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Angela bowed her head. “Sorry, Rose.”
The other girl, Liza, did the same. “Yes… sorry, Rose. I didn’t know about the coal.”
“And you?” Rose glared at Penelope. “Are you sorry? Will you cease your gossiping for the sake of your employer, who keeps you fed and clothed and secure and puts the coin in your pocket?”
Penelope turned up her nose. “I won’t apologize for what things looked like. I’m not the only one who thought there was something improper going on.” She paused, a note of worry in her voice. “But… I will say sorry for sending you for the coal and for jumping to conclusions.”
“Good, then I hope this will be the end of it.” Rose turned around and got into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. Behind her, she heard the other girls doing the same and found comfort in their uncharacteristic silence.
As the lights were turned out, she pulled the box of wonders to her chest and wrapped her arms about it. She did not like the way they had come to her, but she did like the one who had sent them and was grateful that he had thought of her in such a sweet manner.
Thank you, Lord Langston… Thank you for this gift. I don’t know if this will make my dream come true, but it’s a step in the right direction. And it’s all because of you and your words, and this offering.More than that, she was secretly glad that he had put together something so personal and meaningful for her when he had no reason to. It made her think of his lips so close to hers last night and the almost kiss they had shared before the possibility had spooked him.
However, as she stared at the wall and listened to the sound of the other girls falling asleep, she had an ominous sense that this would not be the end of her troubles. Pleasant thoughts could only do so much to keep her worries at bay, and rumors were like contagions, insidious and far-reaching. This one would only continue to spread due to the likes of Penelope… and she knew there was nothing she could do about it, aside from ride out the storm and hope it passed quickly. For Lord Langston and her, both.
* * *
Outside the open doors of Langston House’s kitchens, the cloaked man crouched in the shadows beneath the sill and listened with great interest to the talk of those within. He had crept much closer than usual after he had caught wind of some intriguing information from two of the groundskeepers who had come close to his hiding place in the woods.
“I can’t believe it meself,” a woman muttered. “Rose Parker’s a good-natured lass, and she works hard in the laundry. I haven't heard her complain once, even when her hands were all blistered up. She ain’t one of these what’d try to get theirselves a place as Countess or even a mistress. It’s a misunderstanding. That is what it is.”
“That Hannah from the laundry said the same. Apparently, he was just bringing Rose back to the house after the housemaids played that coal trick on her,” a different woman replied. “But I’ve not heard of him doing something like that before. Have you?”
“He cares for his staff. Of course, he’d do summat like that if he thought a young lass were in danger,” the first woman shot back, firm in her resolve. “Especially if Lord Bentley were on the prowl out there.”
A third voice—a man, this time—interjected. “Aye, but don’t ye think it’s queer how he brought her here? He don’t pick up waifs and strays, yet he brings that lass all the way from London? Men don’t do that sort of thing for nae reason. I’d say she’s likely some bawd he took pity on.”
“She ain’t no bawd!” the first woman shouted back. “You’ve only got to look at her to know that. She don’t have that deadness behind the eyes.”
“Fine, then she’s some lass he saw and took a fancy to.” The man huffed out a sigh. “Either way, he brings her here, then he’s caught walkin’ with her out on the grounds. Don’t matter if he were bein’ kind or not; a man only protects a woman like that if he’s got interest in her. And I’ve seen the way he looks at her. I’ve seen him watchin’ her from afar. Rose mightn’t know it, I’ll give ye that, but he’s besotted by her.”
The first woman made a thoughtful sound. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
The cloaked man smirked to himself in the darkness, for he had heard all he needed to. Doubts had been seeded that Lord Langston was, perhaps, not as upstanding and chaste as everyone thought. If he was to act upon his purpose for being here, that was precisely what he needed the staff, and those the rumors would spread to, to believe. Things had already begun to move into place, and he had not had to lift a finger. He merely had to listen and wait.
Now, I must ensure that Rose begins to doubt him, too. I must frighten her, so she turns her back on him out of terror. I must give her no choice but to leave him, so I may exact my revenge for the pain he has made me endure and to show her the error of her ways.He slithered back into the woods, catfooted and sly, until he reached the camp that he had built for himself there, deep within the trees where no-one would ever see him.
Reaching the tent that he had constructed from canvas and twine, he ducked inside and lit a lantern, which had a large rectangle of black wood on one side to block out the glow from anyone outside. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he pushed back his hood and took out paper, quill, and ink.
Flexing his fingers, he began to write a note so chilling, it made the hairs stand up on the back of his own neck as he let the words coil across the page. The inky snare that would entangle both Rose and Lord Langston and bring satisfaction to the hooded man’s heart, once and for all.
