Rose (Flower Trilogy) (39 page)

“Not yet.” This time the laugh was real, and a twinkle lit Ellen’s eyes. “We’ve been enjoying your sonnets.”

“Ellen!” Thomas protested, turning ten shades of red.

“They’re not mine,” Rose said dryly. “You’re welcome to them.”

She noticed both their gazes stray to the bag of coins and figured they were too polite to dump them all right there and wallow in their new fortune—but also that they were dying to do so. “I’ll leave you, then,” she said. “To the sonnets and the gold.”

Thomas followed her back down the stairs. “Thank you,”

he said at the door.

“Thank Kit.”

“We will. But I thank you, too. I’m aware that what Kit gives us comes out of your pocket as well.”

He didn’t know the half of it. “Kit and I have plenty,”

she assured him. “ ’Tis the love that counts anyway, is it not?”

He nodded as he locked the door behind her.

It had gone perfectly. She smiled to herself as a footman ushered her into the carriage. “We’re sorry,” Violet and Lily said together before she could even sit down.

“Sorry?”

“We talked while you were gone. And you’re right,” Violet admitted. “We both gave up our inheritances for our men. And it was a good bargain.”

“The best,” Lily agreed.

Rose was stunned by their about-face. “ ’Twas not exactly the same.”

“True.” Violet started a little as the carriage lurched and began the short drive down the hill to Kit’s house. “We both did it to win our men, and you already have Kit.”

Rose hoped she still would after she told him of this night’s work.

“We’ve decided,” Lily said, “that what you just did was more romantic. And noble.”

“Noble?” No one had ever described Rose Ashcroft as noble. “Noble?”

“We traded money for selfish reasons—for what we ourselves wanted. You sacrificed not for yourself, but for your husband’s happiness.”

“But can you not see? I cannot be happy if Kit isn’t. That was the whole point.”

Her sisters exchanged a look. “She gets it,” Violet said gravely.

“Yes.” Lily breathed a languid sigh. “Isn’t love wonderful?”

The carriage rolled to a stop. “We’re here,” Rose announced unnecessarily, her heart suddenly pounding. Here was her moment of truth.

As she climbed down the steps with her satchel, she ordered herself to relax. Despite her sisters’ dire predictions, she’d known from the first this would work. And she was dying to see Kit. Her entire body tingled in memory of their one night together last week.

Putting a smile on her face, she marched up the stairs and banged the knocker.

Graves promptly answered. “Lady Rose. What a surprise.”

“I hope ’tis a pleasant one.” Surely everything would be all right. “Especially pleasant for Kit.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Martyn has gone to Hampton Court,” the butler told them. “My apologies, Lady Rose. I don’t expect him back until Thursday.”

“Thursday?” Rose echoed, her stomach souring with disappointment. Not only could she not see Kit, but the roads were too dangerous to travel at night. The countryside was dark as sin, and highwaymen abounded. Standing on the doorstep, Rose looked helplessly at her sisters, then back to Graves. “Do you suppose we could stay the night anyway?”

“Of course, of course.” The butler reached for her satchel. “Mr. Martyn would have my head if I turned you away.”

In no time at all, he’d called for footmen to take their luggage and maids to ready rooms, then sent word to the cook to prepare a fine meal. He ushered the sisters through the magnificent entry hall and into the drawing room to await supper.

Rose plopped onto the moss green settle. “I cannot believe this.”

Lily shrugged and set down her cat, then sat beside her.

“We shall have a nice sisterly evening together.”

Rose had wanted to spend the evening with Kit. Her body all but ached, reminding her. “I think I just want to go to sleep—” Suddenly an alarming thought occurred to her.

“Good God, this is terrible. I’ll not be able to explain to Kit before we leave.”

“Explain what?” Violet asked, perusing a book she’d found on a shelf.

“About Ellen and the money. I need to explain. Else he might hate me and call off the wedding—”

“Oh, Rose.” Lily covered her hand with her own. “I’m sorry we ever said that. Kit is not going to hate you.”

Violet shut the book and sat on her other side. “As you pointed out, I meddled in Ford’s life, too. And he certainly didn’t hate me for doing those things. In fact, he thought it was wonderful.”

But now that the idea had taken root in her head, Rose couldn’t help but worry. “Ford is different,” she said. “He thrives on invention, creation—he’s not a man driven by ambition, as Kit is. Ford’s happiest when other people take care of the details so he can concentrate on his science. But Kit is used to being in charge. He may not take lightly to my arranging his life.”

“You said you know him,” Lily reminded her. “You said you were certain he wouldn’t react badly.”

That was true. Her heart stopped pounding quite so hard.

“You’re right,” she said, “I
do
know Kit. He will probably laugh when he hears what I’ve done.”

But a moment later she was doubting again. She felt as though her emotions were buffeted by the wind.

More than anything, she wanted to talk to Kit and see his reaction once and for all. But she couldn’t drag her sisters to Hampton Court, and she couldn’t send them home in the carriage and wait here until Thursday, either. Her wedding was Saturday. She had to make flower arrangements, help her mother . . .

“I’ll leave him a letter,” she decided. “And I’ll ask him to send a message as soon as he reads it.” She’d be counting the hours until Thursday night when, she hoped, she’d receive words of reassurance. Words that would allow her a good night’s sleep.

“The perfect solution,” Violet said.

Not perfect, but the best Rose could do.

“He loves you,” Lily reminded her.

