Read Online A Mortal Glamour by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro - Free Book Online

the Cardinal had not befriended me, I would have had my head shaved years ago, and been given to one of my distant kinsmen for chastisement. It would be harder for me than for you."
    "But—” Aungelique protested around the dates.
    "No. I won't discuss it more. There will be another time, when you will be able to come here without the threat of your father's wrath looming over you, and then, if you still want to share my life here, you would be most welcome. Until that time, be wise, ma Frèrée, and do as they wish you to do."
    "I won't whip myself.” Her resolve, which had been weakening, was once again firm.
    "That is for you to decide. I will not forget you, and should I hear word from Pierre, I will let you know of it, one way or another. You will not be wholly cut off, or—” She held out the last of the dates.
    Aungelique hesitated only an instant, then took them. “I thank you, Comtesse, for your courtesy."
    "And at the moment you want to scratch my eyes out. I would, too, if I had to go from here to a convent, whips or no whips. This is pleasure; the convent is not.” Orienne rose languidly so that the throbbing in her temples would not make her ill. “I have ways to get word to you, ma Frèrée, and in time you will find the means to send messages to me as well. It is often done, no matter what you hear. When you have had a little time, you will discover—"
    "I don't want to find the means!” Aungelique shouted, unable to control her temper any longer. “I want to run away."
    "From here as well? And then what? They dare not take you at a brothel, and you are not one to sell yourself at the waterfront, are you? That is no more free than life in your convent, believe me. I have spoken to women who ... But that isn't what you mean, is it? You want to find yourself your own Noveautie, where you may live for your pleasure and the delight of others.” She sighed and held out her hand as if to make amends. “When next you come here, it will be different."
    "Will it? Because I will then be so old and haggard that all I will be good for is setting stitches in servants’ clothing? Because I will have forgotten everything I desire?” She trembled. “I want what you have, Orienne; lovers and food and pleasures and ... the rest of it. I was never made to be a nun, and God will not be fooled by my father's determination.” In one last attempt, she went on as emphatically as she could. “In fact, it may be that in returning to the convent, I am aiding him in the worse sin—pride, for he believes he can instill a vocation where God has not bestowed it. It may be that if I remain here, his fault will be less, and in time he will thank me for refusing to do as he wished and add to his—"
    "You are clever,” Orienne interrupted her. “And perhaps you are right. But God's wishes are not for us to ponder and His Will is not in question; your father's is. He has said that you will accept the bridegroom he has chosen or you will wear the veil, and until he is dead, you must abide by what he declares. I will welcome you when you return, ma Frèrée, but I have already said that it is not in my nature to take up gauntlets on others’ behalf. It is too dangerous, and there is no merit in it.” She gave Aungelique an arch smile. “It is not forever, little one. That young man—Thibault Col? Is that his name?—will not forget you."
    "That ... has nothing to ... do with it,” Aungelique insisted without conviction.
    "And if not he, then another will want you. There are always men, ma Frèrée, and they have their desires. Your Pierre cannot forget you, either, can he? And not only because you are cousins. This Thibault will miss you, and Pierre."
    "Thibault Col will not remember,” Aungelique murmured, thinking of the many things she had seen in her brief stay with Comtesse Orienne.
    "There you are wrong,” Orienne said, raising her head a trifle in order to remind Aungelique which of them was the more worldly; and