Page 10 of Blood and Roses

"Not your problem, Rosa," she reminded herself and turned the bath taps on, letting it fill as she arranged her toiletries.

It was a good, old-fashioned claw foot tub that she had often thought of when sharing dorm showers with messy teenage girls. In those days, she had begged to go back to Gwaed Lyn, but her requests were always denied. Her mother was too busy looking after the Vane family to worry about her own.She was only doing what she thought was best for you, Rosa lectured herself.

Sooner or later, she would have to get over her abandonment issues. She took candles from the kitchen and set them uparound the bathroom before switching off the light, settling in the hot water and trying not to think about Balthasar Vane's grin.

It was latewhen Balthasar left the forest. Everything was so much quieter and easier out there. There was no Eli forcing him into meetings and no Saul sulking that he wasn't getting enough attention. Lily was still angry with him for returning to Gwaed Lyn. In her mind, she was the rightful heir to Eli's empire. To punish him, she had summoned Pearl, the only person that could infuriate him in less than a minute. Pearl had not forgiven him for rejecting her advances in the twenties and every subsequent decade. It all seemed so pointless.

Soft lights flickered in the bathroom of the Wylt cottage, and he slowed his horse.Rosa. She was sharper than the others realized.Would she figure out their secret?

The Wylts had always known what they were, but Eli had kept it from Rosa after Harold's murder. Balthasar had only met Rosa's father once in Paris and had liked him immensely. He had been warm and funny and had talked fondly of his strong-willed young daughter back home at Gwaed Lyn. He would never admit it, but Balthasar knew Eli felt guilty about Harold's death.

The way Eli had told it, one of the delegates from the Vecchio clan he was entertaining had attacked Eli when they were out hunting, and Harold had tried to protect his master. He hadn't stood a chance. Eli had been furious at the failed assassination attempt and the murder of a Wylt. He had gotten his revenge by destroying every member of the Vecchios that resided in England, warning the rest to stay in Italy.

After Harold's death, Eli had used a compulsion on Cecily to send Rosa away, for what chance did a child have in a house full of vicious, immortal monsters? Balthasar flicked his horse's reins impatiently.

What chance did she have now?

CHAPTER FOUR

The next morning, Rosa woke up with the sun. She smiled at the ceiling as she realized for the first night in weeks that she hadn't had any nightmares. Her fire had died in the night, but the room was still warm. She rolled over and buried her head under the pillow, the ghost of Balthasar's aftershave still detectable under the smell of mothballs. She thought of the bitchy Vanes and the one that defended her. He was the strangest of all with his warnings and his nighttime rides.

Rosa looked at the uniform dress for a full minute before digging in her suitcases and putting on black jeans instead. Be damned if she was going to be a serving girl. She would help Cecily and Vera in the kitchen and leave serving the Vanes to the three J's and the footman.

Vera was in a frazzled state when Rosa stepped into the warmth of the kitchen. "There you are!" she exclaimed. "Your mother's had another dizzy spell, so I've sent her back to bed. She dead fainted right here in the kitchen. I have to organize the girls. Can you do the breakfast this morning? I've written out their preferences for you." Vera handed her a small pile of indexcards and then started chastising Jessie for being late and in a crumpled uniform.

Rosa twisted her hair up into a high bun. Cooking she could do. Food was methodical and meditative. It made sense to her in a world where nothing else did. She poached, fried, toasted, and brewed, and the chaos of the kitchen fell away. She even resisted the urge to spit in Pearl's buttermilk pancakes.

When the meals were arranged on trays, and the girls were gone, Rosa made herself a strong coffee and went to check on Cecily. She was ashen and sleeping shallowly. Pill containers sat beside her bed as well as iron and vitamin D supplements.

"Thank you for helping out this morning," Cecily said as she roused. "I feel so silly."

"You're unwell, Mom. Everyone is allowed to get sick sometimes. After all, you're only human," Rosa said soothingly. "Vera will keep an eye on things, and I'll help clean out some rooms and steer clear of the Vanes."

"Be nice, Rosa. They don't have much to do with normal folk. Mr. Balthasar is a nice man. Did he give you your bag of things last night?"

"Yes, he did, and he got all weird about me not going out on the grounds after eight at night, like I was some silly teenager who would try to run away at midnight." Rosa gave an unladylike snort. "As if there's anything to run away to in a hundred kilometers of here."

"I'm sure he meant well. Honestly, Rosa, you're so prejudiced against them that anything they do or say, you'll take offense to," Cecily huffed. "Perhaps if you change your attitude, they will change theirs."

"I doubt it. You know you really should take some days off and get a doctor to have a proper look at you," Rosa suggested, trying to steer the conversation away from her attitude.

"It's only a bit of low blood pressure. I'll get Vera to cook me a steak, and I'll be fine."

"Seriously, if you let this get any worse, I'll go to Eli and get him to send you whether you want it or not."

"You're being dramatic. I'll be fine. You should go get started on the guest rooms. I don't know when guests will get here and…"

"I'll take care of it. You just stay here, and I'll check in on you later," Rosa said as she backed out of the room.

Rosa got Vera to allocate her a room to clean, and armed with a bucket of supplies, she hurried up the servant's passages. At least if she were using them, she wouldn't have to worry about encountering the Vanes or their never-ending stream of appointments.

The first room was on the third floor in the northern wing of the house. It was quiet and tucked away. Rosa put her headphones in and turned her angry classical music playlist up loud.

The suite had a sitting room, bedroom, and small bathroom, so she set about opening the curtains and windows, lifting off sheets and neatening the furniture placement. The oak four-poster bed had been stripped of its hangings, and as she polished the elaborate headboard and posts, she tried not to think of the generations of Vanes who'd had sex on it.

It took her hours to dust the high bookshelves, ornamental vases, busts, and small statues. The first painting she uncovered was done in heavy oils, and it featured a Greek Cupid and Psyche. It had no signature, but it was beautiful with a heavy use of light and dark, popular with the Baroque movement. Rosa lightly dusted the grooves of the heavy gilt frame but wasn't game to touch the canvas. Knowing her luck, it would be a lost Masterwork, and Eli would crucify her.

Rosa moved along the wall, covers revealing brilliant still lives and impressionist works. Pulling over a footstool, she reached up to take the last covering off a painting above the fireplace and nearly fell backward in surprise. It was another Baroque style work, but it was a portrait of Balthasar. He looked every inch the Regency lord with each fold and line of the jacket, neckcloth, and sheen of silk rendered with an alarming perfection.

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