1416934715(FY) (12 page)

“Not you,” Anastasia said, her voice slightly breathless. “Go get someone else. I do not want you to touch me.”

“My touch is no different than it was a few moments ago,” Raoul answered, his voice cracking with temper and something that ran deeper, a thing I could not quite identify. “Besides, there isn’t anyone
else and you know it. Why must you always behave like a spoiled child?”

Anastasia’s flushed cheeks paled. She pressed her lips together, looped her reins over the pommel, and leaned down. She braced herself on Raoul’s shoulders as he reached up and swept her from the saddle so swiftly that her long dark hair tumbled forward over her shoulder to stream across his own, obscuring both their faces for the time it took Raoul to set her on her feet. Then Anastasia stepped back, brushing her hair from her face with a fierce gesture.

“Anastasia,” said her mother, as she moved down the steps. “Thank goodness you are home.”

“Oh, Maman,” Anastasia said. She turned away from Raoul, but her long hair would not quite release its hold. It clung to his shirt, like a sweetheart not ready to be parted from him, Raoul turned away, lifting a hand to brush it aside.

“
Maman”
Anastasia said once more, and I heard the way her voice broke.

“Heavens,” her mother exclaimed, as she reached her. “What is it, my child?”

“Nothing, It is nothing,” Anastasia said fiercely. “I stayed too long in the sun, that’s all. And the weather today makes me feel so strange.”

“It’s because there’s a storm coming,” her mother said. “It makes us all feel that way.” She put an arm around Anastasia’s waist, then pressed a hand to her forehead. “Gracious, you are burning up. Come into the house. We’ll get you out of these clothes.”

“I want you to help me, Maman,” Anastasia said, her voice suddenly small and pleading like a child’s. “I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. Not anyone.”

“But of course I will help you,” her mother said. Without another word, she led Anastasia into the house.

Raoul stood beside Anastasia’s horse, his eyes gazing straightforward at nothing. I came down the steps till I stood at his side.

“Would you like me to help rub down the horses?” I asked.

Raoul gave a start. “What?”

“Would you like me to help with the horses?” I said once more, even as I saw something hot and furious flash into Raoul’s eyes. By way of answer, He took two steps, hauled me up against him, and pressed his lips to mine.

Raoul’s lips felt just as his eyes looked, desperate, angry, wild. His arm around my waist felt like a band of solid iron. I felt the world do two entirely contradictory things at once. Explode wide open. Narrow down. I felt the way Raoul’s heart thundered in his chest, heard the echo of its rhythm in my own. And suddenly I understood the sound that it was making.

No,
my heart said, even as it pounded more furious than it ever had before.
Not this. Not him. Not this. No. No. No.

I made a sound, and Raoul let me go.

We stood for a moment, staring at each other, while the wind explored the corners of the courtyard.

“Oh, damn,” Raoul said suddenly. “I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I? I’m sorry, Cendrillon.”

I made a second sound now. A strange combination of outrage and laughter.

“You’re
sorry?”
I cried. “You kiss me out of the blue and then stand there and tell me that you’re sorry? How can you possibly be such a dolt?”

Raoul’s face clouded. Seizing the mare’s reins, He began to turn her around. “Fine. You don’t want an apology, I’ll save my breath.”

I planted myself in front of him. “You even think about taking another step,” I said, “and I swear on my mother’s grave I’ll break your arm. I don’t want an apology, Raoul. What I want is an explanation.”

Raoul dropped the reins, put his hands on his hips. “I was trying,” He said succinctly, “to avoid a broken heart.”

I felt all my exasperation evaporate as suddenly as it had come upon me. “Oh,” I said, and somehow, it didn’t sound foolish at all. “Anastasia,” I said. “It’s Anastasia, isn’t it?”

Love at first sight,
I thought. I wondered why I hadn’t recognized the signs for what they were before now.

They had been there in the tight silences between Raoul and Anastasia whenever they met, the compressed lips, the quick glances from the corners of
their eyes. Not all love is joyful, particularly when it seems hopeless. She was a noble-born lady, and proud of it. Raoul was a country stable boy.

