The Healer's Apprentice Page 8

  Rupert’s reply was strained. “Your advice is duly noted. I thank you.” He turned his back on Wilhelm and strode down the hall.

  Wilhelm resisted the urge to go after him, to spin him around and make him swear never to try any of his disarming tricks on Rose.

  He would like to think Rupert’s intentions were honorable and he was only angry because his older brother didn’t trust him. But Wilhelm suspected Rupert’s anger arose from the fact that he had come too close to the truth.

  Certainly if Rupert chose a wife without a sizeable dowry, Wilhelm could, and would, make sure Rupert’s life was comfortable. And if Rupert fell in love with a respectable maiden like Rose, perhaps he would be willing to settle down at the manor house that rightfully belonged to him and live a comfortable life in the country. At least, that was what Wilhelm had always hoped for him. Rupert certainly wasn’t the right man to lead the Church.

  Despite his hopes, he found it hard to imagine Rupert settling down. After all, he was only twenty-one years old. And hadn’t he proven himself licentious and immature during the past two years while they were away in Heidelberg?

  But Rupert’s interest in Rose aroused Wilhelm’s anger more than he dared explore. She was not one of the dissolute wenches Rupert frequently spent time with. Surely Rupert realized that. If he didn’t, Wilhelm vowed he would impress the fact on his brother in terms he could not mistake.

  He sighed and turned in the direction of the southwest tower. It was time to have his stitches taken out. And time for him to stop thinking about Rose. Past time. He should never have allowed himself to dwell on her beauty, her unaffected manners, her sweet but determined temperament…

  Wilhelm shook his head. He was doing it again.

  Rose turned the crank on the side of the stone well. Water sloshed in the bucket at the end of the rope. As it neared the top, the handle turned slower and she pulled harder. Finally, the full bucket came into view, and she unhooked it from the windlass. Wrapping both hands around the handle, she hefted it off the short stone wall of the well. She made her way across the castle courtyard toward the southwest tower, inching along and sloshing water on the ground around her feet.

  A shadow crossed her path and she glanced up. Lord Hamlin stood three steps in front of her.

  “May I?” He took the bucket from her, wrapping his big, sunbrowned hand around the handle.

  “Thank you.”

  He started in the direction of the tower without looking at her, carrying the bucket easily with one hand.

  Rose pushed the hair out of her eyes. She couldn’t help but contrast the way she must have looked the night before—her curls elegantly piled on top of her head, her colorful silk dress gliding across the dance floor—with how she looked today. This morning her hair trailed over her shoulders and down her back in a disheveled mass, and she wore the same ugly green kirtle she’d worn the day she sewed up his leg. She had scrubbed the blood stain until it was so faint she didn’t think anyone would notice.

  “I was just on my way to Frau Geruscha’s chamber to get my stitches out.” Lord Hamlin stared straight ahead.

  “Oh.” Today?

  “I was supposed to come yesterday.”

  “Frau Geruscha is here. It won’t take her a moment.” Thank goodness I won’t have to do it.

  They reached the door and Lord Hamlin stood back to let Rose go in first. Rose tried to take the bucket from him, but he pointed into the storage room. “Do you want this in there?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Rose watched as he set the bucket on the floor, his shoulder muscles straining against his white linen shirt. He looked around. “You have a lot of herbs in here.”

  “Yes, Frau Geruscha knows everything about medicinal herbs.”

  Frau Geruscha must have heard their voices, because she called from the second floor, “I’ll be down in a moment!”

  Lord Hamlin and Rose wandered back into the main chamber.

  “What is this?” Lord Hamlin strode over to the desk by the window.

  “The Bible.” Rose stopped in the middle of the room, several steps away. “It belongs to Frau Geruscha, but she lets me read it.”

  His face softened and his eyebrows quirked upward. “The Bible? That’s my favorite book.”

  He did that thing with his eyes again, exchanging wordless information with her own. He seemed to say, “It pleases me to know you read it.” An inexplicable happiness flowed through her.

  Uh-oh. Her imagination was doing a Hildy again.

  “Frau Geruscha taught you to read Latin as well as German?”

