by Isabel Morin
“Sit down, Rose,” Sally commanded as she entered the room. “Mr. Fletcher will be here in twenty minutes and I still need to dress your hair.”
“I feel as if I’m in costume, pretending to be someone else. What if everyone is able to tell I don’t belong with Luke?”
“Just get that foolishness out of your head. What people think and what’s true are two different things. You’ll get used to your finery in no time.”
Rose tried to relax into the soothing rhythm of Sally’s brush. “I hope you’re right,” she murmured to herself, unable to imagine such a day.
Sally was just putting the finishing touches on Rose’s hair when Vivian came in.
“Rose, have you seen…” Vivian began, stopping when she saw her friend.
“Oh my goodness. Rose, darling, if Mr. Fletcher hadn’t already proposed, he surely would have tonight. You’re absolutely radiant.”
“Vivian, do stop, there’s no need to exaggerate,” Rose admonished, laughing at her.
“She’s not exaggerating,” Sally put in. “You are a sight to behold. And your hair looks quite nice, if I do say so myself,” she added.
Sally had indeed done a wonderful job, arranging Rose’s hair in a coil with a few judiciously curled pieces framing her face. She wove a gold ribbon through the knot and stepped back to survey her work.
“Do ladies wear such low-cut dresses?” Rose asked. “I feel as if one could see right down the front.”
“Oh, yes,” Sally replied with confidence. “I’ve seen Goddard’s and Ladies Home Journal. This is just what they’re wearing in Paris.”
“Paris?” Rose repeated, even more nervous at this.
But there was no more time for questions, for all three of them stopped what they were doing at the sound of a carriage drawing up outside the house.
“That’s he!” Rose cried, fully panicked. “What if the dress is too extravagant? What if it’s not right for the play?”
Sally slipped a small, beaded reticule over Rose’s wrist. “Madame Beauchamp specifically chose this for tonight,” Sally reminded her. “She ought to know.”
“Time to go downstairs,” Vivian declared. “And don’t you worry, Rose, I’ll be with you the whole time.”
Rose could hear Luke’s deep voice coming from the parlor and felt lightheaded with nerves and anticipation. Taking a deep breath, she smiled gratefully at the two women and slowly descended the stairs with one hand on the banister for support. She was halfway down when Luke and Edward, drawn by the sound of footsteps, came out into the foyer and looked up. In an instant Luke’s easy grin left his face and he looked at her with an intensity that had her flushing clear to the roots of her hair.
“Miss Stratton,” he greeted her as she reached the bottom step. “You take my breath away.” And he pressed a kiss to her gloved hand and bowed low over it. It was all very proper, and yet Rose felt sure the undercurrent of heat must be felt by everyone. Shyly she looked at him and met his penetrating gaze.
Edward cleared his throat meaningfully and Vivian appeared from upstairs to accompany them. She looked lovely, and Rose was grateful that Vivian so generously agreed to accompany them. Luke bowed over Vivian’s hand as well and gave her his compliments, and the three of them proceeded outside to the carriage Luke had hired for the evening.
They chatted easily, Rose and Vivian on one side with Luke facing them. They arrived at the bustling playhouse where they were treated to an amusing comedy, the first play Rose had seen since leaving Boston six years ago. Her mind whirled at all the possibilities open to her now that she would be living in town. Once again she could go to recitals and plays, and enjoy all the things she’d had to give up so long ago.
And she would enjoy them with her husband. Rose sat between Luke and Vivian and was conscious all the while of Luke’s powerful body next to hers. Several times she glanced over, only to discover he was already looking at her, a smile on his lips and warm appreciation in his eyes.
“You’ll miss the play looking at me like that,” she whispered teasingly in his ear.
“You act as if I have a choice,” he whispered back, his voice a low growl. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
Heat shot through her at that dark voice in her ear and she recalled their last passionate kiss, the feel of his arousal against her. She hardly took in the rest of the play, so aware was she of him beside her. She wanted to be alone with him again, and yet she was terrified by the depth of her feelings, the strength of her passion. Every moment with him taught her something new about desire.
What would her next lesson be?
They did draw the attention of some in the audience, though there were no cutting looks or snide remarks. After the play a number of people approached Luke through the crowd with smiles and warm greetings, obviously curious. Rose stood by Luke’s side, anxiety streaking through her at this first test.
“I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Miss Rose Stratton, and her friend, Miss Vivian March,” he said to each.
Her anxiety soon eased, for though there were expressions of surprise, everyone she spoke to was warm and gracious. To their questions of where she was from, she said only that she was originally from Boston but had been away for some years. When the three of them finally exited the playhouse to the fresh night air, Rose was jubilant over the night’s entertainment and her first success meeting people in Luke’s circle.
“That wasn’t at all as difficult as I’d feared it would be,” she said, smiling up at him. “Everyone was perfectly lovely. Maybe even some of them will become friends.”
But Luke didn’t look anywhere near as pleased as she was.
“Yes, everyone was utterly charmed by you. But I suspect things only went so well because Charlotte hasn’t yet begun her campaign. Once she does, things won’t be nearly so pleasant.”
