Roses & Thorns Read Online Free

hug. "Then I simply will not
marry."
    "And
when the boys do?"
    Angelique
shifted uncomfortably. The thought of being the kitchen maid to her brothers'
families had never been an appealing idea, but it was a realistic one.
    "There
are many things that are uncertain in our lives, Angelique." Her mother's
eyes began to close. The effort of talking and sitting had begun to take its
toll. "It may be that marriage to an old pot-belly would be less terrible
than the drafts of the kitchen maid's attic room. But it may be more repulsive
to share your bed with someone like that than to scrub the hearthstones. You
must decide which you will risk."
    "It
will be alright, Mama." Angelique fought her own tears as she settled the
thin, small woman back under the quilt. Her mother's frailty, her skin so icy
cold even on such a warm day, frightened her.
    Her
gaze fell to the nightstand where the silver rose lay. In spite of Aloysius'
half-truths, Angelique knew what her decision would be.
    It
seemed inevitable.

Chapter
3
    Although
it was midmorning, the damp mists of dawn still lingered. Aloysius paced the
parlor floorboards, muttering about the time and how he really ought to be in
town with his sons. It didn't seem right to him to leave his new shop without
its proprietor's care so soon.
    But
when Aloysius had started to mumble about the blessings of a house that skirted
the city's edge, Angelique had fled to her mother's room. Her stomach was tied
in enough knots without being reminded of his own misgivings. And she knew that
he had them, even if he wouldn't voice them directly for fear of discouraging
her.
    So
she had quietly taken her window seat above the courtyard and schooled herself
to wait. Her mother's faint snore was reassuring, and Angelique was relieved
that the sleeping powder had finally taken effect. She half-wished the woman
would awaken but they had said their good-byes at dawn, and it had been days
since her mother had slept well.
    Below,
boards creaked under Aloysius' feet and she sighed. A breeze fluttered past the
tattered lace curtain. The scents of dust straw and sweaty horses mingled with
a green freshness from the meadows beyond. The soft coolness of the woods that lined
the road came to her too, and Angelique heard a bird begin a friendly squabble
with its neighbor somewhere. Spring was here at last.
    She
felt vaguely sad at leaving. She had spent her entire life in this house. She
knew every worn piece of linen, every unraveled thread in the carpets, every
splintered edge of wood. It was familiar place, and her mother's room had
always been welcoming But this had never been her home. She had never felt she
truly belonged here. Aloysius and her brothers hadn't let her forget that she
disgraced them, and therefore herself, with her very existence.
    Then,
suddenly, she had a choice. Since her decision to leave had been announced,
Aloysius and her brothers had begun to treat her differently, almost
considerately. The change amused her but it hadn't made her feel any more a
part of their family.
    It
was strange, but as this day drew closer, Angelique had become aware of a
growing excitement that was replacing her initial anxiety. A faint hope formed
within her that somehow this new life would welcome her and she would find a
place where she could belong. She held onto that hope tenaciously.
    The
clatter of horse and carriage across the cobblestone broke the quiet. Angelique
pulled herself up with a start and peered through the thin lace. Her eyes
widened at the sight of six matched grays and the white carriage. Aloysius
hurried out to greet the small man who climbed down from his seat beside the
driver. Her nerves fluttered as she realized the manservant was declining to
enter the house. It was time. She was actually leaving.
    Hastily
Angelique stood, glancing at her dress and smoothing the blue-gray silk down
over the layers of petticoats. She had never worn a dress this fine, although
the fashion was simple as she was