Free Roses & Thorns by Chris Anne Wolfe Page B

Her eyes were round,
unseeing, haunted. She made no response when he spoke to her, but merely stared
through the glass and into the storm.

Chapter
8
    "Culdun?"
    "Yes,
my Lady?" The little braid flopped across his cheek as he glanced up
sideways. He was busy turning the mulch and soil beneath a rose bush. He smiled
as Angelique folded her loose skirts and knelt beside him to help, approving of
her practical way of dressing and matter-of-fact pursuit of such pleasures as
gardening.
    "The
day we met, you invited me to ask questions."
    "I
remember, my Lady."
    "May
I ask a few more?"
    Something
in her tone warned these would not be simple questions. With a stiff grunt he
got to his feet, and they moved the mulch bucket to the next bush. "Some
of your questions I may not be able to answer, my Lady. There are oaths I have
taken. But ask and we shall see."
    "What
does Drew hide behind the—"
    "Ah!"
Culdun sat back on his heels, shaking his head with a sad chuckle. "What
shape? What form? What monstrous abominations do cloak and glove hide?"
    Quietly,
evenly, Angelique countered, "I need to know, Culdun."
    "You
have heard the story. Is that not enough?" His answer was evasive and they
both knew it. She had heard but a fragment of a story, nothing more.
    Angelique
looked at him steadily. "If it must be, yes." She sighed and stabbed
the trowel into the dirt. Leaning into the work, she continued, "It seems
I am a fool, Culdun. Every time my Liege presents another bitter piece of
history, I fall to pieces. When we are simply together, I am quite comfortable.
But when confronted with that rage —" Angelique broke off with a baffled
shake of her head.
    "It
is often easy to deny one's fears until confronted, my Lady. Your presence here
has caused my Liege to again confront the pain of familial betrayal and the
hope that your presence has engendered. It is not surprising that you would
feel the power of that anger and that hope. And be frightened by it." His
voice was quiet.
    "It
is cowardice," she retorted heatedly. "I should have been stronger.
But Drew's tale was so full of bitterness and hatred, I was overwhelmed. I
didn't realize until later just how much I'd succumbed to Drew's own horrors. I
felt as if the fearful darkness of all that hatred was rising up to swallow me
whole."
    "And
now, my Lady?"
    "Now?"
Her lips twisted. "Now I am angry."
    Culdun's
face showed his surprise.
    "Not
at Drew," she added quickly. "Never at Drew." After a moment she
continued, "How old was this stepsister, Culdun?"
    "Nineteen,
my Lady."
    "And
who became the Count's heir?"
    "The
son born to the stepsister, my Lady."
    "Tell
me," Angelique growled, "has no one ever thought nineteen is a bit
old for even unmarried girls to be quite so innocent?"
    "Meaning?"
    "I
question the witch-woman's ambitions. Have a spouse plant enough suspicions and
even the most loving parent can fail in the moment of crisis. I can imagine the
bespelled words of a witch might only make the situation worse."
    "I
have often wondered if my Liege was not the more innocent of the lot."
    "It
seems plain that the Count's second wife wanted to ensure that her offspring
would find favor over Drew. If that were the end, she might have used any means
at her disposal to guarantee it."
    "That
would be a logical conclusion to draw, given the circumstances," Culdun
agreed.
    "And
yet Drew not only doesn't see that possibility, but insists on shouldering all
the blame as well!"
    "It
has always been so, as long as I have known my Liege."
    Both
fell into silent contemplation as they moved on to the next shrub. Then
Angelique pressed, "Has there ever been an attempt to break the curse,
Culdun?"
    "There
has, my Lady."
    "Tell
me."
    "There
have been several young women. All have come here of their own free will,
though none seemed too interested in my Liege or living here. They all departed
after a time. Most commonly, a young man would be found wandering near the
gates and brought in as Aloysius was, to