The Vanity of Roses Page 3

  In truth, I hoped to watch her from the shadows like I’d always done as a kid. It would be interesting to judge her behavior after ten years hidden away. I was sure she expected to return to her pampered position within the family. It was unfortunate for her that wouldn’t be happening.

  “What will you do to her? I know you still blame Lisbeth for your mother’s death.”

  While we’d never discovered exactly what happened the night of the ball, the fallout from the slaughter of so many esteemed members of society hadn’t been easy. Investigations were made, accusations were tossed across networks, and nobody was certain how it was possible for so many to be killed when many were armed and could have fought back.

  Hell, I still wasn’t sure how I’d ended up asleep but alive within all the chaos.

  All we knew was that over a hundred people were dead, many families entirely wiped out because none of them had young children who would have been watched somewhere else, and the only people missing were Lisbeth and her mother.

  We’d assumed it was an abduction, possibly a ploy to earn money through a high dollar ransom, but when no demands were received, we weren’t entirely sure what Lisbeth’s disappearance meant.

  But I knew she had something to do with what occurred that night, and if not for her, my mother would still be alive.

  For that, the bitch had a world of hurt coming.

  “I’m not sure yet. Let me think on it. I have a few days to decide what I want to do.”

  I moved to stand, but Franklin’s voice stopped me.

  “Will you throw her to the fighters? Make her a whore for the pit?”

  My jaw clenched at the thought. It would be so easy to toss her to the wolves and laugh while her body was used and her spirit broken, but the thought of it forced my hands to clench into fists. For so many years, she had been the pinnacle of beauty in my world, even if her behavior never matched the fairness of her skin.

  I wasn’t willing to toss her anywhere until I knew for sure what she’d become in the ten years since I’d last seen her.

  “It’s an option,” I stated matter of fact, my refusal to commit to a decision causing Franklin to laugh.

  “Perhaps you should be the one to break her in.”

  I pushed to my feet, finished with the conversation. “Perhaps,” was all I said in response.

  Leaving Franklin to his newspaper and whatever else he had planned for the day, I left the room and wove a few more halls to change clothes and get ready for a workout that would be much more brutal now that I knew Lisbeth was returning.

  Lisbeth

  “Where would you like these suitcases to be stored? We can secure them in a closet near the lobby while you wait.”

  Glancing up at the hotel concierge, I forced a smile on my face even though I felt nothing but shame. It was impossible to say how I’d ended up at this point, impossible to understand how I’d been born into a life with no worries of the future only to find myself at twenty-seven with less than fifty dollars to my name and nothing to show for it.

  “The closet will be fine. Thank you. My uncle said someone would be here within the hour to pick me up.”

  Never in my life had I been so washed up and desperate. If my mother weren’t already dead, I would kill her myself for the mess she left me in: Penniless with no hope of earning money on my own. My mother had bled our accounts before leaving this life, had continued to live lavishly while we were on the run. And for what? To save my life? To escape the man my father had promised me to on my seventeenth birthday?

  I never understood how my mother knew I’d be sent off or why my father would have done such a thing. It wasn’t like he needed money or would owe somebody a favor so large he could only pay it with his daughter’s body.

  But mom had insisted what she did was for the best. She never told me the man’s name or why he was so dangerous, just kept shuttling me around from place to place until there was nothing left for us to live on. She pointed to the death of so many people at the party as proof that the man to whom my father sold me was a psychopath. She claimed he’d lost his mind to learn that I was gone.

  I didn’t know how she’d managed to pull me from the party. In one minute, I was talking with Eleanor about her plans for school, and in the next, I was waking up in a room I didn’t recognize with my mother pacing near a window.

  And then, after ten years of hiding me away, mom had died and left me to manage her mess on my own.

  If not for my uncle, I would be on the streets tonight. The hotel manager had been kind when he came to my room. He hadn’t laughed or smiled to tell me he could no longer allow me to stay here without some form of payment. He’d looked embarrassed, if anything, for me, for himself, for having to explain that businesses weren’t run on acts of kindness.

  When I called Franklin, I’d been desperate for a loan. He’d insisted on coming out to meet me, had gone on and on about how worried the surviving members of my family had been.

  It surprised me to learn he knew nothing of my whereabouts, that he didn’t know of the accounts my mother used to fund our escape, he only knew that my debutant ball had turned into a slaughter and I was presumed dead when they couldn’t find me.

  For ten years, my mother swore that Franklin would turn around and give me to that man. She’d refused to contact him, had lost her mind every time I mentioned it. My fingers shook when I dialed his number, but after meeting with him, I was beginning to believe that something had been wrong with my mother.

  Maybe she’d lost her mind, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was Franklin had swept in here as fast as he could to invite me back to the Rose estate, practically begging me to return. The man was falling all over himself, and I couldn’t tell him no.

  Not that I was in a position to have declined his invitation. It was that or the streets. My decision was easy.

  I couldn’t deny I was looking forward to returning home. Despite the accounts my mother had kept, our lives hadn’t been lived in the lap of luxury. Not like my childhood had been where I’d wanted for nothing and had everything at my fingertips.

