Page 12 of Waking Roslyn

Who was she though? One of the new maids brought on by Lord and Lady Rockwell? The only other woman I wouldn’t recognize was the guest of Lady Lisette, but I couldn’t imagine she’d be wandering the woods at night. Then again, new maids wandering the grounds didn’t make much sense either.

4

Roslyn

The encounter with the young man last night had left me only a little shaken. Mostly I was intrigued. Where had they been coming from? I was also envious, because I didn’t know if I would ever have that kind of camaraderie with anyone other than Lisette. I hoped I would, but I was seventeen and had yet to find a place where I felt wanted—where I fit. There were so few people in the world who truly knew me that it felt impossible. And if they did find out who I was, that would only make the distance greater. My own maid was always helpful, but Everly held propriety as the highest order, and I knew she’d never treat me as anything but her superior.

Lisette and I took tea together, and although I was anxious to share the strange encounter with her, I hesitated. I understood so little about what I’d seen and heard that I wanted to find out more myself before I shared the intriguing morsel with anyone else.

“Would you like to explore the third floor with me?” Lisette asked as we finished our tea.

“Of course.” I was always up for exploring.

We left the sitting room behind and climbed the first set of stairs. As we started the second set I asked, “You’ve not been up here yet?” I was surprised that she hadn’t seen an entire floor of her house after living here for a month.

She shook her head. “Edmund treats this portion of the house the same way he does the old wing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he won’t step foot in it.”

I let out a sigh. “And he still won’t tell you what it is about this place that he hates?”

“Not a word.”

“I’m sorry, Lisette.”

She shrugged as we climbed the last few steps. “It is what it is.”

What we found on the third floor was one giant corridor that had been turned into a portrait gallery. Large windows sat in tall alcoves at regular intervals, with one giant portrait occupying each stretch of wall between the alcoves. That is, if they were occupied at all. The portion of the gallery that sat at the back of the house had portraits missing in several spaces. The outlines of where those paintings had been were clearly visible. At first I thought that was because of dust, but when I looked up at the ceiling, I saw that it bore the same dark stain as the walls, darker even.

“Damage from the fire,” Lisette commented from beside me, her face tilted up as she examined the walls and ceiling.

“What fire?”

“It happened five, maybe six years ago.” She continued slowly down the corridor, studying the portraits that remained. “Edmund told me about it soon after we arrived. The rest of the damage has been restored and cleaned, but they didn’t bother with this space. I think they were so disappointed with the loss of their ancestral portraits that repairing the walls didn’t seem important.”

“What caused the fire?”

“An accident.”

That must have been quite an accident. “Was the family living here at the time?” This was the first time any of the family had returned to this estate since Lisette had married Edmund.

“No. This was Damian’s home after he married. His widow was living here at the time of the fire.”

“I didn’t know Damian had been married.” Edmund’s younger brother had died long before Lisette ever met Edmund.

“They’d been married less than a year when he died.”

“How tragic. What happened to his wife?” I asked, hoping the poor woman hadn’t perished in the blaze.

“Apparently, she remarried and is living on the neighboring estate.” She tilted her head to the east, in the direction of the wooded area that occupied the land between this estate and the next.

“I thought the lady of Sutton Manor was one of the Dalthian princesses.”

“She is.”

I blinked. “And she was married to Edmund’s brother before he died?”