Page 24 of The Dreaming Beauty
“Absolutely wonderful,” Aster said, taking the blanket from Tansy.
“First time in a long time that I did not fall asleep,” Iris added.
“I am glad to hear it.” Tansy shifted her body toward the road and tugged Daisy forward, hoping the others would follow. Daisy had done wonderfully, and Tansy wanted to return home before that changed.
“Mrs. Wood! Mrs. Palmer.”
Tansy pinched her eyes closed. That now familiar voice was the last sound she had hoped to hear today. She turned to see Mr. Taylor hurrying toward them and was dismayed when her heart flip-flopped in her chest. Drat. She wasn’t supposed to be happy to see him. His presence would only draw more attention their way.
When he reached them, his gaze met Tansy’s. “Good day to you.” He tipped his hat. “I did not see you inside and worried you or Miss White were sick.”
“No,” Tansy said quickly, trying not to admire his dashing dress coat. “We were here.”
He frowned as if he did not understand, but she was not about to explain to him the complex nature of her youngest aunt.
“Mr. Taylor!”
Tansy cringed as two women hurried their way—a mother and daughter, if she had to guess. She wanted to meet some townspeople, but not because of her odd connection to Mr. Taylor. Besides, by the elegant gowns the women wore and their heavily embellished bonnets, there was no way they ran in the same circles as Tansy and her aunts.
“Ah, Mrs. Bellvue, Miss Bellvue.” He dipped his head. “Let me introduce you to Mrs. Palmer, Mrs. Wood, Miss Daisy White, and Miss Tansy White. They are residing at Rose Cottage.” Tansy and her aunts curtsied, as did Mrs. Bellvue and her daughter.
Mrs. Bellvue was taller than her daughter and not nearly as pretty. “Rose Cottage, you say?” Her forehead scrunched in confusion. “It has been empty for more years than I can remember, and for good reason. If the ghost stories were not enough, the rumors of the Dark Rider being seen in that vicinity would frighten anyone. Are you quite safe there?”
Tansy’s aunts stiffened.
“Ghost stories?” Daisy asked. “Are you sure they weren’t fairy stories?”
Miss Bellvue laughed. “Fairies? No, there is indeed a lady ghost who haunts the place. Many have seen her. Have you not?”
“Rumors are just that—rumors,” Aster said. “There is not a single ghost anywhere near Rose Cottage. I can assure you on that account.”
“That’s because it’s really fairies,” Daisy whispered loudly to Aster, ducking her head when she finished. Aster quietly shushed her.
“What is this you said about the Dark Rider?” Iris’s dark brow settled over her wide eyes. “You don’t mean the Masked Baron? I’ve heard stories about that dreaded highwayman that would give a grown woman nightmares.”
“There aren’t many in England who haven’t heard about his conquests with that sword he wields,” Mrs. Bellvue said matter-of-factly.
Aster tugged her shawl tighter. “What is a lawless nobleman like him doing here?”
Mrs. Bellvue hitched up her nose. “I am not one to listen to gossip, so I cannot say exactly, but just last year he rented a horse from Mr. Franklin’s stable when his black stallion was overtired. He came for his horse only a day and half later but was never seen leaving town. For all we know, he could have taken up a secret residence. Some even speculated Rose Cottage to be his choice of lodging before your family arrived.” She raised a brow and waited, as if she expected one of them to confess to something.
When no one responded, she said, “The particulars are vague, but there is something strange going on in that corner of the country. Terribly strange. All those accounts of murder and hauntings set me quite on edge.” She shuddered. “If it were not for Mr. Taylor, I would never go that direction myself.”
Ghosts, murder, and a masked baron. How lovely. Tansy and her family were already at a disadvantage with their complicated history, so why not throw in a few other reasons for people to be wary of them? Should she claim a headache and end the conversation before someone decided to bring up the family curse?
Mr. Taylor folded his arms across his chest, the pull of his jacket emphasizing his strong figure. “Do not be too concerned, ladies. In the last year since my return from Oxford and the six years previous of my family residing here, I have found Whitfield to be most peaceful. Mrs. Wood is right. Rumors are just rumors.”
“Except for the fairies,” Daisy added.
Tansy patted her arm. “We know, Daisy.”
Mrs. Bellvue gave them a strange look before facing Mr. Taylor again. “But Mr. Taylor—” Her counterargument was cut short when her daughter put her hand on her mother’s arm.
“No more talk of such dire topics on the Sabbath, Mama.” Miss Bellvue turned to Tansy. “I hope you all like it here. I did not think that old cottage was in a livable condition, and I am happy to be wrong.”
The ghost stories had been a surprise, but the snobbery was not. This was exactly what Tansy had feared by meeting anyone associating with the ranks of a duke or his family.
“Ah, but they have made several improvements,” Mr. Taylor said, successfully preventing Tansy from saying something rude. “I’ve always believed the place had charm, but with such lovely occupants, I cannot find any fault with it.”
