Page 5 of Legacy of Roses

She shook her head, but her lips were curved upward. “That is an understatement.” When he opened his mouth to respond, she quickly cut him off. “And don’t even think about making a comment that relates to me and my name. Believe me, I’ve already heard them all.”

Dimitri’s lips quivered, but he didn’t dare laugh in case he offended her further.

“And don’t bother asking me any questions either,” she added. “Since you don’t know anything, it’s better for you to get the whole picture in one go from the record keeper.”

Once again, Dimitri wanted to protest her assessment of his education. But since he had felt hopelessly ignorant since the moment of their meeting, he kept his mouth closed.

The two girls stopped in front of a neat cottage with a bordering garden—full of roses, of course. There was no fence, but the garden ended in such an abrupt line that it was easy to tell where their land ended. And it was equally obvious that someone cared for it meticulously.

He glanced again at Rosalie? Was it her? Somehow he couldn’t imagine it—not given the barely repressed energy that poured out of her and her obvious scorn for roses. She didn’t seem like she had the patience for careful gardening.

Dimitri only wished her house had been further into Thebarton so he could have more time with her. Would she reject questions about herself the same way she had about the flowers?

His thoughts were still occupied with her when she launched into a precise and detailed set of instructions for how to find the record keeper’s office.

“Once you reach the center of town,” she concluded, “look for the largest house with the most elaborate frontage. It’s two buildings to the left of that.”

“If the house is still there,” Daphne said mildly.

Rosalie gave her an impatient look. “We aren’t that far out of town! We would have heard if there was a fire—or smelled it, at least. Plus the boys would already be out here telling us all about it.”

Dimitri wasn’t sure about the cause of his sudden tension—the casual suggestion that Thebarton was full of arsonists or the equally casual reference to boys. He would have liked to question both things, but the two girls’ conversation continued too quickly for him to interject.

“I suppose you’re right,” Daphne conceded. “Those terrors would be delighted at having such dramatic news. As if your family isn’t traumatized enough.”

Some of Dimitri’s tension eased at the obvious indication that the boys in question were children. Rosalie, on the other hand, took offense at Daphne’s words, dropping her friend’s arm as her hands flew to her hips.

“They aren’t terrors, they’re children. Even if they like to think of themselves as youths.” She rolled her eyes. “And if theFosters’ home burns down, it will be no one’s fault but their own. They’ve been making it more and more fancy ever since—” She broke off, glancing at her family’s cottage.

Dimitri frowned, once again feeling as if he was missing most of the story.

“Don’t bother trying to pick a fight with me,” Daphne said without heat. “You know I can’t be bothered arguing with you. Your brothers can be angels if you insist, and I quite agree about the Fosters. They should forget about their new elevated status and consider the dangers instead.” She shrugged. “But it’s no business of mine. Or yours, for that matter.” She added the last part as if she didn’t think there was much point in trying to direct Rosalie toward disinterest.

Rosalie giggled in response, her momentary heat passed. “My brothers are far from angels as we both know. And since all three of them are smitten with you, I can understand why you think them terrors.”

Daphne shuddered—the most animated reaction Dimitri had yet seen from her.

“Please don’t remind me.”

“But how could they help it?” Rosalie said loyally. “You’re so beautiful.”

Daphne rolled her eyes. “If you start up, too, I really won’t come to visit anymore.”

Rosalie grinned, the secure expression of someone who knew her friend would never abandon her. Dimitri smiled as well, unable to help his face mirroring Rosalie’s expressive one.

But a moment later, his good humor dropped away as he remembered his upcoming solitary walk back to an abandoned house. He had never possessed a close friend in the mountain community—the inhabitants kept too much distance for that, and his mother had never encouraged it. He hadn’t felt the lack, though. When he had wanted company, there had always beensomeone to be found, and when he had wanted solitude, no one had bothered him. It had seemed ideal. But suddenly he found himself wishing for a friend he could rely on in everything. It was a novel concept.

“Farewell!” Rosalie said abruptly, piercing his thoughts. He blinked at her as she dragged Daphne up the path toward the cottage’s door. “Just continue down the road, remember.” She waved toward where the houses grew closer together. “And don’t forget it’s the second building on the left.”

Dimitri didn’t even have time to thank her before the two girls disappeared inside the house, the door closing firmly behind them. He stood for a long moment staring at it and wondering what sort of family and home lay on the other side.

But at last he shook himself and turned back toward the manor. Thanks to Rosalie he now knew the name and location of the closest town, and it appeared to be a decent size as well. When he was ready to visit a store and meet the local leaders, he would know where to go.

He wasn’t in a hurry to do so, however. He had watched plenty of newcomers join the mountain community over the years, and those who sought out the unofficial leaders usually fared the best. But he wanted to do some reading in the manor library to check that matters were conducted the same way in Glandore. He didn’t want to miss some essential step out of ignorance.

But as he walked away, his thoughts strayed from Thebarton and its leaders. He glanced back at the cottage. His path into the town would bring him past her door every time. Surely he would run into her again?

Before he came back, though, he had study of a different sort before him. Rosalie had shown him that he had a lot to learn about Glandore—and something called a Legacy. And while he was at it, he would look for answers about his mother’s familyand why they had left her large and apparently prosperous estate abandoned for twenty years.

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