Roses & Thorns (7 page)

Drew
placed a booted foot on the bench top and leaned forward to rest elbow on knee,
hand dangling freely. "Very certain."

"It
was extraordinary. He was virtually the only one to think that the Earth moved
about the sun. He suggested that only the moon circled us. He suggested that
there was a whole universe out there—"

"And
that the world just couldn't possibly be flat."

"Can
you imagine believing something that seems so obviously wrong to us now?"
Her eyes widened as she stared off into space. "Such conviction that there
was so finite a space that if one sailed too far, the ship would literally fall
off the edge of the world and into oblivion."

"So
ancient an idea must surely be foolishness," Drew teased gently.

"They
couldn't have known any differently!" Angelique challenged, annoyed at the
whimsical tone of her companion. "What evidence did they have to the
contrary? They hadn't the means to prove their world was anything other than
what they could see! It would be like standing atop this palace and seeing the
valley as a whole, ringed by your tall brick walls and then, beyond, by the
ranges of mountains. Why, the very hills look as if they hold the skies high!
Why would anyone have had reason to question their senses?"

"They
would have no good reason at all."

"Yet
you're laughing at me."

"Not
at all," Drew corrected cheerfully. "I simply find nothing strange in
the idea that a world may be flat — or round. Have you ever wondered if it
wasn't truly flat in the first place?"

Angelique
eyed her companion dubiously. "I don't understand."

"Before
we began to think in terms of science and proofs, do you think the world was
round? Or was it flat once, just as so many believed it to be? Perhaps the
discovery, the very act of proving it round, created the reality of it being
round."

"But
how can something be what it was not before?"

Drew
waved a gloved hand and a pale rosebud on a thornless stem appeared. "How
indeed?"

Angelique
stared at the flower, eyes narrowed in concentration. "You're suggesting
science has become the magick? In its process of discovery, there are elements
of some sort of spell?"

"Is
that true?" Angelique lifted the rose thoughtfully, her gaze drifting
upwards. "Or is it the mystery itself that is magicked away with the
spell? Like the black veil of your face... is the truth hidden by some cloak
until the spell, or the science, can take us beyond our fear? Perhaps the
magick is the light that pierces our blindness and science merely our best method
of challenging society's assumptions?"

Drew
nodded, impressed, acknowledging the logic of her thoughts. Silence fell easily
between them. After a moment, Angelique moved, offering the pale bud to Drew,
who took it slowly. As the rose passed from Angelique's hand to Drew's,
Angelique spoke a few words under her breath, trying a soft spell of her own.
The bud opened slightly, releasing a faint, pleasant fragrance.

Drew
lifted the fragile gift, relishing the sweet scent. "Thank you."

Angelique
smiled hesitantly. Her eyes fell to the open page of the book. She closed it
slowly and looked up at Drew.

"May
I ask you a question?" she said.

Drew
stiffened momentarily, but nodded.

"Are
you not overly warm wearing that hood and gloves all the time?"

Drew
relaxed and answered, "It's simple, really. I only have to say 'I wish to
be comfortable,' 'I wish to be cooler' or something of the like, and the palace
accommodates me."

"But
outside?"

"Then
I have the brisk spring winds." Angelique continued to stare at Drew as if
she expected more on an answer, but when none was forthcoming, the conversation
lagged. "Do you ride?" Drew asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Do
I like to ride or am I a good rider?"

"Both."

"Yes,
I like to. No, I don't ride well."

"A
lack of practice?"

She
nodded.

"Would
you like to ride with me? We've a wonderful garden trail, shaded by trellises
of a thousand different flowers. The breezes are always cool. There are a dozen
fountains that will sing for you."

"It
sounds beautiful," Angelique sighed, then caught herself abruptly.
"There is a problem."

Drew
sat, straddling the bench. "Tell me."

Angelique
colored. "I cannot ride like a proper lady, my Liege."

There
was a puzzled silence, then her companion admitted, "I do not understand.
How does a proper lady ride?"

"Side-saddle,
my Liege." And then she found herself hurrying to explain. "I learned
as a child, you see. My eldest brother, Ivan, would put me up on our old plow
horse and lead me around the courtyard for a special treat. It didn't seem to matter
if my skirts bunched at that age. When I was older and I rode the old mare in
from the fields after plowing, I was too tired to care about whether or not my
petticoats were showing."

"And
where was this eldest brother when you were doing the plowing?" The
displeasure in Drew's voice was audible. "I did not know that tending the
fields had become a daughter's duty." Drew's hand curled into a fist.

"Please
do not judge them so harshly, my Liege. I did what I did as much for myself as
for them."

"For
your father?"

Her
head bent and she whispered, "It was for Mama. To pay for what she
needed."

"Did
you come here for her sake as well?"

Angelique
glanced up, the anger in Drew's voice had turned to gentleness. "In
part," she answered honestly.

"And
the other part?"

She
straightened, folding her hands on the book. She forced a smile and stared
straight ahead. "I couldn't quite bear what would become of my life if I
didn't."

Drew
reached out and covered both of Angelique's hands with one gloved one.
Angelique, aware of the warmth in that touch, felt her breath catch when she
thought again that this was the person she would marry. Her skin tingled and
she felt her mouth go dry, as she wondered for the first time what that warmed
leather glove would feel like cupped against her cheek and then, more boldly,
what that hand would feel like against her skin.

"Would
you
like
to come riding?" Drew pressed, withdrawing that hand
slowly.

Forcing
her mind to focus on the question, Angelique managed a nod.

"Then
we go riding!" her companion announced, rising suddenly and pulling
Angelique up as well.

