by Dee, Bonnie
When at length the song ended, Rose and Will remained locked together, breathing in unison, gazing into each other’s eyes. He did not let her go, nor did she want him to.
“A toast!” someone yelled and delivered a speech punctuated by belches.
Rose exhaled shakily. ““Well… I believe you lied about your accomplishments, because you are a very fine dancer.”
He slowly slid his hand from her waist. “I was hardly aware of what I was doing. Holding you felt so natural. Rose, I know we have only just met, but might I ask if you would consider—”
“There you are!” Her father boomed, interrupting. “Said you’d throw back a drink with me. ‘Ere you go.” He thrust a full glass of beer at Will which sloshed over the rim and wet his sleeve. “Drink up. Drink up. It’s a party.”
“Thank you, Mr. Gardener,” Will replied with good grace, taking the glass from the drunk’s unsteady hand.
“So, just how rich are you? Enough to keep my girl in the manner she deserves?”
“Dad, stop!” Humiliation burned through Rose like a fever. She could not bear to look at Will.
“Shut up, you!” her father snarled, his expression set in the belligerent scowl she knew too well. “This is business. If you and Lord Muckety-Muck are going to shack up, ‘im an’ me need to make an agreement.”
“You’re drunk. Be quiet.” Before you say something even worse. Although what could possibly be worse than the implication she was a prostitute.
“Tis a father’s duty to make sure ‘is girls is cared for.” He waved an arm to indicate Arietta, beer spattering across the floor. “Yer sister’s soldier ain’t bad, but seems you done her one better. But ya can’t count on the man’s goodwill. You gotta lock in a figure.”
“Mr. Gardener, I’m afraid you misunderstand my intentions toward your daughter,” Will stopped Dad’s yammering with icy control. “We will not co-habit unless married, and that is my full intention, given time to court her.”
Dad’s bloodshot eyes went wide. “You ain’t bloody serious. I don’t believe it. You’ll use her an’ leave ‘er in a family way no matter what fancy promises ya make now. Fellers like you don’t marry gals from Spitalfields. I’m ‘ere to see my daughter gets what’s comin’ to ‘er. Tis only right.”
“Dad!” Rose nearly howled. “Stop talking!”
He barely glanced at her as he yelled. “I said shut up. This is men’s business.”
Will’s tone went even more glacial as he spoke slowly. “I must insist you not speak to Rose in that manner. Nor will I tolerate your suggestion that she act as my paid companion. You need not speak on her behalf. This young woman has built a business without any aid from you. She is capable of managing her life and making all decisions concerning her future without your interference.”
The red-faced drunk raised a shaky finger and jabbed it toward the distinguished gentleman who towered over him. “You—”
“No more disrespect, please, Mr. Gardener. Am I understood?” Will thundered, but in a low rumble like a distant storm. There would be lightning, hail, and torrential downpour if it arrived. “I would not wish for Rose to be permanently alienated from family, so I will attempt to remain forbearing. But I warn you, my patience is near its end.”
Rose caught her breath. In an alcohol haze, her father was beyond reason enough to fight men much larger than he. Any second he might take a swing at Will.
Instead his fury abruptly abated like a beaten pit bull slinking from the ring. He even bowed his head. “Point taken, mate. My misunderstanding. Wouldn’t want to offend a future son-in-law, eh?”
Her father held out his hand, and for the first time Rose noticed how gnarled his fingers were. Dad had become an old man, weak and whining rather than the dominating figure of her youth. He was pathetic.
Will did not hesitate to shake. “I’m happy we understand one another and pray there will be no further discord in the future, Mr. Gardener. I’m certain we both wish Rose nothing but happiness.”
“Yes. Yes, sir. That’s all I ever wanted for my kids.”
“Then we shall drink together and speak no more of the matter.” Will took a small sip from the glass, although his tight-lipped expression suggested he would rather pour its contents over her father’s head.
“Hear, hear,” Dad agreed before finishing the rest of his beer. With a mumbled excuse, he sidled away.
Rose had no words. Her mind was a stew of embarrassment, anger, surprise, and satisfaction at how neatly Will had handled her troublesome parent. She’d never seen anyone vanquish her dad with words alone.
Will found a table on which to set the glass, and visibly shook off his tension before facing Rose again. “There might be some interesting holiday dinners ahead for us, that is, if you’ll agree to marry me.”
“How is it possible his rudeness did not put you off? And how can you want to marry me? Can you imagine my interview with your family would go much better?”
Will put his hands on her shoulders and peered into her face. “How can you imagine that anything can stop us from having what we want? The most important question is do you share my feelings even a little?”
He paused, frowning. “I am aware I’ve moved too quickly from first meeting to declaration. The trouble is I have waited years to meet a woman I would want to spend my life with. I had accustomed myself to the idea of being forever alone. So when I met you and a light switched on inside me, I could not bear to turn it off again. I know what I want without hesitation or reservation. It is you, Miss Rose Gardener, if you’ll have me. Given more time, do you think you might come to love me and accept my proposal?”
She’d dithered back and forth concerning her feelings for Will for days now, but when she cut through the brambles of indecision, what was left? A single perfectly formed rose.