“What it is,” Raoul declared now, as he picked up the reins once more and began to lead the horses into the barn, “is absolutely impossible.”

“So it is Anastasia, then,” I said. I followed Raoul into the barn. Together, we undid straps, pulled off saddles, began to rub the horses down, working in silence as we had so often before. But this silence was different, as if the memory of the kiss we’d shared still hovered in the air between us. The knowledge of all the things it had been, and the things that it had not.

I suppose every girl wonders who her true love will be. Will it be some handsome stranger, or the boy next door? I can’t precisely claim I had dreamed of falling in love with Raoul, but I would be a liar if I said the possibility had never crossed my mind.

I took the curry brush from its place and began to brush the coat of the mare Anastasia had ridden to a rich and glossy shine.

“How long have you known?”

Raoul remained silent just long enough that I thought he wasn’t going to answer.

“Almost from the first moment,” He finally replied. “And don’t think I haven’t tried to talk myself out of it, because I have, every single day since they all arrived.” He shot a quick glance in my direction, as if gauging my reaction. “I’m not a complete idiot,” He said. “Even if I am a dolt. Just because I can fall in love
with Anastasia doesn’t mean I believe we can have a future together.”

“I’m sorry I called you names,” I said. “I was a little . . .” I took a second to ponder the word I wanted, “Annoyed. For future reference, don’t ever kiss a girl and then tell her you’re sorry that you’ve done it.” I handed him the brush.

“Thank you for the advice,” He said. “It comes a little late, but I’ll keep it in mind for the future.”

“Don’t tell me you kissed her, too!” I cried. “Wait a minute. Of course you did. That’s why she looked and behaved the way she did when the two of you arrived.”

“Yes, I kissed her,” Raoul burst out. “She kissed me right back, if you must know. And it doesn’t mean a thing. I am no one, and she is noble-born. She may have forgotten it for a moment or two, but she remembered soon enough. Life would have been a lot simpler if it could have been you.”

“Oh, Raoul,” I said. I stopped brushing the horse, turned, and put my arms around him even though his back was to me. Raoul rested his head against his horse’s flank, then pivoted to return the embrace. I felt the warmth of his breath against my throat.

“I suppose you’re quite sure that you don’t love me:.” He inquired after a while.

I thumped a fist against his back. “I love you with all my heart, as you very well know. It’s just not the happily-ever-after kind of love. I apologize if I’ve ruined all your plans.”

“
I’ve
ruined all my plans,” Raoul replied. “But there’s
no help for it. I got myself into this mess. I’ll just have to figure out a way to get myself back out of it.”

“And just how do you intend to do that?” inquired a fiew voice. Raoul and I sprang apart. Anastasia was standing at the entrance to the stall.

“Anastasia,” Raoul said hoarsely.

“Do not speak to me” she cut him off in a ragged voice. “I did not give you permission to use my name. I did not give you permission to tell me that you loved me. I believed you, fool that I was.”

Her voice rose, the tone mimicking and shrill. “
I cant bear this any longer, Anastasia. No matter what I do, I cant get you out of my mind. I think of you when I should be attending to my duties. I dream of you at night.”

She stamped her foot, as if the action might drive Raoul’s words away. “And I let what you said turn my head. It was so surprising, so eloquent for a stable boy. Now I see the reason youre so good at fine words. You’ve been practicing on Cendrillon.”

Before either Raoul or I realized what she intended, Anastasia strode forward and seized me by the arm. “He’s kissed you, hasn’t he?” she demanded.

“No,” I protested. “Not that way”

Anastasia gave my arm a little shake. “Youre lying,” she said. “I can see it in your
eyes.”

“He was just trying to prove he didn’t love me,” I said.

“I don’t care if he does love you,” Anastasia all but shouted.

