The Wandering Harlot (The Marie Series Book 1) Read online

  Unintentionally, she smiled sadly. “How can I know that? Love and happiness come with marriage, so they say.”

  “I wish that for you,” Michel replied, “but I doubt it. According to everything I’ve heard, Rupert is a cold, calculating person who would sell his own grandmother to get ahead.”

  Marie shook her head indignantly. “How can you say that? You don’t even know him.”

  “I’ve heard things from travelers in the tavern. That counselor of yours is a well-known attorney who has helped his father, Count Heinrich von Keilburg, many times with legal tricks in order to take away other people’s castles, land, and servants.”

  “Why is that so bad? The count only got what he was owed.” Marie was irritated that Michel was spouting the idle talk of drunken tavern guests. He was apparently so jealous of her fiancé that he sought her out just to slander him. Disappointed, she turned and resumed working on the neglected dough.

  Michel stormed away, but he got only as far as the kitchen door before he hesitated, turned around again, and walked back to the table. But Marie just waved him off and bent down even closer over her work. Clenching his fists, he searched for the right words to make her understand that she was headed for disaster if she married the notoriously crooked lawyer. The man had already brought misery to many people by doubling the possessions of his cruel father.

  Michel started to speak several times, but Marie’s grim expression told him he had no chance of convincing her. Now he was annoyed that he had bothered to lug over the beer keg instead of having one of his brothers bring it.

  “I’ll leave,” he said, hoping she would ask him to stay a little longer, but Marie just ignored him and energetically worked out the lumps that had formed in the dough.

  At the same moment, Wina returned, raising her eyebrows when she saw Michel.

  “I brought the beer,” he explained.

  “So where is it?”

  “Elsa and Anne took it down to the storeroom,” replied Marie, answering for him.

  “Those two are in the storeroom? I’ll go check to make sure those thieving magpies haven’t helped themselves to the smoked sausages.” Breathing heavily, Wina headed down the stairs and opened the trapdoor.

  Marie thought it unfair to call the two maids thieves just because they helped themselves from time to time to a mouthful of sausage or meat. But for the head housekeeper, it was a deadly sin that couldn’t be absolved even by the pope.

  Marie smiled to herself. Wina idolized the pope as a saintly figure, though that admiration was for the position in general, not for a particular individual. Idolizing a specific pope would have been hard, for at that time three princes of the church each claimed to be the head of Christianity. Marie didn’t know much about these things, but her father and his friends frequently talked about the holy church when they were sitting around drinking wine, loudly proclaiming their hope that the emperor would strike the priests down with a bolt of lightning, putting them in their places.

  Michel cleared his throat, bringing Marie back to the present. He was still standing there with pleading eyes, but she didn’t want to hear any more from him. The next day she would become the counselor’s wife and start a new life in which there would be no place for the insolent son of a taverner. From then on, her servants would deal with such people, as she would have to manage the household and devote herself to her husband. She didn’t know where she would live after the wedding. Counselor Rupert didn’t own a house in Constance but instead lived in Keilburg Castle, his father’s home. She wondered if he would take her there.

  Wina emerged at the top of the cellar stairs, shoving the scowling maids ahead of her. “You’re still here,” she snapped at Michel. Reaching into the leather purse she carried on a cord around her chubby waist, she pulled out a coin.

  “I suppose you’re waiting for your tip. Here, take it!” Michel thought Wina’s gesture expressed the great difference in status between a gentleman like Rupert Splendidus and himself, and he was tempted to throw the coin at her feet.

  Michel didn’t know what he had thought he might accomplish by coming here. Marie had clearly long forgotten him and was looking forward to becoming an important man’s wife. He knew she would never be happy with Rupert, but it wasn’t within his power to save her from her fate. Sadly he turned around and left without saying good-bye. In the yard he dropped the coin on the ground in disgust.

  II.

