The Truth-Teller's Tale (18 page)

Gregory cocked his head to one side. “Someone whose ordinary life is hard or full of trouble. That person might like to escape into someone else's personality for a while.”

That brought me to a full stop. “Adele's life is not so hard,” I said stiffly.

He shrugged. “Maybe not, but she's a Safe-Keeper. If the Safe-Keepers I'm acquainted with are any guide, Adele knows some dreadful tales, and some of them may haunt her from time to time. It would be a relief to be careless and silly now and then.”

In fact, I could not dispute this. I knew only a few stories Adele had kept secret that had later come to light in some public way, but they had been brutal enough. If she harbored many of these, her thoughts must always be hemmed about with shadows.

“You might be right,” I said grudgingly. “But I don't think that's Adele's motivation. She just likes to see what happens when things are stirred up. She's like a cat sitting on the corner of a dresser, pushing at some little china dish. Pushing it to the edge. Just to see what happens when it falls to the floor.”

Gregory grinned. “And never in your life have you pushed a china dish off the edge of the dresser.”

The kettle sent up its hysterical whistle, and I hurriedly poured a cup of hot water for Gregory. He steeped his tea and watched me with bright blue interest. Clearly, he still wanted an answer. I made a mug of tea for myself as well, and stood there sipping it as I thought the situation over.

“I think there's enough trouble in the world already without stirring up more,” I said at last. “I don't understand why things have to be so tangled. I don't understand why people go around confused, and don't ask questions, and get things muddled up. I don't understand why everyone isn't just absolutely honest all the time.”

The answer seemed to please him, though I was not sure why. As if he liked the way I saw the world, all sharp edges and simple lines. “I think the truth is that most people are afraid of absolute honesty,” he said. “They're always hoping against hope that what they know as reality in fact can be changed by pretending the world is otherwise. If they say they are rich, or handsome, or clever, perhaps those things will come true. Not many people have the strength to stand before the mirror and see themselves as they truly are.”

“I just don't see the point in deception,” I said.

“I know,” Gregory replied. “That's what I like about you.”

I gave him a keen look. I was remembering that the name he claimed was not, in fact, his own. “It is something you have some experience with, I'd wager,” I said rather dryly.

He grinned. “Oh, I do. Any man or woman who has spent some time in noble circles will tell you the same. You must always lie and flatter and swear promises you cannot possibly keep, all to make sure the queen is happy or your own political position is secure. You must make alliances with men you positively hate, and flirt with the ugliest women in the kingdom. Think of my own position! Servant to the gentry! Can you imagine any situation more bounded by deceit? ‘You dance most excellently well, my lady.' ‘Ah, your daughter is the very picture of grace.' ‘You will win the hearts of all the young men tonight, I am sure of it.' It is by charm alone that I make my way in the world—and charm, you know, is merely duplicity wrapped up in an irresistible package.”

My one experience with charm made me wholeheartedly agree with that. “Well, you needn't waste any effort trying to flatter and compliment me,” I said. “I prefer to hear the truth—in fact, I usually know when I'm being lied to.”

He toasted me with his cup of tea, now nearly empty. “I know,” he said. “I wouldn't even try.”

“You already have.”

He tilted his head, interested but hardly alarmed. “Really? When?”

“When you said your name was Gregory,” I said, and then held my breath to see his reaction.

He burst out laughing. I had not expected him to be amused; my scowl came back. “Ah, but that was before I knew you were a Truth-Teller,” he said gaily. “I would not try such tricks now.”

I waited for a moment. “Then you'll tell me your proper name, I suppose?” I asked politely.

He was still smiling. “If the occasion demands. Oh, yes, I will be perfectly forthright with you then.”

I turned away and began noisily piling dishes in the sink for washing. “I can hardly guess what occasions
you
consider to require the utmost honesty,” I said.

He came to his feet and set his cup on the counter next to me. “Well, then,” he said, “I suppose you have a great deal to learn.”

