A Wild Adventure (West Meets East Book 4)

by Merry Farmer

  The boys weren’t the only ones hovering on hand in case anything was needed. Like a silent soldier, Mr. Wall had barely left the house since helping to bring Elaine home after the fateful day of the regatta. Not that Elaine paid much attention to the besotted man. Rose didn’t blame Elaine one bit for closing in on herself now that she was alone, but she did feel sorry for Mr. Wall. The way he looked at her—

  “Should I be jealous?”

  Isaac’s softly-murmured question in Rose’s ear jolted her out of the sadness that enveloped her as she watched Mr. Wall watching Elaine. She gasped and twisted to face Isaac, clasping a hand to her heart.

  “You startled me,” she said.

  “Sorry.” Isaac lowered his head, seeming truly penitent. “And it wasn’t the right time for a joke either.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Bond would forgive you.” Rose smiled sadly, glancing back to Elaine and her throng of well-wishers. “He was rather fond of inappropriate jokes.”

  “Especially when they had to do with young people in love.”

  Rose’s gaze snapped back to him, and her cheeks heated. Isaac gave her a wistful half-smile. He also took her hand, though the gesture was hidden from public view by her skirts.

  “Not that I’m all that young,” he went on, quiet but steady.

  “I don’t feel particularly young either,” Rose confessed. “In spite of my years. I’ve lived too much, seen too much.”

  Isaac shook his head subtly. “Before. Not now.”

  He squeezed her hand. Rose tried not to smile, but it was in vain. As much as her heart ached for the loss of Mr. Bond, it swelled and throbbed with the love she felt for Isaac. The two emotions contrasted in a way that tied her insides in knots, but she knew the pain was temporary. When it passed, she would embrace happiness.

  “What will you do now?” Mrs. May’s question, put to Elaine as she took a seat on the sofa beside her, pulled Rose’s attention away from Isaac. She’d been wondering the same thing for more than a week, but hadn’t had the courage to ask.

  “You can come stay with us in Birmingham,” Mrs. Grayson said, patting Elaine’s knee. “We’ll always have a place for you.”

  A shot of worry hit Rose, although she didn’t think she had any right to it. Mr. Wall also looked alarmed at the offer.

  But Elaine shook her head, sniffling. “Thank you,” she said, wiping away her tears. “But I couldn’t possibly think of leaving Ivy Cottage or Brynthwaite.”

  Rose watched Mr. Wall give a visible sigh of relief.

  “You can’t possibly mean to continue living in this house by yourself, though,” Mrs. May said, frowning.

  For the first time in days, Rose saw a flash of Elaine’s old fire in her eyes. She straightened, turning to Mrs. May, and said, “Why not? I’ve lived in this cottage my whole life. Why should I leave now?”

  Mrs. May blinked in shock. Mrs. Grayson looked a little embarrassed. “It isn’t done, my dear,” she said. “Young women do not live on their own.”

  “I will,” Elaine went on. She hesitated, pursed her lips, then glanced across the room, meeting Rose’s eyes. “I won’t be alone, though. Rose will stay here with me. Won’t you, Rose?” She suddenly looked as young and needy as Rose had ever seen her.

  Letting go of Isaac’s hand, Rose pushed away from the wall. It felt as though part of her heart stayed behind her, in Isaac’s keeping. “Of course I’ll stay with you,” she said, walking to sit on the ottoman to one side of the sofa.

  “Staying in this house with no one but an American servant for supervision?” Mrs. May expressed her doubts with a frown.

  “She’s not a servant anymore,” Elaine declared, her back straightening more. “Rose is my friend. She comes from a good family in Boston, and I have never seen her as anything but my equal.”

  Rose’s eyes grew misty in no time. She reached out from her seat, taking Elaine’s hand. In her time working for Bonnie, she had formed a few strong friendships with the other girls. They’d supported each other through heartbreak and misery before. Of all things, it felt as though now—not as a servant, not as an inferior, but as a friend—Rose would be able to fill the role that she was meant to have. Despite the difficulty of her time as a whore, she’d learned how to give her whole heart in support to another woman when it was needed. And for the first time, she looked back on her past with a sort of pride. She was grateful for everything Bonnie and Pearl, Millie, Clara, and Noelle, and all the other girls, had taught her.

