The Secret Rose Read Free Page B

the golden brown depths of her eyes, he had seen strength and courage, a determination more powerful than his own. He had not bested her; he had only made her hate him.
    A shadow passed before the sun, casting the Great Half in shadow, and Quenton shuddered. Someone had stepped on his grave.
    Quickly he tipped the silver flask to his lips and drained it.
    *
    “If the twelve Apostles in heaven came down asking me to say a single kindly word about Himself, I could nae give them satisfaction!” Nuala muttered as she bathed the long red welts on Aisleen’s exposed back. “The devil knows what’s to become of us! Skelping bairns with a great ugly belt ’til they bleed! May the devil choke him!”
    Aisleen lowered her head onto her crossed arms on the table, tears running down her face. Her arms and back stung horribly, but she did not whimper as Nuala applied a cool lard and laurel-leaf poultice to her skin. The effects of the beating would heal, she told herself. Yet the wounds caused by her father’s words gaped wider with every heartbeat. If Liscarrol was lost, forever and ever future generations of Fitzgeralds would remember the name of Aisleen Fitzgerald with a mutter and a curse.
    She squeezed her eyes shut to prevent more tears. Was there nothing she could do to change that? She was not the son her father desired. She was not the obedient daughter he demanded. Worst of all, she was not the magical creature he needed. Because of her lack, was she doomed to dishonor and shame? “Do you believe in magic, Nuala?”
    Nuala’s brow rose halfway up her forehead. “Now why would ye be asking such a question?”
    “Da believes,” she said very softly.
    Nuala exchanged enlightened glances with Alvy. “Poteen’s addled him, that’s what!” she said. “Ye’re to keep shy of yer da these next days. Alvy and me will be making a place for ye at our cottage. Aye, that’ll serve.”
    Aisleen lifted her head. “I cannot. I’m going away.”
    “Of course ye are,” Nuala agreed, “and never soon enough, I’m thinking. Meanwhile I’ll be having a word with yer ma about ye stopping with us.” She winked. “On account of ye come down with the ague and her so great with child.”
    Aisleen shook her head. “Da’s sending me away. To England.”
    Nuala’s hearth-reddened complexion blanched. “Away? To great bloody England? The man’s that mad!”
    Aisleen’s dark-honey eyes shone with tears, but her voice was calm. “You’re not to tell Ma. He might hurt her if she pleaded for me.”
    Nuala balked. “I’d like to see Himself raise a hand to the lady of the house!” Instantly, she realized what she was saying, and her eyes slipped from Aisleen’s. “Oh, the Lord save us!”
    “Can I go now?” Aisleen asked as she pulled up the shoulders of her gown.
    “And where would ye be going?” Nuala asked suspiciously.
    “Down to the river,” Aisleen answered. “I like dangling my feet in the coolness.”
    “Stay away from the castle!” Nuala called as the girl slipped out the door. “’Tis a queer business, that,” she said to Alvy. “And Himself as drunk as any lord before the sun’s good and proper in the sky. Magic, is it, he’s thinking about? Himself should steer clear of the doings of the Sidhe . If ’tis true and the lass is one of their own, they won’t take kindly to the morning’s business. Mark me words, Alvy, dark times ahead! And nae just the bairn will suffer!”
    *
    A week later, Aisleen lay in the tall grasses which shielded her from view and chewed a spearmint leaf she had plucked from the herb garden by the kitchen door. The sharp tang of it tickled her tongue as she lazily dragged her toes in the bracing water. She did not think about the fact that she was crushing the new velvet gown her father had bought especially for her journey to the Gilliams. She did not think about the grass stains that were seeping into the white silk stockings she had cast aside. Nor did she care that her