“So, who is his master?” her aunt inquired curiously. It was evident that Rose was hiding something, and she knew that she’d better tell them the whole truth.
“The Duke of Montford,” Rose said without hesitation, deciding that it would be better to simply state his name quickly.
Her aunt’s eyes widened in shock, but she didn’t say anything, so Rose hastily continued.
“I was in the woods that border with his estate, gathering herbs as you told me to, when I stumbled onto a boar, and he saved me,” Rose revealed, adding more details and shedding light on her adventure from the previous night.
“Well, I’m glad that’s all over,” her aunt said once Rose brought her story to an end. “You don’t have to see that terrible man again.”
Rose bit her lower lip. That bought her a few more seconds, after which she divulged the duke’s offer.
“The duke, he uhm… offered me a position in his mansion as a maid,” Rose told her aunt, knowing that her brother was listening as well.
As she finished recounting her encounter with the duke, her aunt’s expression once again shifted from concern to shock. The mention of the duke’s involvement seemed to bring forth a flood of memories, tinged with bitterness and resentment.
Her aunt paused, her hands stilling as she processed what she had just heard. “Your late uncle used to work for that man, before he was let go.”
The bitterness in her aunt’s voice was palpable, and Rose knew exactly why. It was a reflection of the lingering resentment that simmered beneath the surface of the village’s collective consciousness. Like many in the village, her aunt harbored a deep-seated mistrust of the duke, viewing him as a callous and fickle man who had little regard for the welfare of the villagers.
“The duke didn’t care at all about the consequences of his actions,” her aunt continued, her voice brimming with bitterness which she wasn’t even trying to hide. “He let go of so many good people upon his return, including your uncle, without a second thought. So many people whose lives depended on thatemployment. Just imagine, Rose, so many families left destitute because of the whims of one man.”
Rose listened in silence, her heart heavy with the weight of her aunt’s words. She had heard similar sentiments echoed throughout the village, whispered conversations and murmured grievances that painted a damning portrait of the duke’s character.
But as she sat there, her mind awash with conflicting emotions and beliefs, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the story than met the eye. She had seen a glimpse of something beneath the surface of the duke’s façade, a vulnerability that belied the rumors and hearsay that surrounded him.
She wanted to tell her aunt that the duke wasn’t the monster they all thought him to be. How could he be? He saved her. He took care of her. He showed tenderness and concern. No monster had that in him. However, Rose knew better than to argue with her aunt about that man.
“I know all of that, Aunt Cora,” Rose nodded.
“I know you do, my dear,” her aunt nodded, her voice followed by a gentle caution, a subtle warning that lingered in the air, like a whisper of caution in the middle of a storm. “I also know that you are a strong and independent young woman, but… you should decide carefully.”
The warning hung in the air between them, unspoken but unmistakable. There was a subtle shift in her aunt’s demeanor, a silent plea for caution that spoke volumes without the need for further elaboration.
“There is nothing to decide,” Henry suddenly interfered, getting up from his chair and pacing about the room.
Rose followed him with her gaze. This was one of those moments when memories of their parents flooded her, catching her off guard. The older Henry was, the more he looked like their father. Rose could see her father’s eyes in Henry’s, her father’s mannerisms, in some of the things Henry did. It was a bittersweet moment, reminding her of what they had lost.
“What do you mean?” Rose wondered.
“Exactly what I said,” Henry replied, turning to her. He was frowning, obviously displeased with what he had just heard. “Don’t tell me that you are actually considering working for that monster?”
Rose lifted an eyebrow. “He is a man, like any other, Henry.”
“Unlikely,” Henry corrected her. “None of us here are personally responsible for the downfall of dozens of families in the village.”
“I’ve always believed that everyone was responsible for their own fate,” Rose said.
“That is true only when one belongs to the higher ranks of society,” Henry said with disdain. “We are not that fortunate, and neither is anyone else in the village. Besides, who is to say that he won’t let you go shortly after you start working there, just like he did everyone else?”
Rose had to admit that she hadn’t been considering that option. She simply shrugged. “I will come back here and continue helping aunt with her healing business, as I’ve been doing so far.”
Henry shook his head, a look of incredulity cutting her. “His reputation is black as tar, Rose. Or have you forgotten that?”
Rose had to get up this time, but she immediately felt disoriented. She rested on a nearby table, proceeding to remain on her feet, at the same level as her brother. “I haven’t forgotten anything, Henry. It would seem that it is you who has forgotten our dire circumstances and that we need the money. We cannot afford to be picky about the jobs we do.”
“We don’t need help of such… men,” Henry snorted angrily.
At least he didn’t call him a monster this time, Rose thought to herself. That was a slight improvement.
