I wish I were dancing with Lord Hamlin.
The unbidden thought made her catch her breath. She tried to ignore it and concentrate on the steps.
Lord Rupert never once glanced away to look at his feet or at any of the other dancers, but kept his eyes focused on her face. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was truly enamored of her.
They came to the part of the dance where the men had to kneel while their partners danced around them in a tight circle. Lord Rupert went down on one knee so quickly it startled Rose. His head tilted up to her, and he placed his hand over his heart. His eyes held hers.
Rose’s heart skipped a beat at his flirtatious look. Of course, that’s all it was. He was flirting with her, and after the dance was over he’d go dally with someone else. This was his way of enjoying himself at a party, no doubt.
Rose danced around Lord Rupert then took her place in front of him. Now it was his turn. She stood still as he began his slow dance around her.
Her insides were quaking again. Everyone was staring at them, the woodcutter’s daughter and the only eligible son of the ruling prince of Hagenheim. She took a quick peek at the musicians. Lord Hamlin was looking down at his lute. He lifted his head and Rose quickly looked away, not wanting to see his reaction.
When the dance was over, Lord Rupert took her hand and bowed over it, gazing up into her eyes. “I thank you, dearest Rose, for dancing with me. You are a most…delightful…partner.” He tucked her hand inside his elbow. “Come. Let me introduce you to my mother. She’s anxious to meet you.”
Rose resisted the urge to bolt for the door. Instead, she walked slowly, as Frau Geruscha had taught her, with her shoulders back and her chin high.
Heads turned as they walked by, but Rose looked straight ahead, too afraid of what she would see in the guests’ faces. When she glanced up at Lord Rupert, he smiled.
The duchess stood conversing with Osanna and Lady Anne. They turned to face Lord Rupert and Rose as they approached.
“Mother,” Lord Rupert said, “I would like to present Rose, our gifted healer and storyteller.”
“I am delighted to meet you, Rose.” The duchess took Rose’s hand from Lord Rupert.
“Your Grace.” Rose curtsied, her heart in her throat.
“I wish to thank you for your service to Lord Hamlin.” There was a coldness in the woman’s eyes that did not match the graciousness of her words.
“It is my pleasure to serve.”
“Lady Anne, this is Rose. She is our healer’s apprentice. Rose, this is Lady Anne, daughter of Alfred, Duke of Schweitzer.”
“A healer’s apprentice. That sounds like interesting work.” Lady Anne was as tall as Rose, rather attractive, with delicate features. Her skin was so pale it was transparent, revealing bluish veins between her eyes and on her neck. A small cap hid most of her light brown hair, and little gold bells dangled from a belt around her waist.
Rose recalled Hildy telling her that bells were very much in fashion.
“I hope you will like it here at Hagenheim Castle,” Rose said.
“I thank you.” Lady Anne smiled back.
At least she wasn’t cold or haughty, if she did turn out to be Lord Hamlin’s betrothed in disguise.
“Rupert.” The duchess’s face brightened. “I insist you take Lady Anne as your partner for the next dance. Go and be a good host to our guest.”
Lord Rupert hesitated, glancing at Rose. She hoped he didn’t anger his mother by slighting Lady Anne—especially on her account.
Finally, he held out his hand to Lady Anne.
Lady Anne smiled and took his hand. He looked back at Rose, but she avoided his gaze and focused on Lady Osanna and her mother. Lady Anne’s bells jingled as she and Rupert crossed the room to join the dance.
Just then a young man in a fashionably cut doublet and enormous puffed sleeves approached Lady Osanna. “Will you honor me with this dance?”
“Yes, I thank you.” Lady Osanna turned to Rose. “Pray excuse me, Rose.” They hurried away as the music started.
The duchess folded her hands over her waist and faced Rose, boring into her with blue-gray eyes. “I trust you are enjoying yourself?”
“Yes, your grace. I enjoy music and dancing.” Rose’s head started to ache, whether from holding up her hair, or from the strain of trying not to say or do anything wrong in front of the duchess, she wasn’t sure.
“Let me introduce you to some people.” The duchess’s glance settled on a red haired young man standing alone. She beckoned him with a slight “come hither” movement of her fingers.
The young man arrived with a bow. The pleasant smile on his freckled face put Rose at ease. “Your Grace.”
“Gunther, I’d like you to meet Rose, Frau Geruscha’s new apprentice. Rose, this is Gunther Schoff. His father is a scribe.”
She said those last words so archly, Rose was sure she meant, “This young man is closer to your social status.”