After thinking it would be his last day on earth, that he would die in disgrace, instead Gunther would marry the woman he loved today. And Wilhelm had to admit, he envied Gunther at this moment. His mourning had turned to dancing and his hopeless waiting had turned to joyful anticipation. But Wilhelm’s waiting had not ended, as one week before Christmas he would marry a woman he’d never met. Meanwhile he was a failure, having failed to accomplish the task that would ensure her safety. And Rose…she would marry his brother.
He hoped no one could guess his thoughts and feelings. Better that everyone think he was indifferent to the people involved, that he was only doing his duty in reminding the bailiff of the ancient ordinance. Let them think that he wasn’t particularly happy for Gunther and Hildy, and that, at the same time, his heart wasn’t aching with emptiness and loss. Because he’d rather they didn’t know that for the first time in his life, he wished he was an ordinary man instead of Wilhelm Gerstenberg, Earl of Hamlin, the future duke of Hagenheim.
With the vague realization that she was dreaming, Rose continued picking flowers in the misty meadow near the castle. But they kept slipping through her hands and disappearing, so that no matter how many she gathered, she never had more than two or three nestled in the crook of her elbow.
Stepping high through the tall, wet grass, she made her way to a thick stand of pink gladioli. But when she reached them, only one remained—skinny, dried up, and brown.
She raised her head. Someone was walking toward her from the other side of the meadow. Lord Rupert smiled and held out his arms to her. She wanted to run to meet him but her legs turned to stone, so heavy she had to pick her leg up with both hands to make a step.
When Lord Rupert finally stood before her, she held out her arms to him. But he wasn’t Lord Rupert at all. He was Lord Hamlin, and instead of smiling, his dark blue eyes gazed intently into hers. She fell into his arms, allowing him to pull her against his chest. He felt so solid and warm against her cheek as she listened to his steady, beating heart.
Rose woke with a start and gasped. The dream had seemed so real. She could still feel the sensation of being held, the hardness of his chest against her cheek.
She pulled the sheet up to her chin and squeezed her eyes shut. Why had she dreamed about Lord Hamlin? O God, forgive me. I didn’t mean it. I should love Lord Rupert, not his brother…
Oh no. It is true. In her heart, Lord Hamlin was the one who inspired her admiration and respect. When she saw Lord Hamlin for the first time in weeks, she’d felt elation. And when he saved Gunther from being hanged…she had looked at him and loved him.
But that’s wrong, God. He’s as good as married. It was Lord Rupert who loved her, and she should love him. If Lord Rupert married her, he would help her family. Her brother and sisters would have a better future.
Lord Hamlin will marry his betrothed in a few months, and I will be happy for him, and happy for her too. I promise I will, God. I must.
Rose rolled the clean cloth between her fingers as she and Frau Geruscha made bandages for future use. Rose didn’t mind the boring work. She was so restless these days, it suited her to keep her hands busy while her thoughts were free to wander.
“Good morning.”
Rose’s heart leapt into her throat. Lord Hamlin stood in the doorway with his usual serious expression.
“Good morning, Lord Hamlin,” Frau Geruscha answered. “Please come in.”
Rose stood and curtsied, her thoughts going involuntarily to the dream she’d had a few hours ago.
“Our bailiff has spoken with me about the man who accosted Rose while I was away, and I just wanted to hear the facts from Rose, to try and plan our next course of action.”
His eyes focused on Rose. She fidgeted with the roll of bandages. She would scold herself if she thought it would stop her heart from pounding.
“Tell me what you know about this man.” He fixed his eyes on hers, and she strove to mirror his businesslike expression.
“Not very much. He approached my mother after he said he saw me in the Marktplatz. He said his name was Peter Brunckhorst and he wanted to marry me.”
Lord Hamlin swept his hand toward her chair, indicating she should be seated. He dragged the wooden bench in front of her and sat facing her. Rose glanced at Frau Geruscha, who continued rolling the bandages, but her eyes darted back and forth between Rose and Lord Hamlin.
“Had this man bothered you before? Was he the one who grabbed you in the Marktplatz at the May Day festival?”
“How did you know about that?”
“I saw him and tried to help, but Wolfie got there first.” He turned and looked at Wolfie, who took it as an invitation and lay down at Lord Hamlin’s feet. Lord Hamlin rubbed him behind the ears.
“Yes. He told my mother he was a wool merchant. But no one in town has ever heard of Peter Brunckhorst.” Rose frowned at the strangeness of it.
“Describe him to me, everything you can remember.” He leaned forward, propping his arms on his knees.
“He’s tall, about your height, very thin, and he has black hair with streaks of white in it. He has a pointed chin and rotten teeth.”
“Is there anything else?”