Read Online The Amaranth Enchantment by Julie Berry - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Julie Berry
Ads: Link
brother to look after her, until this happened.
"What did you do for her?" I asked.
Beryl looked at me curiously. "What do you mean?"
I gestured impatiently. "Did you... apologize to her? Tell her what happened?
Help her in some way?"
Beryl frowned. "If I had told her, or anyone, they would have tried to arrest me and hang me."
"And?"
She spread out her hands as if this should be obvious. "And it wouldn't have worked. No prison could hold me, no noose could kill me. So it was better for everyone that I went away, wasn't it?"
"Hmm," I said. "But what about the girl?"
Beryl sat a little taller. "I have kept watch on her, through the years, from a distance" she said. "She doesn't know me."
"You need to change that" I said, feeling reckless in the extreme. Who was I to chastise an immortal who has killed? "You need to apologize to her."
84
Beryl stared back at me, her head held high, her face haughty and cold.
"What good would it do?"
Suddenly I was the little girl.
"Much good, perhaps," I said. "Look at her face! You painted it yourself. Was there no one who ever explained to her the reason her brother was taken away?"
Beryl's arms were tightly folded across her chest again. She wouldn't look at me.
"It was decades ago. Almost a lifetime to the girl. Why dig it up again?"
I stared at Beryl until she was forced to look back at me. "Because she's suffered far too long already. Even if she's grown old now, she deserves to know."
Beryl sat motionless for a long moment. Then, to my great surprise, she crumpled, falling back weakly against the arm of the couch.
"Perhaps it would bring her some peace," she said thoughtfully, "regardless of what it does to me."
Page 28
ABC Amber Sony Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcsonylrf.html
My fervor subsided. She meant it.
She reached for my hands. "Lucinda, if I can make some restitution, and if you can bring back my stone, it may be that I can find a way to be content here."
She looked around the room. "I have my painting, and reading, and... Her violet eyes pleaded with me. "I think I have... perhaps you and I will, in time, be... ?"
Friends.
85
I looked back at the paintings on the wall, of Mama arid Papa, and me as a child, and felt a rush of hope. If I could track down Peter somehow, and find that stone, and relieve him of it, one way or another, this home was mine again!
I looked once more at the painting of the glorious youth, and the sorrowing girl. Her face haunted me.
"Who is she, Beryl?" I said." The little girl?"
"Hortensia," Beryl said, watching me closely. "Hortensia Montescue. I believe you call her Aunt."
86
Chapter 12
How could I sleep after that?
But sleep I did. I tumbled into bed and passed immediately into a fitful slumber, dreaming urgent, fretful dreams, full of sorrow, but in the morning they mercifully faded from my mind. Dog slept on the foot of my bed, and that was a comfort, even if his hooves did bash my shins as he ran in his dreams.
When at last I rose, there was a fire to revive and water to heat. In all my preparations for venturing into the city, I soon forgot about my troubled sleep. I bathed in front of the fire in my room, where my nurse used to wash me. Never in all my years with Aunt and Uncle had I had a bath by a fire. And such elegant soap! Scented with lilacs. It smelled like Mama. I soaked and scrubbed my hair until it squeaked. It felt like years of grime and weariness sloughed off me. Dog helped by drinking from the tub.
87
I trimmed my hair and my nails and rubbed ointment into my chapped hands. Then I hunted down my mother's closets and found to my surprise that many of her clothes were still there, and none the worse for wear after a bit of sponging and ironing. I remembered almost every gown. It brought tears to my eyes to see them hanging limp in the closet, not worn by Mama. The one I chose, a blue merino winter dress with lace over the front, smelled of lilacs, too. It made my skin tingle to put it
"What did you do for her?" I asked.
Beryl looked at me curiously. "What do you mean?"
I gestured impatiently. "Did you... apologize to her? Tell her what happened?
Help her in some way?"
Beryl frowned. "If I had told her, or anyone, they would have tried to arrest me and hang me."
"And?"
She spread out her hands as if this should be obvious. "And it wouldn't have worked. No prison could hold me, no noose could kill me. So it was better for everyone that I went away, wasn't it?"
"Hmm," I said. "But what about the girl?"
Beryl sat a little taller. "I have kept watch on her, through the years, from a distance" she said. "She doesn't know me."
"You need to change that" I said, feeling reckless in the extreme. Who was I to chastise an immortal who has killed? "You need to apologize to her."
84
Beryl stared back at me, her head held high, her face haughty and cold.
"What good would it do?"
Suddenly I was the little girl.
"Much good, perhaps," I said. "Look at her face! You painted it yourself. Was there no one who ever explained to her the reason her brother was taken away?"
Beryl's arms were tightly folded across her chest again. She wouldn't look at me.
"It was decades ago. Almost a lifetime to the girl. Why dig it up again?"
I stared at Beryl until she was forced to look back at me. "Because she's suffered far too long already. Even if she's grown old now, she deserves to know."
Beryl sat motionless for a long moment. Then, to my great surprise, she crumpled, falling back weakly against the arm of the couch.
"Perhaps it would bring her some peace," she said thoughtfully, "regardless of what it does to me."
Page 28
ABC Amber Sony Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcsonylrf.html
My fervor subsided. She meant it.
She reached for my hands. "Lucinda, if I can make some restitution, and if you can bring back my stone, it may be that I can find a way to be content here."
She looked around the room. "I have my painting, and reading, and... Her violet eyes pleaded with me. "I think I have... perhaps you and I will, in time, be... ?"
Friends.
85
I looked back at the paintings on the wall, of Mama arid Papa, and me as a child, and felt a rush of hope. If I could track down Peter somehow, and find that stone, and relieve him of it, one way or another, this home was mine again!
I looked once more at the painting of the glorious youth, and the sorrowing girl. Her face haunted me.
"Who is she, Beryl?" I said." The little girl?"
"Hortensia," Beryl said, watching me closely. "Hortensia Montescue. I believe you call her Aunt."
86
Chapter 12
How could I sleep after that?
But sleep I did. I tumbled into bed and passed immediately into a fitful slumber, dreaming urgent, fretful dreams, full of sorrow, but in the morning they mercifully faded from my mind. Dog slept on the foot of my bed, and that was a comfort, even if his hooves did bash my shins as he ran in his dreams.
When at last I rose, there was a fire to revive and water to heat. In all my preparations for venturing into the city, I soon forgot about my troubled sleep. I bathed in front of the fire in my room, where my nurse used to wash me. Never in all my years with Aunt and Uncle had I had a bath by a fire. And such elegant soap! Scented with lilacs. It smelled like Mama. I soaked and scrubbed my hair until it squeaked. It felt like years of grime and weariness sloughed off me. Dog helped by drinking from the tub.
87
I trimmed my hair and my nails and rubbed ointment into my chapped hands. Then I hunted down my mother's closets and found to my surprise that many of her clothes were still there, and none the worse for wear after a bit of sponging and ironing. I remembered almost every gown. It brought tears to my eyes to see them hanging limp in the closet, not worn by Mama. The one I chose, a blue merino winter dress with lace over the front, smelled of lilacs, too. It made my skin tingle to put it
Similar Books
