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Ainsley
Rookhallow Proper had been in a state of mourning since learning of my father’s death—and by that, I meant society had taken it as an invitation to wear bedazzled black, and gossip amongst themselves as though they were somehow in on the knowledge of our true pain.
Mother and Ihad received several visitors while preparing for his memorial service. Poor Mother. She was nearly beside herself with grief, and I was doing my best to maintain a strong presence, her shoulder to cry on, although inside I was just as broken. However, Duchess Gwendolyn had an appearance to maintain, regardless of her suffering, and it was my job as her daughter to ensure we held together as a family. That was the funny thing about the many façades we wore like clothing—Mother had hers, too. Such was the life of royal blood.
On day three after my father’s passing, the final preparations were complete. It was time to receive visitors for the official memorial.
The duchess knocked on my chamber door as Kate, my dressing maid, helped me put the finishing touches on my hair. “Come in, Mother.”
She opened the door, and it snicked closed behind her. “Kate, dear, will you give the two of us a few moments?”
Kate bowed before her. “Yes, my Lady. I’ll only be in the corridor when you require my services.”
Mother smiled graciously, but I noticed how it pained her. “Very well. Thank you, Kate. We shall not be long.”
As soon as Kate disappeared behind the closed door, Mother motioned for us to sit on the settee near the foot of my bed. “Ainsley, today will be difficult for the both of us, I’m afraid.” She held her head high and her shoulders back. “I will apprise you of the situation once I have learned more regarding the circumstances of your father’s death, but remain wary, dear.”
I drew my brows together in confusion. “Do you believe someone in our household harmed him?” I could feel my heart pounding, hear the blood rushing through my veins. How was that possible? I…
“I have it on good authority that, yes, it is quite likely the case, yet I am uncertain as to whom or what the cause at present. I do, however, know the ‘why.’”
My pulse quickened and my palms began to sweat. “What? Why?” My brows rose in concern, and my voice pitched.
“That is not something I am at liberty to share at the moment, Ainsley. I will in due time.” She swept a loose strand of hair away from my face. “Do not fret. I am covering all angles, and this, my dear, is for your protection.”
I rose from my seat and began to pace. “Mother, you have been secretive and not at all forthcoming with knowledge regarding Father’s passing, or what you know of my supposed destiny. It makes me wonder—are they connected?” I knew I likely sounded as though I’d lost all sense, but at that point, I had nothing to lose.
Cryptic, thy name is Duchess Gwendolyn.
“Ainsley, please sit down. You are making me rather dizzy.” Mother lifted her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Honestly, I will inform you of what you need to know as it comes, this I promise you.”
I felt like a petulant child prepared to throw a tantrum. I knew nothing more than I had the day Father had passed. I also had no earthly idea why we were even having this conversation. Was Mother having a fit of nerves taking over her mind? I nearly said as much but refrained.
She rose from her seat and set her hands upon my shoulders. “I will tell you this: it is not the kitchen staff, so you needn’t worry about the food.”
Wonderful. So, I could eat without worrying whether I’d be poisoned or not, but hey, I’d better watch for a knife coming toward my back. She made exactly zero sense.
I decided to just nod and agree. I assumed this pointless conversation was likely due to her grief. If that were the case, then I would certainly feel like the worst daughter. Ever.
Mother clasped my hands in hers. “Are you ready, dear? Guests will be arriving any moment now, and we should be downstairs to greet them. It is the proper thing to do. Etiquette and all that.”
Observing her features for further answers, I found none waiting. Mother had replaced her grief-stricken appearance with that of the stoic duchess. It was now time we played our part.
“Yes, I’m ready.” I inclined my head toward the door and trailed after her where Kate awaited us in the corridor.
She bowed. “Will there be anything else, my Lady?”
“Not at this time, dear. That will be all.” Mother patted Kate’s arm with a warm smile (which was extremely out of character for her), and we made our way toward the stairs.
Before we reached the first step, the duchess turned to me. “Do not answer any questions as to how your father passed. Accept condolences and nothing more. Jackson is waiting downstairs, and if you feel yourself becoming overburdened, remain near his side at all times.” Her expression was hard as stone. “Do you understand, Ainsley?”
“I…yes, Mother. But—”
“This is not up for discussion, my dear. No one is to know of the circumstances of his death until the investigation is complete. I do not care if the queen herself inquires. However, if by chance you find yourself in a situation where you must answer, your response will be limited to: ‘It was sudden and unexpected.’ That is all.”
I nodded; however, the secrecy had caused me to grow even more suspicious and irritable. Who would want to harm my father, and why?
This memorial should have been for family and close friends, although I knew the duke was well loved by the people of Rookhallow Proper. I also knew I was being crass and selfish, but the rumor mill and gossip train in this town was pathetic, regardless of how much they cherished my father. I wished I could blink, and this day be over.