  “I’m here for as long as you need me,” she said, smiling at Elaine and not caring what anyone else thought of her boldness.

  But to her surprise, Mrs. Grayson said, “Well then, it seems as though everything is taken care of here.”

  Strange though it seemed, from that moment, Rose’s heart began to heal. She left Elaine to receive condolences and did her best to make sure the house and everything else was taken care of. Gradually, the visitors returned home, and the house emptied. The boys from the orphanage were some of the last to leave, and even though Elaine still wasn’t in much of a mood to notice, Mr. Wall lingered as long as he could without raising comment.

  As the sun began to set, flooding the back garden with oranges and reds and making the summer flowers even more vibrant, the only visitor left was Isaac.

  “You should head home and get some sleep,” Rose told him as she emptied bits and pieces of food that guests hadn’t completely finished into the compost pile at the corner of the garden. “I’m sure your patients would appreciate a bright-eyed doctor in the morning.”

  “I lingered behind on purpose,” Isaac answered, strolling toward her. It was a hot evening, and at some point he’d taken off his black jacket. He wore only rolled-up shirtsleeves now. Rose wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen anyone more handsome.

  “What purpose is that?” she asked, making her way back to the kitchen with purposeful steps.

  Isaac stopped her halfway, drawing her into his arms so swiftly that they could have been dancing. Rose’s heart swooped to her feet then back up again, leaving her shivery and expectant in his arms.

  “I lingered for this,” he said, and bent to slant his mouth over hers.

  It was the most unexpected kiss Rose had ever received. So much so that she dropped the bucket she’d been carrying rubbish in. As soon as it was out of her hand, she closed her arms around Isaac’s broad back, giving in to his kiss with surprising speed and fullness. It was as warm as the sun bathing them and as comforting as the home she had grown to love.

  At last, Isaac broke their kiss and straightened. “I probably shouldn’t have done that, all things considered,” he said, touching his forehead to hers. “But it seems that when it comes to you, I do so many things that I probably shouldn’t do.”

  “And who says you shouldn’t do them?” Rose asked, moving to slide her arms over his shoulders. She too was aware of the strangeness of such joy in the face of tragedy, but joy was a rare and beautiful thing to her, and she wasn’t about to let it go.

  “There is a time for mourning and a time for dancing,” he said, straightening all the way and running his hands down her sides.

  Rose caught her breath at the shiver that accompanied his touch. Every feeling of desire that she had found so much shame in before felt like heaven now. She had so much still to learn, but in Isaac’s arms, she was beginning to understand that sometimes desire was not only a good thing, it was the best thing.

  “Is there a time for having picnics to start over?” she asked, intending to be clever, but quickly filling with anxious expectation.

  Isaac’s slow smile made him look young and full of life, and made her feel warm down to her toes. “There is most definitely a time for picnics.” He kissed her gently, just a peck. “But I’m afraid that time might already have passed.”

  Rose’s smile faltered, and her brow pinched in confusion. “It…it has?”

  Isaac’s fond expression grew warmer. “It has.” He kissed her again. “Because I do
n’t have the patience to wait however long is necessary for us to start over. After everything that’s happened in the past week….” He took a breath, sobering a little. He straightened, still holding her, but gazing at her more intently. “Life is too short to be consumed by regrets.”

  “No regrets.” Rose repeated Mr. Bond’s final words to her.

  She could see in Isaac’s eyes that he knew exactly what she was talking about. “Life is too full of chances to wait for the things that will make us most happy.”

  “Oh, Isaac.” She agreed with him, but the burden of her emotions had grown so heavy that she didn’t know if she could push herself to take the kind of risk his words implied.

  As if sensing her hesitation, he let go of her waist, took her hands, and sank to one knee. “Say you’ll marry me, Rose. Say you’ll put your past behind you and help me put my failures behind me and become my wife. I don’t want to live in the past anymore. I want to think only of the future, a future with you.”

  Rose held her breath. It was the only way to contain the pure happiness that swirled through her. She beamed from ear to ear and tears filled her eyes.

