Upon a Midnight Dream (London Fairy Tales #1)(37)

The countess looked up and paled. “Rosalind? Oh, um. You came so soon my dear! I did not expect you until tomorrow at least!”

Her mother looked around her as if she wasn’t at all excited to see her eldest daughter. Disappointment clouded her features as she looked from her to Stefan and then her nostrils flared. “I take it you are both married? Considering, it simply isn’t done to travel alone on such short notice and I will not have my daughter ruined by your reckless ways, Your Grace.”

“Married?” Rosalind swallowed the guilty lump in her throat. “Mama, we didn’t need to marry. I had Mary travel along with us.”

“Mary? Your Godmother, Mary?” Her mother spat venomously. “She has been under strict orders to stay at the estate in Sussex until I call upon her to return!” Her mother folded her hands across her chest, clearly reeling.

“Are you well, mother?”

“Of course I’m not well! My daughter hasn’t lifted the curse, I have no servants to speak of considering we are only left with a pittance from the new Earl and you brought him into our house!”

Rosalind flinched as the word him flew out of her mother’s mouth like a expletive. Stefan didn’t move, nor did he curse. He merely took a step closer to Rosalind and placed his hands on her shoulders. Pulling strength from his presence—my how she had been doing a lot of that lately—she looked into her mother’s cold eyes.

“It isn’t up to you when we marry mother. Besides, he hasn’t yet asked.” She lied hoping Stefan would go along with it. She felt his hands clench her shoulders, was he trembling? The cad was trying not to laugh!

“Yes, well.” Stefan’s silky voice said behind her. “My apologies, madam. It seems I simply haven’t been able to get the words right. Each time I begin my proposal it’s as if it isn’t good enough and I must try again. I must admit to being a coward when it comes to redheads.”

Her mother glared even more looking between the two of them as if she was missing something. “Yes, well.” She put down her book and sighed. “The curse will take us all if neither of you are quick about this business.”

“You have a cold, mother. I hardly think that is the work of the some sort of ancient spell.” Rosalind said as kind as she could without smiling.

“You think this funny, my gel? Have you no respect for the dead!” The room went silent. “If you cannot marry to save me or your sister, at least marry to honor your father’s last wish, or did he mean nothing to you?”

“Watch yourself, my lady.” Stefan tensed behind Rosalind. She willed him to back down, hoping he would not make things more difficult.

A man cleared his throat, breaking the tense silence after Stefan’s announcement.

Rosalind looked to the door and smiled. “Willard! It is so good to see you after such a long time!” Her father’s old valet had apparently stayed on staff. The familiar look of his old face made Rosalind want to weep all over again. The man nodded at her and then looked to Stefan with a calculating glare.

“I see that congratulations are in order,” he said, not taking his eyes from Stefan’s.

“Well actually, we did not have need to marry just yet Willard.”

The valet’s mouth pursed into a thin hard line. “So you are not married yet, my lady? Well, this changes things, now doesn’t it? I imagine the rest of your family will continue to die, as well as the servants.” He backed out of the room, but stopped when Stefan’s voice boomed after him.

“What do you mean the rest of the servants?”

Willard looked to Rosalind’s mother for permission. At her nod, he looked back to Stefan. “Two of the young chamber maids have been ill. Both have symptoms of a sleeping disease. It takes them at inopportune times during the day, making it difficult for them to complete tasks. We’ve seen doctors. It is inexplicable. We imagine death will take them as it took my master.”

Rosalind’s heart stopped beating. The girls had her sickness? Did that mean it was contagious? Then the doctor was correct. She would surely die. Was it because of the curse? Or was it merely a coincidence?

“Daughter, you look quite ill. Are you well?” Her mother gave a cruel smile in her direction. “You must be tired. Why don’t you take a nap? Willard has some lovely tea he can give you. You remember the type? You used to drink it daily as a child.”

Rosalind’s feet were glued to the floor. Unable to do anything except look into her mother’s cruel eyes. A face filled with pain and bitterness. How had her family come to this?

“Where’s Isabelle?” Rosalind’s voice was weak.

“Around. The girl is such a disappointment, crying in her room daily because of her father’s death, while I’m sitting here lamenting the selfish daughter I raised who refuses to do this one thing! But of course, I’m sure Isabelle would love to hear your important reasons for not marrying, my dear.”

“Excuse me.” Rosalind swept out of the room; blindly she walked down the hall not knowing in which direction to go. Warm salty tears streamed down her face. Strong arms pulled her out of the hallway.

“Tsk, tsk, Rose. We can’t have you crying anymore. You don’t want me thinking I can use your sadness to my advantage by seducing you out of the doldrums.”

Even as Stefan spoke the words, his hands were gentle as he pushed fallen hair from her face and tilted her chin upwards with his warm hand.