Curse of Rose de Winter

Chapter 26

We walked outside and the temperature was just perfect. He told Irene to tell Vaughn he'd be back soon, and outside, he stretched his arms before cuffing his long sleeved shirt.

I was good with my breezy green skirt and white top. My clothes seemed to increase each day, whether it was Irene buying it for me, or Dylan ordering it for me.

"You seem unhappy," Dylan said, ready to get on track. We walked around the green trees and I looked up, tilting my head back.

"I like the way it is. You, me, Ruby, and Calvin. Even Vaughn, I suppose."

"It's great you're adjusting to being Blanche, then." He didn't seem to catch my drift.

"I am surprised, I never thought this would be your life."

"My life?" he echoed, looking at me in surprise. I only laughed and nodded.

"I saw you. Not often, but always on Rose's death anniversary. The family would leave to go to her grave and I would have a day I could walk around. I never walked far, but I saw that lake. You walked to a certain place and always laid down a hand-picked bouquet."

I looked at his face, the flickering of the eyes and tensing of his facial muscles. It must've been a painful memory. What did he think of? The true Rose, or the painting of Ophelia as she drifted in the water?

I suppose if he knew she was Rosemarie Blackwood he would be at the grave instead—funny how fate lead him so close to the estate.

And there I often thought of him.

It was a foolish thought—oh, look, a boy with unrequited feelings. But he came diligently, day after day, in a simple brown checkered jacket, in a long black coat, decked out with a suit, summer or winter. I saw him, and I wanted to know him.

Then I escaped to the de Winter house foolishly, hoping for some help or refuge from whoever succeeded Auguste. At the time I was really confused when a familiar face came, and when he revealed himself as his first son.

"Did you know I was Dylan, Dylan de Winter?" he asked. I shook my head.

"I didn't realize until a while later, I think when the reading of the will happened. I realized then, and when Vaughn forced me to tell you who I was, I suspected it. It was such a cruel twist of fate." I began to tear up, but my voice stayed stable. "I'm sorry I'm not the Rose you wanted."

"No." Dylan reached out an arm and hugged me.

It wasn't suffocating, but a very loose and mellow hug. If I closed my eyes I would've imagined it was Rosalind or just a friend, but my heart was racing. The metaphor never seemed to make sense but now it did: my chest was full of birds fluttering their wings and making the trees around us rustle. I felt my whole being shaken up.

"Do you want me, as Blanche, to marry?" My hands tightened and I thought of the party and ball. The men. Abraham. Leroy. "What if I liked someone not included in the will?"

"So—is he excluded?" Dylan was understanding what I meant.

"How do you feel about me?"

I had completely skipped questions one and two and dove straight to three. This wasn't like me, I always planned conversations so they went the way I wanted. But I turned to see him, expecting maybe disgust, but he caught my arm and stopped moving.

Catching my breath, I looked at his hurt face. His mouth opened and he had to think for a long time.

"Your feelings—they are not not reciprocated."

The double negative confused me until I understood.

I wondered why the two of us seemed so sad, if that was so. The wind wind and the leaves whistled a song, his longish hair floating before I dared to reach out and comb it back.

"Dylan."

Sometimes I wondered why I stayed in the crooked house, with Claribel and Scarlett and even Olivia laughing behind me. Ruby happy with Connie and Angel crushing on Dylan.

It felt heavy every night, leaving Ruby snuggling in her bed with a soft furrow of her brows. Irene would whisper as I woke there in the morning cold, straighten my hair with the iron, split ends visible now, and pull another dress over me.

I've dreamed of this, wearing grown up dresses unlike Rose, being so free and able to marry any bachelor with my own inheritance and status.

In my hometown boys and men knew me as the poor girl to have a good time with. Sometimes they paid me, sometimes they didn't. It didn't matter to me back then: I knew they thought nothing of me, but I craved love.

When I saw Dylan's face I realized how wrong I was back then, and wished he would never learn about my past and most importantly, the fact I knew Auguste. The man he loathed was the one who lead me to Rose's identity. To Dylan.

"I don't want to marry," I whimpered as all those thoughts merged in my mind. "What do you think of me, Dylan?"

"I think you're a strong woman. The strongest woman I've ever seen, who blends with her world like a chameleon, and yet so mysterious." He stayed with an arm hovering at my waist. "Sometimes I see guilt or fear in your eyes, but I don't want to pry deeper. No, I do, but I don't want you to leave me because of me."

"I wouldn't leave you." But I wouldn't tell him about the truth. About Auguste and my strange relationship. Would Dylan forgive me?

"And I respect you." His voice was like the low hum of a violin. "For staying in this chaotic house, pretending to be Blanche, and telling me your past. Vaughn must've been scary, sometimes he scared me, even." He gave a sad laugh.

Although Dylan desperately tried to avoid it, and ventured on about Vaughn, I felt the dread like a pearl I swallowed. It was in my throat and settled temporarily in my stomach before rising again each time I tried to speak.

"And of course if Ruby likes you I can trust you with my siblings too. I suppose it says something about your gentle character."

"But what do you think of me?" I was slightly more aggressive. "You, Dylan."

He withdrew his arm and stood facing me, like he was only a—a friend. Or sibling.

"Rose, you're someone I want to protect."

I laughed drily, but somehow, I expected this.

"Because I'm Blanche?"

"No, our time together made me realize many things." Dylan touched my hair but I didn't slap him away this time. "I enjoyed seeing you laugh, or smile, banter with Vaughn, and be so good at talking. I admire you."

"I'm nothing admirable," I muttered.

"You also stir up strange emotions in me," he whispered, voice a bit like a little boy's, so confused at his own feelings, and I looked at his face. His gaze fell downwards but flitted up to my eyes before staying there.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"I don't want you to be unhappy. Please find happiness with what you can. I want you to use your money for yourself."

"So I'll have to marry." I kept my face as still as I could though my fists shook. "I'll be happy as long I'm rich—you think." I'm such a cheap woman in his eyes. Nothing had ever changed.

"No, I want you to be happy, with me by your side, and Ruby and more friends, even Leroy. I just want to be cautious."

"But what will you be as you're by my side?" I snapped.

He didn't waver as he answered.

"As a brother."

I hit his arm by accident?—or maybe on purpose as I tried to run away from where his body was, off into the green grass and away from the cursed house.

I only saw a field, almost fairy-tale like, but I didn't feel like a Princess or anything. This spring was the coldest spring I've yet to live.