With a quick, hard jerk, Anastasia began to tug
me out of the stall and toward the stable door. “I don’t care if he’s always loved you. A stable boy and a kitchen maid. The two of you are perfect for each other. You can live happily ever after for all I care.”

We were out in the courtyard now. I felt a sudden gust of wind and the first few drops of rain begin to fall.

“But I will not be made a fool of in my own house.”

“It’s not your house,” Raoul said furiously as he charged after us. “It’s Cendrillon’s.”

“Raoul” I said. “Stop.”

“So she was born in this miserable place,” Anastasia flashed out, as she continued to pull me across the courtyard. “What difference does that make? She’s still just a servant. She can be dismissed like any other.”

We reached the front steps. “Maman!” Anastasia suddenly called out. “
Maman!”

The front door flew open and Chantal de Saint-Andre dashed out. “What in the world is happening?” she cried. “Anastasia, I thought you were in your room resting. What is wrong?”

“I want you to dismiss Cendrillon,” Anastasia said, all but sobbing now. “I will not have her in the house one more moment. I want you to send her away. I demand that you send her away.”

“You can’t just pack her off like a piece of unwanted baggage,” Raoul said hotly.

Anastasia’s face went bone white. “Don’t you tell
me what I can and cannot do,” she said. “You are no one. I am a daughter of the house .”

Raoul turned to me, and I saw the fury and pain, both bright, in his eyes, “Tell her,” He said urgently. “Tell them both right now If you don’t do it, then I will.”

“Tell us what, if you please?” Chantal de Saint-Andre said in a firm yet quiet tone. She came partway down the steps. “Do not fear to speak, Cendrillon. I don’t understand what is happening, but I do know you have the right to speak, to defend yourself.”

“I don’t need to be defended,” I answered. “For I have done nothing wrong.”

“Then speak because I ask you to,” she said. “What is being hidden that should be told?”

I lifted my chin, and met my stepmother’s eyes.

“I am not a servant, to be sent away on a whim,” I said. “I am Etienne de Brabant’s daughter.”

Absolute silence filled the courtyard. It seemed to me that even the wind stopped blowing. The rain held off, as if uncertain where to fall. Only my stepmother’s gaze remained steady, her eyes looking straight into mine.

Then, utterly without warning, Anastasia moved. She released my arm. But only so she could raise her hand to slap me smartly across the face.

“
Liar!”
she cried.

“Anastasia,” her mothers voice cracked like a whip. “That is quite enough.” She walked down the remaining steps that separated her from Anastasia, Raoul, and me. Over her shoulder, I saw Amelie skitter out onto the front porch.

“You must never strike another, not even in anger,” Chantal de Saint-Andre went on. “Now, calm down, all of you, and tell me what this is all about.”

“I caught them together in the stable, Maman,” Anastasia hurried into speech. “They had their arms around each other. I wont have that kind of behavior. I
will not have it.
I want them both dismissed at once.”

“You can’t dismiss either of us,” I said. “This is as much Raoul’s house as it is mine. He is forbidden to leave de Brabant lands by my father’s own order.”

“How is it possible,” Chantal de Saint-Andre said, “that Etienne de Brabant is your father and I know nothing about it? Is there anyone else who can vouch for the truth of what you say?”

“There is Old Mathilde,” I replied, “She delivered me.”

“And who was your mother?” Anastasia sneered, “Some local peasant girl, perhaps?”

“My mother was Constanze d’Este,” I replied, and as I spoke the words, I felt a burden lift from my heart. My father might never claim me, but here, in this moment, I had finally claimed my mother for my own.

Anastasia’s face went white to the lips, and her mother’s dark eyes grew wide.

“I have heard that name,” Chantal de Saint-Andre said softly, “There were whispers of it at court, the day Etienne and I took our vows, Constanze d’Este, whose beauty had no equal, who died young. But not one whisper that she died bringing a child into the world. Why did your father not tell me of you himself?”

“Because he wishes I had never been born. My father has never forgiven me for taking my mother out of the world by coming into it. He has never acknowledged me, not to anyone outside this house.”