“Rose! Lord Hamlin must have seen the way Peter Brunckhorst grabbed you.”
Rose’s breath stuck in her throat. She shook her head. “I hardly think it likely.”
“Oh, Rose, I think it very likely! Everyone knows there’s already a law that no man can molest a woman. Why would they make a new decree about it unless the duke—or his son—had seen something that aroused his ire and made him think the law wasn’t being heeded?”
“I know not.” Rose trudged toward the castle, wishing Hildy would talk about something else.
“You want to know what I think?”
“I think I know what you think.” Rose looked heavenward.
“I think Lord Hamlin is smitten with you and wants to protect you—after what you did for him when he was wounded. It must have been so romantic.”
“It wasn’t romantic at all!” Rose drew her eyebrows together, incredulous.
“But I do have some bad news.” Hildy’s tone turned somber. They now stood in front of the castle gate. Hildy grabbed Rose’s arm, making her stop and look at her.
“A lady is coming to stay with the duke’s family. She’s been boarding at Witten Abbey for the past ten years. Her father is a duke—or so it is supposed—from somewhere south of here, who spends most of his time with King Wenceslas.” Hildy leaned closer and whispered, “She’s eighteen. The same age Lord Hamlin’s betrothed would be. Rumor has it that she might be his betrothed, Lady Salomea in hiding.”
“I’m sure that cannot affect me.” Rose said the words as much for her own benefit as for Hildy’s.
“Well, it affects me.” Hildy sniffed. “I was hoping his betrothed no longer existed, that she died or something, and he would fall in love with someone else—like you, Rose.”
Rose couldn’t help but smile. “That’s sweet, Hildy, but not realistic.” How could Hildy possibly even entertain such an idea?
With a sudden burst of drama, Rose tilted her head and squinted at the early morning sun. “I strive to wish everyone well, even Lord Hamlin’s betrothed. As for me, I only hope that one day I shall be as independent as Frau Geruscha—no obligations except the ones I choose.”
She was surprised that her words didn’t elicit a laugh, or at least an amused smile from Hildy, as she had intended.
“There’s probably no man worthy of you anyway.” Hildy’s voice was unusually quiet.
Rose felt a stab of regret. Was her cynicism finally taking a toll on Hildy’s outlook? “That doesn’t sound like my Hildy. After all, we’re seventeen and in the prime of our beauty. Any day now two chivalrous men will sweep us onto their noble steeds and take us to their castles—or cottages, or whatever it may be—where we shall live happily forever after.”
Hildy’s shoulders drooped. “It’s seeming less and less likely, even to me.”
Rose stood on a stool while the Lady Osanna’s own seamstress measured her for a new gown. Things had happened so fast over the last few days, she hadn’t even had time to tell Hildy about all the new developments.
A lovely young lady had approached the entrance to Frau Geruscha’s chambers the day before and asked if she could enter. Lady Osanna introduced herself, smiling with her lips and her eyes. Barely sixteen, she had recently grown taller and thinner, and Rose scarcely recognized her. The young noblewoman asked after her health, made a comment about the weather, then said, “I enjoyed your story, Rose. We all did. I do hope you are writing more.”
Rose gaped at the duke’s daughter, whose quiet grace she had always admired, and the praise washed over her heart like cream over strawberries.
“I wanted to ask you to please come to the feast we are giving for our new guest. Perhaps you have heard that Lady Anne, the daughter of Duke Alfred of Schweitzer, has come to us.”
Rose forced herself not to stammer. “Yes, I heard she was arriving soon.” Was Hildy’s theory true? Was she only being passed off as Duke Alfred of Schweitzer’s daughter? It would make sense that they would want to keep Lady Salomea at Hagenheim Castle, where she’d be safe.
“We want to invite you and Frau Geruscha. It’s to be a week from tomorrow, with much music and dancing.”
A ball! Rose couldn’t possibly go. She had little idea of how to conduct herself at such an occasion. Several months before, as part of grooming Rose to be her apprentice, Frau Geruscha had made Rose take lessons to learn the dances of the nobility. But Rose wasn’t sure she remembered them. Besides that, she could hardly expect to know a single soul there.
Lady Osanna added, “The scribes and their families are invited, as well as the guild presidents.”
Which wouldn’t include any of Rose’s acquaintances. “That’s very gracious, I’m sure,” she murmured. How should she respond? She couldn’t be impolite.