12. Rosalie
Chapter 12
Rosalie
R osalie hurried down the main street, surreptitiously glancing around as she tried to regulate her pace. She could no longer see the men from earlier, but it was harder to shake the creeping sensation of being watched. She suspected it would take a long time to disappear.
When she finally reached the central square, she caught sight of Daphne’s door opening. Dashing the final steps, she threw herself at her friend and grabbed one of her arms.
“Daphne, you have to come with me,” she said, desperate for a companion.
Daphne regarded her with an expression that was part suspicion, part concern. “I’ll come with you, of course, but where are we going?” Her eyes narrowed further. “It isn’t far, is it?”
Despite everything, Rosalie laughed. She had thought it would take a long time to feel normal again, but apparently her friend’s presence was enough. Very little fazed Daphne.
“Don’t worry, I’m only going to the Mortar and Pestle,” Rosalie assured her.
Daphne relaxed. “That’s all right, then.” Her brow creased. “But why are you going there? Afternoon tea and cake isn’t really your style.” She looked at her friend more closely. “Is something wrong? You look a little odd. Even for you.”
“Even for me?” Rosalie started to protest but cut herself off. “Never mind all that. I’m all right. I’m going there to find Blythe. I need…” She hesitated. “I need to ask her something.”
“You need to ask Blythe something?” Daphne’s eyebrows rose, but Rosalie didn’t explain, and Daphne didn’t press her.
Rosalie wasn’t ready to tell Daphne about being accosted by Jace—not when that would mean telling the whole tale of her brother’s sorry mess as well. Daphne would find out soon enough, but Rosalie was still trying to recover her equilibrium before facing Blythe.
“Do we have to go so fast?” Daphne complained, but Rosalie continued to propel them both forward at speed.
She couldn’t slow down. Having Daphne beside her helped, but she’d feel even better when they were off the open street. She hated knowing the eyes of Jace or his men might be on her at any moment.
They dodged a carriage leaving the inn and wove around another one arriving, finally reaching the sanctuary of the door. Rosalie thrust it open and nearly tumbled inside, out of breath.
The midday crowd inside the dining room had dispersed, but as usual there was still a smattering of clients visiting for the Mortar and Pestle’s famous cakes. A chorus of giggles drew her eyes to a particularly large cluster of people. They had pulled several small tables together, allowing Blythe to hold court at the center of the group. But while Rosalie had expected to see Blythe, she hadn’t expected the person sitting at her side.
Rosalie stood rooted to the spot, staring at Dimitri. What was he doing at the Mortar and Pestle of all places? After all her warnings, he was not only brazenly wandering around Thebarton, but he had stopped to flirt with Blythe and her friends. It was just like the first time she’d seen him in the square.
Her hands balled into fists as fresh anger swept over her. The emotion sprang up easily, already lurking just below the surface after her encounter with Jace.
Was Dimitri determined to flaunt the Legacy at every turn? Even if her words hadn’t been enough alone, he had seen Jace and his men for himself. He had to know the danger he was in. And yet here he was, leaving the castle unguarded while he wiled his time away flirting. Did he truly care so little about the people of Thebarton?
Rosalie instantly deflated. Of course he didn’t care. She had known Dimitri was ignorant and self-absorbed from the beginning. If she had briefly forgotten his true nature, that was her foolishness. She had no reason to be so disappointed at seeing him there.
The last time they had seen each other, she had allowed herself to soften toward him. His escort home had made her feel safe, and she had thanked him sincerely. While she had hoped to never see him again, she had been glad they could part with goodwill on both sides. But assuming that was their final farewell had been foolish.
Dimitri clearly had no intention of doing anything as sensible as leaving. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to weaken toward him just because his arms were strong, and his eyes danced with gold when he smiled at her.
She straightened her back, lifting her chin.
“Oh look, it’s Dimitri,” Daphne said, apparently oblivious to Rosalie’s internal turmoil. “And he’s with Blythe. Perfect.”
