Perhaps Lord Rupert was the one who was different. Could he truly want to marry her? Lord Hamlin might be arrogant, but he wouldn’t lie about such a thing. After all, he’d practically written a proclamation that all men should stay away from her. Now he was trying to convince her that Rupert loved her and wanted to marry her.
She took a deep breath, contemplating this. Was such a thing possible? Lord Rupert so in love with her that he was willing to give up wealth and prestige? He was handsome, and the way he looked at her and spoke to her made her feel beautiful. If he truly wished to marry her, if he truly loved her…To be loved, truly loved, by the handsome son of a duke…It didn’t seem possible.
When Rose reached the town gate, she turned to look for Wolfie. There he was, walking beside Lord Hamlin.
So Lord Hamlin had followed her.
She expelled a burst of air. I don’t need you, Lord Holier-Than-Thou. Go marry your Lady Salomea, a woman you’ve never even seen.
The ungracious thought brought on a pang of guilt. After all, he’d been a good friend to her, and she had promised to pray for him to find the conjurer. Well, she would stay angry at him for a little while, but she would get over it. Then she would pray for him.
Lord Hamlin went away. And for the two weeks preceding Midsummer’s Eve, Rupert came to Frau Geruscha’s chambers almost daily to speak to Rose. He even contrived to take her on another riding lesson, teaching her how to slow her horse gradually to a stop. Every time his face appeared in the doorway, her heart would trip excitedly. But Frau Geruscha didn’t make it easy for her to enjoy his visits, with her glowering looks and unfriendly stares.
One day he found her alone, as Frau Geruscha had just left on an errand. Rose suspected he’d been watching the door, waiting for her mistress to leave.
He came inside and seized her hands, an excited glint in his eyes. “I have something for you.” He reached inside a small purse that hung at his waist and pulled out something shiny and silver. Her heart thumped against her chest as he draped the chain around her wrist and fastened the clasp.
“It’s beautiful,” Rose breathed. The bracelet gave her arm a delicate, feminine look and felt cool and smooth against her skin. The beautifully crafted silver rings of the bracelet caught the light. Her first piece of jewelry.
“Do you like it?” he asked softly.
“I’ve never seen anything so lovely.”
He still held her hands. His eyelids closed as he bowed low and pressed his lips against the bracelet. He then kissed the back of her hand. His lips lingered. Rose’s heart skipped erratically.
She had never been kissed before, not even on her hand. She knew Rupert’s actions were very inappropriate, but her face tingled and her mind registered how good and soft and warm his lips felt.
If Frau Geruscha should come in now and see them, Rose would be in deep trouble. She wasn’t sure what her mistress would do, but it would certainly be unpleasant. Things had already changed between them. Frau Geruscha’s manner had cooled toward her since Rose had not heeded her advice to tell Lord Rupert to stay away.
Rose took a step back, and Rupert looked up, still holding onto her hand. He drew her palm against his chest, pressing it over his heart. His eyelids drooped, darkening his light blue eyes. “Do you feel it? My heart beats for you, Rose.”
Rose frowned at his drama, even as her cheeks burned. She gently pulled her hand away and retreated a couple of steps, trying to calm her racing heart.
Neither of them spoke or even moved. After several moments, Lord Rupert broke the silence. “Midsummer’s Eve is tomorrow and I’ve planned a surprise for you.”
“Please, sit down.” She swept her hand toward a wooden chair in the corner. Perhaps if he was seated she could force him to keep his distance.
He picked up the chair and carried it to her desk, placing his chair next to hers.
She leaned away and tried to sound lighthearted. “So what is my surprise?”
“Oh, I can’t tell you all of it. Just that you must sit with me at the feast tomorrow. Then you must go with me to the Marktplatz for the festival fires and dancing.”
“Must?” Rose stared him down.
Lord Rupert placed his hand over his heart and sighed. “Will you please accompany me tomorrow”—he lowered his voice to a husky whisper—“my dearest, sweetest, most beautiful Rose?” An intense light glowed in his eyes.
“Yes.” She gazed into his face until she realized she was staring at his lips and he was staring at hers.
“What’s this?”
Rose jumped to her feet, a guilty, prickly sensation washing over her at seeing Frau Geruscha enter the room. She remembered the bracelet and stuck her hand behind her back.
“Frau Geruscha, good morning. How are you this fine day?”
Rose marveled at Lord Rupert’s calm greeting. Frau Geruscha’s disapproval never ruffled his cool demeanor.
“Well, I thank you.” Her voice sounded icy.