Page 104 of Waking Roslyn

I stepped up to one of the other guards. “Do we have any further information about who delivered the flowers?”

He shook his head. “The butler said that every arrangement was delivered by a different messenger, none of whom he recognized. He couldn’t remember who specifically dropped off any particular arrangement, and no one had looked or acted suspiciously.

I pulled my hand over my face, wishing I could hit something.

A hand touched my elbow, and I turned to see the duchess beside me. Her attempted smile was bleak and watery. “Would you carry Roslyn upstairs? She trusted you the most.”

Her simple request and explanation made my eyes burn. “Of course, Your Grace.”

Everyone else stepped back, giving me room to carefully push my arms beneath her shoulders and knees, lifting her into my arms.

I swallowed hard as I turned to follow her mother out the door. Roslyn was thin and light, but the dead weight of her was heavy because of what it meant.

Three days. So long as she woke in the next three days, everything might be fine.

I was glad for the hope the doctor had offered, yet it was such a thin tendril. I knew that hope could snap at any moment. Nothing was sure.

23

John

Her Grace and Everly situated Rose in her bed. Multiple layers covered her from the waist down, but only a thin blanket covered her upper torso. We had to be able to see the rise and fall of her chest; otherwise we had no way of knowing if she was still alive or not.

I stood against the wall, unable to help in any way, but I refused to leave. I expected someone to throw me out at any moment, but it seemed since I’d arrived with Roslyn and she’d insisted I stay, no one saw me as an intruder. I belonged here, watching over her. So I did just that.

I’d never been more grateful that I’d positioned myself as Roslyn’s guard than I was now. Now that she was lying deathly still upon a bed, her face unnaturally pale.

If I had turned up as a footman or anything else, they never would have let me stay close to her. But as it was, my overprotectiveness made perfect sense since all they knew was that my job was to protect her.

Her parents and the servants discussed whether to stoke the fire higher in her room. Was she warm enough? Too warm? They whispered their questions to each other, like they were scared she’d wake up. Funny, since that was exactly what we wanted.

I blocked out most of the noise since there was already too much noise rattling in my own head. My thoughts were screaming. I kept running through every move I’d made, and questioned every decision I’d made. This was my fault. How could it not be? My thoughts kept swinging back and forth between being furious with her parents for insisting she come back in the first place and being furious with myself for not being vigilant enough. When all the flowers had started arriving, I’d been so distracted with my own jealousy that I had missed the danger. My ego had been wounded by the idea that so many worthier candidates were now vying for her attention that I hadn’t seen past that to the obvious. I’d spent enough time around Rowan and his family’s herbs to know that plants could hurt as much as they could heal.

So why hadn’t I seen it? Why hadn’t I seen it? Roslyn had trusted me to take care of her, and I’d failed. And why hadn’t Roslyn noticed the powder? She loved roses in every variety. Why hadn’t she noticed they looked different?

Because of me. That’s why. I’d been distracting her with my flirting.

Selfish. Selfish. Selfish.

I stood at attention as servants filtered in and out, as her parents debated and cried together and yelled at each other because of their grief. I watched when the doctor came in to check on her and said that nothing had changed and there was nothing to do.

The whole day passed that way. A servant brought me food at one point and I only ate it because I knew not eating would make me weak, and I refused to be weak. For Roslyn, I would eat. For Roslyn I would stay strong.

The shadows and sunlight moved through the room, making slanted patterns on her bed and hurting my eyes that were dry from all the staring.

Someone brought me a chair. I sat. Then I stood and let myself pace. Movement was important. If I let my body stagnate, that would impede my ability to defend. Defend against what though? She was already hurt. Still, I paced. I stood. I sat.

The sun went down. They lit candles and stoked the fire. The doctor came in, checked her breathing, and asked that a small bowl of broth be sent up. He and the duchess worked together to sit Roslyn up and then slipped tiny sips of broth into her mouth. They waited between each spoonful, watching her throat to see if she swallowed.

“If she ever gags or coughs on the liquid, we will have to stop giving it to her. This must be done with the utmost care and patience, else we could cause more harm than good.”

I was grateful for his stern warning, and after only five spoonfuls, the doctor declared it enough and they tucked Roslyn back under the covers.

When the duchess decided that Roslyn should be changed into proper nightclothes, I left the room for the first time since carrying her here. If it had been anyone else taking care of her, I wouldn’t have gone. The duke and duchess were the only people in this castle that I fully trusted. I took those few minutes to walk off some of my frustration and take care of my own needs.

When her door opened again, no one objected when I stepped inside. Roslyn’s hair had been taken out of its fancy style and instead lay in a neat braid. She looked even more vulnerable, and I had to swallow down a lump of foreboding.

As the night deepened, the duke tried to get Her Grace to retire to their chamber and sleep, but she wouldn’t go. The duke stood there, his eyes hollow as he stared down at his still daughter and his distraught wife. I’d never seen someone’s eyes look so haunted.