Rose was crestfallen.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I only want to prepare you. Perhaps I’m wrong.”
But as soon as he said it Rose knew he was right. Of course Charlotte Fletcher would speak ill of her. It wasn’t in her to do anything else.
Two days later when Luke called on her she came downstairs to find him in the parlor looking restless. His eyes twinkled and he grinned at her before taking her by the hand and leading her to the door.
She stood stock still on the front step, staring in surprise at the glossy black phaeton in front of the house, the pair of perfectly matched bay horses hitched to it waiting calmly. Rose looked at Luke in confusion.
“We can use them for our drives, but they’re mainly for your use. This way you can go where you like when I’m not at home.”
Rose flew down the walkway to the horses, greeting each of them in turn and running her hands along their warm sides and silky noses.
“They’re an excellent team,” Luke said, coming up beside her. “I tested them out myself and they’re steady and reliable as well as fast. But if you find they don’t suit you, we can look for another pair.”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m sure they’ll be perfect.”
“This one here is Samson and this lovely lady is Delilah,” he said, sliding a hand down Delilah’s neck. “You can saddle them up as well if you’re of a mind to go for a ride.”
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Consider it an early wedding gift. Come,” he said, taking her elbow. “See what you think of the rest.”
The cab was beautiful, with black lacquered wood and plush green velvet seats. There was room for herself and one passenger, and it had a top that could easily be folded down in good weather.
“Do you think you can drive it?” he asked.
“Oh yes, though it may take a little getting used to. I drove all manner of contraptions on the farm, and a buggy or two, but never on busy streets such as these. I’m only afraid I’ll hit somebody.”
“You’ll do fine, I have no doubt. Let us go for a drive so you can get used to the feel of it.”
<
br /> Rose dashed inside to tell Edward she was leaving, returning breathlessly for her first lesson.
“I think I’ve found a house for us,” Luke declared as soon as he entered the March’s parlor several days later.
“That’s wonderful,” Rose said, a thrill of pleasure and nervousness going through her at the news. The days were flying by in a blur. In just two weeks they’d be married, so of course they must find lodgings as soon as possible.
“A man I met at the club is leaving town in several days,” Luke explained. “He’ll take most of the furnishings, but the servants will stay on if all parties agree it’s to their liking. Shall we go see it?”
“Give me a moment to get my bonnet and gloves,” Rose replied, dashing up the stairs in her excitement.
They headed out on foot, as the house was walking distance from Edward and Vivian’s. That fact alone delighted her.
“I’ve been trying to imagine what my days will be like once we’re married, and I must admit it’s been rather difficult,” Rose confided. “I think it will be much easier to picture once I know where I’ll be sleeping every night.”
No sooner were these words out of her mouth than she blushed furiously. Luke stopped in his tracks.
“We’ll be doing precious little sleeping if I have any say in the matter,” Luke said, his voice oddly rough. Rose’s mouth fell open in surprise, both embarrassed and inflamed by his matter-of-fact reference to what they would do in the marriage bed. An act she thought she understood in a general sense but was very much ignorant of in the specific sense. After all, she’d thought she knew what kissing was, too.
She’d been holding onto his arm as they walked, and now even the feel of his flexing muscles under her gloved hand seemed intimate. What did he look like under his jacket? Would she watch him dress in the morning? Would he watch her?
He must have noticed her agitation for he smiled at her.
“Never mind, sweet. I just hope you like the house.”
No more than a mile from the March residence they turned onto Walnut Street and stopped before Mr. Booth’s house. A handsome three-story brownstone, it sat on a quiet cobble-stone street lined with similar houses, all of them neatly tended with small patches of lawn. The house before them had late roses blooming under the windows.
“It’s wonderful, Luke,” she said, turning to him with a smile.
She’d been afraid he would want to live somewhere more extravagant, and was thus relieved at the relative modesty of the house.
He grinned back at her. “Let us go see the rest of it.”
A feeling of unreality came over her as they approached the front door. This would soon be her front door, her house. Her staff, whom she would need to oversee. Would they like her? Would she like them? What would she do all day when Luke went to work?
“It’s a small staff. Mrs. Williamson cooks and looks after the place generally, and her son Jeremy does some of the heavier chores when not at school. A girl named Martha helps with the cleaning and laundry. They live in the servant quarters on the top floor. Booth had no need for more servants, but we can hire whomever you like if you find you need more help.”
“Goodness, I can’t imagine what more I could need. There’ll be nothing for me to do as it is.”
“Good,” he said turning to look at her as the reached the first step. “I don’t intend for you to lift a finger ever again.”
Luke hardly had time to knock before a stout, plump-cheeked woman with graying hair opened the door and let them in.
“Mr. Fletcher, so good to see you again. I hoped you’d come back.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Williamson. Please meet my fiancée, Miss Rose Stratton.”
“A pleasure, Miss Stratton,” she said with a warm smile. “Do come in and look around. I’m happy to answer any questions.”
Rose made certain she struck the right note with the housekeeper. If the house were to run smoothly without causing any of them undue worry, they two of them needed to trust one another.