  But before she could say yes or even nod, guilt twisted through her. The pain it caused was acute, but couldn’t be denied. Her expression crumpled, and the tears that had filled her eyes took on a darker meaning.

  “I can’t,” she said, regretting it with everything in her.

  “What?” The color drained from Isaac’s face. He stood, still holding her hands. “But I thought…I thought perhaps…you loved me.”

  “I do,” Rose insisted, clutching his hands to her heart. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life. You’re the kindest, wisest, most beautiful person I’ve ever had the good fortune of knowing.”

  He frowned. “But?”

  Rose swallowed. “But Elaine just lost her father. She’s lost the person she loved most in the world.” Understanding dawned in Isaac’s expression. “You just heard her in there. She needs me. She needs me to live here with her, as a chaperone and a friend. I can’t leave Elaine.”

  Isaac lowered his head in respect, nodding. “I wouldn’t ask you to,” he said on a sigh. “I understand.”

  “So…so you don’t hate me for saying no?”

  “I could never hate you, Rose.” He freed one hand and cradled her face. “I love you. I love you in a way I didn’t think I could.”

  “I’m sorry.” Rose turned into his hand, kissing his palm. “If I could, I would marry you in a heartbeat, but—”

  “Then do it.”

  Elaine’s surprisingly strong command from the path near the back door shook both Rose and Isaac out of their bittersweet moment. Rose gasped and let go of Isaac’s hand, stepping toward her friend. Elaine was still pale and wan, and black didn’t suit her at all, but the determination that she’d lost in the last week was back in full force.

  “Elaine, shouldn’t you be heading up to bed now?”

  True to form, Elaine ignored her. She met Rose halfway through the garden. “You love Dr. Newsome, don’t you?”

  Still feeling guilty, Rose nodded.

  “Then don’t let me stand in your way. He wants to marry you. I heard everything.” She looked past Rose to where Isaac was walking to join them. “Sorry,” she said, a splash of color coming to her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have stayed around to watch. It’s just that….”

  “There’s no need to apologize,” Isaac said.

  Elaine regained some of her energy. “But I’m not going to sit here and let the two of you go your separate ways just because of me when it’s clear that you belong together.”

  “I can’t abandon you in your hour of need,” Rose insisted.

  “Tush and nonsense,” Elaine said, paused, then burst into tears. Rose threw her arms around her, drawing her into a tight hug. “Papa would have wanted the two of you to marry,” she continued through an exhausted sob. “You know he would have.”

  Rose sent a helpless look Isaac’s way.

  “He would,” Isaac said, stepping close enough to rub Elaine’s back, like a brother. “He also wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone at a time like this.”

  “True,” Elaine said, shaking herself out of her breakdown. With great effort, she squared her shoulders and dabbed at her streaming face with an already soaked handkerchief. “But you know, I’ve been thinking these past few days that maybe it would be good for me to fend for myself, once I’m ready. At least for a while.”

  “What are you saying?” Rose asked, her arm still around Elaine’s waist.

  Elaine sniffled a few times and swallowed, then tried her best to smile. “I think I might like to live all on my own.”

  “You would?” Isaac asked.

  “I’ve never thought of it before,” Elaine went on. “But from the moment Mrs. May said that it simply wasn’t done, well, I suddenly thought that it might be something I want to do.”

  Rose laughed. She couldn’t help herself. Of course Elaine would rush to do something as soon as she was told it shouldn’t be done.

  A moment later, the full impact of her friend’s drive for independence hit her. If Elaine truly did want to live on her own, it meant nothing would stand in the way of her and Isaac marrying. She glanced to Isaac, and by the spark that had come into his eyes, she could see he had reached the same conclusion.

  “We could have a long engagement,” Isaac suggested just what Rose was beginning to think.

  “We wouldn’t need to rush into anything,” Rose added. Although the way her blood burned for him, the way his touch made her feel fully a woman would make it torturous to wait to be in his arms again. “I could stay here with you until you’re ready for me to leave, and when that time comes….” She glanced up and met Isaac’s eyes.

  “When that time comes, we could begin our life together,” he finished for her.

