Betrothed to the Gloxinias

Chapter 9: Sacred Grounds

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

By the time Rose ran down the second-floor hall, and halfway down the winding grand staircase that led to the main foyer, she was wheezing. Johan must've followed the furious click-clacking of her boots because he appeared behind her seconds after, much less winded than she was.

Can't breathe. Should probably slow down with the smokes.

"You okay, cuz? What's the hurry?"

"Yeah," Rose coughed. "I'm fine. Just..."

When she looked up, it was just as she suspected. James was being blocked by Isaac's stoic figure. Armed Gloxinia men were brooding nearby to support him, though it was doubtful he'd need it.

To the untrained eye, or in James' case, to the arrogant eye, the elder manservant seemed harmless, but Isaac was a military veteran through, and through. That combined with being a Gloxinia-made man — Isaac Corbyn was as deadly as they come.

"What's the problem, butler? I'm just here to see my fiancee?"

"The problem, Mister Baxter, is that I've been instructed not to let you past this point."

"What?" James growled. "By who? Surely not Rose."

Isaac was unaffected by James' temper. "My master has asked that you remain here until Miss Gloxinia decides what to do with you."

"Decides what to do with- the hell is that supposed to mean? I'm here to pick her up, and take her back home!"

"You are standing in it."

"...What the hell are you talkin' about?" James blinked at Isaac, confused, and on the verge of blowing a gasket.

"Her home, Mister Baxter. You're already standing in it. The Gloxinia estate has been in Silva for generations. Many have never so much as dared to breathe too close to the front gate, and yet somehow, you now stand in our foyer, so yes, this here — is the sacred grounds in which our family calls home. You'd do well to respect it."

Rose recognized the way Isaac's arms tightened even beneath his tailcoat, and the familiar vein that popped along James' temple.

"Boys!" She shouted breathlessly. "That's enough."

James immediately flipped like a light switch and flashed his signature crooked grin.

"Baby! There you are!"

"That's right," she laughed through her teeth. "Here I am. Question is, why are you?"

James tilted his head as if she'd just asked him the most absurd thing in the world.

"What're you talkin' about, Rose? Why else would I be here if not to take you back? Don't you have classes tomorrow?"

"That I do."

But I wasn't expecting to leave until a few hours from now, and I wasn't expecting to be picked up by the boyfriend that I ignored all weekend.

Rose's lungs caught up, and she straightened on the staircase. She had two choices. Turn James away, and pretty much announce to her father that she no longer wanted this man, giving her father just one more reason to lose faith in her as heiress. Or the second choice: continue this farce for the sake of assuring her father that he had, as he phrased it, "another set of eyes" on her. Leaving Rose to continue pursuing her degree uninterrupted by drama, and far away from Silva.

"You're earlier than I expected, darling. You'll just have to give me a few more moments? I have to fetch my bags."

She felt Johan's large hand on her back. When she glanced at him, her cousin, normally upbeat, gentle, and as her uncle would say, "soft", directed a scathing glare at James. From the side of his lips, and without meeting her eyes, he murmured, "Weren't Dallan, and Romero taking you back later?"