Page 56 of Rose
“How is your father?” Tristan asked.
“He is well, Captain Thatcher.”
“Give my best wishes to your family.”
Darby’s smile broadened, twisting his lips even more askew. “I will sir, and thank you, sir.”
Tristan wrapped his arm securely around Rose’s waist as he led her across the courtyard toward the massive double doors of the towering building. Before they reached the first stair, the doors swung wide, and two guards stepped onto the landing, followed by a tall, broad shouldered man with thick gray hair and bright amber eyes. He was joined by a woman with delicate features and big, dark eyes. The color of her hair remained hidden beneath a severe wimple and towering headdress. Following behind her was a young woman with long, unbound flaxen waves, demurely covered with a deep midnight-blue veil.
Tristan smiled warmly. “Good day to you, Father,” he said with a dip of his head.
“Tristan,” his father replied, but his eyes were not on his son. They were fixed on Rose. Despite her racing heart, she stood tall and imbued her face with warmth.
“I trust your journey was a safe one,” his father continued.
“It was, thank you.” Tristan glanced at Rose and gave her hand an encouraging squeeze before he led her up the stairs. “Stepmother, you look well,” Tristan said when they reached the landing. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, never releasing Rose’s hand. “As do you, Elizabeth,” he said, turning to greet his sister.
Then he smiled at Rose. He didn’t look away as he said, “Father, Stepmother, Elizabeth, I would like to introduce you to my wife, Rose Thatcher.”
The silence that followed blasted Rose’s ears. Smiling awkwardly, her gaze flitted over Tristan’s family. Owen Thatcher’s lips were set in a grim line. His stepmother looked at her with appraising eyes, but how Rose measured up to Iris Thatcher’s expectations remained concealed behind her impassive expression. It was in Elizabeth’s bright eyes that Rose found her comfort. Tristan’s sister stepped forward and pulled Rose into a warm embrace.
“I have been so excited to meet you,” Elizabeth beamed.
Then, before Rose knew what was happening, Elizabeth seized her hand and pulled her through the door, leaving Tristan and his parents in their wake. Rose gasped as she entered the massive hall. The ceiling above the entryway surely reached to the very roof. A wide staircase filled the center of the room, leading to the first of four stories, which circled around the open space, forming a series of balconies. Beyond the balcony railings, Rose glimpsed endless doors and hallways. She couldn’t imagine what secrets the vast rooms held.
Instead of leading Rose up the central staircase, Elizabeth turned and strode through tall double doors that opened into a great room. Several trencher tables and benches lined the floor, and at its center was a massive hearth. Still, Elizabeth pulled her forward, past the hearth, then up a few wide stairs.
“Your home is endless,” Rose said, breathlessly.
“This is the family solar,” Elizabeth said, glancing back at Rose. “But I’m going to take you to my favorite room. We are almost there.”
Beyond the solar was a round room, small, but only in comparison to the rest of Birch Heights. Brightly colored tapestries adorned the walls, and despite summer’s heat, a fire crackled in the hearth. It was then that Rose noticed how cool the Thatcher fortress felt.
“Do sit down,” Elizabeth said, motioning to one of two chairs in front of the hearth. “I have so many questions for you.”
Rose happily claimed the chair, hoping a sedentary moment would calm her racing heart.
“I am so glad you’ve come,” Elizabeth said, drawing Rose’s gaze. Elizabeth’s eyes were darker than Tristan’s, contrasting beautifully with her light blond hair. Her cheeks bloomed pink with youth’s kiss, and her smile shone brighter than the nearby flames. “I’ve always wanted a sister,” she chirped. “Do you have a sister?”
Rose smiled sadly. “I did have a younger sister, but I’m afraid she died some years ago.”
Elizabeth gasped. Her hand covered her mouth. “Oh Rose, I am so very sorry. How did she die?”
Rose leaned forward and gently clasped Elizabeth’s hand. “Do not fash yerself about that now, sweetling. Let us speak of joyous things. Tell me about yerself.”
Rose smiled as she listened to Elizabeth chatter on about her interests and dreams, most of which centered around finding true love. She also spoke of Tristan, praising her big brother. Rose sat back in her seat and sighed, delighted to have made her first ally.