  Including him...a boy that drove me crazy at all times because he refused to look at me and refused to speak. Callan always did everything I demanded without fighting back, and it drove me mad that he wouldn’t argue or complain. I’d hated him by the time I turned seventeen, but I’d still cried when I learned that he was dead. Mom told me that not even the servants had survived the slaughter.

  I don’t know why I’d reacted to his silence by abusing him over and over. I simply couldn’t stand the way he behaved. But then that night, he finally met my eyes, he held them in such a bold stare while he finished my drink that I’d felt a knot in my throat, a flutter in my gut, and I’d walked away as fast as I could after the things I’d said to him. I’d wanted him to hurt.

  And it was the last thing he’d ever heard from me.

  “Miss Rose.”

  My head snapped up from the last bag I was packing. I didn’t have much; I’d sold most of it already to get where I was.

  In the doorway, a woman stood in a hotel uniform. A simple tan skirt that fell to her knees and a white blouse that flowed over her arms. Her hair was pinned up in a prim knot, and she smiled down at me with eyes that were much older than mine, the skin beneath them stained with dark circles as if she worked too much.

  “Your car is here. Mr. Thornston asked that I come up to escort you out.”

  Embarrassment painted my cheeks a heated pink. I was to be escorted out, as if I could possibly hide in a little back room somewhere with the hope that nobody would find me. She delivered the message as if it had been a kindness, but we both knew I was able to manage on my own and had no need to be shown to the door. I wasn’t a young child or blind in any way. I could find the damn door myself.

  Still, I smiled as if her offer was a simple matter of manners and fine hospitality, a service the hotel offered to all its guests.

  “Thank you. I just have t
his one last suitcase to pack.”

  Her brows rose. “Oh? Would you like me to have someone carry it behind us?”

  I scowled, her feigned courtesy too much for me. “It’s not heavy. I think I can manage it myself.”

  Nodding, the woman checked her wristwatch as if she couldn’t get me out of there fast enough. If I didn’t hurry, she might tap her toe a few times before finally trudging over to take me by the arm and throw me out.

  “All done,” I said, zipping the bag closed and pushing to my feet.

  Offering me a half-hearted grin, the woman remained by the door, following after me when I walked through and down the hall. It was an awkward companionship on the elevator and through the lobby, a concierge already at the car loading my meager belongings into the trunk.

  At the back passenger door, a chauffeur stood waiting, his black suit pristine, as was expected by the Rose family, his eyes taking me in as if he couldn’t believe I was someone worthy of his time.

  Sure, I didn’t look the part of the extravagant long lost daughter. I wore a pair of black wool slacks, my light blue shirt had wrinkles, and my hair was tossed up on my head in a haphazard mess after I’d been annoyed with its length while packing. But that didn’t mean this man had to stare at me like I wasn’t good enough for the back seat of his car. It wasn’t like I hadn’t bathed for days, my odor offensive.

  I gave him a polished smile, an expression my parents would have been proud of, but even that didn’t wipe the stern look from his face.

  Since when did Franklin sends thugs to pick me up? My chauffeur as a child had been a kind man. He’d never looked at me as if I were worthless. But then maybe they’d had to hire thugs as all their servants after the incident where so many heads of families had been gunned down.

  Everybody who was anybody had been at that party, and I’m sure the lack of security hadn’t looked good for my family. Undoubtedly, the businesses and other networks managed by those families had been in chaos for years after they all died.

  Giving up on appeasing the chauffeur, I stepped forward for him to open the door. He did so slowly, unconcerned that I might be impatient while waiting for him to do his job.

  “Miss Rose,” he addressed me as I slid past him to sit on the leather seat. I inclined my head and said a curt thank you before he closed the door.

  The car moved forward smoothly, and within another five minutes I was on my way back to a house I never thought I’d see again.

  The moment we turned off a main road and began the long trek down the winding drive that led to the ornate front gates, I blew out a breath and rounded my shoulders, my pulse thudding in my throat as we rolled up to the gates and I saw the large metallic rose that branched out from its stem to creates the bars of the gate, thorns sharp along each one.

  The gates opened, a slow crawl to the right and left, and then we were moving again to continue the drive to the house.

  Not much had changed in the time I was away. My parents had loved to play on our last name and had dressed the gardens in large trellises of climbing roses of every color. They’d created individual beds of large bushes and had fashioned a hedge maze with the fragrant blooms.

  The front of the four story mansion had more blooms climbing up the height of it, the perfume of roses so strong that I couldn’t help but lower my window and breathe it in.

  A chill wind blew in our direction as if to fill the car with the memories of my former home.

  Glancing up at the large front doors that were arched on top, I admired the curving stairs that glistened beneath lamps with fire instead of light bulbs. Every light in the house was on, the windows emitting a warm amber glow.

  The car came to a stop, and the driver stepped out to open my door. I hadn’t taken one step toward the house before Uncle Franklin stepped out with three men standing behind him.

  I climbed the stairs and stepped into his embrace while those men ran down to the car to fetch my things.

  “It’s good to have you home, Lisbeth. We were so worried when you disappeared.”

