Chapter 30
Rosalyn spun in a circle with her arms outstretched as if she were ten years old again. Her chamber. She was finally back in her chamber. She turned and turned until she collapsed into a tangled pile of dress and giggles on the tapestried floor while Greta watched her from a seat by the hearth, just like she had when she was little.
Rosalyn gazed about her childhood room full of beauty and whimsy. Unicorns galloped across the walls, painted by one of Aberdeen’s most acclaimed artisans. Her white-canopied bed sported bright-red velvet drapes, where she’d spent hours hiding and playing games.
“Aye, Rose, the other servants and I fought to keep it the same as when ye left,” Greta said proudly.
Rosalyn glanced over at her former nursemaid just as she was swiping a tear from her cheek.
“We prayed you would be back as rightful heiress, and here ye be,” Greta gushed.
Rightful heiress? Yes, that’s what she would like to believe as she rushed to the hearth and sat at the feet of the woman who’d been like a mother to her. “Do I dare to dream the people of Aberdeen, our clan, and the servants at Fyvie, will welcome me back?” She gazed up at Greta. “To allow me to lead?”
With a loving gesture, Greta brushed the stray hair from her brow. “Darling Rose, I cannae speak for the clan, nor the people of Aberdeen, but I can tell you with all the confidence in my soul, that the servants of Fyvie love you and will follow you anywhere you lead us, just like your da.”
The words warmed her heart and had her beaming inside with pride. If only she could rid herself of Lachlan and gain the trust of the clan and the people of Aberdeen, then she would find a man, a righteous, brave Highlander to join her in the wool trade. Perhaps even venture to Norway together to barter for some of the finest wools of all the kingdoms.
As Greta stroked her hair, Rosalyn’s dreams lifted her spirits. Her nursemaid had shared the news, that the Garter Knight Sir James, current custodian of Fyvie, would hold court on the morrow and make judgement on all the claims for her castle.
How dare others come forward to seek what is rightly mine?
“Why are you frowning, child?” Greta asked, bringing her out of her musings.
“Oh, Greta, I must find a way to win Fyvie. I have to convince Sir James that the castle should be mine.”
Greta gazed down at her with that loving wisdom that can’t be forced or faked. “Darling, Rose, do not trouble your pretty head over those details.” She grinned widely. “Leave it to me. I will show you, and Sir James, who should be rightful heiress of Fyvie. Will you trust me?” Greta asked, her gray hair shining bright from the flaming light behind her.
Rosalyn nodded.
“Good,” she said. “Tis settled, now no more fretting.” She tsked. “You pretty yourself up, and I shall see you in the great hall for the evening meal.”
Rosalyn sighed, but nodded in acceptance. Sometimes it felt good to be bossed about by someone who loved her. She still missed her mother, and the news that she could be in prison somewhere in Aberdeen with her sister worried her terribly, but for now, she had to focus on gaining control and then she could rescue her family.
After Greta let herself out, Rosalyn was surprised to find a number of newly sown gowns in her wardrobe. What Greta had said was true, they’d been planning her return.
Now, what to do about Lachlan and the hearing in the morning? She felt so conflicted. Before the marriage, Lachlan had been charming, attentive, even doting at times, making her hate the English less. But then on the way to Aberdeen, he’d been cold, insulting, and distant. When they’d been close, he’d been demanding. She was grateful to have remained a virgin, but threating him with public humiliation had kept him away.
Now that she looked back upon the events leading up to their union, Rosalyn was certain Lachlan had only pretended to be smitten with her. Acting, to convince her that the idea of marriage would set things right. For they truly were not.
But if Greta was certain the servants and those beyond the castle walls would support her leadership, then she wouldn’t need Lachlan and she could follow through with an annulment after all.
A dim rapping sound on her chamber door shattered her solitude. And before she had a chance to make an inquiry, Ursula seemed to magically appear.
“Oh, my, are you a witch?” Rosalyn asked with breathless surprise. “I could swear you materialized out of the air.”