  Master Matthis was feeling good about himself. Nodding proudly, he eyed his friends and guests. His two friends and business partners, the cooper Jörg Wölfling and the linen weaver Gero Linner, couldn’t take their eyes off his future son-in-law, Counselor Rupert Splendidus, a respectable and mannerly man who knew how to behave in the presence of older and wiser people. Mombert Flühi also admired Rupert and didn’t bother hiding how jealous he was of his brother-in-law’s good fortune.

  Rupert Splendidus appeared neither arrogant nor excessively proud, but behaved quite modestly despite his high standing. His clothing was made of good material but was not flashy or faddish like that of most young people. His overcoat hanging on a hook by the door was of the finest brown wool, and his gray jacket was simple. His forest-green trousers fit tightly but were not offensively loud or garish like the trousers worn by other men from the better families.

  Indeed, in many respects Counselor Rupert was a man after Master Matthis’s own heart. Considered quite young for a scholar at the tender age of twenty-four, he nevertheless was already one of the advisers to Constance’s bishop, Otto von Hachberg. Most of the time, however, he was traveling on behalf of his father, Count Heinrich von Keilburg, one of the most influential men in the area and subject only to the kaiser. Master Matthis had seen the count only once, but he knew exactly which Rhine and Danube estates the man owned in addition to his ancestral castle in the Black Forest. Yet the difference in their social standings did not seem to trouble Master Matthis. As the bastard son of a servant woman, the counselor could not expect an inheritance, and all of the family possessions would instead be passed on to Konrad, the count’s legitimate son. The situation created the perfect opportunity for the union of the counselor and Master Matthis’s daughter.

  Master Matthis’s personal wealth made him feel pleasantly secure. In addition to his father’s house in Constance, he owned an equally impressive estate in Meersburg, as well as some of the best vineyards on the lake’s north shore and an excellent winery. His international trade had amassed him even more of a fortune.

  His great wealth was evident in his home. As was commonplace in leading families’ homes, dark wood paneled the walls, and the ceilings were brightly painted. A large table imported from Italy stood in his favorite room, where he regularly entertained his friends. It had elegantly wrought legs and a top inlaid with silver plates where elegant goblets stood ready to welcome his guests. The windows were hung with embroidered brocade curtains carefully selected to blend with the arched, yellow bull’s-eye windowpanes.

  Matthis Schärer raised his goblet again and toasted his guests. In contrast to the others, Rupert only sipped his drink. Though afternoon had not yet given way to evening, he could see how much Master Matthis had already imbibed, further evidence of the man’s pleasures of good wine. His broad, somewhat uncouth face was flushed above his corpulent figure, and his astute gray eyes that usually searched for every business advantage were now dull and bloodshot.

  Rupert’s smile broadened as he handed Master Matthis two large parchment sheets full of writing. “I’ve prepared the contracts just as you wished, Father-in-law. Please make sure everything is proper.”

  Master Matthis admired the counselor’s straightforward approach to his upcoming marriage, feeling that he could safely entrust his daughter and his wealth to such a man. Picking up the parchment, he read it through carefully and was not disappointed. Rupert had stuck to their verbal agreements almost word for w
ord. He glanced at the part that guaranteed his daughter’s virtue and virginity, something he could attest to without any qualms as his daughter had always been a good child. In addition, Wina had watched like a hawk to make sure no man had approached her too closely.

  Master Matthis admiringly patted his future son-in-law on the shoulder. “Excellent! If you have no objection, we can sign the contracts at once.”

  “It would be a pleasure.” Counselor Rupert bowed and spread out both copies in front of Master Matthis, who beckoned to his secretary sitting silently in a dark corner of the room. Linhard was a tall, haggard man with thin, light blond hair, a narrow face, and sharp features; his devotion to his employer seemed almost obsequious. But Master Matthis didn’t notice and thought very highly of him.

  The secretary bowed to Master Matthis and hurried to the office. Shortly after, he returned with a small tray on which he had placed a silver inkpot, a container of quills, a small knife, and some sealing wax.