“Yes,” she blurted as realization dawned. “Yes, Will. I feel the same strong feeling for you! I can’t think why I fought so hard against it. Whatever challenges face us, be it our families or society, we will overcome. I will continue to see you, and one day soon, I expect to accept your proposal.”
If the expression “beaming with joy” had an illustration, it would be Will’s expression at her words. He slid his hands down her arms to grasp her hands and press them to his lips. “My darling, you have made me the happiest of men.”
Rose laughed for if she tried to speak the knot in her throat would come undone and she would start sobbing. Damn the wedding guests or what anyone thought, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled his face to her level so she could kiss him.
Will’s arms tightened hard around her, holding her fast against him.
As the wedding couple left the party to well-wishes and off-color remarks about the wedding night, Rose knew more than one set of vows had been exchanged that day. She did not trust Arietta’s and Gus’s would be kept, but she had no doubt hers and Will’s would.
Chapter Twenty
Standing in the center of the conservatory, Will pressed his hands into the small of his back and stretched. He’d been stooped over for too long planting, but the results were worth a little pain. Seedlings covered every bit of the beds, leaving just enough room around them to grow. One perfect little orange tree fresh from the nursery served as the focal point for the room. The transplant had not affected the sapling, for the leaves were still green and healthy. If cultivated carefully, by next year it might bloom and bear fruit. Rather like his relationship with Rose—the most important feature in the garden.
He gazed fondly at his beloved, dirt smudged across her forehead where she’d wiped away sweat, dress filthy as a chimney sweep’s garb. She could not have been more beautiful with her bright red hair catching a ray of sunlight on this overcast blustery day. His garden had only come alive through the grace of Rose. She was the instrument of his growth, as well as that of the greenhouse plants. He would love her forever for bringing life into his life.
As if feeling his gaze upon her, Rose
looked up from where she knelt in a puddle of green skirts. Her smile made his heart swell until it might burst. “What do you think? Is it everything you imagined?”
“And more.” Will let his lingering gaze signal that he meant her presence. He offered a hand to pull Rose to her feet.
“I thought perhaps a bench would go just there.” She pointed. “Or perhaps two garden chairs with a small table. What do you think?”
“One large bed might be more comfortable if we are to spend any length of time here,” he teased daringly.
“Mr. Carmody, you shock me. Reardon would be horrified if we became more familiar than what he has already witnessed.”
“That was an unfortunate incident.” Will recalled the day the butler had walked in on them kissing in the library. More than kissing, actually, as there were body parts exposed and hands in unseemly places. Admirably, Reardon had displayed no discomposure, merely announced tea and left the room.
“Honestly,” Will continued. “I believe the old fellow adores you and will be quite happy when you are mistress here. Like my mother, he is simply content to see me settled at last.”
“Your mother.” Rose frowned. “You continue to say that, but I’m not at all certain it is true. She was painstakingly polite to me at dinner the other night, yet cold as a North wind.”
“She will settle into the idea. Father thinks you are remarkable. I can tell, for I know how to read his silence. Rupert and Virginia seem taken with you as well, although they generally do not demonstrate interest in anything beyond their horses. And my nephews deemed you ‘topping’ and ‘first rate.’ You passed with high marks.”
He drew her into his arms and kissed her lightly. “You are well-liked by my family, and loved by me.” Another kiss, deeper and more lasting, underlined his statement.
Rose seemed to abandon her worries in the comfort of his arms. Will would never have imagined himself possessing the power to provide contentment and happiness to someone. It was the finest feeling in the world.
“I do love you,” he whispered when his mouth was free.
“And I love you.” She looked at him from so close, a full palette of blues was visible in her eyes. They were like diamonds reflecting only the blue light of the spectrum. How was it possible such an exquisite being could have fallen for him? But Will would not question it, merely accept with gratitude that, like her flowers, Rose had brought him to bloom.
Another kiss was interrupted by the clearing of a throat. Will released his almost fiancée.
“Lord and Lady Carmody have arrived and await you in the drawing room,” Reardon announced.
“Here? Now? I’m a fright, and I’ve nothing to change into!” Rose exclaimed.
“Never mind your gown. Mother understands the rigors of gardening if anyone does, and their visit is unexpected,” Will reassured her. “Wash up and I will meet you in the hallway to escort you into the drawing room. Please try to relax, Rose. You look perfect.”
“This is no time for compliments. Can’t you make excuses for me? I will see them another day when I am better prepared.”
“I’d prefer you stay with me. Will you do that for me? We can show them the conservatory together.”
She hesitated then regarded him seriously. “If it is important to you, then very well. I made it through dinner at their house. No doubt I’ll survive this interview. For it is an interview, and not a casual visit. I expect them to have views concerning my background, and you should expect it too.”
He nodded. “You are right, of course. Mother likely will have something to say. But I will be there to support you, and if you grow too distressed, you must give me a sign and I will end the conversation.”
“How about this for the sign?” Rose pressed her nose up with one finger turning her saucy nose into a pig snout.
“Yes. I believe that will do.” Will laughed at his sweetheart, who could deflect her fear with humor. He gave her a last embrace before letting go. “You are sunshine, Rose Gardener. Is it any wonder I love you?”