"Like
this?!" Angelique protested. She allowed herself to be dragged only so far
toward the door. "But I can't!"

"Why
not?"

"In
these skirts? It's not practical!"

"Then
we'll dress you differently." Drew waved a hand. A loose fitting tunic,
its drawstring collar neatly tied, and a suede pair of breeches tucked into
short boots replaced the troublesome clothes.

Angelique
flushed, deeply embarrassed.

"You
are not comfortable," Drew said. "I have offended you."

"Do
you..." Angelique managed a small smile. "Would you prefer me as a
young boy, my Liege?"

Drew
cocked her head, acknowledging the gentle jibe. "I do not prefer men to
women, if that's what you mean," Drew offered. "I was merely
providing clothing more suited to riding. If you would rather—" Drew
raised a hand as if to change Angelique's attire again.

"Drew,
wait. I didn't mean to imply..." she faltered, then, after a moment added,
"It's just that — I've never worn clothes such as these before."

"Angelique."

She
glanced down at herself and then up at Drew. "Do you not find this
terribly immodest?"

Drew
shook her head in response. "You need not answer to the rules of the
outside society here. It is your choice what you wear.”

Angelique
grinned crookedly. "Then if I can have anything, I think I'd like my old
clothes. The ones I wore at home."

"Describe
them."

"The
blouse had short sleeves." She gestured to the middle of her upper arm.
"Usually, I'd wear a laced vest instead of a corset. A simple skirt and
petticoats." Angelique blushed at the thought of bare ankles anywhere
outside of the muddy pastures or Aloysius' house. "They came below the
knees a little."

"Done!"
Drew's hands clapped together and Angelique gasped at the transformation. The
silk blouse Drew had made was a summer-sky blue; her vest was of black felt,
appliquéd with red and pink rosebuds; the petticoats were the softest cotton,
covered by a dusky gray-blue skirt of fine light wool.

"Better?"

Angelique
nodded, laughing breathlessly. "It's beautiful!"

"We
will need to do something about those boots."

Angelique
grimaced, realizing she was still wearing the short boots the breeches had been
tucked into. "To tell the truth, I wish I didn't have to wear
anything."

Angelique
gasped as she realized what she'd just said. But Drew's hand was already in the
air and, in the same moment that Angelique felt the warm breezes against her
bare skin, Drew's red cape suddenly tied about her throat and slid down to
cover her to her toes. She clutched frantically at its edges, realizing that
she wasn't wearing a thing underneath.

"You
meant not to wear anything
on your feet,
I think?"

Angelique
nodded, still unable to speak. Drew obliged with a spell. Angelique felt the
beautiful riding clothes — sans boots — once again appear. Her thoughts raced
in desperate, unspoken questions.

"I
saw nothing, Angelique."

She
drew a breath and calmed her racing heart. "Thank you."

Drew
sketched a bow.

Slowly,
Angelique untied the cape and drew it off. She folded it over her arm
carefully. The satin lining was smooth, the crimson velvet soft beneath her
fingers. "May I keep it, my Liege?"

A
pause and then, "Of course."

Angelique
stared at Drew, prompting the other to ask, "My Lady?"

"My
mother would say you have more than a tender soul, my Liege," she said
quietly. "She would say you have honor."

The
hairbrush paused as Angelique gazed into her mirror, eyeing the crimson cloak
that now lay draped across the foot of her bed. How could Drew, who had been so
protective of her, so abruptly seem to forget her existence? How could the one
who had laughed with her over dinner, taught her backgammon and told such
magickal stories have become so distant?

There
was no one but herself to blame, she scolded. The touch of Drew's black-gloved
hand had unsettled her, just as it had the first time she's allowed herself to
think of what that touch might lead to. Only this last time Drew's touch, meant
to be gentle and playful, nothing more than correcting the improper placement
of a backgammon marker, had made her heart leap and her stomach flutter. Her
own sudden feelings had frightened her. And so, startled by her own emotions,
she had pulled away, wide-eyed.

For
a long moment, the ticking of the corner clock had engulfed them, the only
sound in a room which had moments before been filled with their laughter.
Before Angelique could explain why she'd pulled away, Drew rose, slowly, almost
wearily. "Forgive me." Drew's voice had been clipped. "I did not
realize my touch was so offensive to you."

Startled,
Angelique had been unable to recover her equilibrium before the Liege strode
stiffly from the room.

A
wall of tension had come down between them, a wall that had been kept
mercifully at bay for a few days at least. Angelique could not yet fully
identify the emotion that engulfed Drew during these moments — anger, perhaps,
or sadness. Angelique had come to know only that any reaction from her that
bordered on surprise — especially at Drew's touch — might as well turn Drew to
stone.

The
morning after, Culdun said Drew would be out attending to some local business
for a day or two. By way of apology for the absence, Drew sent a bouquet of
small pink and dusky blue flowers. "My Liege said you were most taken with
the summer house where these were in bloom. If you like, you could take the
mare out this afternoon. I'm sure my nieces would be happy to accompany
you," said Culdun. But Angelique had refused. Somehow, without Drew, the
prospect of riding didn't have the same appeal. Instead she haunted the library
and the gardens close by the house, counting the hours until Drew would return.

But
a "day or two" had stretched into eight. Then, even after Drew
returned, her host had remained unavailable, even at dinner. Angelique, tormented
by the belief that she had caused Drew such deep distress, fell into despair.

She
bemoaned her clumsiness. How could she have been so ungrateful in the face of
such gentleness and kindness? How could she have hurt the only person who had
ever made her feel smart and beautiful and... wanted? Yes. Wanted.