The Healers Apprentice (7 page)

He was waiting for her to lift her hand so he could kiss it. Her heart jumped, but she stood motionless, her head slightly bowed. Finally, he let his hand drop.

“Until tomorrow night.” He winked then turned and sauntered toward the castle.

Wilhelm sat in the Great Hall with the musicians. It was the last day to practice their songs for the ball, and he was anxious to learn this new one.

As he strummed the strings of his lute, his mother swept in, her skirts dragging behind her. She crossed her arms. He cringed inwardly and pretended not to see her.

With that lofty air of hers that he disliked, she said, “Son, may I have a word with you?”

“Of course.”

The musicians started to rise from their stools, but Wilhelm motioned for them to remain seated. “I’ll return in a moment.”

He followed his mother into the hallway.
Here it comes.

“Now, Wilhelm, I know you usually prefer not to dance. However, I love to see our guests having a good time, and there are sure to be several young ladies who shall need partners.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but his mother rushed on. “And more important, this is only Lady Anne’s second week here. I would like you to make her feel at home by dancing with her.”

“I’ll give you three reasons why I cannot.” He forced himself not to smile at her dire expression. It would only provoke her. “I am betrothed. You and Father have warned me—more times than I can count—that I must guard my heart. Dancing is not conducive to that end.”

“Yes, but—”

Wilhelm held up a finger. “Wait. I have two more reasons.”

She crossed her arms and pursed her lips.

“I’m also helping to provide the music, which means I can entertain more of your guests by
not
dancing. Third, I’m injured, or had you forgotten? You wouldn’t expect me to dance on this gashed-up leg, would you?”

“You hardly limp at all now. Our dances are not so vigorous that you couldn’t attempt at least every other one, resting in between.”

“Ah!” said a loud voice from behind Wilhelm.

Rupert strode toward them and clapped him hard on the back. “My brother wouldn’t give a fig for dancing, would you, Wil? He loathes it. As for me”—Rupert inhaled audibly, pushing out his chest—“I am prepared to dance with every woman in the room, whether she be fair or not.” He wrapped his arm around his mother’s shoulders and drew her to his side. “Don’t worry, Mother. I’ll keep the whole room entertained, to the best of my ability.”

“Of that I have no doubt, but I ask you to spare my nerves and contain yourself. No carousing.”

Wilhelm glared at Rupert.
He’ll carouse—if he gets drunk.
Wilhelm planned to have a talk with his brother.

Rupert had already shaken off his mother’s plea and turned to Wilhelm. “I met our talented little storyteller-healer, Rose. The one who sewed you up.”

“Yes.” Wilhelm studied his brother warily.

“Well, she’s a beauty, is what I say. Very well could be the fairest maiden at the ball tonight.”

Wilhelm despised the eager look in his brother’s eyes. It reminded him of an incident involving Rupert and a serving wench back in Heidelberg. The thought turned his stomach.

“Yes, the dear maiden,” the duchess said affectionately. “I am anxious to meet her. But I hardly think you would be interested in her, Rupert. Her family can have neither money nor noble connections. In fact, I believe her father is a woodcutter. But perhaps I’m mistaken.” She shook her head as though it were not possible.

“No, it is true, Mother.” With effort, Wilhelm held his voice steady.

“We are grateful to her for what she did for you, Wilhelm, to be sure. But instead of our healer’s apprentice, Rupert should have his eye on Lady Anne.” The duchess lowered her voice, looking pointedly at her younger son. “Laws being what they are and you being the younger son, you must make prudent life choices.”

“Lady Anne!” Rupert cried.

His mother put one finger over her lips and looked at him sternly.

“Lady Anne is spoken for, Mother, or have you not heard the rumors that she is Wilhelm’s betrothed?” With a gleeful smile and a raised eyebrow, he turned on Wilhelm.

Wilhelm fought the urge to throttle his brother.

“I don’t believe that.” His mother’s voice was hushed but firm. “I don’t know where Wilhelm’s betrothed is, but I know
who
she is. She is the daughter of Godehard, Duke of Marienberg, not the daughter of Duke Alfred of Schweitzer.”

Rupert shrugged. “Rumors nearly always have at least an element of truth, Mother. You’ve said so yourself, many times.”

