Aurelia Page 12

  "When I was little, daria's father told me Jimmy used to race horses on the meadow near here."

  The name sounded familiar, but robert could not place it. "Jimmy?"

  "I always called my older brother Jimmy. He preferred it to James. I started coming here because it made me feel closer to him. Other people come in the summer sometimes, but I've never seen anyone this time of year."

  uncertain how to respond, robert moved toward her mount. Though of course he had known about her brother's death, he could not remember ever hearing her talk about her elder sibling before. unhooking the saddle, the one that had been repaired without Aurelia's knowledge, robert inspected the fine leather, testing its strength in his hands. The stitches remained taut. Any clues had been erased by the strap's repair.

  He slumped down on the warm granite beside Aurelia, and soon they both indulged in biscuits slathered with rich toppings; the sweetness of strawberry jam melded with honey butter. between bites, he shared what he had learned during his trip to midbury.

  she listened without flinching. "did Harvey ever tell you why gregory took the team Carnival night?"

  "No, but he told drew, who told me. gregory was assigned to drive edward of Anthone."

  The biscuit in her hand froze on its way to her mouth.

  "edward arrived in Tyralt on Carnival night," robert continued to explain. "gregory picked him up from the port and brought him to the palace."

  "do you think edward was in the carriage when it came after us?"

  "There's no way of knowing." robert wiped a sticky hand on a napkin and told her about edward's colt.

  Aurelia frowned at the description of the golden horse. "If the colt is wild, I suppose my father might be the one who wanted it stabled at midbury instead of the palace. He has never been easy around horses--not since Jimmy's death."

  Jimmy's death. Another voluntary reference to what had always been a taboo subject. robert dared to pursue the topic. "Why not?"

  "He still feels guilty." Her voice was soft.

  robert struggled for a response, not wanting to admit his confusion.

  It must have been apparent, though, because she continued: "you know how my brother died?"

  "yes." He had heard reports, though he could not say he actually remembered learning of the incident. At the time, robert had been quite young and had not yet known Aurelia. "His horse spooked at a snake and threw him during a hunting expedition."

  she shook her head, her face unreadable. "That's the public version of the story. He was thrown--right in front of my father. but Jimmy didn't die from the fall. He was trampled by my father's horse."

  Aurelia leaned back until her elbows rested on stone. she breathed for a moment, then whispered, "When he died, this central pillar holding everything up disintegrated. since then my father has been busy trying to build up all the pieces around it. except there's still no center, so the structure is never stable. Father keeps trying and trying, but he can't get around that fact. I'm not sure which one of us misses Jimmy more."

  robert stayed silent, not wanting to break the spell. she had never let him into her personal life before. maybe that night on the bridge, but no--that night he had done all the sharing, about his life and his dreams. she had sidestepped his question about her schooling and exploded when he asked why she did not travel. He had wondered about her reaction at the time but failed to pursue it. Only now was he beginning to see what a mess she was inside.

  After a long pause, she continued: "I can't help but feel if my brother were here it would solve all my problems. I'm sure my father feels the same way."

  "Then you are both wrong." robert ran his thumb along a narrow crevice in the rock. "How can you know what life would have been like? your problems would be different, but they would still exist."

  A sigh escaped her throat. "I know that in my head, but my heart isn't easy to convince."

  As grateful as robert was to have earned her trust, he knew his insight was not what she needed. "maybe you should talk with your father about how you feel."

  she shook her head. "I've tried dozens of times. He has too much to worry about without my concerns. He lives like somebody walking on a glass chessboard. The surface looks good, but the slightest crack might send him crashing through the squares. The older I get, the less he wants to talk to me."

  "Why?" asked robert, striving to understand.

  Wrinkles furrowed her smooth brow. "I think I remind him of my mother. I look like her. After she left the palace, he destroyed most of her pictures, but I still have a small portrait about the size of your palm. she was plain like me."

