Catching the Rose

by Belinda Kroll

  “I am determined to be disappointed and your constant claims of my goodness make Amy confused as to why I have any reason to be so. Would you please tell her the truth?”

  “Of course.” Turning to Amy, he obediently said, “I was completely pleased by her conduct. She didn’t try to seduce me at all.” Brad glanced at Veronica, his gaze plainly asking whether his response was satisfactory.

  “You are never serious when I need you to be,” Veronica moaned.

  “What else should I say? Everything I have told them is true, Nettle, and I am as confused as Amy as to why you demand I tell lies. You were as complacent as I would wish anyone to be to balance my temperamental moods. You amused me when I wanted to walk before I should, and engaged me in arguments to distract me from my pain.”

  “Stop!” Veronica cried, clapping her hands to her ears. “Stop makin’ me sound angelic. Bentley did that.”

  Brad paused, coloring in what Amy mistook for embarrassment. “You certainly tell me a lot about what Bentley did and did not do!”

  “Only because it stops you from sayin’ anythin’ more than you should!”

  Amy’s head swiveled. And, sensing that she was not wanted by either of them, attempted to leave without their notice. Frowning when Brad threw his grip to her arm and forced her to sit, she vainly tried to make the situation better than it was. After all, they were not trading blows.

  “Are you telling me I do not know when to be silent?” Brad demanded.

  “Infer what you like, Mr. Williams.”

  Brad shook his head with a smile. “You were right in saying I doubted your motives.”

  Veronica’s rage exploded into her expression as she grabbed her skirt to prevent clawing his face. “You were listenin’ to us!”

  “Cousin, that was not prudent,” Amy whispered, her tone shocked and reproachful. Had he not eavesdropped, Amy was quite sure she might have been able to make Veronica forgive Brad his enthusiastic complimenting.

  Brad tactfully ignored Amy’s well-meaning tugs as he calmly watched Veronica’s countenance darken. This conversation certainly was becoming interesting, though he would rather not talk about Bentley.

  “Well, what else did you here, Mister Williams?” Veronica snapped.

  “Oh, to be impersonal again.” The smile on his face made Veronica’s resolve slightly waver. There were moments when she quite believed she could kill him, and Brad read that through her expression. “From the moment I met you, I tested and teased and preached and treated you shamefully. And you bore it with a humor I envy.”

  Veronica could not fully hide her smile, and so turned away. “That, at least, is true.”

  “Miss Nettle, I swear I will speak no more of your angelic qualities, if you speak no more of my…more demonic ones.”

  Veronica was diverted as Madge walked in, ready to be amused. She blushed as Madge burst, “I hope you two aren’t fighting. The moment I decide I am reconciled to the thought of you together, you suddenly become what I wished all along. I am sick of such fighting.”

  “Says the pot callin’ the kettle black!” Veronica laughed, something Brad had found severely lacking in her personality. He could hardly account for his jealousy, then, that Madge had been the one to cause it.

  “Well, what is the problem? I see that Brad and Veronica are in arms again, and Amy is attempting to advocate both sides. There is nothing out of the ordinary here.”

  Amy paused. “That’s not exactly true. I am takin’ Brad’s side on this one.”

  “Ah! This means I am allowed to take Veronica’s, for once! What is the argument, Ronnie, so I may defend your honor!” Madge laughed, looping her arm around Veronica’s waist.

  “They do not understand why I wish to be upset by Brad’s claims of my goodness,” she murmured, dropping her gaze.

  “To be sure, I do not understand it either. Why don’t you two just kiss and make up? It is what Brad and I do, when we fight.” Madge innocently smiled, never knowing that her attempts at matchmaking were so horribly obvious they made the room squirm.

  “I am determined to be upset.”

  “I cannot understand you, Ronnie, and I will not be around such obstinate behavior! Brad, release me. There is no use talkin’ to her today,” Amy said, pulling from her cousin and leaving the room in a huff.