“Thank you, I’m very pleased to meet you as well,” she replied with a smile. “If Mr. Fletcher and I do take the house, I have no doubt I will come to rely on you quite as much as Mr. Booth did.”
Mrs. Williamson smiled. “Shall I take you around, Mr. Fletcher, or would you prefer to show the place yourself?”
“I’ll show her myself, thank you.”
“Very well. I’ll put together a tray for you to have after you’ve seen the place,” she said before heading down the hallway toward the back of the house.
After this Rose met the other two servants – Jeremy, a gawky boy of about fifteen who blushed and could barely look Rose in the eye, and Martha, a sturdy girl of perhaps nineteen. Both of them seemed terrified of her, and she realized that they had much more to fear than did she. After all, she could make their lives perfectly miserable and there would be nothing they could do about it. She could even dismiss them this very day. Since she understood this as well as anyone she tried her best to put them at ease.
The house itself was well-kept and solid, though it was clear a bachelor occupied it. Many of the rooms had only the most necessary furniture, which made it all the easier to imagine how she might furnish and decorate it. All of the rooms pleased her, particularly the sunny parlor.
Then they came to Mr. Booth’s study.
“I hope you’ll forgive me,” Luke said, “but this is the only room in the house you are not free to redecorate. While it might not appear so, it’s quite perfect as it is.”
Rose laughed, looking around the room and noting it was actually quite handsomely done in dark silk wallpaper and plain, though well-made, drapery.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Fletcher,” Rose replied, batting her lashes at him. “Though I do think doing the whole room over in a scheme of pink and white would be just darling.”
Luke grinned down at her, backing her up against the desk as he bent to kiss her, and it suddenly hit Rose that Luke would soon occupy this room, and the desk would be filled with his correspondence and papers. Might she actually need to snoop through her own husband’s study to solve her father’s murder? It was a horrible thought, and she jerked away from him just as his lips met hers.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m just not sure we should be kissing here,” Rose replied, trying to cover up her distress. “What if someone sees us?”
“Very well,” Luke reluctantly agreed. “I suppose we should wait until we well and truly live here before shocking the servants.”
There were three bedchambers upstairs as well as a sitting room, which Luke informed her she could have for her own use. The master bedchamber was the largest of them all, with several windows and a pleasing amount of light. The most dominant feature, however, was the enormous bed hung with deep blue drapery.
“Booth tells me the bed will stay, as it’s far too much trouble to move,” Luke said, walking into the room. Idly he ran a hand down the bed hangings and peered out a window.
Rose had stopped in the doorway, unable to venture farther. She now took several steps backward until she was in the hallway. Luke walked back toward the door in order to keep her in sight, and stood peering at her in confusion.
“Rose?”
“It’s a very nice room,” she said. “I’m sure it will do fine for us, I mean you, I mean, for whomever sleeps here,” she said, knowing she was speaking too fast but incapable of stopping herself. “Thank you so much for showing me around. It’s a lovely house. I’m sure it will do wonderfully.”
Here she finally stopped talking and looked down, mortified beyond measure. Luke came to her and took her hands, dwarfing her smaller ones in his. Still she could not meet his eyes.
“Rose,” he said quietly, and there was a note of tenderness in his voice. “Can you not look at me?”
Slowly she raised her eyes to his. He was so powerful, so overwhelming in every way. Standing not twenty feet from what would soon be their bed made her k
nees weak and her heart pound. With terror, yes, but also with anticipation.
“I apologize, Rose. I sometimes forget myself. If it makes you feel any better, I confess I’m not feeling so very calm myself.”
“You’re not?”
“No, far from it. I want to make everything perfect for you, including this house.”
“You needn’t worry on that score. I’m not so terribly hard to please. In any case, this house is perfect. I think we’ll be very happy here,” she added shyly.
“As do I,” he replied, smiling down at her.
A week later Luke came to the door with a pleased grin on his face. He whistled happily as he handed her into the little buggy, the top down to enjoy the day. Rose sat beside him as he drove Samson and Delilah out of town, the reins easy in his hands.
The sky was a terrific clear blue, soft with clouds, the air warm but touched by the breath of autumn. All around them the maples and oaks were turning their brilliant colors – flaming orange, red and yellow. The first fallen leaves laced the ground, their colors as bright as her hopes.
Stealing a look at Luke, she almost wished he wasn’t being such a gentleman. His strong profile and thick lashes, combined with the slight bristle of his jaw, left her weak with desire. So it was several minutes before she noticed the basket at her feet.
“What’s this?” she asked. “Surely you haven’t hidden more books in a basket?” she teased.
“Not this time,” he grinned. “What do you think of a picnic?”
Rose opened the lid to the delicious aroma of fresh-baked bread, cold chicken, decadent squares of chocolate and a jar of raspberry jam that gleamed like jewels when she held it up to the sun. He had even included a bottle of Champagne.
“Edward would insist on acting chaperone if he knew you’d brought this,” she teased.
“Edward knows I’ve lost my head over you. He’s not worried.”
Rose couldn’t think how to respond, so she said nothing. Instead she reveled in the feeling she heard in his voice. Could it be that he loved her a little?