  What? robert stared in disbelief. The young woman beside him with her honey-brown skin and the sun glinting off her face was so far from plain that he would have accused her of flirting if it weren't for the sincere tone in her voice. He opened his mouth to argue, then thought better of it. If he told her how she looked to him, there would be little to keep him from confessing the way she made him feel, and this was not the time. Not when she was clearly hurting and in need of someone in whom to confide. Instead he asked a question he had always wondered about. "Why did your mother leave?"

  "you mean why did she abandon my father and me after Jimmy's death? Father won't say. maybe it's my fault." The raw pain on Aurelia's face made robert wish he had not asked.

  He had always prided himself on seeing beyond Aurelia's status to the real person underneath, but it had never occurred to him that she might not see her own strengths, that her sharp tongue and strong opinions might hide a foundation of self-doubt. Had she let her father's grief mar her own sense of worth? And had she given up her own dreams, not because she wanted to rule the kingdom but because she felt it was her duty, her only means of earning her father's love?

  "Talking with friends has always been easier than talking with my father," Aurelia added, then paused. "It is nice to have someone who still treats me as a friend."

  "What do you mean?" robert scrambled to keep up with the twist in her commentary. "you've always had friends."

  "They've changed around me, the friends we used to have in class. They aren't comfortable with the attention." she began fumbling around, picking up the lunch materials. "Like you on the ride here, having to follow all those guards." she stood up. "I could see your mind turning, thinking you were trapped and wanting to get away."

  He started to interrupt, but she overrode him. "Oh, my old friends haven't been cruel. I know it's not about me, but one by one they drifted away. daria was the last."

  He saw, then, what these last few years must have been like for her, watching her classmates go on to their own pursuits while she remained behind. And even worse, having them abandon her friendship because it was too hard.

  "What about Chris?" robert took the napkins and jars from Aurelia's hands and slid the items under the basket lid. "He's still in the palace."

  "Chris?" A threat of humor tinged her voice. she backed off the rock and onto the grassy hillside. "He and I have never been close. He's only spending time with me because you're here, robert. even you," she said, looking away, "you're only here because of your job."

  something inside robert snapped. Now she was lumping him in with all the people who had let her down, reducing his relationship with her to no more than duty. He could not let her do that, could not allow her to see him through that warped lens. He moved forward and gripped her shoulders. "Never." His voice was harsh. "Never think that!" He backed away, surprised at the strength of his reaction. yelling at her would scarcely help.

  Her eyes widened.

  embarrassed, he looked down, unable to avoid the tremble in his voice. He could not bear it if she were afraid of him. He had to correct this, now, even if it meant crossing a line. "I . . . I would not be here if I didn't consider you my friend." More than a friend. "do you think I would have traveled this far to help your father . . . or your sister?"

  she stayed silent.

  Coward, he thought. Look at he
r. He lifted his head and instantly regretted the action. salt water veiled her eyes, and in that moment he would have done anything to remove those tears.

  "I . . . , " she managed to whisper. "I thought you came because your uncle asked you."

  "He asked my father," robert corrected in a soft voice and stepped forward, unable to leave her standing there alone. "I am here"--his hands slid back up to her shoulders, this time very gently--"because of you." He could not help himself. His lips came down to hers, telling her as tenderly as possible why he had come.

  Chapter Ten

  INTENSITY

  AURELIA COULD NOT BREATHE. Or THINK. THIS WAS not--she had not expected this. Her heart pounded in her ears as robert drew back in slow motion. she avoided his gaze, unable to deal with the emotions swarming over her chest, her brain, her hands. Heat and loss, joy and fear, desire and embarrassment.

  Her eyes landed on her horse. motivated by a terrible instinct to run away, she headed for bianca. A coat of warm gray horse-hair restrained the panic. Aurelia swung onto the bare back and dug her heels into the mare's sides.

  but robert stepped forward, blocking her path. His hands hung loose, and she did not dare look at his face. He must be standing there to apologize, to say he was sorry--that he had not meant it. And she could not, she could not listen to him say it, because somewhere deep down under all her chaos and confusion, she hoped he had.

