Page 53 of A Raven Reborn

“Don’t look at me like that, Patrick. I’m not a tyrant. It’s only a few extra chores and confinement within Raven House for a week. But I am sure as hell not going to allow you in there during that time to create more problems.”

Patrick opened his mouth to argue, but there was no chance of changing Ash’s mind. When it came to Raven House, Ash was like an intractable headmistress of a girls’ school.

“May I at least send gifts?” Patrick asked.

“I’ll think about it.”

That was a yes, even though Ash kept his scowl firmly in place.

“Why don’t we head down to the club before you decide to actually drink that brandy you poured?”

ChapterEighteen

Rosalyn’s palms burned as she finished washing the last teacup and set it on the rack to dry. Everyone who lived there had daily chores in order to contribute to the running of Raven House. There were still multiple housekeepers to oversee everything, but Ash felt that by participating in the upkeep of the house, they would feel some ownership in it. This week, Iris was in charge of making sure all of the teacups were washed. Rosalyn had a whole new appreciation for what a big job that was.

Mrs. Corstairs, the housekeeper who oversaw everything kitchen related, bustled in and picked up the cups to inspect them. The first three must have been fine, but on the fourth, she stopped and turned, holding up the cup so Rosalyn could see the inside. There was a tiny, dark speck inside.

“Not clean enough for my kitchen, I’m afraid.” She placed all the cups back into the sink of water. “Maybe you’ll do a better job the second time.”

Mrs. Corstairs left, but Rosalyn continued to stare at the pile of cups in the sink in complete disbelief. She breathed in deeply and slowly let out a long breath. After repeating that three times, she set to the painful task of washing the cups all over again.

When she was sure there wasn’t a single speck on any of the cups, she waved her hands through the air to dry them. The cooling sensation soothed her palms. She still had to sweep the floors in all the common areas for Daisy, but her back, and hands, needed a break first.

Rosalyn quietly opened the door to her room. Daisy would be sleeping still, and she certainly didn’t want to wake her. A white rose sat in the middle of the chair beside Rosalyn’s bed. She picked it up and breathed in its sweet fragrance before unfolding the note that sat beneath.

A beautiful rose for my beautiful Rosie.

At first, she smiled and smelled the rose again, but slowly, cynicism set in. How many times was she going to fall for it? Why did Patrick continue to do these sweet things for her if his only intention was to send her away? She dropped the note and the rose back onto the chair and lay on her back in the middle of the bed.

Perhaps she could learn to be content here. She may have been able to do that before she’d ruined her friendship with Daisy, but it felt so lonely now.

Rosalyn turned on her side and picked up the rose from the chair. She rubbed the petals gently over her lips, remembering what it felt like to have Patrick’s against hers.

She thought back on all of the laughter they had shared, playing games, and teasing each other. He was so sweet about the food she’d made for him, savoring every single bite and raving about how delicious it was, always trying so hard to make her laugh and smile. Those were the moments she wanted to share with him again. She’d marry him in a heartbeat if it meant a lifetime of those moments.

With a sigh, she sat up and stretched. No point in wasting the whole afternoon reminiscing. She might as well get her sweeping done before everyone else woke and started preparing for their night at the club.

Rosalyn's injured palms made holding a broom nigh impossible. She'd been sure this task would be easier on her than enduring the hot water, but she'd been wrong. She tried holding the handle in a way that put less pressure on her palms, but it felt awkward, and she had no control over the broom. Perhaps gloves would help.

Rosalyn returned to her room. She rummaged quietly through her things and retrieved her gloves. When she turned to leave, Daisy was sitting on the side of her bed.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry if I woke you."

Daisy didn’t respond to the apology and simply furrowed her brow. "Ash told me you're confined to Raven House this week." Her tone was coolly disapproving.

Rosalyn didn't understand where this conversation was going. "I am," she said, hesitantly.

"You don't actually think you're going to sneak out of here, do you?"

Rosalyn felt as if she'd just walked into the middle of a conversation having no idea what it was about. "I'm not sneaking anywhere."

Daisy rolled her eyes. "Then what are the gloves for?"

"Oh!" Understanding finally dawned. "Why didn’t you just ask that in the first place? They're to protect my hands while I sweep."

The suspicion slowly faded from Daisy’s features, but then it was her turn to be confused. “What’s wrong with your hands?”

“It’s nothing, just a few scrapes.”

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