“We’ll head into the hills to search among the caves for the den,” Wilhelm said over his shoulder.
Rupert’s expression looked woeful. Why was he here, missing the chase for a stag? They were likely to be out all day, charging through the trees to hunt for a wolf they probably wouldn’t even find. Rupert hated the terrain of the mountains, which was slow and tedious, not at all like crashing through the forest, ducking limbs, and following the shouts of the other hunters.
Wilhelm wondered again what his brother was up to.
When the sun had climbed high into the sky, they stopped to let the horses rest and take a drink from a stream that tumbled down a rocky slope. Wilhelm stood by his horse as he drank. Georg and Christoff were out of earshot, checking the stream bank for wolf tracks.
Rupert approached him. “Brother, I want you to know that I have the best intentions toward Rose.”
Wilhelm’s eyes narrowed as he looked at him. Finally, he turned away, staring into the beech trees across the bank. “I’m listening.”
“I know you think I’m not to be trusted around women.”
Wilhelm continued to look straight ahead. Maybe this was why Rupert had come with him. But he had a bad feeling about what his brother was about to say.
“I suppose I deserve that reputation. But I’ve confessed my past sins. Perhaps you think me incapable of committing to only one woman.”
Wilhelm glanced at Rupert. He was starting to sweat, and he looked uncomfortable, as though he was choosing his words carefully.
“You would be wrong to think that about me, Wilhelm. I know Rose is the maiden I want to commit to, and I swear I won’t betray her.” He wiped his face with his sleeve.
Wilhelm kept his head turned away, hoping Rupert couldn’t read the thoughts racing through his mind. His throat suddenly felt thick and dry and he swallowed, hard. His brother sounded sincere, but that thought only made him remember all the shallow, selfish things Rupert had done in the past.
“Why are you telling me this?” Wilhelm turned suspicious eyes on him.
“Because Rose doesn’t trust me, and you and Osanna are doing nothing to improve me in her eyes. If you aren’t going to help my suit, you could at least not make me out to be a scoundrel.”
There was a long pause as Wilhelm wrestled with memories, of both his brother and of Rose.
After a long pause, Rupert said, “I swear I’ll be good to her. I know she’s a favorite of yours.”
What made him say that? Guilt soon gave way to anger, but Wilhelm strove to make his voice sound calm and even. “I think of her as a sister. That is all.”
“She is the one for me. If she’ll have me, I vow to love her only and to take care of her for the rest of her life. Please believe me.”
“If that is true, then I wish you joy.” He grabbed the reins of his horse. “Let us be off,” he called to his men. He swung his leg over his horse’s rump and guided them toward the wolf’s trail.
The rest of the castle had long retired to sleep, but Wilhelm paced back and forth over his bedchamber floor, still clothed in his white shirt and hose. He never allowed his servant to undress him. He disdained the idea of allowing others to do things he could do himself.
Wilhelm liked to think of himself as competent, able to accomplish any task worth doing. But now…
He was helpless against this ache in his chest—in his heart.
He would force himself to picture Rose with Rupert, imagine them married, holding hands, kissing. Even though it made him feel like retching. He would think of her as the future mother of his nieces and nephews. He must think of her this way, since he could never have her. If she married Rupert Gerstenberg she would at least be safe and well cared for. The name alone would protect her. No one could molest or harm her, and she would be able to live comfortably. It was the best thing that could happen to her.
But why did it feel like the worst thing that could happen to him?
He was betrothed. He had a future wife of his own. Never had he struggled with his thoughts for a woman. Not like this. Why did she affect him so much?
Because he cared for her.
If he were completely honest, he didn’t want Rupert to marry her, because he wanted to marry her himself. It was a grievous sin indeed.