“His eyes were very black, as if something evil was staring out of them.” Rose shrugged. “I suppose that sounds silly.”
Lord Hamlin shook his head. “Not at all.” He stared at the floor. The silence dragged on as he sat motionless.
Finally, Rose spoke up. “Were you able to get closer to finding Moncore on your trip?”
Lord Hamlin sighed then clenched his jaw. “No.” He shook his head. “Every time I go looking for him, I hear he’s in our region again.”
“What does he looks like?”
“I’ve only seen him once. He’s tall, with black…hair, mixed with white…and black eyes.”
Lord Hamlin and Rose stared at each other.
Frau Geruscha gave a startled little squeak.
“You don’t suppose…?” Rose didn’t finish her sentence.
Wilhelm knew what she was thinking, of course. But if Peter Brunckhorst and Moncore were the same person, why would he be after Rose?
He stood and began pacing the floor. “This Peter Brunckhorst is playing at some sort of deception. Why else would no one know him by that name? Perhaps he and Moncore are one and the same.” He turned to Rose. “What did he say to you when he grabbed you?”
Rose looked like she was thinking hard. “It didn’t make sense. I’m not sure I can remember. Something about me being the darling of the duke’s family, and about my face giving me away. Just nonsense. He said I wouldn’t get away from him. Then he pulled out a small pouch of powder.” Rose shuddered and wrapped her hands around her arms.
A thought hit him like a fist between the eyes. What if Rose is Lady Salomea? He turned away from her, covering his eyes so he could think, but his thoughts were racing in a mad circle. He grabbed one and held on. Why else would Moncore want to harm Rose? It made perfect sense. If this Peter Brunckhorst was Moncore, then Rose must be his betrothed.
There was one way to find out. He and his mother were just discussing this a few days ago. Lady Salomea was eighteen. On her nineteenth birthday, two weeks before Christmas, the Duke of Marienberg planned to take her out of hiding and bring her to Hagenheim for their wedding.
He spun around to face her. She looked wide-eyed at him. He didn’t doubt that at that moment he probably looked like a wild man.
He grabbed her arm. “Rose, when is your birthday? How old are you?” His heart stood still while he waited.
She stammered, “Five weeks before Christmas. I-I’m seventeen.”
He felt as if he’d just been punched in the stomach. He let go of her arm and stumbled back.
He should have known. It had been a foolish thought. But now he was reeling from the disappointment. He turned away again so Rose and Frau Geruscha couldn’t watch him as he tried to recover his composure. He leaned his elbow against the stone wall and covered his face with his hand.
For a moment he’d been the happiest man in the world.
“Lord Hamlin? Are you all right?”
Rose peeked around his left side. He looked a bit like he had the day he came in to get his leg sewed up. Why had he asked her how old she was? Was he thinking that she might be his betrothed? Rose would have to think about that later, because he finally opened his eyes.
His features softened as he held her gaze. He heaved a great sigh. “I’m sorry, Rose,” he whispered. “I wish someone had been there to protect you.”
“I did reasonably well for myself, I think.”
He gave her a sad smile. “Yes, you did.”
There it was again, that something that passed between them when he locked eyes with her. Rose hoped Frau Geruscha didn’t notice it. She immediately thought of Lord Rupert and felt a stab of guilt.
“I…I’d better go.” Lord Hamlin pushed himself off the wall and stood, towering over her. He seemed taller than his brother, perhaps because he was broader in the shoulders and thicker in the chest. He had a protective, chivalrous aura about him, and Rose wanted to enjoy it, if only for a moment. He had thought, for a moment, that she was his betrothed. She was sure of it. And had been disappointed that she was not. That meant he cared for her, perhaps even loved her. It was such an amazing thought that Rose felt dizzy, and for a moment her vision blurred.
He surprised her by taking her hand in his. “I’m glad you’re all right.” He said the words softly, almost whispering. Her whole arm tingled at his gentle squeeze.
“Thank you.” Rose got lost in his dark blue eyes.
He was getting married soon. She’d have to forget about him then. They couldn’t stare longingly into each other’s eyes anymore. This was the last time. Ever.
He let go of her hand and walked out the door.
Why did Frau Geruscha have to be so hard on Lord Rupert?