“I am well.” Rose tried not to betray her nervousness, but she seemed to have lost all grace herself as she jerked the door closed and fidgeted with the beads hanging from her waist. She wasn’t sure why she felt so breathless. He was the same man, except for the fact that he was now the duke.
She finally remembered the appropriate words for the situation. “I want you to know how grieved I am about your father’s death. May God rest his soul.” Rose solemnly bowed and crossed herself.
“Thank you. Will you sit with me?” He swept his hand toward the wooden bench against the wall.
Rose sat and Duke Wilhelm took the space beside her. He looked away then brought his gaze back to her face. He shook his head and said softly, “You’re so beautiful.”
Rose felt turned to stone. What did he mean? How could he say such an improper thing?
“Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
Rose jumped. Frau Geruscha appeared from the storage room and smiled warmly at Duke Wilhelm.
Good. She didn’t hear him.
“Good afternoon, Frau Geruscha.” He stood and nodded to her but did not move away from Rose, even though his nearness to her should have drawn a frown at least from Frau Geruscha. Surely she wasn’t afraid of offending “the duke.”
“Let me say that I’m so sorry about your father,” Frau Geruscha said. “Is your mother well?”
“Yes, I thank you, as well as can be expected.”
She motioned with her hand. “Rose will take your cloak for you.”
Rose jumped up so quickly she bumped the bench and almost knocked it over. Duke Wilhelm unfastened his wool cloak and swept it off his shoulders, revealing a purple doublet over matching hose. His sleeves were white with intricate gold embroidery—clothes fit for a duke. He let Rose take his cloak and hang it on a peg on the wall.
“Well, I have a lot of work to do upstairs. I’ll be back down in half an hour.”
Rose stared after Frau Geruscha. What work could she have to do upstairs? And why was she leaving Rose alone with Duke Wilhelm, announcing to them that they had a full half hour of privacy? The woman was clearly going daft.
She turned to Duke Wilhelm. Remembering his last words to her, she blushed, trying to think why he would say such a thing.
“I need to speak with you, Rose. Will you sit with me?” he asked again.
Alarm welled up inside her. Could he mean to make some horrific proposal similar to Lord Rupert’s? Rose swallowed, trying to control her rising panic. But what choice did she have but to sit and listen? No one ever refused the duke anything. So she sat back down, clasping her hands together until her knuckles turned white.
He sat beside her and leaned forward, his forehead creasing as though in concentration. Then he clenched his fist on his knee and stood up, pacing the room. Even Wolfie lifted his head and stared with one ear cocked.
What was the matter with him? She opened her mouth to break the silence but he spoke first.
“Rose, do you remember when you took care of my leg, when I was gored by the wild boar?” He came closer then sat down again beside her.
“Yes, of course.”
“Well, I must confess to you that ever since that day…I’ve been struggling…with myself.” He suddenly stood again and strode across the floor, his hands clasped behind his back.
Rose hardly dared to breathe as she waited to hear what he would say next.
He glanced at her from the other side of the room then paced some more. “You’ve always talked to me as if I were a real human being and not the son of a duke. You’re genuine, gentle, and good.” He stopped and stared out the window. “I tried not to think about you. I even told God I would never touch you again after the ball when we danced together.” He turned his head to look at her. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to watch over you and protect you. I hated to think about you with Rupert, but I thought at least he would take care of you. But now—” He crossed the floor and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his.
Rose’s spine stiffened in surprise. Her heart raced at the fervor in his eyes.
“I love you, Rose, and I’ve figured out a way for us to be wed.”
Strange inklings of dread mingled with a surge of hope. She stared at him, wondering if she was dreaming again. She’d dreamed about marrying him so many times.
“In three weeks my betrothed is coming here, to the castle. But Rose, I can’t marry her. I tried to believe that I could love her, and I’m sure I could have had I not met you. But knowing you, Rose, loving you as I do, I can’t possibly marry someone else. So I came up with a plan.” He took a deep breath, still clutching her hands between his. “I will abdicate all my rights as the eldest son to Rupert, and he will marry Lady Salomea. We will switch places as it were, and I will inherit his manor and he will be ruler of Hagenheim.”
Rose took in his eager, expectant look, which softened to one of heart-rending tenderness. He bowed over her hands and began kissing her fingers, one by one.
“No.” Rose shook her head slowly.