Sandra halted on an in drawn breath, because one of his words had just rung a warning bell in her mind. "An oath, you say? And it is intended to protect me? Then it must have been sworn to my mother."
"Please, let it go. Don't say anything more." He went to the single window and rested his hand on the latched shutter as if he would fling it wide to gulp the fresh outside air.
"Better not open that," Sandra warned. "Someone might see the candlelight and wonder who is in the servants' quarters."
Lucian could not have missed the blatant sarcasm in her words. With a muttered curse that expressed deep frustration, he left the window to kneel before her.
"Go now," he commanded. "For your own good, return to your bed and say nothing about my presence here."
Her eyes filled up again and was still trying to hold her sobs but Lucian saw this and held her in his arms, this time she did not flinch from his touch.
"Do not cry, Sandra, for I will tell you everything and you know I love you. Go to your room now. All am doing is for your good, Sandra dear, you must understand."
"I understand but what I don't understand is why will Mother tell you to swear an oath if you've been always loyal to her all this time." She sighed frustratedly.
"Sandra dear, you know your Mother has changed and she now have trust issues."
"I know but it has not gone that far. She truly has changed. I do not even know her anymore Lucian." She sniffed her nose while still sobbing quietly in Lucian arms.
"It is okay. I am not angry at her. Sandra dear, you know your mother has been through a lot and all she has done and will do is to protect you."
"I love you Lucian, don't ever hide your presence from me again."
"I love you too Sandra dear, and I won't."
"Good." Sandra stepped away from his arms. "I should go now."
"Okay, Sandra dear." Lucian said gently before opening the door for Sandra to step out and to look out if some servants had found out his presence.
When she was at the hallway she looked back to the direction of where she was coming from and smiled sadly to herself before going to her room without being caught.
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Rosalinda awakened suddenly, sitting up with her hands over her mouth to hold back a cry of alarm. Her room was cold and quilt had slipped away while she thrashed about in her sleep. Even as the dream faded from her mind, she tried to call it back so she could piece together the remnants of her too familiar nightmare. Her thoughts grappled with the impression that this time there had been something different about the dream, something she ought to remember because one particular image had been so vivid.
The same dream had tormented her for ten years. It always began with a sense of doom for, after so many years, she knew what was going to happen and knew there was nothing she could do to prevent the horror.
Once again she was a child and back in Monteferro. She had run away from her nurse and was playing a game of hide and seek, peeping into every room she came as she explored the ducal palace, and hoping the nurse would not find her. She knew she was being naughty and knew both her mother and the nurse would be annoyed with her, but she was having so much fun that she didn't care a bit what punishment they decreed when they finally located her.
Having reached the great reception room, she tiptoed inside. It was the most beautiful room in the palace and certainly the most resplendent room Rosalinda had ever seen. There were tall marble pillars and wonderful paintings in golden frames on the walls. The long windows that lined one wall were draped in a rich shade of green velvet that had the Gioliamo eagle embroiled in gold. Rosalinda's father was sitting in his chair of state, relaxing for few moments between audiences. Half a dozen of his trusted guards stood about the room. At the scuffing sound of Rosalinda's soft slippers on the polished floor, her father turned his head toward her.
"What are you doing here, little one?" He asked. It was said that Gioliamo Ricci smile could charm the birds from the air to sit on his shoulder. Certainly, his smile charmed his daughter. "Come and give your father a kiss."
Rosalinda ran forward and he swept her up in his strong arms, depositing her on his lap. His clothes were very fine, all red velvet and soft fur trimming, with a heavy silver chain hanging down across his chest. Rosalinda cuddled against him, enjoying the softness of his clothes while knowing the man himself was strong and indestructible. To Rosalinda at age five, her father was as constant as the curtains over the window in her room. After kissing him, she rubbed her little cheek against his, feeling the faint stubble on his otherwise smooth skin. Aware of the rumbling beginning deep in his throat, Rosalinda sighed with happiness and awaited the affectionate laughter she so loved to hear.
But she never did hear her father's laughter. His arms tightened around Rosalinda until they began to hurt her. Then he stood her on her feet, pushing her behind his chair with rough gesture very different from his usual treatment of her.
"Go away, Rosalinda," he said in a voice he had never used to her before. "Run to your nurse. Find your mother. Do as I tell you. Go!"
Rosalinda stumbled, catching at the back of his chair. She knew she had been naughty, but she did not understand why her father should welcome her and lift her onto his lap and hug her, and then suddenly change his mind and send her away as if he was angry. Because his order made no sense to her child's mind, she did not to obey it. Instead, she scurried across the room and ducked behind one of the green velvet curtains. Thus, she was present to hear the shouts, the clash of weapons, and her father's roar of rage.
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To Be Continued
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RED
Romance"Sweet Sandra," he said. "I want you to promise you will tell no one that you have seen me. It is vitally important that no one knows I am here." "I promise." She said at once. "But-----" "Not another word," he said. "I saw you come here...
