Summers at Castle Auburn (20 page)

“Perhaps
I
am different!” I cried, wrenching myself to my feet and beginning to pace. “Perhaps I didn't realize—and maybe I should have realized!—and now I do, and it's horrible. There's so much wretchedness and misery—and
he has caused it
! He has been cruel! And I cannot believe I did not see it before, and I cannot believe I could have loved him.”

She turned to watch me as I paced, making no effort to stop me. “I despise his trading in the aliora,” she said, still in that serene voice. “It makes me heartsick as well. Yet it is a profession that the world views as honorable. He has received praise and glory and monetary advantage for pursuing this career. What is to tell him that it is an evil thing to do?”

“His heart!”

She nodded. “You have hunted with a trained hawk on your wrist. Wasn't that once a wild creature? Didn't some hunter steal it from its native habitat, tear it from its mate and offspring, force it into a foreign way of life? And yet no one worries over the hawks in their cages or thinks they have been mistreated. How is it any different to capture an aliora?”

I had stopped in my striding; now, through puffy red eyes, I stared at her. “It is different,” I whispered.

She nodded again. “It
is
different,” she said. “But some men do not think so. How are they to learn that? Unless someone tells them. Unless they discover it for themselves.”

“He will never discover it on his own!” I cried.

She appeared to consider. “I think he will,” she said. “I think he already has. And he stole this child because—because he was afraid he did not have the heart to do it. He seems very proud of himself, but there is something in him. . . . I think that visit to Alora took more from him than even he has realized.”

I shook my head violently. “How can you understand him? How can you forgive him? Such a cruel man, who has done such terrible things—”

Now her face changed, though the expression was hard to read. It went from her habitual tranquillity to a look that was even more remote. “I have known men much worse than Jaxon,” she said quietly. “I will never call him cruel.”

D
uring the next two days, I recovered some of my equilibrium, though I still avoided Jaxon. I was beginning to regret my easy bargain with Cloate, which had resulted in my downing half a draught of that benighted potion. It had not opened my eyes to the charms of a lover, oh no; it had opened my eyes to the true natures of everyone else around me. I was wishing with some intensity to still have my eyes tight shut.

It was not only Jaxon I could not bear to see these two days, but also Hennessey of Mellidon, Angela, and even Bryan. To me everyone seemed either shallow or tainted, and I wished with all my heart to be back at my grandmother's cottage. There at least I understood the rivalries and the desires. Here, nothing was simple and everything was suspect.

So, again, I slept late and avoided the communal breakfasts, slipping out of the castle sometime around noon. Both of these days I went on long, solitary rides, which I broke with vigorous walks while my poor horse rested. The day of the ball I rode so far, and walked so long, that the afternoon sun was seriously thinking about setting before I was on my way back to the castle. I had much to do before the dinner that night—bathe, wash my hair, dress my
hair, step into the gorgeous folds of the red silk dress that had been designed for me. . . . I urged my horse forward faster.

I had traveled about half an hour on my homeward route when a rider came in sight in the distance. It was not long before I could make out his black-and-gold livery, the colors of Auburn. Soon enough he resolved himself into Roderick.

Who appeared to be looking for me.

He sent his horse in a wide circle and drew up beside me as I continued toward the castle. I was disproportionately glad to see him. “Roderick!” I exclaimed as he jogged up. “Are you out hunting for game?”

He sat on his mount with his usual air of relaxed negligence. He looked fairer, taller, and thicker in the bones. A man. He had still been almost a boy when I first met him three years earlier. “Hunting for you,” he said. “Your sister was worried.”

“But I'm fine. I always go out riding by myself.”

He glanced at the sky, gauging time by the angle of the sun. “I guess she thought you'd be back by now. A lot of activity going on at the castle tonight.”

I nodded gloomily. “The ball.”

He glanced my way with a small grin. “You don't sound too excited about it.”

I sighed, laughed, and ran a hand through my unbound hair. It was a knotted mess. It would take forever to brush and clean and curl. “I don't think I'm cut out for court life,” I said. “I am not enjoying this season, that's for sure.”

He seemed to listen with more attention than he usually gave me. “So, you think you'd be happy back in your grandmother's village, never seeing the fancy nobles of Castle Auburn again?”