  Madge smiled. Yet again, she had the chance to leave them alone. “I say that if you two don’t know what to do, you deserve the punishment of each other’s company.” She followed Amy’s trail, shutting the doors with such an expression that made Veronica want to scream.

  Nothing ever went the way it was supposed to, Veronica reasoned. She stood, also about to follow Amy. Unnerved by Brad’s demand that she sit still, she did as told. “You treat me most unfairly. I nursed you from death, remember.” Veronica was silenced when he awkwardly dropped a festively wrapped package in her lap.

  “Your gaze questions what you dare not speak, Miss Nettle. I shall answer: you sit with a present in your lap.” He watched her stare as though in total shock. “Will you not open it?”

  Dazedly, Veronica untied the string. “It is odd timin’ for a present,” she said, pausing for his response. She watched him stand before her, leaning against his cane. Well. She would not offer he sit beside her, not until she knew what the present was for.

  “It’s your Christmas present. It was on my account that you were forced to spend the holiday with Bentley, and I have felt horrible about it.” Sensing she was about to proclaim her usual argument, he hastily said, “Do not forget, I could have refused to join you south, just as Amy and Madge could have done. We threw ourselves to the danger.”

  Veronica berated herself upon noticing the spark of amusement in his eye. He was teasing again…using the present as a means to prolong her discomfort.

  “Doesn’t Santa get a kiss?”

  Wryly, Veronica stood to primly kiss his cheek. “Much thanks,” she said, motioning to the parcel.

  “You haven’t even opened it. Come, now, Ronnie, do not keep me in suspense.”

  Veronica noted how he addressed her with a smile, proceeding to lift the cover of the box. She was astonished to find a plain handkerchief. It was, in fact, the neckerchief he had used to conceal his identity in the Richmond stable. “What…?” Pulling out the little cloth, Veronica was puzzled by the embroidered initials. “What does this mean, this V.E.W?”

  Brad watched expressions of distrust, disbelief and finally confusion flit across her face.

  “You mean your parents took me seriously when I asked you to be adopted?”

  “You are unbelievable.”

  “…Thank you, but what does this mean?”

  “Nettle!”

  Now entirely confused and surprised by his sudden anger, Veronica backed from the room stammering her apologies. “It is a nice gift, Brad, truly, it is.”

  “You are making this very hard to do, Nettle,” he said, leaning more heavily on his cane.

  “To do what?” She stepped into the room, obediently shutting the doors self-consciously.

  “Look into the box.”

  Frowning, Veronica hesitantly glanced at her hand before capturing his gaze again. Exceedingly more puzzled when he shook his head and stepped forward, Veronica inspected the box with more curiosity than she dared show. “You hateful beast!” she cried, shoving the box into his hand. She backed into the door.

  Perplexed, Brad smiled. “I’m going to hate having you as a wife.”

  Veronica caught a laugh, though it was half-hearted and sounded silly. “I’m sure I should hate you as a husband, if you were ever clever enough to ask.”

  “What do you think this is, a silly trinket?” he demanded, flourishing the little gold band with such recklessness that it flew from the box. Amused, Brad watched as she fell to the floor searching for it. “The initials were meant to be a hint, Veronica. I meant for you to understand what the gift entailed.”

  She half-listened as her fingers brushed aga
inst the band. Picking it up, she experimentally tried it on, only to find she couldn’t remove it. Sheepishly, Veronica followed Brad to the kitchen, where he lathered her finger with butter and slid it off. “It’s rather a surprisin’ gift,” she murmured, her blush preventing her ability to fully face him.

  “Hardly so!” Brad cried, firmly placing it in her hand. “I told you when we were children we would marry. I see no reason not to follow through.”

  “You do this to tease me! How I long to wring your neck.” Veronica was fully determined to hate his teasing proposal, but it seemed so innocent and amusing she could not help but smile.

  Brad kissed her hand, before wiping the butter from it. “‘Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably’.”

  “Don’t you quote Much Ado About Nothing to me, Mr. Williams, it will get you nowhere.”

