“It’s all your fault that we are here,” he complained more than once to Rosaleena.
“That is most foolish,” she would reply. “Sooner or later I would have to come to take control of Rosscullen.”
“Well, I wish it had been later,” sniffed Oswald. “And I wish it had been with my ring on your finger, then Papa could have done most of the work and we could have gone home to London. As it is, we are condemned to be here the whole summer, if not longer.”
Rosaleena did not reply. Her money had still not been released and she was beginning to suspect the hand of her uncle in this.
It was he, after all, who was in contact with Mr. McEvoy, the lawyer. Until she had full control over her fortune, she could not proceed with her plans for the estate, plans that were evolving in her mind all the time.
