The Lacey Chronicles #3: The Rogue's Princess by Eve Edwards

Author:Eve Edwards
Language: eng
Format: mobi, pdf
Tags: Romance, Juvenile Fiction, Love & Romance, Young Adult, Historical
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

chapter 10

“What’s happened to Rosie?” Grandmother Isham asked

Mercy for the twentieth time that day.

Mercy tucked a blanket around the old woman. The milky surface of one of Gran’s eyes had grown worse over the last two months since Rose had left, and Mercy suspected that she was now almost blind, which added to the confusion not to have her favorite child with her.

“She’s housekeeping for Master Porter. You remember him, Gran, don’t you? He called by last evening to bring you word.

When the weather gets better, he’ll take you to see Aunt Rose.”

Grandmother pawed at the blankets. “But why can’t she come here? I want her.”

Mercy sighed, trying not to shoulder the blame for her aunt’s absence. Rose had been right: the matter had been between her father and her aunt and Mercy’s part in it was incidental. The only person who appeared happy with the change was Faith, who appreciated having her kingdom of the kitchen to herself. Still, it didn’t stop Mercy feeling bad about the situation. “Aunt Rose can’t come just at the moment, but she made this broth and sent it this morning. Would you like some?”

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Grandmother shook her head, her eyes watering. “No, I want my Rosie.”

Mercy’s father came in from the street in time to hear Grandmother’s last words. He glanced at Mercy then looked uneasily about the room. The balance in their relationship had shifted of late; Mercy no longer folded so quickly under a disapproving look, and he had begun to avoid her gaze when it came to matters concerning her aunt and grandmother.

“Where’s your sister?” he asked, hanging his hat by the door.

“Visiting Mistress Kingsley. She was delivered of a stillborn child yesterday.” Mercy put the cup of broth back on the warming ledge by the fi re until Grandmother was ready for it.

“Sad news. I must call by later and offer my condolences to Kingsley. A house without children is like a grate without a fi re—

a cold place.”

“I think that’s what Gran believes too.” Mercy patted the old lady on her hunched back. “Will you not let her see Aunt Rose?”

John Hart pulled a stool up to the table.

Ah well, so he still refused to answer.

“What’s for dinner? It’s been hungry work this morning—a convoy of ships fi nally come in from the Indies. They had to sail far into the Atlantic to avoid the Spanish pirates and we had begun to fear they were lost. There’s many a relieved investor on the

’Change today.”

“Will they have new cloth for you to trade?” Mercy set the chicken pie she had made on the table.

“Indeed. Fine silks, brocades—a treasure trove from the glimpse I had of the samples. I’ve Edwin down at the dockside with my men to take an inventory.”

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Mercy cut a slice for him and put it on a plate with a side serving of mashed turnips fl avored with thyme.

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