The duchess frowned.

“But don’t worry about me. I’m destined for the Church, remember? I think I’ve persuaded Father to make me the new bishop.” He faced his brother. “Don’t you think I’d make an ideal priest?”

“No. I think you should wed.” Wilhelm didn’t like this conversation. If he weren’t still considering giving Rupert the pounding he deserved, he would escape back to the musicians and his lute.

Rupert chuckled. “Ah, my brother knows me too well, I suppose.” He gave Wilhelm a friendly pat on the shoulder before starting down the hallway. “I’ll see you both tonight.”

Rupert. Always happy when there’s a party to go to or a woman to seduce.
But if he dared set his sights on Rose…

“As for you,” the duchess said, turning her eye on Wilhelm, “I hope you will enjoy yourself tonight.”

“Yes, Mother, I’m sure I will.” He stared at the iron sconce on the stone wall of the corridor, hardly seeing it. Instead, he saw Rose, as she’d sat on the sunny, grassy hill several days ago.
“I’m sure I won’t know anyone,”
she’d said. The wind blew a strand of chestnut hair across her cheek at that moment, giving her a vulnerable look.

Wilhelm blinked to clear the memory from his mind. “Mother.”
He looked into her faded blue eyes. “Please be kind to Rose. Remember what she did for me. I fear the other guests may look down on her because of her father’s occupation.”

“Oh.” His mother’s mouth opened in surprise, as though it had never occurred to her to be concerned for someone who might feel out of place. Her own self-assurance made her oblivious to such feelings in others. “I think she will enjoy herself immensely, having never been invited to anything so grand.” Her face took on a disdainful look. “She should feel honored.”

Wilhelm made an effort to unclench his teeth. “I’m sure she will be appropriately grateful. Just don’t slight her, that’s all I ask.”

“Of course not, son. You always were the thoughtful one.” She smiled and patted his cheek in a way that made him frown. She sighed. “I promise I will treat her with courtesy, not that I wouldn’t anyway. But I shall make an extra effort, since you are so concerned.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

Rose sat up straight on the low stool in her new dress. Hildy stood over her, piling Rose’s curls on top of her head.

Outwardly, Rose was nearly ready, but every time she thought about entering the Great Hall and facing a room full of elegantly dressed people, her stomach threatened to heave its contents.

She’d thought she wouldn’t know anyone at the ball. Ha! The maidens from town, especially the daughters of the guild presidents, were sure to single her out for ridicule. Then there was Osanna, Lord Hamlin’s sweet sister. While she appeared to like Rose, Osanna couldn’t possibly realize what a bumpkin Rose was, someone who fell out of trees and would probably look just as clumsy attempting the dances.

Lord Hamlin. He had talked to her as though she were his peer, but perhaps only because he had happened upon her outdoors—certainly an informal setting. Would he ignore her at the ball? She was beneath his station in life. She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t even acknowledge her tonight.

And yet, if she had not panicked and run away from him that day under the beech tree, how long might they have talked? He was chivalrous in both the way he behaved and the way he looked at her, so different from other men. He seemed so honorable, she felt safe with him.

Besides, he was betrothed.

And then there was Lord Rupert. She had only glimpsed him a couple of times since he and Lord Hamlin arrived home three weeks ago—until the day before, when he’d given her flowers.

She wasn’t sure what to make of him. Lord Rupert had the polished manner of a person from whom compliments were free-flowing, but she had to admit, it felt good to be called “beautiful” by the son of a duke.

“Stop fidgeting!”

She sat still and let Hildy finish her hair. She couldn’t see herself, since Frau Geruscha didn’t own a looking glass, but she felt like a peasant dressed up to look like someone else. The dress had turned out beautifully. The gold silk skimmed the floor and the brocade bodice was studded with tiny pearls. The enormous sleeves hung from her wrists to the floor and were lined and cuffed with a dark cinnamon-red fabric.

Frau Geruscha would escort her to the ball. Her mistress didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by the prospect. Rose wondered again about Frau Geruscha’s family. She hadn’t yet summoned the courage to ask her about her background, but her family must have been wealthy, since she could read and write Latin and had lived in an abbey in preparation for becoming a nun. She wondered what had caused her to leave the abbey.

