Roses & Thorns (8 page)

She
missed Drew's unsettling humor, even though it sometimes annoyed her,
especially when Drew seemed to be laughing at her and not with her. But she
only had to look below the surface of their interaction to see that was not so.
Drew could never be so cruel. It was one of the qualities she had come to
appreciate. She missed Drew's quiet concern. And even though the thought of
Drew's touch had startled her, Angelique couldn't bear to think that Drew would
ever believe that Angelique was afraid of affectionate touch!

Angelique
set the hairbrush aside resolutely. Enough was enough. If Drew was truly her
betrothed, then she had the right to seek her Liege's company, did she not? Of
course she did. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she promised herself
that, come morning, Drew's unavailability would change!

Angelique
paced in the library, awaiting Culdun's return. After what seemed like an hour
had passed, Culdun appeared in the doorway. He looked away for a moment and
then his eyes sought her face. She knew even before he spoke what the answer
would be. "My Liege regretfully declines the invitation to ride."
Culdun's voice was quiet.

Angelique
sank down into one of the overstuffed chairs and let her head fall into her
hands. "Oh, Culdun, I've made a terrible mess of things. What shall I
do?" she fretted anxiously. "How can I say I'm sorry if my Liege
won't even let me say good morning?"

Culdun
smiled in quiet sympathy. "I think, my Lady, there is need for fewer
self-recriminations on both sides."

"But
I am the one who failed, Culdun. My Liege trusted me to be different and I have
failed."

"Have
you thought," Culdun offered quietly, "that such a difference may be
frightening in and of itself when finally found?"

Angelique
considered this. "That had not occurred to me." Angelique paused a
moment. "Do you think Drew is really too busy to come riding or is it this
other matter which keeps us apart?"

"I
do not know, my Lady. There were a fair number of parchments scattered about
the study when I left."

"The
study?" Angelique paused. Then she offered a small smile. "My Liege
did say I was welcome to venture wherever I would in the palace."

A
hint of a grin appeared on Culdun's face. "My Liege has indeed said you
may go anywhere you'd like."

"Strange,"
she breathed, "I am overcome with a desire to see the study again. I think
there is something in that room which will answer a question that has been
puzzling me for days."

Culdun
grinned openly now. Angelique moved past him and into the hallway, then turned
toward the staircase and voiced her desired destination.

Her
resolve wavered a little when confronted with the closed doors to the study.
For a moment, Angelique hesitated, fingers toying with the laces on her green
vest. Then abruptly she knocked and entered without waiting for an answer.

Drew,
cowled as always, glanced up from the desk. A wind rushed eagerly from the open
windows, encouraged by the cross-draft created by the open door, and tugged at
the edges of the red cloak and the corners of the parchment scrolls.

Steadying
her nerves, Angelique closed the doors behind her and the draft died. She
slowly walked the silent length of the room and halted a few feet from the
desk.

There
was a brooding challenge in Drew's form and something else, something darker
and more menacing. "Why are you here, Angelique. I said I could not go
riding."

"You
said I was welcome to go anywhere in the palace I wished to go."

A
pause. Then, "Why are you here?"

"It
has been eight days, my Liege," Angelique began, her voice trembling a
little despite her resolve. "I thought an apology was overdue—"

"An
apology?" Drew interrupted harshly. Pushing back from the writing table,
Drew all but sprang from the chair. The tall figure paced before the open
windows in taut, clipped strides. "What have I to apologize for? Is the
food not to your liking? The bed too soft or too hard? Has Culdun not seen to
your every wish? What —"

"My
apology," Angelique broke in, then faltered as Drew halted mid-step. She
amended more quietly, "I wanted to apologize for my reaction the other
night. I meant you no disrespect, nor did I mean to hurt you. I was frightened
by what I felt when — when you touched me. Not by the touch itself. I never
meant to insult your kindness, my Liege." She paused and then added,
"I'm sorry."

"You
have nothing to apologize for," came the terse retort, and the dark figure
strode back to the desk.

"But-"

"Trust
your instincts, Angelique. And be afraid. Now," Drew lifted the quill
again, "you must excuse me. I have work to do."

Speechless,
Angelique stood as if rooted to the floor. The curtness, the cold dismissal,
was so unexpected. This must be some stranger, she reasoned, come to take
Drew's place. This was not the person she knew.

"Go!"

She
jumped, and moved to obey, fighting tears of anger and embarrassment. At the
door she paused and looked back. Drew had not returned to work but was sitting,
quill poised, as if listening for the door to swing shut behind Angelique.
Suddenly inspired, Angelique murmured a word. Drew's quill disappeared and in
its place appeared a pale pink rose, stripped of its thorns.

"What—"

Over
her shoulder Angelique replied, "You said to trust my instincts, my
Liege."

And
then she was gone.

The
fountain sparkled with silver droplets and tiny rainbows as the waters played
and danced over the sculpted stones. Arching streams from winged seahorses and
mounted nymphs tossed cool sprays of mist into the air. Drew sat at the
fountain's edge, staring morosely into the rippled reflection which stared
back. Uncharacteristically, Drew had pushed the cloak's hood back, but even the
warm, honeyed sunshine could not dispel the despair within, The pink rose,
Angelique's instinctual gift, lay on the fountain's edge. Drew's dark eyes
caressed it again. The brilliant clearness of the sky, such a soft and even
expanse of blue, the calls of half a dozen different birds, and even the warm,
gentle breeze that lifted Drew's black curls went completely unnoticed.

Culdun
appeared soundlessly, as always. "You wanted me, my Liege?"