She tugged Rosalie in their direction. For once Rosalie was the one trailing reluctantly behind. But she couldn’t allow herself to be scared off by Dimitri’s presence.
“Rosalie!” Blythe cried in affected delight. “You came after all. And you brought Daphne as well. How lovely.” She turned to her friends. “Rosalie came by to see my parents earlier, so of course I invited her to join us.”
Rosalie stiffened, but Blythe said no more about Rosalie’s purpose at the Fosters’ home. She supposed it would have been too much to expect her not to mention it at all. As long as Blythe kept quiet about the details, it didn’t matter.
Blythe’s friends all exclaimed at her generosity and warm heart. But Blythe’s attention remained fixed on Rosalie as she gestured toward Dimitri, her smile smug.
“This is Dimitri,” she said as if they hadn’t all met in the square previously. “He’s from the manor, of course. When he dined with us, we recommended the meals here, and he wasted no time in visiting.”
She finally glanced around the rest of the group, basking in the effect of her words. Her friends all responded with the expected mixture of admiration and jealously at this indication of her apparent closeness with the manor’s heir.
Rosalie felt only exhaustion. She had no energy for unnecessary drama. In the past, she would have scorned Blythe for such obvious tactics. But her most recent interactions with her had given her fresh insight. Blythe wasn’t a heartless person, she was an insecure one. She wanted to lead the group, but she wasn’t sure she could do so on her own merits.
And Rosalie suspected the other girls weren’t as heartless as she had previously thought either. The Fosters’ fear of the Legacy had been stronger than Rosalie had expected, so maybe that was true of her old friends as well. Maybe they had once valued her friendship, after all, but their fear—or that of their parents—had proven stronger than their loyalty. After everything that had happened to her family, she could hardly blame them.
She shook her head, her eyes catching on Dimitri. Her mouth went instantly dry. He was staring at her as if he hadn’t taken his eyes from her since the moment she’d appeared. And his gaze held an intensity she hadn’t seen before. Her pulse started racing, all weariness forgotten. Apparently, her treacherous body was determined not to listen to her protestations about his character. Was it the same weakness that had led her to fall for Jace?
Daphne looked curiously between them, and Rosalie tried to ignore her. Instead, she reached for her earlier indignation, directing a glare at Dimitri.
His brow creased, his expression turning confused. Did he really not know he was at fault? How could he be so persistently oblivious?
Blythe cleared her throat ostentatiously, drawing Rosalie’s attention.
“We’ve just been discussing the improvements at the manor,” she said with a smile.
“We’re all eager to see its magnificence,” Sable added. “We’ve been telling him he has to host a gathering there soon. Don’t you both agree?”
Rosalie’s eyes flew back to Dimitri’s, horrified. He couldn’t be serious in encouraging such nonsense! There was no way he could hold a party at the castle without someone succumbing and picking a rose.
Before she could protest, however, two older couples approached. Rosalie recognized them vaguely, but their attention was on Dimitri.
“A pleasure to see you here, sir,” one of the men said, shaking Dimitri’s hand. Apparently they had already met.
The others chimed in, and Blythe swelled with importance. “Won’t you join our group?” she asked sweetly, indicating the remaining seats. “I’m sure Dimitri can be prevailed on to stay a little longer. We’ve just been telling him how everyone in town is eager to meet him.”
The man cleared his throat before murmuring, “Indeed.” After an exchange of glances, the older couples joined the group.
Rosalie tried to remember any of their names and failed. She did remember the women were sisters, but they had only moved to Thebarton six months ago, and Rosalie had been too wrapped up in her family’s daily survival to pay much attention.
All four of them looked askance at Rosalie, and she almost flinched. Were they wondering why she was standing awkwardly beside the seated group, or did they recognize her and not want to associate with her, however fleetingly?
