Sincerely,
Lady Rose Hightower
The innocent hope in Rose’s letter tore at my heart and I found my eyes watering as I stood there in the dim hallway. I had to deliver the news to her, though it would destroy her dreams for the future. I wondered as well how Marc would handle the news. Two of our best and oldest friends were now gone. Would this wreck his recovery from what the goddess had done to him?
It was too much to figure out alone. We would have to help each other. I couldn’t shoulder my own burden and theirs as well. I took the stairs down to the main floor of the house and made my way to the door. Since I had no way of knowing where Marc was I would definitely be looking for Rose first.
I was on high alert as I left the house, with my mind stretched out to its fullest. I was curious as to whether anyone had been watching the house, but although I found several people in the buildings nearby none of them gave any indication that they were interested, or even aware of my appearance. I kept my pace casual as I walked through the city, but I didn’t bother to disguise my features. As far as the king knew I might not have even returned home yet.
I found Rose’s house less than a block from the tower where her father lived. I knew she possessed several estates in her own right even though her parents were still alive. The Hightower family was so well placed they could afford to pass certain titles on to her while Lord Hightower himself still lived. The house was modestly sized for someone of her relative social standing but it was obviously well cared for.
While most houses in town had large iron knockers on the doors, this one bore a cleverly wrought brass bell. I pulled on a small rope that hung below it and an almost melodic chiming issued forth. It seemed perfectly suited to Rose.
Within a span of breaths the door opened and a woman with neatly coiffed hair answered, “Good day sir. How can I help you?”
“I am here to call on Lady Rose Hightower,” I said in cultured tones, doing my best to imitate Benchley’s voice. I haven’t thought about that pompous bastard in a while, I wonder how he’s doing?
The woman’s eyes made a rapid examination of my clothes as she replied, “May I ask who is calling sir?” Her own clothing was trim and sharp, a dark blue dress with light blue accents. I might have taken her for noblewoman herself but for the practical apron she wore over her front.
“Please tell her that the Count di’Cameron is here, if she is available,” I answered.
The door opened wider at that pronouncement, “You may wait inside your Lordship. I’ll inform the Lady immediately.” She ushered me into a small waiting room near the front hall.
After she left I spent my time examining the furnishings. As expected the room was well appointed. In fact, although the style and decorations weren’t as lavish as those at the royal palace, they were better chosen and more tastefully arranged, at least in my opinion. I sat down in a comfortable chair to wait. The cushions on it were covered with a patterned green fabric that matched the rest of the room perfectly.
I didn’t wait long however. Almost immediately after sitting the woman who had let me in reappeared. “Lady Rose would like you to join her in her bedroom sir,” she told me, though something in her voice gave me the impression she would rather have chewed dung than to say those words. Her expression was definitely disapproving even as she tried to hide her opinion on the matter from me. “If you will follow me,” she added and then turned away leading me further into the house.
The house really wasn’t that large, and it only took a few seconds to reach the bedroom. The door was still open and Rose called out as soon as she heard us, “I’m so glad you’ve returned Mordecai! Please come in.”
I gave the maid a winning smile and did as I was bid. She entered with me I knew she simply couldn’t bear the thought of me being in the bedroom alone with Rose. She probably thinks all men are beasts just waiting to get into a lady’s boudoir. Then I got my first look at Rose and my breath caught in my throat.
She was standing in front of a large window with the afternoon sun streaming in around her. Another woman was kneeling behind her with a mouthful of pins and performing some arcane ritual of feminine mystery upon the dress that Rose wore. The dress itself was breathtaking. It was constructed of yellow material and embroidered with pink roses. The hem was far too long for it to be a ball gown, without even considering the train. Train? My brain had frozen up, but my eyes continued to explore. The neckline was daring, but not scandalous, showing a graceful neck and hints of her shoulders. Topping it all were Rose’s dark curls, except that for once her hair wasn’t carefully arranged, or even brushed and loose, instead it had been gathered into an ungainly mop and tied or pinned to the top of her head.
Her eyes caught mine. “Well? What do you think?” she said with an almost girlish smile on her face.
I was frozen in place. The dress could be only one thing, a wedding dress. Knowing her family it had probably been worn by her mother or great grandmother and she was having it fitted. She was pleased by my shocked face. “I’ll take that look as a compliment,” she said at last.
My mouth worked as my mind tried to come up with some way to rescue what was already one of the most tragic moments I could imagine. “But he hasn’t even asked you yet…,” came the words from my mouth. Apparently that was the best I could manage.
Rose’s eyes darted to her maid and then to the woman pinning her dress, “Mistress Kenwick, now should be a good time for a break. Angela, would you mind taking Mistress Kenwick to the parlor for some refreshments? I’d like some privacy.”
Angela, the woman who had escorted me in, dipped her head and ushered the seamstress out. “I’ll just leave the door open milady,” she replied.
“Shut it please.”
Angela pursed her lips unhappily but did as she was told and then I was alone with Rose. I glanced at her again and started to say something but she was quicker and spoke first, “Father said he would be looking forward to meeting Dorian again, which is as close to giving his outright approval as I could expect. I don’t think it will be very long after that.”
“Still, this seems a bit sudden,” I said, floundering for better words.
Rose left the window and came over to greet me more warmly, putting her arms around my shoulders. “Relax Mordecai, I know it could be a year or longer even. I’ve been waiting years already; this is just a bit of fun. No sense in being caught unprepared after all.”
“Years?”
She stepped back and gave me a serious look. “Since his parents sent him to foster under my father’s tutelage.”
That had been years ago, when Dorian was a growing boy of just thirteen years I recalled. “He told me that he rarely spoke to you then.”
Rose laughed, “ He rarely spoke. I followed him about and teased him frequently. I had never met such a serious young man, nor one so easily embarrassed.” The memory put a sparkle in her eyes as she spoke.
I could tell by her mood she was ready to continue the story but I stopped her, “Rose.”
She grew still and her eyes searched my face carefully. Her euphoria had blinded her usual perceptiveness, but now her attention had focused fully upon me. In the span of a few seconds she read the sad tale written on my visage and I saw her own features darken. It was like watching rainclouds cover a previously sunny sky. “What happened?”
I had kept myself under control pretty well for the past two days but her simple question undid me. My eyes were watering as I looked away, “I don’t know how to say this Rose.”