  As if controlled by another source, she urged bianca around him into a gallop, calling in a foreign voice, "I'll race you on the meadow. show me what that stallion of yours can really do!"

  And she was gone, down the creek bed, over the hill, onto the meadow. she cantered bianca in a large circle. A spotted thrush burst from the brush, its harsh call scolding her for disturbing its hiding place. Coward, coward, coward, her mind thumped to the sound of bianca's even strides. How could she have been so rude? Why couldn't she have just blushed and turned away? What if he didn't come after her?

  Horror. she was going to have to return. The picnic basket and the saddle were there.

  He might think she wanted him to go away.

  He might leave her behind.

  He might--

  The rhythmic sound of cantering hooves broke into her thoughts. Two saddles and the picnic basket tumbled to the ground. Hooves sped to a gallop. robert's hair streamed away from his face, and she heard him shout, "Come on!" as he swept past her.

  The race. she whirled bianca, heels digging into the mare's sides. The gray horse gathered speed, her smooth gait seeming to skim over the earthen surface. Air blasted Aurelia's ears, blocking other sound with the power of its roar. speckled meadow grasses blurred into obscurity. moving muscles propelled her forward, and she felt . . .

  Free. Freedom must feel like this; the air, the space, the absolute absence of control. Time had suspended itself beneath the pounding hooves. she gave herself up to it, burying her head against bianca's neck and letting herself enjoy the moments of thoughtless flight.

  Three quarters of the way across the meadow, she looked up to see robert circling his stallion into a loop all the way on the other side. she gasped and pulled up in astonishment, her pulse throbbing as her lungs sucked in fresh meadow air. bianca fought the bit, and Aurelia patted the sleek gray neck. "That's all right, bianca." she turned the mare toward the hill where robert had dropped the saddles. "No one ever trounced us like that before."

  As she approached the slope, Horizon's familiar snout drew up on her right side. Aurelia eyed the large stallion. His coat gleamed more red than brown in the bright sunlight, and he lifted his neck and tail with pride. Braggart, she thought, but you deserve it. despite the race, Horizon's breathing remained as relaxed as earlier that day. "He may not have the papers to prove it," she said, "but he certainly runs like a desert horse. bianca and I may need a week to regain our overconfidence."

  robert smiled and swung off the stallion's back. "Would you like to ride him?" he asked.

  The gesture even more than the opportunity took Aurelia by surprise. she had seen the way robert treated his horse, with humor and strength and always a great deal of respect. He would not make the offer to just anyone. For the second time that day, he had left her speechless.

  unable to voice her thoughts, she dismounted and let herself study the magnificent stallion as robert went about replacing the blanket and saddle. Horizon's broad chest loomed at the height of her shoulders, and his ears flicked sideways as if to tell her she had no business trying to ride him. That is what you think. she gathered her patience, knowing this would be no ordinary ride.

  Then, taking the reins into her left hand, she mounted. Horizon froze: elbows and knees locked into place. He was testing her, waiting for her to make a mistake. One step at a time, then, no rushing ahead of herself. she patted him on the neck, and politely asked him to go.

  No response.

  she tried again, this time changing her tone to a command.

  No response.

  At her side came the sound of robert smothering a laugh, but she kept her focus on the animal below her. Holding her temper in check, she allowed her brain to click away at the problem. The stallion wanted her to dislike him, wanted her to give up and choose a simpler mount. but it was the challenge that appealed to her, that and his speed. she kicked with her heels and applied a slight pressure to his belly. Then more pressure. And more.

  Horizon stood like a mausoleum.

  "robert, hand me my whip," she said, speaking for the first time since mounting. robert creased his forehead and bit his lower lip as if trying not to refuse.

  "don't look at me like that," she said, taking the short leather instrument from him. "I'm not going to harm your precious stallion. The worst that can happen is he'll punish me."