Impatience rose inside her as she reluctantly took a seat alongside Daphne. She hadn’t come to the inn to exchange empty pleasantries with strangers. But the more people who joined the group, the more difficult it became to raise the issue of the money with Blythe. And she couldn’t just leave either—not until she found a way to get a word with Dimitri. Otherwise, he was going to catapult half the town into disaster.
She rubbed her temples. When she looked up, Dimitri was watching her, concern in his eyes. She frowned at him. He didn’t have the right to look worried about her when he was half the cause of her stress.
“We hear the manor has already come a long way,” one of the men said, rubbing his hands together. “A good thing in my opinion. Never liked having a derelict property so close to town.”
His wife nodded agreement, but the other man looked less enthusiastic.
“I hear there’s some significant power at work.” He looked at Dimitri from under thick brows. “Worth being careful.”
Dimitri finally pulled his eyes from Rosalie, nodding solemnly as he looked between the men. “I believe my family’s estate can be an asset to this region again. The Legacy is a danger, certainly, but I don’t believe it’s an insurmountable one. I intend to be cautious.”
The first man leaned back, lacing his hands over his stomach. “Fine words, sir, fine words.”
Rosalie wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. Dimitri thought he was being cautious?
“All of Thebarton was sorry to see your grandfather go.” Blythe slid her chair a little closer to Dimitri. “That was before my time, of course, but my parents have mentioned it more than once.”
She didn’t notice the way he stiffened slightly, but Rosalie did. What did Dimitri know about his grandfather’s history? Anything?
“My parents have mentioned it as well,” Rosalie said softly. “When he announced he was packing up his household and moving to the capital, both my father and grandfather tried to talk him out of it. But he has distant relations there and wanted to be near them. It was around the time I was born, I believe. My father has met with him a few times when he traveled to the capital on business, but he hasn’t been back there for over five years, so we haven’t heard any updates recently.”
Her words made both the older couples shift uncomfortably, and even some of the young women exchanged awkward looks. But Rosalie hadn’t brought up her father’s old business lightly. Dimitri had the right to know what had happened to his grandfather.
She could have done without the look he gave her in response, however. The warm glow of gratitude on his face confused her traitorous heart into strange behavior.
Her impulsive words had been motivated by compassion, but it occurred to her belatedly that if Dimitri’s grandfather was still alive, he might be a motivating factor for Dimitri to leave. She had the impression the old man couldn’t be much more than five and sixty, so there was no reason to think he wouldn’t be living in the capital still. She straightened and fixed Dimitri with a hopeful look.
But he had turned his attention back to Blythe, helping her to another slice of cake while she smiled importantly. It turned Rosalie’s stomach to see his excessive solicitude, as if he had nothing more to worry about than pretty girls and tasty food.
The rest of the group—even the older couples—responded by shifting their positions subtly, centering themselves on Blythe and Dimitri and edging Rosalie out. After everything that had happened in the last few hours, tears welled in her eyes.
She fought them back. Apparently, she was only welcome in public in Thebarton if she stayed quiet and didn’t draw attention to herself. No one liked their merry gathering spoiled by reminders of what had happened to Rosalie and her family—and what could happen to any of them.
She was only sorry Daphne was being tarred with the same brush. She glanced at her friend to check if she was equally hurt and nearly let out a watery chuckle. Daphne clearly wasn’t bothered by any of them because she had put her head on the table and gone to sleep.
A serving girl who worked for Otis came forward with a fresh tray of cake. As she walked toward them, her appearance shimmered and stuttered strangely before her legs and one arm disappeared completely. The rest of her body steadied, but Rosalie could see the dining room through the places where her missing limbs should have been. Her progress didn’t falter, however, and neither did the tray she carried with the invisible hand.
“Drat,” the girl said, frowning down at herself.
Dimitri looked up and gave a shout of surprise. Surging to his feet, he stared at her, apparently speechless.
Several of the girls burst into giggles at his response, but Rosalie shook her head. How could he be cautious with the manor when he knew so little about the Legacy? She glanced sideways at his astonished face, and her expression softened. Despite herself, she had to admit there was something endearing about his shock.
