Fruit of the Golden Vine Read Free

which grew in a wild profusion of colors against the manor’s left flank. Adelina opened the wrought-iron gate and led Silvana beneath the feathered leaves of the trees lining the garden path. As they walked, insects droned, birds cackled from hidden branches and the majestic marble fountain played its watery melody.
    “As I thought,” said Silvana. “Beautiful.” They passed beneath an ivy-choked archway, and she gestured to a nearby stone bench shaded by the leaves of a tall, broad-limbed chestnut tree. “Let’s sit a moment.”
    “Very well.” Adelina hoped the trembling of her knees wasn’t visible through the fabric of her dress.
    Silvana sat without grace, her trousered legs apart and her elbows on her knees, and Adelina perched beside her. Their shoulders touched, and for an exhilarated second, Adelina was unable to think of anything but that slight contact.
    “This is much better than tapestry work.” Silvana leaned against the tree’s mottled bark. “Why didn’t you want my brother to kiss your hand?”
    Adelina took a moment to settle the shivering of her breath. “Because I didn’t want his grubby lips on my skin.”
    Silvana laughed, and Adelina’s heart skipped yet again. She’d never heard a woman laugh with such confidence. “How do you know mine are any less grubby?”
    “All men have grubby lips.” Adelina shredded a leaf between her fingers. “Because they talk nothing but horse shit.”
    Silvana laughed again and with such force that a flock of startled birds fled the branches above them. “Hardly the words of a respectable young woman.”
    “Ira’s the respectable one, not me.”
    Silvana continued to chuckle, her eyes slitted.
    “Why do you carry a sword?” asked Adelina when Silvana’s amusement had subsided.
    “To protect myself from bandits.” Silvana tapped her sword’s dented hilt. “Rafael and I have been traveling a great deal.”
    “I don’t know much about you two, except that Mother thinks Irena’s going to marry your brother. Where are you from?”
    “It’s a long story.” Silvana brushed a leaf from her shirt, a loose, dark green garment that suggested the outline of her small breasts. “I’ll tell you the short version. My brother and I are from Weldhaim. Do you know where that is?”
    “Yes. To the north.”
    “Quite a distance. We have a manor there, left to us by our father, which is attached to a small village that also belongs to us. Lately, however, we’ve let the steward run it while we travel and explore the world. Rafael met your father recently, and he learned of Irena’s availability. He’s here to try his hand.”
    “I see.”
    A rabbit leaped from a bush and wandered toward the herb garden, where it sat with its nose amid the leaves. Adelina watched until it wriggled back into hiding. Her distraction gone, she turned her attention to Silvana’s profile. That high-bridged nose, those pouting lips, that strange tracing on her cheek, the way it gleamed in the sunlight…Adelina took an unsteady breath. “How old are you?”
    “Older than you.”
    “That’s no answer. Are you older than Irena?”
    “Quite a bit.” Silvana’s lips formed the knowing, slanted smile that had so enraptured Adelina earlier. “Old enough that I’d rather not say.”
    “Twenty-eight?”
    “Older.”
    Adelina scrunched her forehead. “Thirty?”
    “Older, I’m afraid.”
    “Thirty-four?”
    “Younger.” Silvana raised her hand. “No, no more guesses! Just use your imagination from there.”
    “What’s that beautiful design on your face?” Impelled by daring, Adelina placed her fingertip against Silvana’s cheek—the soft skin set her heart skittering again—and traced the branching lines. Her fingers trembled as they moved. “It’s like a tree.”
    Silvana tilted her head, allowing Adelina to run her fingers toward her neck. “It’s a custom of our family.” Adelina’s caress reached the delicate shape of Silvana’s collarbone,