  Rose nodded.

  “Lord Hamlin.” Frau Geruscha’s voice caused Rose to jump. “You’ve come to have your stitches removed, I presume.”

  Frau Geruscha stepped into the room from the dark stairwell. Her starched wimple covered her graying hair. “Sit here on the bed and stretch your leg out so we can have a look.”

  Lord Hamlin sat down on the bed and pulled off his boot. He was wearing footless hose and pulled them up until they exposed his stitches.

  “Oh, my.” Frau Geruscha leaned over his leg. “You healed faster than I anticipated. Some of the stitches have become a touch embedded. But that’s no matter. Come here, Rose.”

  Rose hurried to Frau Geruscha’s side.

  “Rose, I want you to remove the stitches.”

  Rose’s heart sank. What could she do? If she refused, Lord Hamlin might realize how embarrassed she felt touching him, and Frau Geruscha would be disappointed in her. If she hoped to be a good healer, she couldn’t shirk such a simple task.

  Frau Geruscha stood to let Rose take her place. Rose swallowed her panic and sat down. She kept her eyes focused on Lord Hamlin’s stitches.

  “Here.” Frau Geruscha handed her the small shears with sharp metal points.

  Rose looked at them, then down at Lord Hamlin’s white leg and the black stitches. She couldn’t help glancing up at his face. He gave her a slight smile.

  Does he know I have no idea what I’m doing, that I’m embarrassed about touching him, and terrified of disappointing Frau Geruscha?

  She should project confidence, not fear and timidity. She had seen Frau Geruscha do this before. It was a simple thing to clip the stitches and pull them from the flesh. Yes. Simple, easy. She could do this.

  Rose leaned down. She drew close to the skin with the shears, then straightened again. “Frau Geruscha, will you make sure I do this correctly, please?”

  “Yes, Rose, of course. Go ahead.”

  She drew near again, pretending to work on a stranger’s leg. I simply have to get the stitches out…efficient, quick.

  But some of the stitches were embedded. She placed the points around the knot at the end, which had sunk into the skin. She pulled on the catgut with her fingers and tried to get between the knot and the skin with the points. Then she snipped. Oh no. Red blood seeped from the knick she’d inflicted.

  Wilhelm let out a hiss of pain.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She grabbed the cloth Frau Geruscha was holding out to her and dabbed at the blood. “Frau Geruscha, you had better do this.” Leaping to her feet, she upset the stool, which clattered onto the floor. Her face burned.

  “No, no, you’re doing fine. There’ll be a little blood. The stitches don’t want to come out now that the skin is beginning to grow over them. You must just snip and then give them a little tug.”

  Rose knew that the blood had come from her pricking his leg with the shears and not from the embedded state of the stitches. Some healer she was!

  Frau Geruscha addressed Lord Hamlin. “A little blood is to be expected.”

  He smiled as though amused. “Sorry I made that noise, Rose. Snip away. You won’t hurt me.”

  With a slight tremor in her hand, she picked up the stool, righted it, and sat down. She bowed over his leg and concentrated. Carefully she slipped the end of the shears under the first stitch and clipped it with a soft snap. No blood. But now she had to pu
ll out the embedded stitch.

  First she would snip all the stitches and then remove them. She cut the next stitch and the next. Her eyes watered as she forced herself not to blink. But so far, no more blood.

  Was it just her, or was it hot and stuffy in the room? A lock of hair tickled her forehead, and she took a swipe at it with the back of her hand.

  “You’re doing fine, Rose.” Frau Geruscha stood near, watching.

  Rose snipped again and again, finally reaching the last knot, which was so embedded, she had the same problem as with the first one. She pulled on it, hard, until it slipped from the skin. A little blood oozed out, and she dabbed at it with the cloth. “Sorry.” She looked up at Lord Hamlin and winced.

  He laughed. “It’s my fault for not coming sooner to get them taken out.”

  He was only being kind. Nobles never took the blame for anything.

  But Lord Hamlin was not an ordinary noble. She suddenly felt blessed by this chance to be so near him again, even if it meant dealing with his wound.

  She pulled the rest of the stitches out one by one, but Lord Hamlin didn’t complain or even flinch.