*
Rose checked her reflection once more in the hallway mirror. There was little she could do about the stains on her skirt, but at least her hair was arranged in a neat bun and her face and hands were clean. She practiced smiling. Good afternoon, your lordship and ladyship. So good to see you again.
Will held her hand and led her to her doom.
Rose caught a breath before entering the drawing room where her prospective in-laws sat in chairs they must have occupied for many years. Probably Lord Carmody’s grandparents’ and great-grandparents’ bums had occupied those same seats. And now an upstart threatened to claim one of them for her own.
Will gave her hand a squeeze as he went to kiss his mother’s cheek. “What an unexpected surprise,” he murmured. “What has brought you to town?”
“Business,” his lordship said succinctly.
“And pleasure,” Lady Carmody took over for him. “I wanted to see you, my dear, and I could not wait for your promised reveal of the finished conservatory. Might we view it today?”
Rose waited with her formal greeting trembling on her lips, but it seemed they were bypassing that. She might relax for a moment.
But only a moment, for now her ladyship turned to her. “Miss Gardener. It appears we have interrupted your work. Would you care to show me the room, while the men remain here to visit with one another?”
Will stood up. “Father and I will come with you. I had planned to show you both the renovation.”
“Sit, son. We’ll have a chat of our own and let the ladies go on about their business, eh? I’ll take a look at the room another time.”
Divided! Rose hadn’t counted on that. The grand dame was going to get her alone and attempt to uproot the common weed from her son’s garden. Her stomach churned at the thought, but then she began to grow angry. She’d spent too long fretting over the difference in their status and was finished worrying about that. Damned if she would yield to pressure, or give up the man she loved.
“It’s all right, Will. I will show your mother what we’ve created together.” Rose took the lead, a reminder to her ladyship that this was no longer her house. She felt the woman’s gaze skewering her all the way to the greenhouse, but when she glanced at Lady Carmody, the woman wasn’t looking at her at all.
Moving into the room and turning in a slow circle, Will’s mother appeared overcome by emotion. “Oh my. This room was never so lovely or in such good condition. When I came here as a bride, the conservatory was already several generations old and had been terribly neglected. I put it to rights as best I could, but the repairs and changes Will has instituted are beyond anything I imagined. Well done. Now your work here is finished, what will you do?”
Her ladyship faced Rose, who prepared to do battle.
“Continue to cultivate the plants. And we thought we might place a bench underneath the orange tree.” She specifically chose the word “we” to leave Lady Carmody in no doubt that Rose would continue to be part of the picture. “As it grows, the branches would shelter and the fruit provide a delightful scent.”
“Yes. I can imagine they would.” She paused. “And I can picture the pair of you enjoying the spot.”
“You can?” Rose blurted before thinking.
“Yes, my dear. Actually, I envision it quite clearly.” Lady Carmody paused before speaking again. “May I speak plainly?”
“I would like that.”
“I must admit to trepidation upon our first meeting. Your sudden presence in my son’s life was…unexpected to say the least. You sprang from seemingly nowhere and I could tell he was greatly enamored of you. My William was always a thoughtful, sensitive lad, who grew into a shy and self-contained man. I knew if he ever gave his heart and his trust it would be fully and without compromise. Such a man would be easy for a self-serving person to latch onto.”
“I am not… I never…” Rose began to bluster.
Her ladyship held up a hand. “Pl
ease, allow me to finish. At dinner the other night I observed you closely and made note of your manner with William. I came to the conclusion that no one could feign the expression of glowing admiration I witnessed upon your face that evening. I believe now you mean my son no harm and truly love him.”
“I do! It must seem mad to you. We’ve come to know each other so recently and our friendship developed so rapidly.”
“Yes, it did,” the older woman said dryly. “Very rapidly. But that is neither here nor there. The point is you have become a part of William’s life. He clearly intends to wed you.”
Now that it appeared she had Lady Carmody’s blessing after all, Rose found herself spewing all of her own shortcomings. “I know my background is not what you would hope for. I fear I will never fit into your world. I don’t know the proper protocol or who anyone in society is, or what is expected in any given situation. But I will do my best to emulate your behavior and make myself presentable on social occasions.”
“Which is all one could hope for. My goodness, you are a loquacious girl, aren’t you? Might I finish my thoughts?”
“Yes, of course. My apologies.” Rose bit her bottom lip to keep from babbling any further.
“I merely wanted to point out that William is not the first man who has married outside his class—far outside his class—and whose wife successfully forged her way into society. Lady Baden Churchfield, for example, was once an actress. William has no interest in attending social events, so it should not be too difficult for you to maintain a low profile, as it were. Do you intend to keep your florist’s?”
“I do. I love my business and will not give it up. I hope you do not see that as a problem.”
“Not at all. The pair of you are already so unconventional, what difference could it make? There will be gossip regardless.” Lady Carmody paused to stroke the freshly cut boards of the newly constructed worktable. “I should have been a gardener,” she said more to herself than Rose. “After I gave up living in London for the Season and spent all my time in the estate gardens, I found my truest happiness. I was born to nurture growing things.”
