Rose in the Dark - Logan Fox Page 0,1

a married woman, I’m sure she knows exactly what happens behind these doors.

What used to, before Rose.

As if my thoughts touch her, the tiny bundle inside its crib begins howling like a banshee. My eyes slide shut. I force a deep breath into my chest and spread my fingers out so they don’t bunch into fists. “I’m afraid that’s the only sound she makes these days,” I say.

I expect to see Pippa standing in shock, perhaps running back the way we came. No one — no one — can endure this infernal screeching.

But when I open my eyes, Pippa is beside the crib, a wide smile on her mouth as she peeks inside. “May I?” she asks, although she’s already reaching inside.

I run my hand through my hair, shaking my head. “It won’t make a difference. Mrs. Potter’s tried on numerous occasions to quieten the lass, but she just—”

Rose lets out an ear-piercing shriek, tiny fists balled as if she wants to pummel Pippa to death. The young woman simply slips an arm under her and cradles her to her chest. Rose hiccups, takes another massive breath, and goes quiet. Pippa starts bouncing the little bundle in her arms, crooning wordlessly to Rose’s red face.

Witchcraft.

There’s simply no other explanation.

Rose lets out another odd little noise, and then reaches for Pippa’s face with a bright red hand.

“The fire left its mark on—” I begin, dropping my gaze.

“Ssh.”

When I look up, Pippa has a finger raised, to one side. Shushing me. Me. I bristle, but then my eyes dart down to little Rose’s bright red face, and the stiffness in my shoulders melts away.

“She’s hungry,” Pippa says quietly. She glances over her shoulder at me. “Where’s her bottle?”

I open my mouth, and then close it again. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought you’d get this far.”

The woman’s brown eyes narrow a little. She shrugs at me. “Well, I have. But this poor thing’s starved.”

“Because it refuses to eat!”

Rose hiccups in fright as my voice booms out, and then bursts into tears again. I can’t hear the words, but there’s no mistaking the way Pippa’s lips form the word, “It?”

I pivot and storm out of my room. I wrench open the landing door and bellow down the stairs, “Bring the bottles!” I slam the door and sink down into my seat. It was a fluke, of course. The child had simply been surprised by a stranger. She was back to her demonic ways, howling day in and day out, and spitting up everything anyone can get in that little mouth.

I’d been too eager, accepting the first candidate the agency sent my way.

Pippa Goodwin will be gone come the morrow.

2

Pippa

I’m staring down at the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. When I’d first lifted Rose from her crib, I’d almost cried out when I saw the hot red flush covering her tiny face. Could it be a birthmark?

But now all I see are her eyes. Big, bright, and blue. Hypnotizing.

My heart is still thundering from the baron’s outburst, but as soon as I lock eyes with this tiny thing in my arms, I forget all about him.

I manage to quieten her moments after Sir Brandon leaves the room. Honestly, I’m not surprised. As much of a gentleman as he makes out to be, his commanding presence fills the room like a thick, suffocating fog. His temperament is fair enough, but with his thick, wild brows and piercing blue eyes, my initial impression was of a barely-tamed beast rather than a highly esteemed baron.

When I applied for this position, the information the agency grudgingly provided was sparse. A recently widowed gentleman required a nanny for his infant child. They claimed to have no information on how the Lady of the house passed, nor were they precisely certain where the manor lay. They were, however, adamant about a single fact: my services were required through winter, and the single road leading to the manor was impassable after the first snow. In fact, other than ensuring that I had the required experience, this seemed the caveat they were most concerned about.

Four months. A week — perhaps less — to change my mind, should I wish.

Why on earth I would change my mind, God only knows. Although the manor is dour beyond belief, the wages easily compensate for the fact that I will only return to civilization next quarter.

Honestly, I couldn’t be happier. Here, no one knows who I am.

No one knows what I’ve done.

This chance at a clean slate