Ursula gave her a smug smile. “Witch or healer, which am I? Perhaps both,” she said, her eyes gleaming mysteriously.
Rosalyn rushed to her friend and grabbed her hands. “How is Joshua faring? I’ve been so wrapped up in my own needs, I had not looked into how your Highlander was doing.”
Ursula squeezed her hands. “Do not worry, he’s been in my good care and is improving enough for me to seek you out and share some information with you.”
“Information? Like spy information?” Rosalyn asked, rubbing her hands together.
Ursula took her one hand and let it swing between them. “Aye, like spy information. Come.” She led her to Rosalyn’s bed. The two climbed up and settled in the middle of the whimsical flower-covered comforter. Still in her linen sheath, Rosalyn shivered more out of excitement than from a chill.
“Tell me, spy, what have you uncovered?”
“Ethan is here with Bishop Passarelli,” she whispered excitedly, as if there were spies listening in from the outer passage or outside the window.
Rosalyn capped her hand over her mouth. If Ethan was here, he might challenge her claim to Fyvie. He was Nicholas Luttrell’s son, too.
“Why do you think he’s here, and why do you think the bishop is with him?”
“Good questions, but I donna have those answers. I wanted to warn you that trouble was brewing.”
“Do you think the bishop believes Lachlan has the Golden Rose? Perhaps Ethan made the bishop believe that he has it and they’ve followed us here with a plan to defame Lachlan and take everything from him.” She paused and swallowed hard. “From me.”
Ursula must have picked up on the fear in her voice for her friend put an arm about her shoulder. “Now, I didnae come here to worry you, but to warn you of what you could be facing. When the bishop and Ethan arrived, the Garter knight who is the custodian, took them to a special meeting room. The two did not even take water or rest before they walked with the knight to speak.”
Even though Ursula was trying to assure her that what she was saying was helpful, it complicated the situation even more. Rosalyn trembled now with worry.
Ursula noticed and gave her a big, sisterly hug, making Rosalyn grateful for the support. But with her da gone and her husband estranged, Rosalyn’s only hope for male support was Bishop Passarelli.
“I must speak to the bishop,” Rosalyn said finally.
“Aye, he’s the only one you can trust,” Ursula agreed.
But then Rosalyn began to think the worst. “If Lachlan, James, and Ethan are blood brothers, who’s to say they couldnae all three band against me and take back the castle that their father had stolen from my da in the first place.”
With a sober nod, Ursula gave her another hug. “Come, let me dress you to be the heiress you shall become.”
~ ~ ~
Ethan’s plan to have the Golden Rose and Fyvie was unraveling. With the news that his brother and Bishop Passarelli had arrived, he was going to have to resort to the kind of deviant behavior that would make his father proud. Walking briskly, he reached the chamber door the servants said belonged to Rosalyn.
Without knocking, he burst into the room and startled the two women inside.
Ursula stopped lacing the corset that bound Rosalyn into an emerald-colored gown that hugged all her curves in the right places.
For a moment, Ethan was speechless and so were the women. It was Ursula who responded first, returning to her work and finishing the last tie. Then she gave Rosalyn’s rump a quick pat. “There ye are, love. You are ready.” The maid turned to face him and delivered an ugly sneer. “It appears your husband wants a word with you.”
She gave Rosalyn a hug, and when the healer walked by on her way out, she watched Ethan through wary eyes. If he had been the cowardly type, he would have sworn Ursula gave him the evil eye. But he shook it off after she passed and left the chamber quietly.
“Why must you enter my room so abruptly?” Rosalyn asked. “You promised me you wouldnae treat me like property.”
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. The angrier she was, the more beautiful. Actually, if he had his way and worked his plan, she’d be angry all the time.
But Ethan had no time for love or the soft pleasantries of keeping a wife happy. Ignoring her plea, he walked toward her now, circled her waist and with one quick movement, slapped her hard across the face.