Frau Geruscha may not have felt intimidated by the nobles and prominent burghers who would attend the ball, but Rose did. She hoped she could find a hiding place in the Great Hall where she could listen to the music without being seen.

The thought of seeing the tradesmen’s daughters, who considered themselves in a higher class than she, made the sick feeling in her stomach worse. She thought of meeting Lady Anne, the daughter of a duke, possibly Lord Hamlin’s betrothed. Her stomach balked at that too, so she closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing. That didn’t work, as Lord Hamlin’s face immediately appeared in her mind.

“Oh, Hildy, I’m scared to death to go to this ball. You should go in my place.”

“I only wish I
could
go. There!” Hildy took her hands away from Rose’s hair, staring at Rose from head to toe. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

As if on cue, Frau Geruscha entered the room. Rose turned to face her mistress and watched her gray eyes grow round. “Rose, you look truly…like a princess.” Frau Geruscha smiled.

Rose smiled back. “You look very elegant too.” The rich green of her mistress’s velvet gown shimmered in the firelight.

Frau Geruscha held out her hand. “Shall we go? I hear music.”

Rose took a deep breath, turned to Hildy, and hugged her.

“Don’t!” Hildy shrieked. “You’ll wrinkle your gown.”

“Thank you, Hildy, for doing my hair. You’re the best friend anyone could have.”

“So are you.” Tears stood in Hildy’s eyes.

Looking at Hildy, Rose vowed silently that if there were to be any more balls in her future, she would figure out a way for her friend to attend the next one.

But tonight she had to face the crowd without her. She walked toward Frau Geruscha and linked arms with her.
I can do this. I can do this.
She held her head high—she could hardly do otherwise, since her hair made her neck ache when she bent her head in any direction.

Breathing deeply, she willed herself to stay calm. She glanced at her mistress from the corner of her eye. So content and casual were her features, Frau Geruscha looked as though she were simply walking to the market to buy herbs. She must have been at least five and forty years old, but her skin was smooth, and she was a handsome woman.

As they walked slowly down the castle corridor toward the Great Hall, Rose whispered, “Frau Geruscha, I’m afraid. Promise me you won’t leave my side.”

“Be not afraid, child. All will be well.”

Rose’s heart pounded harder than ever. The blood pulsed at her temples and she took another deep breath.
I can do this. I can do this.

As they approached the door of the Great Hall, she heard the band of musicians start to play another tune. Frau Geruscha patted her hand. “Just enjoy the music.”

Wilhelm glanced up just in time to see Rose
walk in. His jaw fell. Her hair, her dress, her face…She made everyone else in the room look pale and lifeless.

He’d better close his mouth before someone saw him staring.

Her gaze turned in his direction and he smiled to let her know he approved.

He suddenly realized that he had stopped playing in the middle of the song. He looked down and tried to concentrate on his lute. But his mind was filled with her image.

A pang of guilt stabbed him. He must stop this nonsense. It was unwise to…well, to even look at her.

He tried to concentrate on the music, but when he glanced up again, Rupert was striding from the other side of the room toward Rose. He reached her, bowed, and placed his hand over his heart. He must be asking her to dance. A knot tightened around Wilhelm’s chest.

So this is how jealousy feels.

Though on the outside Rose managed to control her trembling, her insides were quaking. The Great Hall seemed to stretch on forever. She’d never seen a room so large. The musicians played, sitting on stools near the south wall. People stood talking in small groups all around the room.

Lord Hamlin’s eyes found hers. She was a little surprised to see him with the musicians, but she forgot about that as her heart flipped at his gentle smile. At least she had one friend in the room, even if he couldn’t come and talk to her.

She observed him for a moment while his deft fingertips strummed over the lute’s strings. Watching him play comforted her, and some of her anxiety slipped away.

She pretended not to see Lord Rupert staring at her from across the room, walking toward her. He couldn’t possibly be coming to her. But when she could no longer doubt that he intended to speak to her, she turned to face him.

He bowed first to Frau Geruscha. Then he bowed to Rose, one hand over his heart. “Rose, we are honored that you have come tonight. You are the most beautiful woman here.”