Free Rose Red by Flora Speer Page A

threaten me while I wore it.”
    “But,” Bianca persisted, “why were you
roaming in the mountains in the first place?”
    “Bianca, if you ply Andrea with so many
questions, you will tire him and impede his recovery,” Rosalinda
protested. She could tell that Andrea did not want to answer
Bianca’s last question. He was letting her wait for his response,
in the same way in which he had let their mother wait.
    “In truth, though I do not like to admit it,
I find I am tired,” Andrea said at last. “Perhaps, if I were to
rest for an hour or two, I might restore my energies enough to
allow me to join you for the evening meal as your mother so kindly
suggested.”
    “Will you play the lute for us?” Bianca
asked.
    “If not this evening, then I promise I will
do so soon,” Andrea said.
    “We will leave you to rest.” Rosalinda was on
her feet with a hand under her sister’s elbow, raising Bianca out
of her chair. Bianca was not ready to go. Rosalinda had to exert a
certain amount of pressure to make her stand up, and then had to
keep her hand on Bianca’s arm to draw her toward the door and push
her through it.
    As she went out of the room Rosalinda glanced
back and caught Andrea’s eye. He smiled at her, a warm, enticing
smile that took her breath away and made her believe that he would
like her to stay with him because he knew that, unlike Bianca, she
would not ask questions he did not want to answer.

Chapter 4
     
     
    “Why did you do that?” Bianca demanded,
pulling her arm out of Rosalinda’s grasp. “I might have extracted
some information from Andrea if only you were not so protective of
his health.”
    “With you and Mother both interrogating him
at every opportunity, someone has to protect him or he will have a
relapse,” Rosalinda snapped back at her. “Did Mother tell you to
question him, because she has promised not to do it?”
    “Of course not.” Bianca rubbed at her elbow.
“I thought I could be of help to her, that’s all. I know she wants
to learn more about him.”
    “When Andrea is ready, he will tell us all we
need to know about his life,” Rosalinda said, hoping it was true.
Relenting, she went on, “Did I hurt your arm? I didn’t mean to, but
you would not stop talking and, my dearest, you did ask too many
questions. It seemed to me the only way to silence you was to get
you out of the room.”
    “My arm is fine,” Bianca admitted.
“Rosalinda, don’t be angry with me. I was only trying to help
Mother.”
    “I know. Sometimes I talk too much, too. I am
going to join Valeria in the kitchen. Would you like to come with
me?”
    “I think I will return to the sitting room
and complete that Latin translation I was working on. Mother will
be pleased if I get it just right.”
    “I’m sure she will be. But I hope you know
that Mother will love you, no matter what you do.”
    “If I am very good,” Bianca said, “then she
will have one less cause for worry. We should both try to be as
good as we can.”
    “I do try,” said Rosalinda with a rueful
twist to her mouth. “For all my good intentions, I still annoy
Mother far too often.”
    “Then come to the sitting room with me now,
and I will help you with your Latin,” Bianca suggested. “I know it
would please Mother.”
    “Perhaps there is something I can do to help
Valeria instead. That will also please Mother when she hears of
it.”
    “And at the same time you will avoid the
Latin lesson until later,” Bianca teased.
    “ I would
avoid it altogether if I could.” Leaving her sister, Rosalinda
headed for the kitchen, where Valeria supervised several of the
wives and daughters of the men-at-arms, who did the cooking and the
other kitchen chores. Rosalinda was not especially interested in
cooking, though she did willingly help Valeria when it was her turn
to do so, and she agreed with her mother that every lady ought to
know what went on in the kitchen of her home. Rosalinda’s consuming
interest of the moment