“If not for Elisandra,” I said.

“If not for Elisandra,” he repeated.

“Yes. Oh, yes. I'm not fancy myself. The more I'm here—this year, anyway—the less I want to stay.”

He gave that small, quick smile that lightened his wide features and was gone. “I have to say that life at Castle Auburn is not exactly what I thought it would be, either.”

I looked at him curiously. “But you were mad to come. Didn't you say so once? You couldn't wait to leave your father's farm and journey to the prince's court.”

He nodded. “Yes. The honor and excitement of being a king's guardsman. There was nothing that could have held me back from tasting that life.”

“And now?”

“Now?” He seemed to consider the landscape before him, as if its green contours were engraved with the answers he wanted. “Like you, I have a compelling reason to stay. But it is not the reason I expected when I came here. And if it did not exist—yes, I think I could go back to my father's farm and be happy. I know I could. I could buy my own land, raise my own cattle, be a simple man again.” He glanced at me, a trace of humor in his hazel eyes. “I'm not a fancy man, either, as it turns out.”

I had fastened my attention on his earlier remark—that he had a compelling reason to stay put. “I've seen you with her,” I said before I could think. “I was surprised at first but—but she's a good enough girl, I suppose.”

Now the look he turned on me was both narrowed and watchful. “Who have you seen me with?” he said.

I gestured ineffectively. “Daria. My sister's maid. She came to the weapons yard to watch you practice.”

His eyes didn't waver from my face. No more looking to the landscape for answers. “Daria is not the reason I am staying.”

Now I was astonished. I had been convinced. “But you said there was a woman—”

He shook his head. “That's not what I said. I said there was a reason. I did not say who or what the reason was.”

“But I—” Now I was embarrassed. And if he was not in love with Daria . . . but he still had no reason to favor me. I felt awkward and stupid. “I'm sorry, then, I guess I assumed—”

Now he was grinning again. He shifted in the saddle to face forward once more. “Although she
is
a good girl, as you say, and a pretty thing. But my heart is not free.”

“I have no interest in your heart,” I said crossly.

He laughed aloud and gave me a sideways glance. “No, and I have no interest in yours,” he said. “Shall we be friends, then?”

“It's not much of a friendship when one of you never makes any effort to see the other of you and then only teases you or scolds you when he does see you,” I said very rapidly and childishly.

Roderick was even more amused. “I don't tease you. And I've only ever scolded you when you were foolish. But you might notice that it's not my place to do either of those things—Lady Coriel.”

“Well, you do avoid me,” I said. “This is the first time you've talked to me this summer.”

His voice gentled. “How can I seek you out, living in the Halsing suites as you do? Every time I have seen you from a distance, you have been talking to some lord or off on some errand. Guardsmen are not at liberty to claim the attention of a lady such as yourself.”

“Well, then—well, then,” I said, both elated and a little nervous. “What do your duties allow? Can you ride with me?”

“My mornings are bespoken and most of my evenings. There are two afternoons a week I am free.”

“Then—perhaps on those afternoons—at least once a week—”

“I would like that,” he said.

I frowned a little. “Although—I suppose someone might notice if I went off riding with you that frequently. You would never believe how these people gossip. I should bring someone along with me, from time to time, so it does not look so particular.”

He gave that lazy smile. “Your sister's maid.”

I laughed. “Or my sister! She needs to escape from the scheming at the castle now and then. I don't think she is very happy this summer, either.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” he said politely.

We had by this time made it to the castle gates. I waved at the guards, for I knew them through Shorro, and they waved back at me instead of giving me the traditional salute. Roderick gave me another sideways glance.

“Although I do not think you should worry so much about how
odd it might seem to have a friendship with me,” he said in a dry voice. “Since you seem to make friendships everywhere.”

I laughed again. I was feeling remarkably cheerful. For perhaps the first time this summer. “I did them some favors,” I said carelessly. “So now we're friends.”

“Gave them salve for their wounds, as you did for me?”

“And salve for their hearts. And other remedies.”

“You must be popular indeed,” he said.

I would have ridden straight through to the stables, but Roderick edged me across the cobblestones toward the castle doors. “It's late, and your sister's worried,” he said. “I'll take your mount back to the stables.”

