Rossiath threw a candlestick against the wall, listening to the satisfying thump as it hit and rolled away before going to pick it up. She rubbed her finger along the dent in the wall, then tossed the candlestick aside on her night table and flopped back on her bed to stare up at the ceiling. After her conversation with her father, she wanted to scream in frustration.
“Father!”
Rossiath's voice echoed through the house as she stared at him in disbelief. “How could you think such a thing? Gillis had nothing to do with the burglaries!”
Tallandan stared calmly back at his daughter as he tapped a wad of fresh pipe-weed into the bowl of his pipe. “No one knows rightly who the burglar is Rose, and he fits your description. Now, I've made myself clear – you're not to go anywhere near him. And certainly not alone.”
“The description? I barely even saw the man, only thing I could tell was that he was big. I can't believe you!” Rossiath began pacing, muttering to herself. “It's not like he's the only tall man in this town. The baker's son Orlen is pretty tall. Even you ...” Rossiath pauses to stare up at her father, “You'd fit the description too, if folk here didn't know you so well!”
“He is the only one I know of, however, that's been seen around my daughter right before the burglary.” Tallandan struck a match against the stones of the fireplace and put it to his pipe, taking a drag to light it as he watched Rossiath move stiffly between the bench and chair. “I don't happen t' buy into coincidence. And for you to go to his house alone ...”
“There were workers everywhere father! It's not as though we were alone!” Rossiath said, her teeth clenched as she glared at her father.
“No arguing. You'll not see him, alone or otherwise, and that's final.” Tallandan clamped the neck of his pipe between his lips and crossed his arms to give Rossiath a look.
Rossiath sensed it was futile to continue the argument and, letting out a sound of exasperation, headed to her room.
She briefly smiled as she recalled her father's surprised shout at the slamming door, though the situation had been far from amusing. She put her arms behind her head and traced a crack in the ceiling as she thought back again on their argument.
Gillis was no more guilty of the burglaries than she was. At least she was pretty sure of it, after all he'd been rather angry when he saw her face earlier. She huffed out a breath at his strange response – should have been there indeed! Well, and it wasn't like she'd come to any real harm so he needn't worry.
But her father's reaction to her visiting the Molyneux place rankled her. That he would even suggest that she'd done anything inappropriate while she'd been there. They'd only talked about the house! But as she recalled her thoughts about the nursery, she blushed again and turned over to pick at her pillow, before laying her head down and closing her eyes.
Tallandan looked in on his daughter a short while later, having left her to rant and rage on her own. 'So much like her mother, that one,” he thought and shook his head as he lifted a small blanket over her still form. She seemed certain that the Molyneux man had nothing to do with the burglaries, but Tallandan wasn't certain. And, staring down at his tiny daughter who was sleeping peacefully now, he'd be damned if he let the man anywhere near her until he was.
Nodding grimly, he left her room and grabbed his hat to head out. He had a man to talk to ...
