“And your father?” Edward’s soft gray eyes opened wider. Was it curiosity or wonder? Or most likely neither. Royals had no interest in the personal lives of servants, Rose had realized early on.

“I’m just not sure. You see, my mother died when I was very tiny and I guess my father was so poor he couldn’t take care of me.” Poor, but he wore a ruff, a sign of a gentleman. “So I was more or less given away.”

“More or less? Rose, you must be more precise.”

“Well, more, definitely more. And I’d like to find him.” She began speaking in a rush of words. “So do you know a lot of Ashleys?” Ones with ruffs? she almost asked, but then realized how truly ridiculous this would sound.

“Not a one beyond Kat. Anyway, come around. I’ll show you the hollow.”

Chapter 19

Raiding Gran’s Closet

Dear Diary,

When it happens, it just seems to happen all of a sudden. I’m back. I was in my jeans again and I looked at my watch. It was nine o’clock sharp. I remember distinctly that it had only been one or two minutes before nine when I left on October 29th, a Saturday. And guess what. I brought my ruff back with me. I’ll have to beef it up for my Halloween costume.

I’ve made a zillion sketches of the ruffs. They are so cool. I wish they’d come back into fashion here.

As you can see, dear diary, I have been busy. I have less than forty-eight hours until Halloween. I want to be ready for trick-or-treating with Susan and the guys. I made a dress pattern that I found in one of the books on Elizabethan costumes that I ordered from Amazon. Of course I’m not bothering with all the other stuff—no petticoats, shifts, and all that. Tomorrow I’m going to the craft shop that Shirley told me about for a bunch of gold lace ribbon. I want to make a tiara for my hair. Shirley said there’s a costume shop that Calvin can take me to where I can probably buy a red wig. I need a really frizzy one—as frizzy as Susan’s black hair.