Only later did it occur to me that Gregory might be more adept at spotting the truth than speaking it. For instance, never once in the following days did he mix me up with my sister, and she tried to trick him with the same methods she used on Alexander. I don't know if, that very first evening in our house, he had memorized the slight physical differences between us or if, like the people who knew us best, he thought we were so dissimilar that he really never experienced any confusion. I did know that it was gratifying to be viewed as an individual, myself, not just one of a set of interchangeable servant girls. I did know that, false name or no, the dancing master was one of the most appealing men I'd ever met.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Two days later, Roelynn and Micah arrived to begin their private dancing lessons. At first, everything seemed wrong. Adele and I knew how to perform various country jigs, and we even had some rudimentary knowledge of the more formal dances like the minuet, but I at least felt clumsy and stupid when it came time to try most of the other complicated steps. I was used to hauling wood and shaking out wet laundry and scrubbing the stains off the good carpet; I was not used to putting my hand on a man's shoulder or setting it on his sleeve and moving my body through a precise series of movements.

Micah was exceptionally patient with me, constantly reassuring me that I had not hurt him when I crushed his toes with my heel, but that only made me feel worse. I wasn't quite sure how I had drawn Micah as a partner, anyway. Well, yes, I was. Adele, whom I had expected to link hands with Micah herself, had made certain she was standing by Alexander when the first bright notes of the music sounded. So she had been paired with Alexander; Roelynn, who had no intention of ever dancing with her brother, had turned naturally to Gregory; and that had left me to stumble through the figures with Micah.

It was just the sort of behavior I had come to think of as typical of Adele. I knew she wanted to dance with Micah. It was obvious, by the quick and hopeless looks he sent in her direction, that he wanted to dance with her. Roelynn, who had frankly told us she thought Alexander was the most handsome young man she'd ever seen, clearly would have preferred him to Gregory. And, well, I would not have minded learning some of these intricate steps while being lightly held in Gregory's arms. Thus Adele must make everything impossibly difficult by ensuring that the longed-for combinations did not occur. Another instance of pushing over the china bowl to shatter on the floor.

But I was supposed to be dancing with Micah, and so dance with Micah I would, if I could catch the knack of it. He was not particularly skilled at the pastime himself, for he was such an earnest young man, but he knew enough not to disgrace himself with titled ladies in his father's ballroom. So he corrected me in a grave voice when I missed a step, and pulled me gently in the proper direction when I tried to twirl away. When I nearly brought us both crashing into the pointed edge of the mantel, he turned his shoulder sharply into the corner and took the brunt of the impact. You would not think that learning a dance was the best field in which to come to appreciate another person's character, but in this case it was. After we had completed a half hour of clumsy dipping and swaying, I was half in love with Micah myself, just for his invariable kindness. If his other virtues were half so steadfast, he was a rare prize indeed.

“There, that was much better,” he said as our latest trial ended. “A little practice, and you'll be very good.”

“After this, you'll be well prepared to squire the rawest young girl around your father's ballroom,” I said, trying to make a joke of it. “No one can possibly step on your feet more often than I did.”

“You're so light that I hardly felt it,” he said gallantly, and we both laughed.

Roelynn pushed her dark hair back from her face and smiled at all of us. “This is so much fun,” she said. “Better than a full orchestra and a hot ballroom on a summer night.”

“Let's take a break for refreshments, and then change partners for the second half of the hour,” Gregory suggested.

I found myself interested to see what would happen when it came time to pair up again. Would Roelynn's determination outsmart Adele's subtlety? We all stood around sipping lemonade and munching on sweet cookies, and I watched as Roelynn edged toward Alexander and Adele made conversation with Gregory. I hid a smile in the yellow swirls of my drink. I would probably be poor Micah's partner for this second round as well.

“Everyone rested? Good,” Gregory said, and wound up the music box again. He set it on the mantel to play, and then calmly pushed through the small knot of dancers to take my hand. “Pair up,” he said.