  Exactly, robert's face seemed to say.

  The whip hit the dark rump, and Horizon bolted. Aurelia curled around his long neck, securing her grasp and letting the crop spiral to the ground as she hung on. Horizon lurched in one direction, then another, trying to hurl her off. He bucked. He reared. He raced across the meadow in a zigzagging dance of circles and lines, starts and stops. The soft earth churned under his sharp hooves and pounding hindquarters.

  Aurelia waited--a still, clinging body on the horse's back. she could not win this fight with logic or knowledge, only with patience. but when it came to animals, she had patience. With Horizon, she could afford to wait. she waited until his sides heaved in huge panting breaths. sweat gleamed on the brown-red coat, and his head drooped from exhaustion.

  Then she eased her chest up off the stallion's neck and began putting him through his paces. Horizon went left when she said left. He went right when she said right. He trotted, cantered, and even leaped over a fallen tree trunk at the meadow's edge.

  "And how, madam, am I going to make it back to the palace on this pitiful excuse for a horse?" teased robert when she finally dismounted.

  removing the saddle from the stallion's back, she plopped down on the ground. "I guess you'll have to stomach my company while he recovers." dropping onto her back, she rested a hand on her forehead. It came away shining with sweat. Her hair blew out in a halo of loose strands around her face, and she tossed the remaining hairpins into the grass. Then propping herself up on her elbow, she looked at robert.

  Worry shadowed his face as he traced a design on the back of bianca's saddle. He does nothing but worry, she thought. Worry about talking to me, worry about not talking to me. "Tell me about training horses on the frontier," she said.

  His face cleared. Its lines and hollows began to shift with animation, and the tone of his voice rose and fell with expression. she broke in to ask questions and to tell her own stories.

  Happiness filled her, light and freeing. Aurelia recognized the feeling but from so long ago she could not believe it was real. Any moment it might flutter off with a meadowlark and leave her to cloudy seriousness.

  The conversation went on and on, and the happiness floated inside her, rem
aining as she noted the passing of the day and the need to begin on the return journey. she got up to saddle bianca, still listening as robert described how his stallion had dropped a cocky hired hand on the paddock ground. "sounds like Horizon is a good judge of character"--she laughed, then rethought her stance--"or maybe he's just loyal."

  she tightened the girth and turned to hear her friend's response. but to her surprise, robert had stood up just behind her. His eyes searched her face from less than a foot away. The proximity startled her, as did his intent expression. "Wait," he said. He reached out as if to take her hand, then pulled back, brushing her wrist with the backs of his trailing fingers.

  despite herself, her heart began pounding in her ears for the second time that afternoon. Her thoughts returned to the earlier moment by the creek bed, and her body longed to flee. but something even stronger demanded she stay.

  "I know it's getting late, but there's something I need to say," he continued. "I can't afford to put it off any longer, as much as I'd like." His next words cut the haze. "I have a plan to capture the assassin and whoever is behind the plot."

  Happiness drained in rapid descent.

  "I've tried and tried to avoid this"--he kept talking--"but without a motive, I can't accuse either the king of Anthone or the queen of Tyralt. every way I look at it, I get the same answer. I need you as bait."

  Chapter Eleven

  THE BAIT

  AURELIA TRIED TO keep Her HANDS FROM Trembling as she entered her stepmother's dressing room. The day had dawned as beautifully as the day before, but the task ahead seemed to screen out the sunlight even better than the room's filmy curtains. elise's frown shone in the vanity glass. surely there was no real danger. even if elise was behind the plot, she would not dirty her own white hands with her stepdaughter's blood.

  Nonetheless, the sight of melony sent a wave of relief flowing through Aurelia's veins. A brief reprieve. The younger princess sat in a wicker chair beside the vanity table with her hands folded in her lap and her ankles neatly crossed. Her cheeks glowed like polished apples, and her green dress shimmered like garden leaves. she reminded Aurelia of an illustration in a children's book.