Thorns of Decision (Dusk Gate Chronicles) (35 page)

His face was red now, and there was a definite look of guilt in his eyes. He was silent for several minutes, watching her closely as she tried to calm herself, by taking deep breaths.

She raised her eyebrow, and he finally spoke. “I don’t know if I can even answer that question and be fair to you, Quinn. I’m trying to be as honest as I can here, but I’m not a neutral party in this. The Maker knows I’ve tried, I’ve done my best to sit back, to stay out of your way so that in the end the decision you make is really yours. But I have a stake in this. And I’ve already interfered more than it was my right to.”

“Interfered
how?
You’re not the one who told me any of this, you’re kept it from me as much as anyone.”

Stephen looked down at the floor, avoiding eye contact with her, and cold trickles of fear seeped into her chest.

“I interfered with your mother, even against your father’s wishes, prohibiting her from taking you out of Bristlecone.”

She nodded – she’d known about that, but she had a niggling feeling that that wasn’t all he was talking about.

“But at least that helped Nathaniel to be able to know you, and left the door open to your making your own choices eventually. And, honestly, I never fully agreed with Samuel’s decision to keep everything from you. The much bigger interference of course, the one that crossed the line, really – that I sacrificed my own son’s choices for – was when I sent William to Bristlecone to be near you.”

Quinn’s blood turned to ice in her veins. “You did that because of
me?
Not for him to study medicine?”

“That
was
a big reason, and it’s certainly the only reason
he
ever knew about. But no. We could have found other ways for him to gain that knowledge here, maybe not as in-depth, but I’m not sure we could have brought ourselves to let him go there at such a young age for that reason alone.”

“But why? Why would you send William to be near me? I never really even
knew
him in Bristlecone.”

Stephen sighed. “It’s complicated, Quinn.”

A sudden flash of intuition nearly knocked her out of her chair. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? I’d meet William, find the gate, and learn about my real world ... and then what, Stephen? I fulfill this prophecy you claim not to care about? I marry your son and take over the Philothean throne, re-unite the kingdoms?”

Stephen wouldn’t make eye contact with her; his face grew even redder, and she felt her muscles constrict in rage. “Are you serious?” she asked in a low, cold voice.

“I told you I’m not a neutral party. And I’m human. I don’t always make the choices that are the right ones. I know I shouldn’t have. That my only responsibility was to wait on the Maker. I justified it by telling myself I wasn’t actually forcing anyone to make a certain choice. But I did stack the deck, yes.”

“You ‘stacked the deck.’ Like a
card game?
So it’s some kind of a game to you? My
life?
William’s life?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down twice before he managed to choke out an answer. “No, it isn’t a game. But it is what I did.” He stared out the window now, still avoiding looking directly at her.

“Are you apologizing?” she asked.

He finally looked at her, with an expression she couldn’t begin to understand. “I don’t know if I’m sorry.”

*         *         *

Quinn stormed out of the castle, her heart racing, and tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn’t remember ever having been so angry before in her life. Everything – her whole life, the time she’d spend in Eirentheos, her relationship with William – had all been a set-up. Something planned by someone else.

She thought about going and getting Dusk, or about heading back into the woods where William had taken her this morning, but she knew she would have to deal with servants in the stable or the guard at the gatehouse to get to either of those places, and she couldn’t do that in her current state. So instead, she retreated to the farthest corner of the castle gardens, well past the gazebo and the flower beds, and she found a small stone bench near a wall.

Though she’d been crying already, as soon as she collapsed onto the bench, the sobbing began in earnest. Past rational already, her thoughts became a soundless, incoherent blur, as she cried and cried until she ran out of tears. Or at least she thought she had, because when she’d finally stopped, she pulled the handkerchief out of her pocket, and when she saw William’s initials embroidered in the corner, a fresh stream started.

Eventually, though, she really did cry herself out, and she sat there on the bench, feeling too drained to think anymore, too numb to move, and she just stared at the neatly-trimmed bushes a few feet away from her.

She almost jumped out of her skin when one of them moved.

Quinn stared at the bush, trying to figure out what she had seen. It had only barely quivered, and she’d almost decided that it had just been a small animal stirring inside, when she suddenly saw a small pair of brown-leather mary jane shoes poking out at the bottom.

She sighed, wondering how long Alice had been sitting over there. Wiping her eyes one more time, and blowing her nose before stuffing the handkerchief back into her pocket, Quinn stood and walked around the large bush.

The little girl was sitting there on a tree stump ringed with flowers, a large notebook in her lap, and a pouch of colored pencils open beside her. She didn’t look up until Quinn was standing directly in front of her.

“Hi Quinn,” she said, before looking down again to exchange a blue colored pencil for a green one.

Quinn raised an eyebrow. “How long have you been out here, Alice?”