  “Would you rather I quote Taming of the Shrew? We would fit those roles just as well.”

  Veronica turned away with a hidden smile. “I would not like tamin’ you, I think.”

  “I’m not the shrew! I would watch my tongue, miss, if I wanted to be Mrs. Williams.”

  “Wanted! I hadn’t known I had I choice.” Veronica resentfully saw his all-knowing smile emerge, and knew the cause of it. “It aggravates me to no end, that you understand me better than I do,” she petulantly said, whisking the handkerchief from him to dry her sudden tears.

  Chuckling, Brad commented, “You have such horrible manners.”

  “By your influence,” she retorted.

  “Yes, well. My family anxiously awaits me with your answer,” Brad frowned, moving to the door. He was surprised to find Veronica at his side, tucking her hand into his. “What are you doing, Miss Vernon?”

  “They are my family, too.”

  He stared until his vision clouded, though even then Brad could clearly see her mischievous eyes and bashful smile. “I hadn’t realized you accepted.”

  Veronica tugged his hand so he would lean low enough for her to kiss his forehead and whisper, “Foolish boy.” She smiled at his blush, and willingly followed him to the library where his family eagerly awaited with well-wishes, laughter and hugs. Veronica was quite pleased by the contrast with her first engagement’s announcement.

  * * * * *

  August, 1862

  As the sun descended over the streets of Richmond, the curtains of a parlor window pulled shut. The resident slave, summoned by her mistress, knowingly smiled as she shuffled up the stair. Reaching the bedroom recently quitted by her favorite boarders, the slave, addressed as Maum Jo, was hardly surprised to see the delinquent cat in her mistress’ arms.

  “Don’t think I’ll ever understand it, Missy B,” Maum Jo commented. “That cat allays knows when you wants it around.”

  “You know I love cats, Maum Jo. They are independent and don’t need anyone to support them. If I could be a cat, I think I would be very happy. Really, we should all be cats, and not always worry about such simplistic things as dresses and the like. I swear, this popularity wears me down more than I remember. In any case, Mr. Cat is really quite cute, and I think I will keep him. He is endearin’, is he not?” Mrs. Beaumont smiled, enjoying the cat’s satisfied purring as she teased it with a flower.

  * * * * *

  Satisfied by a solid day’s work, the woman in blue removed the flower from her hair, setting it beside her cousin with a smile. The lovers had removed themselves, and though improper to think it, she rightly attributed much of their match to her insight.

  To hear her cousin say, “Amy, if you had not left for Richmond, I could not now boast of my new sister,” was quite pleasing indeed, and caused all the inhabitants of the room to smile.

  “Missy Madge?”

  “Yes, Nancy?” Madge smiled as Nan blushed at the mentioning of her formal name.

  “Am I goin’ to be your servant?”

  “Heavens no! You are to be my friend. I am determined not to marry until you are either married yourself, or reunited with your sister.” Nancy ineffectually hid her smile as Madge picked up Amy’s discarded rose and tucked it behind Nancy’s ear. “You are family now.”

  * * * * *

  Sitting at the vanity with an air of bemused content, the woman pulled the rose from behind her ear, ineffectually stifling a laugh as she thought how improper she must have seemed, hailing the priest with the red rose dangling from her head. She would not have removed it for the world, though; her fiancé had placed it and she dared not upset him on such a day.

  “Why do you laugh?” her husband asked upon entering the bedroom, resting his chin on her head. “Nettle, I demand to know the joke.”

  “As your wife I protest at bein’ called such a name. My name is Veronica.”

  “I could never address you as such. If you declare Nettle unsuitable, Nettie shall have to do.” He paused, seeing that he had disturbed an entry in her diary. “Finish your scribbling before we argue.”

  “Scribblin’! I beg your pardon…I should like to see you do better,” Veronica cried, flourishing her sketch of the wedding party. “Brad, you upset me with such talk.”

  “And yet you look quite fetching.”

  “Your attentions make me blush. I see you are curious about what my writin’ has to do with my scribblin’, though.”

