Coins and Daggers (15 page)

Ulric smiled,
brushing his mouth against hers gently and then withdrew, marching
across the room. “
We
are going for a ride.”

“Us?”

“
Yes. As in,
you
and
I
.” Ulric leaned his weight against the edge of his desk and
opened his arms, beckoning her forward. “A picnic out in the cool
air sounds rather tempting, doesn’t it?”

“Aren’t you concerned about what they might
say? The servants, I mean? And Cook?” Audelia took his strong hands
as he reeled her into his arms. “To see you dallying with me?”

Ulric pecked her on the forehead, on the tip
of her nose and then on the cheeks. “In case you’ve forgotten,
Audelia, I’m the Lord Chastelle. I can do very much as I
please.”

Audelia
frowned and shook her head, pulling out of his hold. Moving up to
the long rectangular window, she sighed, gazing out into the
gardens. “I wasn’t speaking of
your
reputation, Your
Lordship, but mine. During the rest of my...time here, I’d like to
think that everyone else holds me in good regard.”

She could feel the warmth of Ulric’s
presence approaching, hear the brisk steps of his fashionable
boots. His breath warmed the back of her neck, followed by the
tight wounding of his arms about her waist.

“I shall try not to damage your reputation
overmuch with the rest of my staff ,” he whispered, his light tone
bringing a smile to her lips. “Though I have no intention of
reneging on my desire to give you a picnic in the meadow. I’ve been
thinking of it ever since I woke up this morning, missing your
refreshing scent.”

Audelia sighed and rest her head back
against him as Ulric’s lips sought out the slope of her neck. “You
do tend to be rather persuasive.”

“It’s a vital trait of mine.” He nipped on
her flesh and cupped her breasts through the thick fabric of a
plain gray dress. Her subtle lilac scent spread around him like a
potion, taunting and teasing him. “But you must do me one favor. I
demand it of you.”

Audelia spun in his embrace, running her
hands over his strong arms. Curious, she eyed him narrowly, her
lips twitching. “What is it?”

“When we are together, call me Ulric. I
believe we are long past formalities. And I... And I happen to like
the sound of it.”

“Alright,” Audelia conceded, her heart
warming at his gentle voice. “But I think I will call you Bryce,
instead.”

Chuckling, he tipped her chin and and held
her closer. “Is there any special reason for that?”

“It seems to add a little...softness to your
character.”

“Vixen!” Ulric’s chest rumbled with laughter
as he lifted her of her feet and plastered his mouth over hers with
a groan. “Dear god, I fear if I stay here with you any longer, we
shall not make it to the picnic.”

“Then come.” Audelia broke from his grasp,
rushing towards the door before he managed to reach for her again.
“I’ll even race you.”

They arrived at the meadows near the ruins
some fifteen minutes later, finding a suitable shaded spot, where
Ulric unrolled a red and white plaid blanket. They sat there for a
while, feasting on Cook’s infamous jelly-filled biscuits and cups
of lemonade.

“I hear the weather has never been so
favorable here before,” Audelia said, taking the last bite of her
biscuit.

“It’s true. It usually rains for long
periods of time, especially in the afternoons.”

Ulric rest his arm on one raised knee,
watching her. The cool mild breeze threaded through the ringlets of
her very dark hair. Hair that he had ran his fingers through
countless times. At the moment, it was caught in a thick single
braid that was pinned up tightly on her head. But he knew that,
when allowed to reign free, it dangled in wondrous inky waves
straight down her slender back and to an appealingly trim
waist.

“I’ve never seen such good weather either,”
Audelia confessed, gazing over at the burn-ridden stones of the
ruins. “Where I come from, it rains almost all day, everyday.”

Interest suddenly peaked, Ulric leaned
forward, draining the rest of the tangy drink from his cup. “And
where is that? What region of Bascain are you from, Audelia?”

She didn’t answer him right away but smiled
sadly and rest her chin against her knees a minute, before turning
to face him again.

“Camden,” she said, softly.