  At the hotel, I’d refused to give him the full story of what happened to me, too afraid that what my mother said had been true. I didn’t need the confirmation that my father had sold me off as nothing more important than another one of his possessions.

  “It’s good to be home.”

  Franklin held me at arm’s length, and I couldn’t help but notice how young he looked despite his age. He was still a strong man, much taller than me, his dark hair more silver than I remembered while his grey eyes were sharp as tacks.

  “You look beautiful. But then I always knew you’d grow into a gorgeous woman. It’s why we protected you so much when you were a child.”

  His palm touched my cheek, and he tilted my head more toward the light. “We were always afraid someone would come along and drag you away-“

  Voice trailing off, he shook his head. “It’s best not to talk about such depressing things. We should be celebrating your arrival.”

  Wrapping an arm around my waist, he led me to the front door.

  “Come. Let me show you the suites we kept for you with the hope you would return. Everything from your childhood is just as you left it. I wouldn’t allow them to clean the rooms out.”

  My shoulders relaxed at the thought nothing had changed. I was looking forward to a comfortable bed and closets full of clothes. I hadn’t grown much since the day I’d left, and I knew the majority would still fit.

  Any makeup I had would have to be thrown out. Certainly it had expired after ten years. But it could be replaced, and I almost cried at the idea that I wouldn’t have to wonder how I’d feed myself in the coming days.

  I was practically floating as Franklin walked me inside the house, my eyes taking in the dark marble floors with silver striations, the floor to ceiling windows in the distance that I knew led to the interior courtyards.

  To my sides, large doors opened to a sitting room on the right and a music room on the left, and in front of me was the grand staircase with two sides curving toward each other to combine at the top, the marble a pristine snow white with gold that was the exact opposite of the floors. Dark iron banisters led up to cherry wood handrails, and the balcony stretched out to where the entire family could stand and greet their guests.

  My eyes stopped as I followed the line of the balcony.

  There in the shadows stood a man looking down. I couldn’t see his face for the darkness that hid him, but I could tell he was tall and broad, his arms stretched out on either side of him, hands gripping the rails.

  He was an imposing figure that didn’t move as Franklin continued leading me through the foyer, a man that never spoke yet watched my arrival.

  I almost tripped over my own feet, but Franklin’s arm tightened around my waist to balance me where I stood.

  “Are you all right?”

  It took effort to pull my gaze from the man, a shy smile tilting my mouth to look at my uncle. “Yes. Sorry, I just -“

  I looked up again, and the man was gone, as if he’d never been there to begin with.

  Shaking away the oddity of his presence, I laughed it off. “I think I’m just tired.”

  Franklin grinned. “Let me show you to your rooms. You can take a long bath and rest up. There’s nothing for you to worry about here. You’re home now, Lisbeth.”

  Lisbeth

  It will take time to settle into this place.

  I kept telling myself that, kept repeating those words as a mantra when I woke up on the first day home and couldn’t force myself to crawl from bed.

  Exhausted from the months of worry while my accounts ran dry and I believed I had nowhere to run, I’d spent the first day watching as my old life was reconstructed around me. Breakfast, lunch and dinner were brought to me in bed while maids hurried to bring in fresh towels and toiletries.

  Everything old was taken from my rooms and replaced with new soaps, shampoos, bath oils and other luxuries I didn’t necessarily
want or need. I didn’t begrudge the staff, though. They were only doing their job. However, a few hours undisturbed would have been preferable, just so I could adjust to the fact that I was home again and no longer on the run.

  By the second day, I felt brave enough to venture out of my suite of rooms. And while the bones of the house were the same, the air it breathed felt rancid.

  My fingers chased over the chair rails of the walls, my eyes admired the stained glass windows inset within the numerous nooks and alcoves that were never used often but would be a good spot for anyone seeking to read a book while relaxing on the tufted sofas.

  It escaped me how ornate the interior details of the mansion were, how those same details had been the first to become hazy in my mind over the last ten years. Reacquainted with them now, I understood just how magical my life had been up until the night of my ball.

  Finding my way downstairs, I walked past a door and heard two distinct voices; one male, one female. It was a pillow whisper followed by sensual laughter that caught my attention and left me curious. I knew it was rude to peek inside that room, but the door was cracked, and I found myself flattening a palm against the wood to peer through at the source of the noise.

  Behind me, footsteps approached from a distance. I turned, my cheeks pink from embarrassment for having been caught spying, only to see that someone had turned down another hall.

  Leaving the lovers to their games, I walked to the hall to see who might have caught me, but it was empty, the footsteps gone as if I’d imagined the entire thing.

  It was like that the rest of the day.

  No matter where I went, I felt watched, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, my skin prickling in response. I assumed the staff must have been curious about the long lost daughter now home, but they didn’t stare at me openly or ask many questions.

  Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling.

  Lunchtime rolled around, and I spent it with Franklin in the dining room. He was cautious when answering many of my questions, his demeanor somewhat rushed and distracted, like he had somewhere else to be. But he was pleasant and cordial, several times suggesting that I make myself at home as much as possible and spend some time in the gardens.