  Brad shook his head as he sat at the footstool before her, leaning against her knee. “I do not care. But you wish to tell me, so I beg of you to begin.”

  Swatting his shoulder, she said, “I wrote only of how nature seems most happy in pairs! To Washington and Richmond I twice have been, of sincere proposals twice you have made, of a weddin’ I twice have had, and now news of a second Manassas...” Mentioning of the battle threw a momentary solemnity over the room. In this pause, Veronica counted her blessings. It was to their benefit that Brad had been wounded, for his limp prevented soldiering.

  “Yes,” he finally said, “it seems nature does like pairs.”

  Now ready for the mood to pass, Veronica held her hand against Brad’s hair so she may contrast her wedding band. “This band is not as marvelous as the one Bentley gave me.”

  Silence from her husband.

  “It is quite plain,” she pressed, shifting her weight so she could more clearly see his face.

  “Yes.”

  “Nor so pretty, I believe, as the one Bentley bought me.”

  “It was all I could afford.” The challenge in his voice made Veronica smile in triumph as she rushed to say, “I prefer the change. You preferred me even when in my dullest, simplest, most stupid and unattractive moments. I should to thank you for that.”

  “These thanks are greatly needed. You have no idea how dull, simple, stupid and unattractive you can be,” Brad laughed, lifting his head to kiss her hand. Her brow arched as he reclaimed her knee as a pillow. “I don’t suppose our first months are going to be anything like yours with Bentley.”

  “They will be if you don’t behave.”

  “Behave?” his brows shot up in mock indignation. “Pray, tell me how.”

  “Tell me what you wish and I will tell you how to act accordingly.”

  “I suppose the same thing Bentley wanted…with a smidgen of your irrepressible wit.”

  “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Williams,” she said as Brad removed to a kneeling position beside her chair, hanging on the armrest. He watched Veronica try to avoid his gaze as she tucked away her journal with a finality that puzzled.

  “You act as though you will never see your journal again.”

  “I won’t. I cannot write in it anymore. There is nothin’ for me to complain about.”

  Laughing, he replaced the rose behind her ear. “We shall see, Mrs. Williams.”

  And as she fathomed a proper reply, a petal fell. It is not known whether it was dropped by a hand, or if it fell by the properties of gravity. But it is safe to say it concluded this story.

  * * * * *

  About the Author

  Belinda Kroll is a published aut
hor under multiple names. Catching the Rose is her first published book. Belinda is a user researcher/usability by day and a historical fiction writer by evening and night. She has her BS in Computer Science Engineering, a minor in English, and an MS in Human Computer Interaction Design. She resides in Central Ohio.

  Read more from Belinda at…

  Scribd: http://scribd.com/worderella

  Her website: http://worderella.com

  * * * * *

  Contact Belinda

  I hope you enjoyed reading about Veronica, Brad, Amy, and their friends and family in Catching the Rose. I’d love to hear what you thought about this work, so get in touch at...

  My website: http://worderella.com

  Twitter: http://twitter.com/worderella

  Facebook: http://facebook.com/worderella

  Smashwords: http://smashwords.com/profile/view/worderella

  * * * * *

  Bibliography

  A&E Channel. “America’s Castles: Grand Plantations.” VHS. 1996.

  Allen, Thomas B. The Blue and the Gray. National Geographic Society, Book Division: Washington, D.C. 1992.

  Civil War Timeline 1862. American Civil War Timeline 1862. http://americancivilwar.com/tl/tl1862.html. — Accessed July 17, 2002.

  Arnold, James R. and Roberta Wiener. The Time Chart History of the Civil War. Lowe & B. Hould Publishers: Ann Arbor, MI. 2001.

  Bolotin, Norman and Herb, Angela. For Home and Country. Lodestar Books: New York, NY. 1995.

  Brink, Chuck Ten. “Past Reflections.” http://www.cwartillery.org/pastref.html. 11/16/98. Accessed July 7, 2001.