  The world suddenly seemed bright and full of promise again. Even more than it had when Bonnie sat her down to tell her they’d found a position for her in England. Who could have guessed that that position would be one of wife to a respected and wonderful doctor?

  “I will do my very best to reach a state of independence as quickly as possible,” Elaine promised. And then, of all things, she burst into wet laughter. “This is so wonderful.” She hugged Rose again with an entirely different emotion. “Papa would be so happy.”

  “I’m sure he would,” Isaac said.

  He reached for Rose’s hand. As soon as she saw the gesture, Elaine let Rose go, practically pushing her into Isaac’s arms. Rose laughed, feeling for the first time since the day of the regatta that things were well on their way to being normal again. Better than that, they were on their way to being perfect.

  “Yes,” she said. She sent Elaine a conspiratorial, sisterly look, then turned back to Isaac. “Yes, I will marry you, Dr. Isaac Newsome. I love you.”

  “And I love you,” he said before pulling her into his embrace.

  Their lips met, and in spite of Elaine standing by, watching them with more joy in her eyes than had been there for a week, Rose threw her whole self into the kiss. She was exactly where she wanted to be, and life couldn’t have been better.

  Epilogue

  Dear Ellie,

  What a whirlwind the last few months have been! I’ve gone from mourning the loss of a dear friend and mentor, Mr. Bond, to planning a wedding. It’s been such a bittersweet time in my life, but with every day that passes, the sweet is growing stronger than the bitter. Especially since Elaine—that is, Miss Bond—seems to be taking to her new life as an independent woman of means like a cat to cream. It’s been wonderful watching her learn to fend for herself. She has insisted on learning how to cook, so I’ve been sharing some of Pearl’s finest recipes with her. I believe she’s getting the hang of it too, although her pie crusts leave something to be desired. That hardly seems to matter when Elaine is covered with flour and laughing at her mistakes, though.

  Elaine has been spen
ding a lot of time in Mr. Wall’s bookshop as well. I hope that’s a good thing. There’s something about Mr. Wall that doesn’t sit right with me. He’s kind enough and very respectful toward Elaine, but I can’t shake the feeling that he’s hiding something. Do you know, he once mentioned both Millie’s boss, Lord Peter deVere, and the man Clara originally went to work for, Mr. Croydon, in the same sentence. I know there was some connection between those two men, a group of friends or something along those lines, but I can’t remember what it was. Maybe Mr. Gunn knows something? You must ask, then let me know.

  That is, if you have time to ask before you yourself leave Haskell for England. You must write to tell me all about Miss Helena Mortimer. I had a letter from Bonnie saying that Miss Mortimer’s family is one of the newly rich families in New York, and that her father made a fortune off of the railroad. My dear Isaac was just saying something to me the other day about how more and more wealthy American heiresses are marrying English lords whose estates are in financial trouble. He thinks we’re going to see many more of those sorts of marriages in years to come.

  But I don’t really want to hear all about wealthy people, I want to hear about your plans for becoming a lady’s maid. It sounds like the job is half mother, half servant. Do you think you’re up to the task of shepherding an American heiress through the social life of the English aristocracy? By the way, Elaine says that if you have any questions about how the aristocracy operate, you can ask her, since her family is technically noble too. At least, Mr. Bond’s family has a title, but not a lot of money left.

  I’m more interested in hearing about Lord Henry Howsden, Miss Mortimer’s fiancé. Elaine looked up the family in a book called Burke’s Peerage, and apparently they’re an impressive family. I’ll leave it for you to tell me if Lord Henry is impressive. As soon as you’re settled over here, you must write and tell me if he’s handsome and kind and gentlemanly.

  Of course, I’m now convinced that my Isaac is the handsomest, kindest, and most gentlemanly man that’s ever lived. I love him so much, Ellie! I’ve been helping him at his clinic a little just to spend more time with him. His smile makes me feel like the only woman in creation, and his kisses…well, I’m not ashamed to say that his kisses have led to other things that we should probably wait until marriage to indulge in, but who can wait when one has such perfection in their arms? I’m sure you’ll see soon. I’m sure there’s a man over here just waiting to fall in love with you.