  Master Matthis picked up one of the quills, shaved it to a fine point, and dipped it in the inkpot. He glanced once more at the most important passages of the marriage proposal and signed his name on the parchment. Heating the sealing wax over a candle, he dripped the wax onto the document beneath his signature, then pressed it with his signet ring.

  Linhard now handed the tray with the writing utensils to Counselor Rupert who then applied his own seal to the contract and passed it on to the other men to verify and sign.

  Amazed, Master Jörg stared at the document. The bride’s rich dowry was described piece by piece, followed by a listing of her father’s assets that would be hers upon her father’s death. At last he thought he’d solved the riddle of why the esteemed son of one of the mightiest noble families was wooing a girl whose grandfather had fled to the city as a bondservant and only later, through hard work and a favorable marriage, had acquired wealth.

  Master Matthis watched his old friends as they read the document, and he took great satisfaction at their stunned expressions. Members of well-placed families had never viewed either him or his father, Richard, as their equals, but rather saw them as runaway slaves who were merely tolerated in the city despite their growing wealth. Richard Schärer had succeeded in amassing a fortune despite local opposition, and Matthis had increased it almost tenfold. Today, Matthis had finally outdone them all, and even the patricians of Constance would be envious of his son-in-law.

  Matthis Schärer remembered how the nobleman had asked for his daughter’s hand. At first Matthis had thought it was a bad joke. But Counselor Rupert had courteously reminded him that no one else in Constance or anywhere for many miles around could offer such a generous dowry for his daughter.

  Jörg cleared his throat and turned to Rupert. “Excuse me for asking, Counselor, but I would be interested to know why your father didn’t have you trained in the knightly arts, as is customary in noble circles, but instead made you a man of books.”

  Rupert’s narrow lips broadened into a hint of a smile. “I was very frail as a child and not suited for training as a fighter, so my father judged it better to train me as his secretary and later have me study law.”

  It was apparent that the men were thinking that most illegitimate children of noblemen weren’t given such preferential treatment, so Rupert had to be special. The counselor enjoyed their admiration even though it served as a painful reminder of his past.

  From the time of Rupert’s birth, Heinrich von Keilburg had taken no interest in him, and so he spent his unhappy childhood living in a remote, drafty corner of the castle with the servants. Only after the castle chaplain had reported to the count what a good head his bastard son had on his shoulders did his life change. Heinrich sent him to the Waldkron monastery, whose monks were known for their strictness, and inquired once a year about his son’s progress. Rupert was instructed only superficially in theology but drilled in grammar, rhetoric, and the basics of law.

  Count Heinrich had learned by painful experience that rules and laws could be more dangerous than swords, and he wanted a counselor who would support him in all matters. When he felt Rupert was ready, the count sent his illegitimate son to study law at the new university in Heidelberg. Rupert was aware that life would not give him such an opportunity more than once, and he did everything possible to succeed, surprising his father by graduating summa cum laude.

  Later, Rupert served Count Heinrich and occasionally his friend Hugo, the abbot of the Waldkron monastery, as a legal counselor, winning one trial after another. His reward for this service, however, was far below his expectations, as Count Heinrich spent money only on himself. Even Konrad, his legitimate son, was given so little that he could not afford the trappings of his noble rank, but at least Konrad did not go hungry.

  Now, the counselor turned Matthis’s elegant, bejeweled wine goblet around in his hand and pondered the course of his life, allowing his gaze to wander over the remnants of the sumptuous meal. From now on he would live as he chose, indulging in pleasures of which he had only dreamed.

  A knock on the door woke Rupert from his reveries. Standing in the doorway, Marie raised her hand shyly to get Master Matthis’s attention, blushing as she smoothed her simple gray dress. “Excuse me, Father, if I disturb you. The carriage drivers left the bales of cloth out in the yard, and it looks like it may rain. Someone must put a canvas over them.”

