Page 9 of Waking Roslyn

She rolled her eyes at my jest. “We are not exiled.”

“Fine,” I conceded, opening one of my trunks. “But it doesn’t sound as if you had much choice in the matter, so the question remains: Why?”

She sighed as she sank down onto a chair that sat by the window. “This estate has been a second home for the duke’s family for years. They used to spend summers and holidays here. As such, they were well-known and well-respected by those who lived in the village of Murrwood.”

“All right,” I prompted, wondering what that had to do with anything.

“A month ago, His Grace received word that the magistrate of Murrwood was corrupt, and that there was a group of citizens who were trying to take the law into their own hands. His Grace was most displeased that such things were occurring in a part of the dukedom that had always been peaceful and that was closely tied to the family.”

“Quite embarrassing,” I remarked.

“Quite,” she agreed. “So we came to investigate. We discovered that not only was the magistrate corrupt and stealing from the citizens here, but that the group of people trying to fight back were not grown men, but a ragtag band of teenagers and even children.”

I blinked at her in shock. “Oh my.” I was a teenager. Would I have had the courage to stand up to a corrupt lawman? I didn’t think so.

“Yes. I believe it was quite embarrassing for the duke, to find out that things had gotten so out of hand here, even in his own house. Come sit,” she said, indicating the other chair in the room.

My chin pulled back even as I crossed to the chair. “What do you mean, in his own house?”

“Some of his servants were the ones fighting back. Instead of these servants reaching out to His Grace and trusting him to remedy the situation, they believed their only recourse was to take matters into their own hands. As I said, embarrassing.” She took a sip of her tea and then added some cream. “So he’s tasked Edmund with finding a new magistrate and reclaiming the good reputation that the Rockwell family used to have here.”

I prepared my own tea, thinking through all she’d said. As I stirred the steaming liquid, I finally looked up at her. “Is that why you look so…”

“Haggard?” she said abruptly.

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“But it’s true,” she said with a long sigh.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” I prompted. Lisette had never been blissfully happy in her marriage. Edmund had married her mostly for her beauty and because his parents were impatient for an heir, so they hadn’t known each other well when they wed. They still didn’t know each other well, but she and Edmund got along for the most part.

She let out another tired sigh. “Edmund won’t tell me everything.”

My brow furrowed. “Everything?”

“About his history here, about the servants who seem a little afraid of him,” she said with a meaningful tip of her head and raised brow. “About the reasons he hates this place. And he does, Rose,” she said in earnest. “He hates it here.”

“And he’s making you miserable because of it?”

She shook her head and took a sip. “Not miserable, just…it’s hard to be content here when he’s so stormy about it.”

Stormy was an interesting way to describe Edmund’s darker moods. “It’s a lovely place, though,” I said, hoping she could see some of the potential that I already felt in my bones. “I wonder if you might end up enjoying it here,” I commented.

“Why’s that?”

“I know you’ve always found living under the duchess’s watchful eye to be taxing. Perhaps this will be an opportunity to spread your wings without all of her…suggestions.” Criticisms, or even rebukes would have been more accurate descriptions.

She seemed surprised by the idea. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Honestly, I’ve been so irked by the fact that we were essentially ordered to be here, it hadn’t occurred to me that there might be benefits to this arrangement.”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I suppose. I know Edmund might not be happy to be here, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be.”

She lapsed into silent thought, and we sipped our tea.

3

John

I dug into the earth with my trowel, gouging and stabbing.