“It’s been worse than usual today,” the girl said apologetically. “Otis lost both arms a couple of hours ago, and they’re stubbornly refusing to come back. You can’t imagine how disconcerting it is. He’s already dropped two glasses because of it.”
“Otis…lost his arms?” Dimitri asked, his eyes bulging.
The giggles erupted all over again while the serving maid regarded Dimitri with concern.
“He’s quite all right, sir. His wife insisted he let her clean it up, so he didn’t cut himself on the broken glass. She hasn’t done any serving today, so she’s still perfectly visible.”
Even Blythe was looking at Dimitri oddly, and Rosalie realized no one else knew the details of his background or his ignorance of the Legacy.
“Relax,” she said. “It’s just the Legacy. Servers have a disconcerting tendency to turn partially invisible. It always rights itself eventually.”
Dimitri turned startled eyes on her while everyone else remained silent. They didn’t understand the interaction, but they didn’t want to ask questions when Rosalie was one of the speakers.
The serving girl was oblivious to it all, though.
“I once went completely invisible for a whole day!” she declared. “About a year ago it was.” She suddenly caught on to the group’s discomfort. Glancing sideways at Rosalie, she placed the tray on the table and quickly hurried away.
Rosalie winced. She knew why the Legacy’s power had been swirling through Thebarton at an increased strength a year ago. And so did everyone else at the table. Except for perhaps, Dimitri—which was precisely the problem.
“Why would the Legacy make Otis’s arms disappear?” Dimitri asked in a strangled voice.
“Because of the invisible servants from the original Beast’s castle, of course, silly.” Blythe swatted playfully at his arm. “Didn’t it ever happen to the servers where you used to live?”
Everyone looked at him expectantly, and he winced, glancing toward Rosalie and Daphne. Neither of them spoke to expose his past, though, and he shrugged.
“No, it didn’t,” he said. “I’ve never seen that before.”
“How lovely to live somewhere entirely out of the Legacy’s notice,” one of the older women said. “Although I would miss the roses.”
“You’d best get used to it now you’re here,” her husband warned Dimitri. “Any help you get up at the manor will probably spend half their lives transparent.” He and the other man guffawed, but Rosalie winced.
“Will you be hiring staff soon?” one of the women asked, clearly fishing for gossip.
“I’m not sure.” Dimitri sounded dazed, and Rosalie suspected he hadn’t given the matter a moment’s thought. With the power of the Legacy saturating the manor, he wouldn’t be feeling the lack of servants.
“You’ll need to hire someone before the party,” Sable said enthusiastically. “My mother always hires extra help when she’s hosting a large group.”
The older couples looked interested at the mention of a party, and Sable explained the plan they were attempting to foist on Dimitri. To Rosalie’s dismay, none of them expressed their disapproval of the scheme. The whole town seemed so excited by the manor’s renewal that they were determined to ignore the danger. Or did it not matter to them as long as they weren’t the ones who paid the price?
She tried to catch Dimitri’s eye, but he avoided her gaze. He had transferred his attentions from Blythe to Sable, and Blythe was pouting slightly as a result. She was still playing hostess, though, offering the older couples more cake and cutting the slices herself.
“Maybe we should leave,” Daphne murmured in Rosalie’s ear, having just woken up. “It doesn’t seem like a good moment to get a word with Blythe.”
Rosalie started. She had entirely forgotten about her original reason for coming to the Mortar and Pestle. Drat Dimitri! How could she have forgotten about her brother’s predicament, even for a moment?
“I’m sorry, I won’t be able to host any visitors for some time,” Dimitri said, bringing her attention snapping back to him. He was speaking to everyone, but he was looking at her, his expression mischievous and his eyes alight with suppressed laughter. “Rosalie might slaughter me if I did.”
Blythe choked on the sip of tea she had just taken.