Ulric frowned. He knew of that district and
probably have only journeyed there a handful of times in his life.
It was not a small region either, perhaps a little larger than
Chastelle and far more hectic as well. But size wasn’t the detail
that mystified Ulric at all but the remoteness of Camden itself.
For a wench to travel so great a distance and end up in Thornea,
where he had found her, must not had been an easy task. The
district was possibly five miles or so outside of Chastelle and
that factor alone troubled him greatly.

How had she ended up so far from home? And
what had caused her to resort to thievery, of all things?

A thousand questions threaded through
Ulric’s mind as he sat there, considering the slight forlorn
expression on Audelia’s face. Something was troubling her and he
knew he would not be successful at learning what it was. Not by
her, in any case. Perhaps it was high time he’d taken a keener look
into Audelia’s circumstances and sought further information, lest
she was in some form of danger. Until then, he’d be content with
keeping her within the safety of Chastelle Manor whether she liked
it or not. In the meanwhile, he’d try his best to offer a shoulder
if she needed one.

“Apple?” he offered, grateful for the
reluctant smile she now sported, and slicing the fruit into four
equal parts. “And get over here before I’m forced to move you
myself.”

Sixteen

T
he sensations that threaded
through Ulric’s body and reached for the strings of his own heart,
reminded him much of when he was a boy. It reminded him of days
when laughter had been common and smiles were easily given.
She
reminded him of that. Turning over on his back, he gazed
through the entwining branches overhead and up at the clear blue
sky. Next to him, Audelia was sprawled on her belly, elevated on
her elbows and still grinning at some silly childhood memory he had
reluctantly shared. Ulric was not used to being laughed at--not for
the majority of his adult life, at least--but somehow he found the
sound of her giggles and titters to be quite comforting. And it was
always better to have her laughing at him and then to see even a
stitch of sadness in those beautiful brown eyes he was becoming to
love.

“You are a terrible liar,” she laughed,
batting away wisps and wisps of hair from her face. “You expect me
to believe that you had been the subject of jokes as a child.”

Well, mayhap he had exaggerated a bit but
the sincere twinkle in her eyes was certainly worth it. “I was
never bullied, if that’s what you’re thinking. I merely laughed
along with my supposed perpetrators and declared vengeance.”

“Your sister was right then. You weren’t
always so...stiff.”

Ulric laughed and looked at her. “I prefer
‘reserved’, if you please. And when did my sister say this?”

Audelia smiled and reached for a curled
leaflet that had just fallen from the tree. “On several occasions.
She says you used to be joyous and sociable. That things changed
when...” She shook her head and glanced away.

“That things changed when what?”

“When your...your father had passed
away.”

A full minute passed before Ulric said
another word. Closing his eyes, he inhaled slowly and sighed. He’d
tried very hard not to think so much of the past. For his own
sanity, he had kept that part of his life well hidden,
forgotten...undisturbed. The late Lord Viktor St. Rosso had been a
great man who had been lost far too soon.

“I suppose she was correct then.” He’d
almost flinched when he felt her hand on his shoulder, her fingers
tightening in a gentle squeeze. “My father was a good man. A good
husband and an even greater father. The tenants throughout the town
loved him, adored him.” Ulric chuckled lightly and knitted his
fingers beneath his head. “He used to take me out here as a boy,
you know. We’d talk for hours, him telling me the history of our
ancestors, teaching me of the story behind these scattered
ruins.”

“It’s okay to grieve, you know.” Her voice
came softly, consoling and gentle.

Ulric shook
his head and sat up, his forearms resting against his knees.
Audelia did not understand. He knew that it was okay to grieve.
He
knew
that. When his father had died, Ulric had wished
that it hadn’t been true, wished that he had only been dreaming.
But reality had swept in and ripped his heart apart, had torn his
hopes and dreams into shreds. And now the pain that he had once
felt threatened to resurface again.

“
Someone...” Said pain crept up high into his throat,
leaving a bitter taste of loss and bereavement there.
“
Someone
had to be strong for us. Someone had
to keep things going.”

