Lord Hamlin still lay prostrate, his face to the ground, motionless. What was he thinking? Was he embarrassed that he had thought Lord Rupert was going to ask her to marry him? Was he sorry for her hurt feelings and broken heart, or merely sorry he was to blame for making her think Rupert wanted to marry her? For causing her to trust him?
She hugged herself and shivered as a night breeze brought out chills along her arms. She wished she had not shrunk back when he reached out to her. At this moment his strong arms could be holding, warming, comforting her.
She closed her eyes. Of course he wouldn’t have put his arms around her. This was the man who had issued a proclamation saying that no man could touch a woman who wasn’t his wife or sister—and it seemed impossible now that she would ever be either to him.
Slowly, he raised himself and sat back on his heels. His eyes glistened as he locked his gaze on her.
“I’m so sorry.” His voice was low and hoarse. Anguish creased his forehead. “Please forgive me. Forgive me for my arrogance. Forgive me for telling you I thought—Oh, Rose. Rupert is a scurrilous knave. You didn’t deserve this…Will you forgive me?”
Her heart pricked at the pain and tension etched on his face. She shook her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I was arrogant, so pharisaical to believe that you would be better off marrying Rupert just because my family…”
He stared out at the sunset. His face glowed in the pale orange light, which played up his strong, square jaw and his prominent brows and deep-set eyes. “I was wrong, obviously. You are the virtuous one, Rose. You are the one with honor and pure love. It emanates from you. How my brother could have ever thought you would go along with such a plan…”
“He didn’t think it was wrong, doesn’t see it as a sin,” Rose said quietly.
Lord Hamlin scowled, his jaw clenching. “He knows better than that. He was only trying to make you believe it. He’s a manipulator, a rogue, a—”
“It’s all right. Please.” Rose shook her head. “Nothing’s hurt except my pride.” And my heart.
She pondered that thought. Pain filled her heart, yes, but she was surprised to detect a little relief hiding there too, relief that she wouldn’t be marrying Lord Rupert after all. She hadn’t trusted him. She hadn’t truly loved him. Did she even know her own heart? She obviously was a poor judge of other people’s.
“I was wrong too, for thinking Rupert was selfless enough to give up wealth and power for love. I never dreamed my father would actually give him the bishopric. Please forgive me for trying to convince you it was best that you marry him. You were always too good for him.”
“Please, Lord Hamlin, you don’t have to defend me this way. I’m under no illusion about my status or prospects.”
He looked at her a moment, as if about to speak. Then he stood abruptly and turned away. Gripping the pommel of his saddle, he leaned his head against his horse’s neck.
She hugged her legs to her chest, making sure her skirt covered her feet. She laid her cheek against her knees, tired from all her crying, and marveled at the cool, self-possessed Lord Hamlin leaning against his horse as though for support. How could the two men even be brothers? She couldn’t imagine Lord Rupert ever feeling so deeply sorry for anything. Would he ask forgiveness for arrogance? Would he care about a maiden’s wounded sensibilities? Would he cry over a brother’s lack of virtue?
It seemed so clear now. Lord Rupert was a self-seeking lout. He would have broken her heart a million times had he actually been man enough to give up prestige and power to marry her. With Lord Rupert as a husband, how many nights would she have cried herself to sleep? She had been caught up in the attention he showed her. She had to admit, it had made her feel good. He was handsome and he was desirable, in a worldly sort of way. And she had allowed herself to trust him. She’d even let him kiss her. Her stomach roiled at the remembrance.
What a fool I am.
But then, he had fooled Lord Hamlin too. But she was the biggest fool. She hadn’t listened to Frau Geruscha, hadn’t even listened to her own doubts.
The sun’s light quickly faded, leaving them with only a slight glow in the sky. The tiny crescent moon wouldn’t be much help, especially with clouds rolling in. Rose remembered hearing howls as a child, lying in bed at night in her father’s cottage. She shuddered, imagining the wolves and bears emerging from their dens now, as night fell, to roam the forest.
Of course, she was safe with Lord Hamlin near. She glanced at the sword that hung from his belt.
She should get up and go back to town, before curfew began and they locked the city gates. Even now it might be too late to make it back. Lord Hamlin would have no problem convincing the guard to let him in, if indeed the gates were locked when they returned. But if she allowed him to walk her back and accompany her into the city after dark, people were sure to hear of it. What little of her reputation was still intact would be shredded before noon prayers.