“See,” he continued, gesturing toward Rosalie. “If looks could cut, I would be bleeding all over this elegant dining room.”
Everyone swiveled to look at her, and she glared at him harder.
One of the older men snorted. “The lad has a point,” he murmured to his wife.
“But whatever for?” the woman whispered back. “Why is she glaring at him like that?”
“Rosalie doesn’t want to see anyone hurt by the Legacy,” Daphne said protectively. “That garden is dangerous. I’ve been in Glandore for years now, and I’ve never seen roses like that before.”
“The inside of the manor isn’t even that impressive,” Rosalie hurried to add. “It hasn’t been affected by the Legacy nearly as much as the grounds.”
“You’ve been inside?” Blythe asked, her voice sharp.
Rosalie winced, realizing her mistake. Now they were all looking between her and Dimitri.
His brow furrowed, as if he was unhappy with her words. Did he dislike being openly associated with her? She stuffed down the hurt that tried to unfurl inside her at that thought. Considering how strongly she’d fought any connection between them, she could hardly blame him for feeling the same way.
“I’m not ready to host visitors in the usual way,” Dimitri replied to Blythe on her behalf. “But of course I stand ready to assist those who find themselves in need on the road.”
Alarm shot through Rosalie, and she tried to send him a warning with her eyes. She didn’t want Dimitri spilling the events of two days ago in such a public setting. The situation with Jace had become a great deal more complicated since then, and the last thing she needed was for it to become more complicated still.
He shot her the briefest glance, and she suspected his expression was meant to convey reassurance. She was not reassured.
But thankfully he said no more on the topic. Some of the girls were probably assuming she had faked an illness or injury to force her way in, but it was better than their being informed of the truth.
“I would love to repay your hospitality by hosting you and your parents for a meal,” he told Blythe. “But I think it would be wise if I delay having visitors until the situation has…settled.”
Blythe glowed at being singled out, while the other girls all looked disappointed. They had clearly been looking forward to the prospect of both a lavish party and a chance to poke around inside the manor.
Dimitri stood, moving some of the tea supplies to the small table in front of the older couples. He chatted quietly with them, arranging the supplies so they were within easy reach. As he did so, Blythe held court with her friends, assuring them that when she did visit the manor, she would take note of everything she saw and bring back a detailed report.
Dimitri moved with charm and ease, making it look entirely natural when, as a result of rearranging the supplies, he took a new seat. A seat beside Rosalie.
“What are you doing at an inn?” she hissed at him. One visit to town, and he was already talking about hosting people at the manor.
“I told you the Legacy isn’t providing my meals. So I came here to eat, of course.” He kept his face relaxed and his eyes on the main conversation, although she could hear the teasing note in his voice.
She made a huffing noise of frustration, and he flicked a brief glance sideways at her, his quiet voice becoming more serious.
“I’m here to protect you, Rosalie.”
Rosalie stared at him, speechless. He thought he was protecting her? From what? Attack from an unruly selection of cake slices? Scalding from hot tea?
She glanced at Daphne, ready to share her exasperation, only to find her friend had gone back to sleep. Of course she had.
Rosalie sighed. She had come here to ask for the money Blythe had offered—preferably without revealing too much to Blythe’s friends. And she still needed to find an opportunity to do that. But it was difficult to think with Dimitri so close.
He was so very…tall. Yes, he was tall and solid and far too commanding a presence. He pulled people toward him when what he needed to do was to keep them all away.
Jace had drawn people to him too. Rosalie squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think of Jace. She was balanced precariously in the grip of too many strong emotions, and if she didn’t hold herself carefully, she would be lost into the abyss.
Clearly Daphne was right, and it wasn’t the moment to talk to Blythe. That meant she should focus on Dimitri.
She had tried to be subtle so as not to provoke Blythe and had already failed. Dimitri was doing a better job, though. It didn’t look like anyone had noticed their side conversation. Perhaps he didn’t want to ruffle his flirtation with Blythe by being seen talking to Rosalie.
