is that?” Rose baulked at the white powdery paint. Wilhelm had never seen her wearing cosmetics, and why should he be shocked today? She consented only to a little lip color.
Next, they dabbed her with perfume, which smelled pleasant enough, a mixture of flower oils and spices from the Holy Land, they told her. Lastly, for good luck and prosperity, they tied a band of blue ribbon around her wrist.
She ran down the stairs, happy to be free from so many ministering hands, and entered the Great Hall. Wilhelm stood near the door, his lips pursed, as though impatient with waiting. When he saw her, his expression changed.
He crossed the room in long strides and took her hand. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured, and kissed her fingers. He pulled her close to his side and gazed at her face as though he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
The joyous procession of family members—most she barely knew—led her and Duke Wilhelm from the Great Hall of Hagenheim Castle through the courtyard and into the cobblestone streets that wound toward Hagenheim Cathedral, where they were joined by throngs of towns people.
The girls preceding Rose and Wilhelm wore and carried ribbons of all colors. The rainbow of ribbons danced merrily with their movements as the giddy maidens bounced and skipped their way to the church.
Walking beside her soon-to-be husband, her hand warm in his, Rose hardly noticed the cold air on her cheeks. She couldn’t stop smiling. Wilhelm smiled too, but she noted the tension in the squint of his eyes and knew he’d be glad when the merrymaking was over. The thought made her laugh, remembering what Osanna and Rupert had once said about him not being able to relax and enjoy himself.
Wilhelm squeezed her hand and eyed her suspiciously. “What’s so amusing?”
“You could smile a bit more. You don’t look half as happy as your family and guests.”
He leaned toward her until his forehead touched her temple. “No teasing. Or I’ll stop the procession right here and kiss you into submission.”
And wouldn’t this crowd love that? She knew how weddings were. Should the couple actually kiss in front of them, the people would cheer and shout lewd suggestions, hoping to persuade them to kiss some more. Wilhelm was bluffing.
She laughed again. Then she gave him a coy half-grin. “You could try. But I’d rather you waited until no one else was around.”
He squeezed her hand hard, but the way he smiled showed he was pleased—and that he looked forward to doing just that.
Soon they reached the door of the cathedral. The priest stood waiting for them. The merrymakers in front of them melted away and Rose and Wilhelm stood together before the huge stone church.