“Good.” He pushes some rocks around with the toe of his boot. “If there's anything else you'd like to ask me or do with me, I could fix that, too.”
For some reason, the statement makes my face hot. There's nothing for us to do together until we marry and that's not a part of my life I want to contemplate. “Like what?”
He gestures at nothing. “Anything.”
“What did you do with your other fiancee?”
An unhappy chuckle snorts from him. “She's not like you.” I try not to bristle as he gets a faraway look in his eyes. “We danced at balls, had dinner together with our families, had tea together with our mothers. Talked. That sort of thing.”
So the dancing thing is one of them, and he has met my family and talked to them. “We haven't danced at a ball, but how's the rest any different?”
“She's just—”
“Serena,” Cynthia calls out, interrupting our conversation before I can learn how his fiancee is better than me. I'm not sure if I want to know more about her anyway. Zade seems more attached to her than I thought and it makes my insides give an odd twist.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Feeling resentful, I watch Cynthia round a hedge, her chocolate-colored dress trailing behind her, a matching set of jewelry with it. “There you are. Father's carriage is coming down the lane.”
The resentment is replaced by excitement. “He sent word that Bethany's joining us.”
“He's letting her come? Why aren't we out there yet?”
She races back to the house. I follow her as fast as my legs will let me without running. Chancellor Zade strides ahead and opens the door for us. Once inside, we follow him through the halls to the entryway where he once again holds the door open for us.
I rush outside, then remember myself and take the last few steps at a more sedate pace. Cynthia dashes all the way to the carriage. I suppose I should just be grateful she came and found me before running out.
At the bottom of the steps, I wait. The Chancellor must have decided to wait inside or went to do some work because he doesn't follow. A footman opens the carriage doors. Bethany emerges looking as if she's grown since I last saw her. Her dark-blonde hair is pulled back away from her face showing off her sparkling green eyes and innocent face. She smiles as Cynthia launches into a narrative of our dealings. At one point Bethany nods, but Cynthia doesn't stop long enough for her to do any more.
Finally, Bethany gestures to the house and the girls walk toward me. Every bit of lightness is instantly gone. My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. I want to cry, but hold it in and let myself seethe. Bethany is limping.
Any accident would have been healed already. Father punished her and thought the crime warranted natural healing. But she's never been rebellious or as outspoken as me. I can't imagine her doing anything to cause such punishment. Maybe it's meant as a reminder to me. Breakfast sours in my stomach. I can't get away from him even here. I'll always be owned and I or someone I love will suffer because of it.
I think back to the letter he sent. It implied that the Chancellor has been punishing me, so maybe I really have nothing to do with why she's been hurt. Besides, Father's never hurt one of us to teach another. Though he did threaten to if I wouldn't drink the tea, but I'm sure it's only because he knew it would work. I don't know if he thinks it would be an effective punishment for me or not.
Bethany manages a smile when she reaches me, but her eyes are tight with pain. She's hurting worse than she'd like us to know. Cynthia falls silent.
“Hello, Serena.”
“Bethany.” I try to pour all of my love for her in that one word. “Welcome to the Chancellor's house.”
Her gaze travels over the manor behind me. “It's huge. I wonder how many times Father's would fit inside it?”
“About seven and a half,” Cynthia says. We both look at her. “What? I know I shouldn't have, but I was curious as well.”
Bethany giggles, but it doesn't last long. I'm hurt, angry, sad for her too much to bother with more than half a smile. She still has to get up the stairs to the house then there's all the stairs to her chamber. Even with servants help, she'll hurt too much. It won't do.
Bethany says, “I'm excited to see the room we'll share. If the outside is like this, I can't imagine how big it is inside.”
“There's absolutely no sharing involved,” Cynthia says. “Serena wouldn't let me, even when I tried.”
“How do you manage to sleep without an elbow in your ribs?”
“It's easier to overcome than you might think,” I say. “Cynthia, would you mind taking Bethany to the parlor? A little refreshment would be good before setting her loose on the place.”
Bethany glances at me as if she knows I'm trying to help ease her pain, but doesn't say a word.
“Certainly,” Cynthia says. “Cook makes the most wonderful treats.”