Golden Roses Read Free Page B

aware only of a determination not to give way. She had to be strong. Had to be. Now she was all alone. Perhaps, she thought wildly, perhaps she had always been alone.
    She leaned forward to press her lips against his. It was as though she had kissed a marble statue.
    It was her hello to her father…and her goodbye.

Chapter Two
    Amber lay on her side, staring into the shadows. Someone, she could not remember who, had told her this was her room. Hers? Nothing in this house was hers.
    Absently, she studied the petite carved cherrywood desk and the large, ornate walnut cabinet where someone had hung her clothes. Her empty trunk sat in one corner next to a three-paneled dressing screen with a peacock embroidered on it. Thick draperies of wine velvet blocked the light at the double glass doors. She supposed there was a balcony beyond the doors. But she cared not at all. What mattered? She was suspended in a huge cobweb, and could move neither forward nor backward. She lacked the will even to try.
    It had been Valdis who dragged her from her father’s coffin that night, lifting her in his arms despite her sobbing protests. He had brought her here. Valdis had shown no emotion, no compassion that night or during the funeral the next day.
    How long ago had that been? She had only fuzzy recollections of a young Mexican girl bringing trays of food and urging her to eat. Amber hadn’t eaten, but she slept almost continually, glad for the reprieve.
    But now she was awake—wide awake—and no matter how hard she tried, sleep was not going to take her away again.
    She rolled onto her back and stared up at the white lace canopy. A satin comforter covered her, and she shoved it away, impatient at the sight of the gown she had been wearing for no telling how long. She could not even remember changing from the dress she had worn to the funeral.
    The funeral. A lump rose in her throat as she remembered how she had stared down in horror at the raw, gaping hole in the ground—that terrible gate to eternity. Her eyes had moved to the wooden casket which contained not only her father, but the dreams of what might have been between them, and her future. All of these were lowered into the eager earth.
    The sound of the door opening startled her, and she sank back on the pillows, clutching the comforter to her neck. She watched silently as a young girl crossed the room, carrying a tray, and set it down on the table beside the bed.
    “Ah, you are awake! Good.” The girl hurried to open the draperies, and Amber blinked at the sunshine spilling into the room.
    “How do you feel? You have slept so long and eaten nothing. You must be very weak.”
    Amber looked up into the round, dark eyes in the pretty Mexican face. It was, she realized gratefully, a sign of caring. With a shy smile, she answered, “Yes, I do feel weak…and very hungry But how long have I slept? And who are you?”
    “My name is Dolita.” The girl smiled, reaching to plump the pillows. Then she settled the tray across Amber’s lap. “You have slept for almost four days and nights.”
    Amber gasped. “No wonder I’m starving.” She looked down at the platter of eggs and the large fried steak, and her stomach rumbled eagerly. There were large, crisp brown rolls dripping butter, and a bowl of orange slices.
    The girl turned away. “I am going to bring hot water for your tub. You will want to bathe and dress. Perhaps you would like a walk in the garden later, for some fresh air.”
    “Wait, don’t go yet,” Amber called so sharply that Dolita turned to stare. Forcing herself to sound calm, she said, “Tell me, please. How is Allegra? Do you think I could speak with her today?”
    Dolita shrugged. “I do not know. I hear other servants talking, and they say she, too, remains in her bed and eats little. But maybe Señor Valdis has told her to stay in her room. He has been very angry lately.”
    “Valdis?” Amber made no effort to hide her indignation. “What right does