Fresh irritation swept through her, washing away her sense of caution.
“Do you really mean to ignore all my warnings?” she asked heatedly, her voice at normal volume. “Even after everything that’s happened?” She gave him a significant look.
“I’m not ignoring your warnings,” he protested. “I’m here to?—”
“Do not say you’re here to protect me,” Rosalie hissed through her teeth.
Dimitri frowned, his eyes jumping from her face to the rest of the group. She followed his gaze and instantly flushed. The main conversation had died, and everyone was staring at the two of them.
Dimitri immediately rose to his feet, smiling at the gathered company before gazing at her with impersonal concern.
“I’m sorry to hear you’re feeling so weary, Mistress Rosalie. I would be happy to see you safely back to your family.”
She blinked at him in stupefaction. She wasn’t entirely sure which of them had lost touch with reality.
Blythe looked uneasily between them before focusing her gaze on Rosalie. “If you’re not feeling well, Rosalie, I’d be happy to walk with you.”
She glanced at Sable who quickly echoed the sentiment.
Dimitri took Blythe’s hand and bowed over it. “You are gracious as always.” He looked up at her with laughing eyes, and she snatched her hand away with a giggle. “But I won’t have any of you tiring yourselves out. Since my home is located in the same direction as Mistress Rosalie’s, it won’t be out of my way at all.”
He moved swiftly, guiding Rosalie to her feet in one smooth movement, and placing a hand on the small of her back. Before either she or Blythe could protest, he had her halfway out of the dining room.
Rosalie glanced over her shoulder as he propelled her forward. Despite his quick action, Blythe had also stood and looked as if she meant to follow after them. Her attempt was thwarted, however, by Daphne, who had woken up just in time to throw herself into Blythe’s arms in a fit of tears.
Rosalie narrowed her eyes. Once again, Daphne had woken from her apparent nap at an awfully convenient time. But when Rosalie caught the look of horror on Blythe’s face, she couldn’t help laughing silently as she was swept out of the room. She had no idea what excuse Daphne would use for her sudden devastation, but her friend was surprisingly resourceful for someone who spent so much time asleep.
As soon as they were out of the dining hall, she opened her mouth to chastise Dimitri. But before she could do so, he made a sudden turn, propelling her with him so abruptly that she lost her breath. By the time she had caught both her breath and her bearings, her back was against the wall in a dark recess at the far end of the inn’s corridor.
Dimitri lingered outside the recess, peering up and down to make certain there was no one within earshot. But she only managed one breath before he stepped in with her, apparently satisfied they were alone.
Rosalie’s breath caught, her eyes widening as she found herself face to face with him inside the small space. He stilled, his eyes locked on hers, and the same surprise showing on his face as she felt on hers.
A band constricted around Rosalie’s chest. For the second time that afternoon, she found herself in unexpected proximity with a young man’s handsome face. But Jace had invaded her space on purpose, and it had felt exactly like the unwelcome invasion it was. Being close to him had evoked fear, repulsion, and anger.
Dimitri, however, seemed as surprised as she was to find their faces only inches apart in the small, dark space. And his presence made her feel…
Her heartbeat rose to a staggering crescendo as she tried to complete the thought. What, exactly, did such close proximity to Dimitri make her feel? She could sense his warmth—although they weren’t actually touching—and the earlier intensity had returned to his gaze. Against her will, her eyes dropped to his mouth, positioned just above hers.
The emotions within her whirled, the tangled mix of the last few days almost overwhelming her. The traumatic encounters with Jace twined together with the sense of safety and strength she had felt when Dimitri carried her in his arms.
She was teetering on the edge of losing control entirely. And she had no idea what she would do if that happened. Slap him? Kiss him? Run away crying? Each possibility was more horrifying than the last.
With extreme self-control, she forced her eyes to focus on his. As soon as she did, he spoke.
“What’s wrong, Rosalie? Something’s been bothering you since you walked in the door.”