an arm around Anastasia’s waist, then pressed a hand to her forehead. “Gracious, you are burning up. Come into the house. We’ll get you out of these clothes.”
“I want you to help me, Maman,” Anastasia said, her voice suddenly small and pleading like a child’s. “I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. Not anyone.”
“But of course I will help you,” her mother said. Without another word, she led Anastasia into the house.
Raoul stood beside Anastasia’s horse, his eyes gazing straightforward at nothing. I came down the steps till I stood at his side.
“Would you like me to help rub down the horses?” I asked.
Raoul gave a start. “What?”
“Would you like me to help with the horses?” I said once more, even as I saw something hot and furious flash into Raoul’s eyes. By way of answer, He took two steps, hauled me up against him, and pressed his lips to mine.
Raoul’s lips felt just as his eyes looked, desperate, angry, wild. His arm around my waist felt like a band of solid iron. I felt the world do two entirely contradictory things at once. Explode wide open. Narrow down. I felt the way Raoul’s heart thundered in his chest, heard the echo of its rhythm in my own. And suddenly I understood the sound that it was making.
No,
my heart said, even as it pounded more furious than it ever had before.
Not this. Not him. Not this. No. No. No.
I made a sound, and Raoul let me go.
We stood for a moment, staring at each other, while the wind explored the corners of the courtyard.
“Oh, damn,” Raoul said suddenly. “I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I? I’m sorry, Cendrillon.”
I made a second sound now. A strange combination of outrage and laughter.
“You’re
sorry?”
I cried. “You kiss me out of the blue and then stand there and tell me that you’re sorry? How can you possibly be such a dolt?”
Raoul’s face clouded. Seizing the mare’s reins, He began to turn her around. “Fine. You don’t want an apology, I’ll save my breath.”
I planted myself in front of him. “You even think about taking another step,” I said, “and I swear on my mother’s grave I’ll break your arm. I don’t want an apology, Raoul. What I want is an explanation.”
Raoul dropped the reins, put his hands on his hips. “I was trying,” He said succinctly, “to avoid a broken heart.”
I felt all my exasperation evaporate as suddenly as it had come upon me. “Oh,” I said, and somehow, it didn’t sound foolish at all. “Anastasia,” I said. “It’s Anastasia, isn’t it?”
Love at first sight,
I thought. I wondered why I hadn’t recognized the signs for what they were before now.
They had been there in the tight silences between Raoul and Anastasia whenever they met, the compressed lips, the quick glances from the corners oftheir eyes. Not all love is joyful, particularly when it seems hopeless. She was a noble-born lady, and proud of it. Raoul was a country stable boy.
“What it is,” Raoul declared now, as he picked up the reins once more and began to lead the horses into the barn, “is absolutely impossible.”
“So it is Anastasia, then,” I said. I followed Raoul into the barn. Together, we undid straps, pulled off saddles, began to rub the horses down, working in silence as we had so often before. But this silence was different, as if the memory of the kiss we’d shared still hovered in the air between us. The knowledge of all the things it had been, and the things that it had not.
I suppose every girl wonders who her true love will be. Will it be some handsome stranger, or the boy next door? I can’t precisely claim I had dreamed of falling in love with Raoul, but I would be a liar if I said the possibility had never crossed my mind.
I took the curry brush from its place and began to brush the coat of the mare Anastasia had ridden to a rich and glossy shine.
“How long have you known?”
Raoul remained silent just long enough that I thought
“I want you to help me, Maman,” Anastasia said, her voice suddenly small and pleading like a child’s. “I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else. Not anyone.”
“But of course I will help you,” her mother said. Without another word, she led Anastasia into the house.
Raoul stood beside Anastasia’s horse, his eyes gazing straightforward at nothing. I came down the steps till I stood at his side.
“Would you like me to help rub down the horses?” I asked.
Raoul gave a start. “What?”
“Would you like me to help with the horses?” I said once more, even as I saw something hot and furious flash into Raoul’s eyes. By way of answer, He took two steps, hauled me up against him, and pressed his lips to mine.
Raoul’s lips felt just as his eyes looked, desperate, angry, wild. His arm around my waist felt like a band of solid iron. I felt the world do two entirely contradictory things at once. Explode wide open. Narrow down. I felt the way Raoul’s heart thundered in his chest, heard the echo of its rhythm in my own. And suddenly I understood the sound that it was making.
No,
my heart said, even as it pounded more furious than it ever had before.
Not this. Not him. Not this. No. No. No.
I made a sound, and Raoul let me go.
We stood for a moment, staring at each other, while the wind explored the corners of the courtyard.
“Oh, damn,” Raoul said suddenly. “I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I? I’m sorry, Cendrillon.”
I made a second sound now. A strange combination of outrage and laughter.
“You’re
sorry?”
I cried. “You kiss me out of the blue and then stand there and tell me that you’re sorry? How can you possibly be such a dolt?”
Raoul’s face clouded. Seizing the mare’s reins, He began to turn her around. “Fine. You don’t want an apology, I’ll save my breath.”
I planted myself in front of him. “You even think about taking another step,” I said, “and I swear on my mother’s grave I’ll break your arm. I don’t want an apology, Raoul. What I want is an explanation.”
Raoul dropped the reins, put his hands on his hips. “I was trying,” He said succinctly, “to avoid a broken heart.”
I felt all my exasperation evaporate as suddenly as it had come upon me. “Oh,” I said, and somehow, it didn’t sound foolish at all. “Anastasia,” I said. “It’s Anastasia, isn’t it?”
Love at first sight,
I thought. I wondered why I hadn’t recognized the signs for what they were before now.
They had been there in the tight silences between Raoul and Anastasia whenever they met, the compressed lips, the quick glances from the corners oftheir eyes. Not all love is joyful, particularly when it seems hopeless. She was a noble-born lady, and proud of it. Raoul was a country stable boy.
“What it is,” Raoul declared now, as he picked up the reins once more and began to lead the horses into the barn, “is absolutely impossible.”
“So it is Anastasia, then,” I said. I followed Raoul into the barn. Together, we undid straps, pulled off saddles, began to rub the horses down, working in silence as we had so often before. But this silence was different, as if the memory of the kiss we’d shared still hovered in the air between us. The knowledge of all the things it had been, and the things that it had not.
I suppose every girl wonders who her true love will be. Will it be some handsome stranger, or the boy next door? I can’t precisely claim I had dreamed of falling in love with Raoul, but I would be a liar if I said the possibility had never crossed my mind.
I took the curry brush from its place and began to brush the coat of the mare Anastasia had ridden to a rich and glossy shine.
“How long have you known?”
Raoul remained silent just long enough that I thought
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