  “I thank you, Rose.” He gave her a smile as she finished.

  “Shall I bandage it for you?”

  “It is well. Hardly any blood—”

  “Yes, you should,” Frau Geruscha broke in. “A bandage may help prevent festering.”

  Lord Hamlin had started to rise but sat back down and lifted his leg onto the bed again.

  Rose took a small bandage from the shelf and wrapped it twice around his leg before cutting it off and tying it in place. Frau Geruscha made small talk with him while Rose fiddled with the leftover bandages. She heard Lord Hamlin stand.

  “I thank you again, Rose.” He hesitated, as though considering his next words.

  “Please excuse me, my lord.” Frau Geruscha bowed to Lord Hamlin. “I must go back upstairs for a few minutes.”

  “Frau Geruscha.” He nodded to her.

  How extraordinary that Frau Geruscha would leave her alone with a man. But that man was Lord Hamlin, who radiated honor and goodness like the sun radiates warmth. And he was leaving anyway.

  Except when he turned his eyes back to Rose, he didn’t seem in any hurry to go. “We have a library in the castle. There are several books there you might be interested in. I should have offered the use of it to you before. You are most welcome to borrow any volume you wish to read.”

  Rose’s smile broadened and she looked at the floor. “To be honest, my lord, I have been borrowing books from your library for half a year.” She glanced up to see his surprised expression. “I hope you will forgive me, but I never take them out of the castle, only to Frau Geruscha’s chambers, and I take great care of them.”

  “You know that books are very expensive. I’m afraid it’s a serious offense to take a book without permission.” He tightened his lips, as though displeased, but his eyes twinkled. Rose found it strangely hard to take a breath.

  He laughed. “I’m glad you were able to be so…resourceful.”

  She started to breathe again.

  A figure darkened the doorway. “Ah, Wilhelm!”

  Lord Rupert ducked his head to step inside the chamber and Rose inwardly cringed. She had forgotten to talk to Frau Geruscha about going riding with Lord Rupert.

  “I came to see Rose, and I see you beat me here.”

  The two of them stood face-to-face, their arms tense by their sides, eyeing each other at three paces. Rose wanted to say something to break the tension but couldn’t think of a single word.

  “Rose, I trust you are well this morning.” Lord Rupert turned away from Lord Hamlin and smiled, though his eyes did not mirror the emotion.

  “Yes, I thank you.”

  Lord Rupert cut his eyes back to his brother. “Do you have business here?” His voice sounded tight.

  “As a matter of fact, I was just leaving, but it’s fortunate that I’m still here, since you should not be alone with an unmarried maiden.”

  “And yet you are here.”

  “I was just leaving.” A muscle twitched in his jaw.

  “No one’s stopping you.”

  “I believe I’ll stay.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  Silence ensued, and neither man moved. Rose shifted from one foot to the other, her shoulders starting to ache with the tension. She had to say something. “I’m not sure if I can go riding today, Lord Rupert. I haven’t asked Frau Geruscha yet.”

  “Riding?” Lord Hamlin raised his brows at Rupert again. “Not without a chaperone.”

  “I thank you for pointing out the obvious, brother. The fact is I have been unable to locate a suitable chaperone, which is what I came to tell Rose.” Under his breath, he muttered, “Not that it’s any business of yours.”

  At that moment they heard Frau Geruscha making her way down the steps to the first-floor chamber. When she appeared at the bottom, Lord Rupert brightened. “Good morning, Frau Geruscha.”

  “Good morning to you, Lord Rupert.” Geruscha’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Could this get any more awkward?

  “Frau Geruscha, I would like to take Rose riding, but we have no chaperone. Would you be able to come with us?”

  Frau Geruscha looked from one face to another. “I could not be gone long, in case of any emergencies.”

  “Oh, I promise we shall return very soon, Frau Geruscha.” Lord Rupert’s voice rang with eagerness.

  Her jaw hardened. “One hour. I can allow no more.”

  “Yes, I promise.” He turned to Rose and leaned toward her, seeming to forget that anyone else was in the room. “I’ve picked out the gentlest mare in the stable for you. I shall have you riding like an experienced horsewoman in no time.”