Audelia knew about being strong. She knew
about going on. But even she had broken down at times. Even she had
allowed herself a some well needed cries, even though they were few
and never frequent.

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

His head turned sharply to look at her. He
was struggling to keep his feelings at bay and she knew it. It
could be seen in the hardness of his clenched jaws and the
indignation in his eyes. Ulric felt robbed; robbed of his
adolescence and robbed of a father he had very much respected and
loved.

“I do.” Audelia sighed, closing her eyes
briefly as the light breeze swept across her face. “I grieve for
parents I have never known. I...I try to convince myself that if I
allow myself just a moment of mourning, at least that will put me
at peace somehow.” She smiled sadly and met his gaze. “The pain
never goes away but at least I know how to cope with it.”

Ulric swallowed tightly and looked away,
lest she saw the full agony in his eyes. At least, he had memories
of his parents. Good, happy memories. “My condolences.”

“Like I said, I never knew them.”

“I thought... I thought you’d meant
something else.” He’d thought she was being hesitant, protective
even. He’d thought she had meant to keep his curiosity at bay. Or
perhaps he had been so distracted by her new feelings for her, that
he hadn’t really been thinking truly on it. For that, he could not
blame her at all.

“It doesn’t matter now,” she continued,
moving in closer, her lilac scent intensifying with her approach.
“I’ve realized that it’s best to enjoy the present and to always
look forward. And you still have a sister who loves you.”

Ulric grasped
her hand and raised it to his lips. “You’re a lot wise for
just
a thieving wench.”

Stilling, a deep blush of embarrassment
swept across Audelia’s features before she realized the jesting in
his tone and shook her head with a smile. “I never stole for
sport.”

“Necessity, then?” He hoped.

“I suppose.” She watched attentively as
Ulric’s lips massaged the tip of each finger and the inside of her
wrist. “It was either that...or seek employ from one of the
brothels.”

“And you never will.” Ulric pulled her in,
brushing his thumb across her cheek and smoothing it over her sweet
quivering lips. The thought of Audelia granting favors to other men
at the sole intention of earning a few coins, made Ulric want to
ram his fist through a bloody wall. “Do you hear me?”

Nodding,
Audelia leaned in to accept Ulric’s gentle kiss. He knew just how
to make her
feel
, to put her
heart and mind at ease. In a moment like this, she feared that her
mind was telling her something that she possibly had known for some
time. She was falling in love with Lord St. Rosso and she was
terrified by it.

“Bryce?”

“Mm?” He kissed her again and met her stare.
“You know you can speak freely, love.”

Love
. Audelia’s heart
warmed at the tender endearment. With his hand still cupping her
cheek, she turned her head and kissed his palm softly. “When Lady
Ryia is to return home soon, is...does our agreement still stand?
That you’ll free me?”

Ulric
swallowed, knowing that the question had been lingering on her lips
for some time now. He was beginning to feel
something
for her. He knew not what it was but he cared about her
well-being, and he hadn’t the heart to let her go. At least, not
yet. But the look in her eyes spoke volumes of a girl who had been
trapped all her life, and he had no intention of adding to her
suffering.

“Of course.”

Audelia nodded, lowering her lids as he
pecked her on the forehead. A part of her felt relieved, pleased
that he’d meant to keep his promise. But the other part was
disappointed, saddened that he would mean let her go so easily.

* * *

C
andles lit and
burning brightly, Ulric smiled to himself and took a bite of Cook’s
tenderly prepared pork. Across the table were bowls of steaming
boiled potatoes and rice as well as a tray of freshly baked
fist-sized loaves. And he certainly had not forgotten to request a
plate of jelly-filled biscuits.

“I give up,” Ryia muttered next to him. He’d
seated her right beside him since the table was built to
accommodate twelve and would seem far too formal if she had been
sitting at the far end of it. “Is this an early farewell present?
Are you that glad I am too leave soon?”