Page 53 of Gilded Locks

“That doesn’t make sense.” Frowning, Grace shuffled her basket of corn a foot to the left.

With a grunt, Willa swung with her whole body. “Uncle Gustav says it does.”

Grace shuddered at the sheriff’s name. “Well, then it definitely doesn’t make sense.”

When Willa laughed, Grace eyed her suspiciously, but the petite young woman just kept swiping the curved blade at the stalks of corn. A smile tugged hesitantly at Grace’s lips.

“Yeah,” Willa said, “he also said it happened because that man on the barn thought my temper was too hot and it made me a threat.”

The smile vanished. Of course the sheriff thought it was the Rogue.

“So, how bad is the damage to your home?”

Grace only had a second to absorb the fact that she’d referred to the Ferrer manor as Willa’s home before the girl responded.

“For all that’s mystic, Robbins, give me a moment of peace,” Willa demanded. “I’m missing the days when you’d turn your nose up at me.”

“Excuse me for being concerned. About the Ferrers’ manor.” The second statement came belatedly.

Willa sighed and dug the flat end of the scythe into the ground. “Okay. Here’s what I know. Someone came tomyhome around twilight while my family was hard at work in these endless fields. They walked up to the door, melted the lock, and got in without breaking the door.

“They ransacked our pantry, tossed anything on tables and shelves onto the ground, broke multiple pieces of furniture, including my favorite chair, and upturned every bed, slicing through the mattress, leaving horsehair scattered over everything, so that I had to sleep on the hard wood floor last night.

“If they left anything, it’s mixed in with the mess we haven’t gotten to clean up because Uncle Gustav has been wandering in and out of our home all day.

“Now, please, leave me in peace, or chatter on about mundane things I can tune out.”

Willa turned her back on Grace and began swinging the scythe in her inexperienced but emphatic way.

Grace stood mouth agape. What Willa described sounded truly horrible. This wasn’t an act of redistribution, nor simple, minor damage. It was a vicious attack.

James, the Rogue, wouldn’t do this. In no way did such cruelty help save the people. It was exactly what the Mayor had warped the Protector’s break-ins into—exactly what Grace’s school teacher had taught the children had happened.

With an awful dawning of clarity, Grace realized she’d made a terrible oversight. She’d been assuming James would behave like the Protectors had. But James had been only three or four years old in the days of the original Rogue. The only knowledge he’d have of the Rogue’s antics would be those tales of a destructive criminal.

He very well might have laid waste to the Leroux home.

Still, what good would James think this could do? Was he trying to drive supporters of the mayor out of Fidara? Perhaps that was the real reason he had been setting up meetings with gentry. She’d thought he’d intended to discover more about the risk to her family, but maybe he’d been casing homes as well.

So, why the Lerouxs?

Willa wasn’t as loyal as Grace had once thought, but the Rogue had been so far away, could he hear what was happening just before his attack? Or, Grace felt sick, had James simply latched onto her own hatred of Willa and used that as justification?

No. It could have been tactical. The mayor and the sheriff were his prime enemies. His focus would be striking at them directly, or, if that wasn’t safely possible, at someone close to them. Mayor Nautin had no family in Fidara. But Sheriff Clairmont did.

However, even if the Rogue believed Willa the enemy, destruction of this kind was likely to scare Fidarans into the tyrannical arms of the mayor for protection. At least, that’s what the mayor’s false stories had done in her parents time.

Curse that stubborn rebel. What had he done?

Break his promise to wait two days, that’s what he’d done. Distress hardened into anger. She’d let him use her! And for what? A fluttery heart and a craving for someone to trust!

“I want to see your home,” Grace demanded.

“Robbins!” Willa groaned.

“I want to see what was done.”

“If I say yes, will you leave it alone?”

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