“I don’t know,” Alice answered, beginning to fill in some of the leaves she’d traced. Quinn recognized the bush in her drawing. “I can’t tell time yet.”

Her answer made Quinn chuckle. Alice’s eyes met Quinn’s. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, sweetheart. I’m fine.”

“Why were you crying?”

Quinn swallowed. “You saw that?”

Alice nodded. “I saw you were crying when you were going outside.”

“You’ve been out here the whole time?” She was startled.

“Yes.” Now the green pencil went carefully back into the pouch and a pink one came out. Apparently undisturbed, Alice began sketching out the pink flowers that dotted the base of the bush.

“Isn’t somebody going to be wondering where you are?”

Alice looked up at her again. “I told Emma I was going outside with you. I’m sure she told someone.”

Quinn closed her eyes. If she’d told Emma, then surely everyone in the castle knew the little girl was with her by now. “How old are you now, Alice? Four?”

“Five,” the little girl said, without looking up from her drawing. “I had my birthday when you were gone.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.”

Alice looked up at her, all wide gray eyes behind her glasses. “Maybe you can come to the next one.”

Quinn smiled, lowering herself down onto her knees in front of the tree stump. “Maybe I will, Alice. I would like that very much.”

“You’re going to William’s birthday party, aren’t you?”

“Sure I am.”

Alice’s eyes penetrated hers now, with a depth that surprised her. “William really missed you when you were gone, you know.”

“I know. I missed him, too.”

“He was scared you might not come back.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, he just looked worried when he talked about it. But I told him you would come back and go to his birthday. And you did.” A tiny smile appeared on her serious little face.

“You were right.” Quinn had to swallow down the hot sensation that rose in her throat at the image of William looking worried as he talked to his little sister.

“Emma says he loves you.”

Heat flooded her cheeks.

“But I told Emma it’s none of her business.”

“Emma thinks everything is her business,” Quinn chuckled thinking of spunky little Emma, who reminded her of a boisterous combination of Thomas and Linnea.

There was a little twinkle in Alice’s eye. “So does Linnea.”

Quinn couldn’t help giggling. “You’re right, she does.”

The pink pencil went back to work, meticulously shading the petals of the flowers. “I think you love William, too, Quinn.”

Quinn swallowed hard, her eyes sweeping over the little girl, so intense, sitting with her legs curled up beside her, the skirt to her blue dress smoothed neatly over them. “I definitely love you, Alice,” she said, kissing her on the top of her head.

“I love you, too, Quinn.”

*          *          *

After her conversation with Alice, Quinn took the little girl back upstairs in the castle. She was calmer now, but needed time to process what had just happened. She sincerely hoped that her bedroom was empty – as much as she loved both Thomas and Linnea, she wasn’t prepared to deal with them again right now. What she wanted was a hot bath with lavender and vanilla oil.

But, although there was no sign of Thomas or Linnea in the upstairs wing, when she reached her room, it wasn’t empty.

“Is everything all right, Lady Quinn?” Mia looked up from where she was putting neatly folded clothes into the armoire.

“I’m okay, Mia,” she answered, knowing that her blotchy face gave her away. “How are you?” she asked, trying to shift the conversation.

“I’m well. I’m just trying to catch up on some tasks I’ve gotten behind on.”

“You’ve been a little busy lately, haven’t you?” she asked wryly. Mia had been spending
a lot
of time with Thomas.

A splash of pink colored the girl’s cheeks, but she met Quinn’s gaze. “As have you, Lady Quinn. How are things with William?”

Touché.
The fact that the sweet maid seemed to have caught Thomas’ eye should have alerted Quinn to the likelihood that there was more spunk hidden under Mia’s quiet demeanor than she had guessed.

It had always been almost too easy to talk to Mia, though. “I don’t know,” she found herself saying. “Things have been really wonderful – until I think I messed them up today.”

Mia raised an eyebrow. “This is about William asking if the two of you could make your courtship official?”

Quinn swallowed hard, but nodded. “Except he didn’t ask.”

“Do you really think he didn’t ask because he’d changed his mind about it?”

She blinked. That possibility sounded a lot more absurd coming out of Mia’s mouth than it had swirling around inside her mind, all muddled up with her insecurities. “No. He probably didn’t ask because he was afraid I’d be upset or that I’d think he was pushing me.”

Mia’s bright green eyes were gentle and sympathetic. “I don’t think you’ve ‘messed things up,’ Lady Quinn. I think that you and Master William are both doing the best you can in a complicated situation.”

Something in Mia’s voice caught Quinn off-guard. She frowned, scrutinizing Mia’s expression, suddenly realizing that Mia knew more than she should have. Possibly far more, but Quinn decided to start with the most simple issue first. “How do you know what happened with William and I this afternoon already? Thomas and Linnea haven’t come back up yet.”