Indeed, it was even later than I had realized, so I was happy to fall in with this plan. We pulled up before the grand stairway leading to the castle, and I hopped from the saddle before Roderick could think of dismounting to help me. He leaned down to take my reins.

“Three days from this one, I am free,” he said in a low voice.

“I'll come to the stables,” I said. I could not help giving him a wide smile, and his own quick, easy one came in return. I whirled around and fled up the castle stairs—

To find Kent awaiting me at the very top.

“And exactly where have you been all day?” was his greeting. He took me by the wrist and pulled me through the doors, none too gently. The two guards touched their fists to their foreheads for Kent's benefit, but grinned at me when he could not see. “Your sister is sitting at the window watching for your return, and Greta is shrieking at all the servants that they must keep better track of you. I sent Roderick out searching for you, and I'm glad to see he found you, but I can't believe you would be so inconsiderate as to be gone all afternoon, this day of all days—”

I twisted my hand free but hurried beside him through the corridors. “I don't know why everyone's so worried. I always go off by myself, and I'm always back in time for whatever I've promised to do.”

“It's just that you're so careless!” he exclaimed. “And it's not like you haven't gotten hurt before on one of your rides—”

“Three years ago,” I reminded him. I was breathless. “Could we slow down a little?”

“And where do you go off to all the time, anyway? No one can ever find you when they're looking for you.”

“Who's looking for me?”

“Well—your sister, of course, and then Bryan asked where you were, and that stupid Mellidon lordling—”

“Hennessey? What did he want?”

“A little of your time, apparently! As did everyone!”

I found this brand of annoyance completely out of character and irritating in the extreme. Kent was always the one who had found my exploits amusing when I was a child. Now he seemed to think I should suddenly alter my ways to suit his notion—the court's notion—of how a lady should behave. I came to a dead halt in the middle of the corridor. Kent strode on for a few more paces, still ranting, before he realized I was no longer beside him. He spun around and stalked back.

“What do—” he began.

I interrupted. “Thank you for your escort from the front doors, but I know my way to my own chamber,” I said sweetly. “I shall find my way from here, Lord Kentley.”

He had opened his mouth as if to interrupt me in turn, but now he shut it abruptly. Suddenly he looked embarrassed. He struggled with the remnants of his anger and a wish to apologize; I could read the conflict in his face. “I suppose I've reacted a bit strongly,” he said in a more subdued voice. “I'm sorry, Corie. It's just that you were gone so long, and Elisandra was so worried—and no one ever knows where you are these days—”

I held up my hand for peace. “I'm here, I'm safe, don't worry about me,” I said. “But I have to go get ready or I really will be late for dinner.”

“And the ball,” he added. He looked as if he wanted to take my hand, to extend the apology, but decided against it. “You will save
me a dance, won't you? You won't give them all to Hennessey and Bryan?”

“I'd like to give
all
of Hennessey's dances to you,” I said truthfully. “I'll promise to dance with you as often as you like, if you'll make me a promise in return. Every time you see me with Hennessey of Mellidon, you must abandon whichever girl you're flirting with at the moment, and come rescue me.”

He was smiling. “I don't flirt.”

I gathered my skirts in both hands. “That wasn't the answer I was looking for.”

He pivoted to watch me move away. “I promise. You shouldn't flirt, either.”

I laughed aloud, lifted my hems higher, and ran down the hallway. Up the stairs, down the next hall, I arrived breathlessly at Elisandra's door. After a perfunctory knock, I turned the handle and stepped in.

“I'm sorry you were so—” I began, then choked off my words, because the chamber was completely dark. The curtains were drawn, no candles were lit, and no one appeared to be in the room.

Until a shape stirred on the bed, and Elisandra's voice came lightly across the room. “Corie? What's wrong?”

I hurried to her side, filled with remorse. “I'm sorry! Were you sleeping? I didn't mean to wake you.”

She held up a hand, which I could barely see, to draw me down beside her. I sat on the edge of the bed. “What time is it?”

“Just about sunset. I'm so sorry to wake you.”

She smothered a yawn and pushed herself to a sitting position. “I wasn't sleeping, I was just resting. Have you had a nice day?”

I nodded in the dark. “Yes. But I'm sorry I was gone so long. I didn't mean to worry you.”