  Frau Geruscha scowled.

  Lord Hamlin’s face darkened, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. He nodded at Rose. Then he turned and left.

  Chapter 8

  Lord Rupert held the reins of a gray mare, already saddled for Rose.

  “She’s beautiful.” Rose rubbed the horse’s neck, so big and warm, her short hair so different from Wolfie’s long fur.

  A stable hand led out Rupert’s huge Belgian warhorse. His white mane and tail contrasted with his honey-colored coat. Another stable boy brought out a dappled mare for Frau Geruscha.

  Rose’s father had always been too poor to own a horse. That hadn’t stopped her girlish fascination with them. Many times she had gazed into the big brown eyes of the wealthy burghers’ horses. A favorite game was deciding if the animal was gentle and sweet, or strong-willed and wily, simply from the way he looked back at her.

  Rose patted the mare’s shoulder and then stroked her forehead. She crooned softly near the horse’s ear, “What a fair lady you are, so strong and sleek.”

  “Ready?” Lord Rupert came over to her. His eyes were wide, reminding Rose of her little brother when he was excited about something.

  Rose nodded.

  “Put your foot into my hands and I’ll give you a boost. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”

  He looked so solicitous. It was ridiculous—almost as ridiculous as having her sit beside him at the high table during a feast.

  “I’m ready.”

  He touched the pommel of the sidesaddle. “Put both hands here to help pull yourself up.”

  Rose grasped it and took a deep breath. Lord Rupert bent low, laced his fingers together, and held them, palms up, by her leg. Not believing she was doing this, Rose placed her leather-clad foot into his hands. He boosted her, and Rose felt herself leave the ground. The next moment she was sitting in the saddle, gazing down at Lord Rupert.

  “I did it!” Exhilaration filled her and she laughed. She was actually sitting on a horse.

  Lord Rupert beamed. “You executed that perfectly. Horsewoman extraordinaire will be your new title.”

  Rose’s heart soared right out of her chest. Of course, it was daft of her, but his words of praise made her feel go
od.

  A “humph” sounded from her other side and she turned to look. Frau Geruscha was mounting her own horse with the help of the groom.

  Rupert gave Rose a few more instructions on how to guide the horse. “Whatever you do, hang on and don’t fall off. We’ll go at a slow walk until you grow accustomed.”

  Rose held on to both the reins and the saddle. She wished she could sit straddle, like a man. As it was, perched on her sidesaddle, she felt as though she would slide off at the slightest unexpected turn or jolt.

  Lord Rupert sat much higher on his massive horse, Gregor, but he stayed very close to Rose, giving her instructions—and multiple compliments—as they slowly headed out through the gatehouse onto the cobblestone Marktplatz.

  “That’s it. You’re doing wonderfully.”

  The horse obeyed her gentle nudges and one-word commands as they made their way through the town gate to the meadow where the shepherd boys grazed the sheep and cows. Rose couldn’t help smiling, sitting high atop her horse. And Lord Rupert couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her. He taught her, in rapid succession, the command to turn the horse around, to go left, to go right, and to stand still.

  “Are you ready to practice different gaits?” He hovered beside her.

  Rose nodded.

  First they went from a walk to a trot, surprising Rose with how much the slight increase in speed jolted her. When she grew somewhat accustomed to the rhythmic motion of the horse, he encouraged her to speed up to a canter. She did, gently pressing the mare’s side with her heels. She liked the feel of the wind blowing her hair, but her heart stayed in her throat. One false move and she’d hit the ground with a painful thud.

  “How do I slow down?”

  “Why do you want to slow down? You’re doing fine.”

  How would she stop? He hadn’t taught her that either. She felt completely at his mercy.

  Lord Rupert drew his horse even closer to hers. Eight powerful legs pounded beneath them. What if the legs got tangled up? They’d bring her, Rupert, and the two horses down in one mass. Her heart thumped hard against her chest.

  “Lord Rupert, I want to stop.”

  He didn’t speak, only reached over and grabbed her reins, pulling back gently. “Whoa.”