Curse of Rose de Winter

Chapter 12

The next day was similarly uneventful. Dylan and I grew distant, at my will, but Vaughn only got closer, unpleasantly close.

"Did you tell Dylan about your identity, Blanche?" He was fine calling me Blanche, he rarely said Rose, in fact, I think he only did once or twice.

"I want to tell him when everything has calmed down," I murmured. "Caralette has been a big problem lately, hasn't it?"

The two women recently seem to be in cahoots to bother Vaughn constantly, with Scarlett flirting and Claribel masking him constantly to have tea with them. I suppose she was doing this for Scarlett, maybe she was just too bored. Even so, I had realized she didn't care for Ruby at all despite the acting on the first day. Now she never gave her a glance.

"Listen carefully now, you fake," Vaughn snapped, obviously offended, "I'm guessing Dylan slipped that nickname to you, but say it in public and I'll have your neck. You don't even matter without your five years of marriage, and I'm not willing to wait."

"Dylan promised he would protect me," I relayed calmly.

"Dylan, huh?" Vaughn smirked, as if the matter was very funny to him.

"What?" I asked, insistent now. Wait, maybe he knew it. "Do you know about the white dress?"

"Men always love white on women, maybe because it's like a sundress or wedding dress, or no, Ophelia herself! Yes, Snow White, Ophelia, they were always wearing white. Why?" Vaughn was about to go on a tangent again.

"No, you useless lawyer. Listen up, Dylan knew a girl. His first love, I suppose. She wore white. Also, she died by drowning five years ago and was named Rose, short for Rosemarie Blackwood."

Vaughn stopped and leaning his head back, blinked slowly to make sense of this seemingly otherworldly coincidence.

"So he knows you aren't really Rosemarie."

"No, he doesn't know her name was Rosemarie, or she was a Blackwood. I don't know how, but he knew this Rose only, well, vaguely." I looked down at my red heels, this time with kitten heels and straps. "I think Dylan liked Rose—who I replaced."

Vaughn stretched at his shaven jaw and pretended it wasn't a big deal. It was something I noticed him doing in awkward moments, therefore every breakfast or dinner with Caralette.

"I'm sorry, but do me a favor, Vaughn. Let me talk to Dylan. And, if you can, go to the Blackwoods and investigate the real Rose."

"I'll get a private investigator on it," he replied.

With that, we parted ways from inside the large room that was a storage room but Dylan made into a guest room for only Vaughn so far.

"Oh, I also wanted to tell you something," Vaughn said as I stood at the door, "Olivia, Angelina, and Constance de Winter will be coming in a few days. They'll be finding an excuse to fiddle with the will to their benefit because Austen can't do it."

I felt sorry for Austen, and thought of his beautiful wife and daughters. There was an ominous feelings but I only gave a curt nod before I left Vaughn's place.

One day I would have to tell Dylan I took his Rose's identity. She had died to save a life, yet I took her empty place and lived in luxury, lying to her family and everyone. But the saddest thing was—I wasn't Rose.

If there really was a curse of Snow and Rose, I wish it could've fallen on me instead of Rosemarie or Blanche. It was the only way I could atone.

The next day an incident happened. Early in the morning I had left after I got dressed by Irene to see Dylan and ask about what I should do when Angelina and Constance came.