Curse of Rose de Winter

Chapter 8

"Now let's stay calm," I said, "my hair hurts."

"I really couldn't give a damn." Vaughn brought his face to mine. "You tricked Dylan and I, haven't you? Who are you? Blanche? Someone related to her? Or is there something behind this whole facade?"

He was ready to spill blood. Oh, so this was the thing Dylan said Vaughn was investigating.

"Does Dylan know?" I asked.

"No, not yet." Vaughn narrowed his pale eyes. "I'll expose you."

"There's nothing to expose. I am not Rosemarie, but I've went by for three years as Rosemarie Blackwood. I'm the Blackwood's adopted daughter."

"Don't lie to me!" Vaughn raised his low whisper.

I gave an unbothered shrug. "I'm at your hands, I can die and be exposed and killed, why would I bother lying now? Andrew Blackwood and Sarah Blackwood have been taking me in as a pseudo-daughter. They have me replace Rosemarie. They put my hair up like hers, dress me in her clothing, and call me Rosemarie."

"What?" Vaughn's hold of my hair loosened and I took it as a chance to pull away.

"I ran away when I heard of the rumor about Blanche. I didn't want to be Rosemarie anymore. I didn't think of being Blanche at all, I swear, but I thought if I married someone I could change my life." I held my hair tightly close to me. "I couldn't go out. I was always tucked in bed like a child. They never let me outside or close to water, which was how Rosemarie died. It's dreadful. I thought that since I was an adult, I could marry, and so I came."

"So you wanted to marry Rosemarie's cousin, Leroy?" Vaughn remembered my comment that first day we met.

"He was the only man I met. I knew him as the Blackwood heir and our older cousin. Rosemarie's sister, her real sister, Rosalind, could only ever dream of it, she was his real blood cousin, after all. But me—I could have what she desired, and I desired."

"Then marry him," Vaughn said, eyes now wide with excitement. "Blanche will marry Leroy then you'll be part of the family who raised you, and still meet the legal requirements."

"I don't want to marry someone who thinks I'm Blanche," I whispered. He wouldn't care.

"Nonsense?" See? "You're now one of the wealthiest heiresses in all of America! You'll be sought after and your dream cousin is going to marry you!"

"Let me sleep," I said instead.

"Tomorrow you'll see him. I'll have Irene prepare you a most seductive dress, well, it'd have to be tailored to your rather—straight body."

I glared at him.

"There's nothing wrong with not having curves, you'll keep growing. Don't be bothered over something so small."

"I'm also very upset you didn't do your research thoroughly enough. Ask their neighbors, they'll tell you of how the Blackwood couple became recluses after the death of Rosemarie and took in a girl around her age. I lied I was fifteen, and now I should be twenty. I'm twenty two. I'm really Blanche's age."

"Oh," he whispered. "I'll do more investigation then, I'll call for a private investigation into your background."

"Can you do me one favor?" I asked monotonously.

"What?"

"Let me tell Dylan the truth. Don't tell him. Not yet, I beg of you."

"I beg of you?" Vaughn snickered. "What's with the sudden formality now that you're no longer Rosemarie? Have you learned your position?"