The Healer’s Apprentice

“We’re here.” Lord Hamlin loosened his grip on her hand and Rose let go. “As soon as I get these steps in place and raise the door, you can come out.”

 

 

“Lead Shadow out first. It’s amazing how well he behaves. He must trust you completely.”

 

Her hand felt bereft and cold without his warmth, but it still tingled pleasantly. She resisted the urge to press it against her lips and cheek.

 

“Shadow’s the best horse I know.” Lord Hamlin worked to get the wooden steps in place, then walked halfway up and pushed open the trapdoor with his forearm and shoulder. The horse stepped carefully up and out of the dark, dank tunnel, snorting and nodding his head, obviously happy to be above ground again.

 

“Your turn.” Lord Hamlin held out his hand from where he stood halfway up the steps.

 

“Thank you.” Rose placed her hand in his. His grip was strong and confident as he led her up the steps and onto the grass.

 

The moon bathed them in its pale light as they stood facing each other.

 

He still held her hand in his. When he lifted his other hand toward her face, her heart stopped. She didn’t move as he brushed her cheek with his fingertips, sending a pleasant tingling warmth through her.

 

“Dirt—from the tunnel.”

 

“Oh.” Rose reached up and rubbed the spot where his fingers had touched. Her hand shook.

 

His dark blue eyes shimmered strangely as he fixed her with an intense stare. “If there’s ever anything you need, will you tell me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You’d better go.” Gruffness infused his voice again. “Frau Geruscha will be worried about you.” But he continued to hold her hand.

 

She was enthralled with the look on his face and with the way he had come to her rescue tonight. She waited with a strange anticipation—for what, she didn’t know. She wondered when he would let go of her hand and let her leave.

 

Instead of letting her go, he lifted her hand to his lips, his eyelids closing, and slowly kissed the backs of her fingers. She held her breath at the rush of pleasure his lips created as they brushed softly over her skin. A tiny sigh escaped her.

 

I shouldn’t let him do this.

 

“Good night.” She could barely squeeze the words past the knot in her throat.

 

He released her hand.

 

Rose swayed ever so slightly, feeling cold and shaky. She forced her legs to hold her up and her eyes not to look at him. She clutched his cloak under her chin and walked toward the tower and Frau Geruscha’s chambers.

 

Once inside, she leaned against the door and pulled the cloak higher, burying her face in the lining and breathing deeply. Forgive me, God. Only let me have this one pleasure. And she took another deep breath, letting Lord Hamlin’s manly, leather-and-horses smell envelop her in a sweet cocoon of warmth, before she took it off and hung it by the door.

 

She stared at it. No, she would not take it to her room. She would leave it right there.

 

 

 

 

 

Wilhelm watched her go, his heart aching. His conscience smote him for kissing her fingers, as well as for the thoughts he’d just entertained. God, forgive me.

 

So much for his promise to never touch her again.

 

How he had wanted to forget who he was for one moment, forget his duty and everything else, to pull her into his arms and kiss her with every ounce of his passion.

 

He rubbed the back of his hand across his brow, wiping the sweat that had beaded there. Then he remembered Shadow and grabbed his reins, leading him toward the stable.

 

His thoughts turned to Rupert as he systematically unsaddled his faithful horse, brushed him down, and forked some fresh hay into the stall. When he finished, he hastened into the castle, hoping to find his brother still at supper in the Great Hall.

 

The servants were cleaning up when he entered and reported that Rupert had left a few minutes earlier, taking a full tankard of wine with him.

 

Wilhelm stalked down the corridor in search of Rupert. He met him coming from the direction of the privy. Striding up to him, Wilhelm drew his fist back and landed a clean blow to Rupert’s jaw.

 

Rupert reeled, and after two wobbly backward steps, hit the floor on his backside. He raised a hand to his face.

 

“Feel better?”

 

“No. Get up so I can hit you again.”

 

“I think I’ve had enough, thank you.” Rupert flexed his jaw, dabbing his bloody lip with the back of his hand.

 

Wilhelm stared down at him with a burning urge to expend a lot more energy on his brother than one single blow. His fists were tight and ready, but his louse of a brother seemed unwilling to get off the floor.

 

Fine. Stay there. He spun on his heel and strode down the hall. He went inside his bedchamber and closed the door.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 22

 

 

“Rose? What’s wrong?”

 

Three weeks had passed since Lord Rupert’s odious proposal. Rose knew she’d been quieter than normal, and Frau Geruscha had to have noticed that he wasn’t visiting her anymore. Her mistress hadn’t questioned her about it, and Rose had tried not to raise her suspicions that something was wrong. Obviously, she was failing.

 

Rose shook her head. “Nothing.”

 

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