Roelynn turned instantly into Alexander's arms, and Adele had no choice but to accept Micah's courtly and humble bow. I ducked my head to hide a laugh.

From the very first measures of the music, it was clear that this was the way the six of us were meant to dance.

Adele and Micah moved smoothly into the first figure of the waltz, catching each other's cues with the ease of long friendship. Her hand rested so lightly on his shoulder that I was sure her fingers did not crease the fabric, and his palm was placed at her waist with such formal correctness that he could have been dancing with the queen herself. But there was something about the way they responded to each other, something about their parallel rhythms, that made it obvious they were no strangers to embracing. Nothing in their faces gave them away. Adele did not blush or giggle. Micah's expression did not relax into a foolish grin. But they knew each other; they loved each other. I did not see how words or expressions could have made it any plainer.

“Ah,”
I heard Gregory sigh in my ear, and I knew he was seeing what I saw. But I did not respond. I merely turned my gaze to assess the other couple in the room.

Alexander and Roelynn, it appeared, had just this very instant invented the delights of dance. No silly restraint here, no pretense of indifference. They held each other rather indecently close and twirled around the room with a gait that was perilously close to romping. He gazed down at her with that alluring smile on his face, all-melting brown eyes and sensuous curved lips. She was laughing up at him with a face so pretty and so inviting that I could hardly believe he did not kiss her on the spot. She was a hoyden and he was a rogue, and it was impossible to believe either had ever had a more perfectly suited partner. They were so engrossed in each other that I was willing to believe they did not even hear the music, that they merely kept to the beat because it matched the frolicking cadence of their hearts.

“
Ah
again,” said Gregory, who apparently could always tell what I was seeing and what I was thinking without any hints from me.

“It is proving to be a most interesting dance lesson,” I said, my voice very low.

“Yes, but at least
you
were expecting it to be,” he replied, his tone as quiet as mine. “I had no idea.”

I risked a quick look up at him. He was smiling down at me, his teeth very white against the dark curls of his beard. “With Roelynn, you never know what to expect,” I said.

“But you are not surprised about your sister.”

I did not answer.

One thing did surprise me, however, and that was how immeasurably my dancing had improved once I was partnered with Gregory. Perhaps, because he was a professional, he was just much better at this particular pastime than Micah was. He knew what kind of mistakes an inexperienced girl was likely to make, and he gently guided her feet in the proper direction. Perhaps he just held me a little closer, so that it was easier for me to anticipate his actions, move left when his body moved right, dip when he wanted me to bend. Perhaps the previous half hour's practice had taught me more than I realized at the time. Perhaps—oh, perhaps I merely liked him better, wanted to please him more, and felt lighter in his arms.

Though that was ridiculous, and I had no interest in falling in love with him and inevitably breaking my heart and feeling as if I wanted to die once he and his handsome companion rode out of Merendon in a few weeks' time. So I schooled my features into a serious expression and paid closer attention to the music so that I did not miss the signal to reverse directions.

“What? Why are you frowning at me?” Gregory asked immediately.

“I'm not
frowning.
I'm concentrating.”

“It will be much easier if you merely follow my lead. No concentration required.”

“I don't know if it's possible for me to do that.”

He laughed softly. “No, I suppose not. But you're managing very well despite the fact that you're thinking about it too hard.”

“I imagine everyone dances well with you,” I said, and I could not keep the slightest note of despondency out of my voice.

He laughed again. “Now, how shall I answer that without lying?”

“Don't even try. It's obvious you're such a gifted dancer that you make every girl seem skillful in turn.”

“I've always liked to dance,” he said, releasing my hand so that we promenaded side by side for one turn around the room. When the music gave its notice, we faced each other again and I replaced my hand on his shoulder. He continued as if there had been no pause. “But I don't believe I have ever enjoyed any dance as much as this one with you.”