Time passed in a blur, with the market in full swing for the summer as people traveled between towns to trade and sell. Her mother's blueberry tarts had been a success, just as Rossiath had predicted, and it seemed Rosabella could scarcely keep up with demand for the small treats. The house, as a result, was often an oven and Rossiath took to going down to the stream to cool off from the heat. And if she happened to be able to see the Molyneux place from the stream, well she wasn't there because she was curious about the progress – or to look for a certain dark haired man.
Not at all.
Inevitably though, she'd found herself looking across the stream, watching as men labored to set the foundation and frames. In her mind, she could almost see the finished mill-house, for Gillis had described it to her rather well in their talks.
She'd not seen him though, not since that day, though she'd heard talk that he'd been seen in town quite often with Maliennde and her mother. Several of the girls in town could often be heard talking about the couple, speculating on when Talleine would announce a wedding date. Rossiath would just shake her head, doing her best to ignore the talk as she always did despite the nagging sense of loss she felt each time she heard some new rumor or tidbit. It was a silly thing, after all, for all they'd ever done was talk about his house.
Shaking off a stray thought, Rossiath headed down the path to the stream, a basket of laundry in her arms. The morning had started, oppressively hot and humid, and she'd gladly offered to take the linens down for a good cleaning. As she turned the bend to go down to the bank, she saw her father talking with a couple of their neighbors and raised her hand to greet them even as Tallandan called out to her.
“Rose, come here for a moment, if you would.”
With a smile, Rossiath changed direction and headed towards the men, slowing as she sensed something wasn't right. The men were tense, angry, and the air seemed to bristle with that tension. “Father?” she asked, turning to look up at him, “What's wrong?”
“Rose,” her father said, “You've not noted anyone strange lurking about town recently, have you?”
Rossiath paused to think, then shook her head.”No. I mean, we've had lots of people at market, but I don't recall anyone that stands out. Why? What's this about?” she asked, looking into the men's faces for an answer.
The man closest to her father snorted, his face set in a grim line. “Th' Sanson place got burgled last eve, that's what happened,” he replied. “Issie and Dorlan came home from buyin' supplies at th' market t' find th' door wide open an' their best things missin'.”
The older man, Dorlan, nodded in agreement, looking rather nervous and pale. “Issie's in a right fit, she is. Took her mother's ol' jewelry an' the pouch o' coins she'd been savin' up. Me good tools were gone as well.”
Her mouth agape, Rossiath stared between the men. “I'm so sorry to hear that! We've not had anyone be robbed in … “ She furrowed her brow, trying to think and shook her head. “It's been a long time at any rate.”
Dorlan turning to spit on the ground. “Ain't no one seen anythin', wit' everyone bein' at market an' all. Everyone, 'xcept that new fella that is …” The men all nod, murmuring agreement.
“That new fella … Gillis?! No! He'd never do a thing like that! He's been busy building his mill, is all.” Rossiath responded as she stared dumbfounded at Tallandan. “Father, I know Gillis. He'd never do any such thing.”
“Maybe not,” Tallandan replied, studying his daughter's face. “But still, someone did, and until we find out who, everyone is suspect.”
Unsure what else to say, and feeling stifled by the heavy air, Rossiath simply pursed her lips. Shifting the basket against her hip, she stood on her toes and, kissing her father on the cheek, she said “I'm going to get these washed before mother thinks I fell into the stream and drowned. If I see anything ...” she left the words hang as she turned to head down to the water.
As Rossiath tended the washing, her eyes constantly drifted over to the other side. She was certain Gillis wouldn't do anything like that – wasn't she? Then, what did she really know about the man, other than what he'd told her? 'No,' she thought to herself shaking her head. 'He's a good man. He wouldn't …'
But how could she be sure?