"Yes."
Drew's words came slowly, reluctantly. "When Angelique returns, please
tell her... tell her I will be at dinner tonight." Drew looked up into the
man's face, a thousand questions in the dark, haunted eyes.

But
if Culdun had any answers, he did not offer them. "Yes, my Liege,"
was all he said. He bowed and was gone.

It
was a quiet meal, each striving not to offend, not to assume, and yet Angelique
was aware of the way her heart raced whenever Drew’s soft voice emerged from
the hooded darkness. She was aware of the pleasure she felt when her companion
noticed the fit of her dress, the new style of her hair. And she became more
determined not to disappoint.

After
dinner, Culdun followed them into the parlor with a tray of brandy, but
Angelique declined and wandered to the hearth. The fire was blazing and its
warmth was welcoming in the night's unseasonable coolness. The silver rose
still lay on the mantel and gingerly Angelique ran a finger along its stem.

"Take
heed of the thorns, my Lady."

Angelique
nodded, remembering their sting.

"We
have not talked of much tonight, my Lady."

Angelique
turned. "We do not always have to talk to enjoy each other's company, my
Liege."

For
a moment, Drew was intensely still, then suddenly in motion, moving with
seeming casualness around the room. Angelique sensed that something was waiting
to be said, but she would not hurry it.

"Why
did you come here, my Lady?" Drew asked at last in a voice both hesitant
and curious.

"I
came in response to your proposal, my Liege. As I have said, I could not bear
the thought of being scullery maid to my brothers' households should I fail to
marry before they would claim me as their own."

"And
if you had to make the choice again, knowing such magicks would surround you,
would your decision be the same?"

"It
would, my Liege."

Drew
had come to stand at the mantel and reached out to touch the silver rose.
Angelique held her breath at their sudden closeness. Taking the rose up in a
gloved hand, Drew turned away, the hem of the cloak brushing against
Angelique’s bare hand. The woman shivered.

"Do
you remember the terms of the proposal?"

"In
exchange for my hand, you negotiated a business contract with my father."

"And?"

Angelique
half-turned, but stopped herself. Instinct told her this was terribly difficult
for Drew and if she turned to face her host, the others words would dry up as
quickly as a desert stream. She dropped her gaze to the carpet and, with forced
casualness, turned back to her contemplation of the fire. To the hearthstones
she said, "I had to agree to come here freely."

"Yet
you could not have known what you were agreeing to."

"I
knew what would happen to me if I stayed and, quite honestly, my Liege, I think
— magick or no, not-quite-human or mortal to a fault — I have the better end of
the bargain. My... Aloysius sees to his own self-interests, and if yours happen
to coincide, then all is peaceful. But if not..." she trailed off. After a
moment, she spoke again, "That Aloysius neglected to clarify certain
aspects of the bargain was not surprising."

"You
mean the magick?"

"That.
And more. Aspects like yourself."

Despite
the crackle and pop of the fire, Drew's sigh was loud in the room. There was
the faint scent of rose petals, as if stirred by memory, and the silver rose
reappeared on the mantel.

"You
are to be Mistress of this house, Angelique. Regardless of marriage. I could
never release you back to the care of one —" The words were bitten off
sharply. "I am sorry. I know he is your father. But I could not in good
conscience return you there."

"He
is not my father," Angelique said abruptly, before she could stop herself,
anger coloring her voice. She drew a sharp breath, suddenly mindful of what she
had revealed.

"Not—?"

"He
speaks for me as father," she amended, head bent. "But I am not his
child. My mother had a lover. I don't blame her. I might have done the same if
I'd found myself married to a man such as he. I've never met my real
father," she finished quietly.

"And
Aloysius knows this?"

She
nodded.

"It
does not excuse his behavior!"

"No,
but I expect it made it easier for him to —" She broke off before more
could be said. She had expected a different reaction than the concern Drew had
shown her, and something inside her stirred at the feeling of protection Drew’s
words engendered. She finally finished with, "Parents are not always
reasonable."

Drew’s
bitter laugh shattered her serenity, and she turned to face Drew for the first
time since they had come into the parlor. "My Liege?"

"The
time has come, my dear Angelique," Drew began, in a voice rich with
sarcasm and something else Angelique could not quite identify, "to tell
you of the true family Aloysius has sold you into!"

"Drew
—"

"Contrary
to Aloysius, my father was
always
reasonable. Ah, yes, a kind man. A
generous one. He pampered me. Saw to my education. He doted upon me. For you
see, I was his only child and he the only parent. He had his broad estate, his
treasures — his power! He went unquestioned in his little domain. And so I grew
to adulthood never knowing —" Drew broke off abruptly.

The
air in the parlor seemed suddenly thick and close. Angelique stared at Drew,
whose body was so full of angry tension that it seemed to set Drew's cloak to
writhing like a living thing. Drew's breath rasped harshly behind the darkened
hood. The clock ticked off the minutes.

Finally,
Drew spoke again. "I never knew exactly what I was. But how could I? My
passions
were never challenged. I was his heir. It was that simple. No one would
have ever dared to speak against —" There was another pause in which Drew
seemed to fight for control. When Drew spoke again, the voice was softer, but
far from calm. "Doubtless Culdun has told you of my stepmother and of her
infamous skills as a witch?"

Angelique
shook her head, "He said only that she came into your life when you were
older."

"Older,
yes, but still very naive. Naive enough to fall in love, foolish enough to
believe that love was meant for everyone. Including me. I was ignorant enough
to the ways of the outside world. How was I to know that the love I bore for my
stepsister was seen as sin?"

"Moral
sin, my Liege? But how can that be if you were not related by blood?"
Angelique asked, truly puzzled.