The Shape-Changer's Wife by Sharon Shinn Page B

“My dear,” he said, helping Lilith alight. “Let us break our journey here for the night. Ah, Aubrey. And how have you enjoyed the trip so far?”
    â€œAs well as might be expected,” Aubrey said, answering in some confusion. He had turned to watch the coachman scuffle off in an obvious daze. “Sir, what did you—that man, he changed his mind so suddenly—”
    Glyrenden laughed lightly and pulled Lilith’s valise from the roof of the coach. “Just my persuasive powers,” he said. “Nothing to worry about. You must be hungry. Let’s go inside and eat.”
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    AUBREY SLEPT DEEPLY that night, waking bewildered to the unfamiliar sunshine. He could scarcely remember the last time this had awakened him, although surely there had been plenty of sunlit days since he had begun sleeping at Glyrenden’s dark and silent fortress. He hurriedly washed and dressed, not wanting to be left behind by an impatient master.
    The journey resumed, and passed, much as it had the day before. By nightfall, Aubrey was heartily sick of the interminable forested highway, the ceaseless rocking of the coach, and the stern unapproachability of his companion. The few times he tried to make conversation with her, Lilith was monosyllabic or, at times, silent. Aubrey eventually gave up.
    Then they turned from the highway to a country road, and from that to a private drive, and Aubrey forgot Lilith for a moment. The palatial Rochester estate was visible from half a mile away, and it was magnificent.
    The main body of the house was four stories high, built of a cool gray marble that, under the moonlight, appeared to be burnished smooth. Turrets rose from the four compass points of the roof; flags flew from each small tower, whipping briskly in the breeze. Every window facing the drive was ablaze with candlelight; the massive front doors, thrown open to admit new arrivals, spilled yellow lamplight twenty yards down the manicured lawn. Even from this distance, a faint hum of music and laughter drifted out; shadows and colors threw patterns against the sheer curtains in almost every room. The harvest holiday celebrations, it would appear, were already under way.
    â€œLight, music and gaiety,” Aubrey said, forgetting that Lilith was not speaking to him. “Don’t they lift your heart?”
    She actually looked over at him, although her face was hard to see in the dark. “You are glad to be here,” she said.
    â€œI am,” he admitted. “I’ve always been a sociable man. I forget how much I’ve missed the companionship of others.”
    â€œYou have been with us too long,” she said. “We are not much company.”
    â€œThat’s not what I meant,” he said swiftly.
    â€œNonetheless, it is true. Perhaps it is time you left us.”
    â€œNo,” he said, without pausing to think about it. “I couldn’t leave yet.”
    â€œYou still have so much to learn about Glyrenden?”
    â€œFrom Glyrenden,” he corrected.
    â€œNothing worth learning,” she said.
    â€œYou know nothing about it,” he retorted, smiling a little.
    â€œMore than you think,” she said.
    â€œI am not ready to leave yet,” he said again.
    She gestured at the Rochester mansion, so close now they could not see the turrets or the upper stories from the coach. “Even when you see a place like this and you remember?”
    â€œRemember what?”
    â€œWhat other people are like. People who are not—strange, like we are. Ordinary men and women.”
    He had never heard her talk this way. Until the day they had quarreled over her new gowns, he had not thought she realized how different she was from other women. “You speak as if you want me to leave,” he said.
    â€œIt might be better if you did,” she said.
    â€œBetter?” he echoed. He was by now totally bewildered, and any minute the coach would