  Master Matthis looked at his daughter gratefully. “The material is too valuable to get wet. Linhard, go and help the servant, and in the meantime Marie can fill our goblets. Mine is already empty again.”

  Marie filled the goblets without looking at the man with whom she would be spending the rest of her life and for whom she had an instinctive dislike. She felt like throwing herself at her father’s feet and begging him to reject the counselor. But now it was too late—she saw the signed contracts on the table that bound her to the counselor. The wax seals looked to her like smears of blood, and she had to turn away. With lowered eyes, she served the men until Linhard and the servant returned, then left the room with a bow directed more to her father’s friends than to her future husband.

  Watching her leave, Master Jörg turned to Master Matthis with a twinkle in his eye. “Your daughter is a rare jewel. The counselor must be eagerly anticipating the joys awaiting him in the marriage bed.”

  The linen weaver had also partaken liberally of the good wine and told an off-color story that made them all burst out laughing. Rupert’s face showed no emotion, however, and he let the risqué remarks about the coming wedding night pass without comment. Now and then he stroked his chin as if his thoughts were engaged with something quite different.

  III.

  Long after Marie and the maids had gone to bed, the men sat up celebrating. No one noticed that the counselor was only taking sips from his goblet while the other guests had theirs filled repeatedly. Master Jörg’s words became almost incomprehensible, but that didn’t keep him from telling long, tedious stories.

  “You’ve got to admit you could have done worse than my niece,” Master Mombert said, placing his arm around Rupert’s shoulder and drawing him closer. “If I may give you some advice as an experienced man to someone younger . . .” He didn’t finish sharing his wisdom, however, for at the same moment someone banged loudly on the courtyard gate.

  “I’ll go and have a look,” Linhard said, leaving the room before his master could react.

  Breathless, he returned shortly. “Counselor, there is a man downstairs who urgently needs to speak with you.”

  “Why didn’t you bring him up?” Master Matthis asked angrily.

  Linhard was trembling all over as if he’d seen a ghost. “The man wishes to speak privately with the counselor downstairs.”

  “If that’s the case, I’ll have to go down.” Rupert arose and took his coat from the hook as protection from the cold night air. As the sound of his footsteps died away on the stairway, the
remaining guests looked at one another questioningly. “It wouldn’t be a messenger from his father, forbidding the marriage, would it?” The smirk on the linen weaver’s face showed clearly how pleased he would be with this turn of events.

  Master Matthis dismissed this possibility with a vigorous wave of his hand. “We have signed and sealed the marriage and inheritance contract, so Counselor Rupert has no choice but to marry Marie tomorrow.”

  His brother-in-law, Mombert, nodded in agreement. “It would also be foolish of Counselor Rupert to pull back. After all, my niece brings more wealth into the marriage than the dowry given by Count Eberhard von Württemberg to his daughter Ursula. And her bridegroom was, after all, the count of the Rheinburg district.”

  But when Rupert returned, his face was flushed with anger. He stopped in front of the master of the house and looked down at him with disgust. “Matthis Schärer, you’re a wretched swindler! Your so-called virtuous daughter is nothing less than a loose, unprincipled hussy.”

  The effect of this statement was as strong as if the house had collapsed around the four men. Jörg Wölfling and Master Gero looked at each other in shock but also with a certain malicious satisfaction while Mombert’s gaze wandered uncertainly back and forth between his brother-in-law and the counselor. Several times, the master of the house began to speak, but all the wine he had enjoyed now paralyzed his tongue, and he was unable to comprehend the significance of the accusation.

  “Someone is telling you a pack of lies, Son-in-law. I’d stake my life on my daughter . . .” he finally said.

  “And lose. I have a witness who can swear it is true.” Rupert nodded at Linhard, who left the room and returned shortly thereafter with a powerfully built middle-aged man wearing a coach driver’s rough clothing. His bright eyes darted over the room, stopping at Master Matthis.

  Rupert pushed him forward to the table. “This is Utz Käffli, a carriage driver I know to be an honest and good man.”