White Hawk [Temporarily on hold]

Chapter 5

“Have you managed to find a proper dress yet?”

Rosalia forced a small smile on her face as she looked down at her mother. Calista Eldon had taken to her bed two weeks prior, complaining of feeling ill. In reality, the recently widowed woman was beginning to pine away. Rosalia feared for her mother’s health. With Macnair’s official proposal during the Reading a week ago, (as he had previously not made an official proposal to her in public), and the wedding date only four and a half weeks away, events had gotten hectic. As a result, Rosalia had been unable to spend much time with her mother, though she cherished the moments she did have.

“No, Mother. It is still early.”

Calista blinked, stretching out a feeble hand to grasp her daughter’s. “I want to be able to see it though...”

“You will see it, Mother. At the wedding.”

A cough wracked the woman’s thin frame. “I don’t know, darling,” she said softly. “I’m not sure of anything anymore.” Rosalia frowned.

“Mother-”

“My body grows weaker by the day. I’d like to think I am strong enough to survive a broken heart but this...I can’t shake the growing darkness.”

“Don’t talk like this,” Rosalia whispered, clutching at her mother’s hand desperately.

Calista’s gaze was apologetic. “I am only preparing you for what may come to pass...”

“But you’ll be there for my wedding...you have to be! Otherwise...”

“Otherwise?”

Rosalia worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. “Mother, I can’t marry Lord Macnair,” she blurted. Her mother chuckled.

“You’re afraid to be married. Don’t worry, every woman is, but it will be the greatest joy-”

“I absolutely abhor the man. He is a vile, arrogant pig, Mother. And he’s so secretive...I think he may be hiding something.”

“Nonsense. All of these silly notions of yours...this is no way to be speaking of your future husband! I’m sure it’s just the stress of recent events. It is rather poor timing for a wedding after all...and with your father’s passing so close before...” Calista’s eyes dulled, the momentary amusement gone.

“Mother?” Calista did not respond, her glazed eyes fixed on the ceiling of her bedchamber. Rosalia sighed; when her mother fell into one of these moods, there was no drawing her from her thoughts until Calista came to on her own. Rosalia gently pressed a kiss to her mother’s forehead, before standing and releasing her grip on her mother’s hand. She smoothed the graying hair from her mother’s face, and stood there, gazing at the ill woman.

“How is she?”

Rosalia turned, spotting Andrew poking his head into the room. “Not well, I’m afraid,” she replied, her voice quiet. Slipping from the room, she let her gaze fall to the floor. “She’s certain she will not last long enough to see my wedding day; my father’s death was too large a blow, I’m afraid. I’m losing her...” Tears prickled at her eyes, and she felt Andrew’s arms slowly draw her into a comforting embrace. “Andrew, why? Why my father? Why Mother now? And why must I be married to him?”

“I don’t always have the answers, Rosie...I wish I did, but I just don’t.” Andrew’s voice rumbled deep in his chest, reassuring in her ear, which was pressed to him. She listened to his heartbeat for a moment, before Andrew spoke again. “I do have half of an answer though. It seems your suspicions were correct - about your father’s death being unnatural.”