Rose could only hope he loved her enough.

He was a coward.

Kit had argued with himself on the entire drive from London. Should he give Ellen her dowry before the wedding, so she’d attend and neither of them would be sorry later? Or wait until she started talking to him again, no matter how long it took?

He wanted to do the latter; he didn’t want to give in to her childish behavior, and he didn’t want to feel like he was buying her love. But he didn’t have the guts. As evidenced by the fact that he’d detoured from his final inspection of the completed chapel at Whitehall, stopping to pick up some money from his goldsmith before making the drive back here to Windsor.

Not to mention that even though his work had kept him a day later than he’d intended—even though ’twas nightfall already and his wedding was tomorrow—he was even now heading up the High Street to Ellen’s house instead of his own.

Still, if he was a coward, at least he was a happy one.

Amazingly, in less than twenty-four hours, Rose would be his. He hadn’t needed the knighthood, let alone a more important title. He’d won her as plain Kit Martyn, and there was satisfaction to be found in that.

No more mishaps had occurred, and in fact, his work was proceeding extremely well. Lord Trentingham, of course, was enamored of his new greenhouse. Charles was pleased with the chapel at Whitehall, and when he saw the exquisite dining room here in Windsor, which was also now complete, Kit was confident he would approve. ’Twas unfortunate the Hampton Court addition was so far behind schedule, but as its intended occupant was currently in France, ’twas not exactly disastrous. And Kit was certain that, when finished, it, too, would exceed Charles’s expectations. Despite losing the Deputy Surveyor post, his future was not at all bleak.

A week from today, he and Rose would attend the Queen’s birthday celebration at Whitehall, then leave for Italy the day after that. A dream come true for them both.

He would learn from the great architects, and Rose would be there to translate.

But first things first, Kit thought as his carriage drew up before the pawnshop. Before he could be happy with the new woman in his life, he needed to square things with the old one.

He drew a deep breath, hefted the bag of coins, and marched up to the pawnshop door. ’Twas locked tight at this late hour, but as he was raising his hand to knock, it swung open. Ellen and her husband both stood there, wrapped in cloaks, obviously on their way out.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Where are you going?” he countered—then realized that she’d actually spoken to him. Would wonders never cease? Just when he was ready to give in, she’d saved him from proving himself a coward.

“Now that the shop is closed for the evening, I was going to try to see you,” she said. “As I’ve done the past four nights.”

“I was away,” he said unnecessarily. “Here.” He held out the bag. “A down payment on your dowry. I never meant to keep it from you. My goldsmith is holding the rest for you in London.”

“I know. I’ve been trying for four days to thank you.” Instead of taking the money, she threw her arms around him, the hard bag of gold between them. “Thank you so very, very much.” She kissed both his cheeks. “I love you. I honestly don’t know what came over me. But I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, that I tried to punish you by remaining silent.”

Though clearly rehearsed, her words sounded sincere.

But Kit was stunned. He pulled away. “How did you know I was about to give it to you?” Until a few minutes ago, he hadn’t been sure himself.

Ellen exchanged a confused glance with Thomas before turning back to her brother. “What do you mean, how did I know?”

“There was no need to bring more gold,” Thomas added.

“The first bag was sufficient proof of your intentions.”

Kit shifted the heavy weight in his arms. “The first bag?”

“The one you sent with Rose.” Ellen enunciated slowly, as though he were a half-wit who required the simplest explanation.

’Twas not too far off from the way he was feeling at the moment. “Rose? What does Rose have to do with this?”

Thomas looked even more confused than Kit felt. “She brought us your money. Or a thousand pounds of it, and a promissory note from your goldsmith for the rest. Abrahamson & Company.”

“My money is with Lazarus & Sons.” Kit’s thoughts seemed to be moving through a fog, until suddenly everything cleared. “Lord Almighty. It must have been
her
money. Her inheritance.”

Thomas blinked. “Is she mad?”

“Clearly,” Kit said. “Insane, infuriating—”

“Madly in love,” Ellen interrupted with a soft smile.

Reeling, Kit leaned against the doorpost. Not light to begin with, the bag seemed to be growing heavier by the moment. “Do you think I could come in and sit down?”

“Rose is anxious,” Chrystabel said later that night as she readied herself for bed. “Distressed. I never in my life thought I’d see Rose like this. Of all our girls—”

“You’re the one who’s anxious.” Joseph stepped behind to unlace her, pausing to kiss the back of her neck.

The little shiver that rippled through her was not enough to really distract her. She reached up to unpin her hair. “I should have let her sleep with Kit.”

“What?” Though he sounded astonished, his practiced fingers kept unlacing. “You cannot mean that, Chrysanthemum.”

“I do. ’Tis the only explanation for Rose’s attack of nerves. ’Twas a mistake keeping them apart. Our daughter should be happily anticipating her wedding tomorrow, and instead—”

“You explained so well all your good reasons for forbidding their early union.” He spread the back of her gown, drawing it off her shoulders and kissing the newly bared skin. “Fear of an eight-month baby—”

“We had a
six
-month baby and survived—”

“Loss of innocence before the wedding—”

“So what?”

“—when the wedding could be called off for various reasons—”

“What reasons? ’Twas different with Lily and Rand, where his father was against the match. But Kit has no parents, no one to say nay. He’s his own man—”

He laughed, pushing the gown and her chemise down to pool at her feet. “And you’re your own woman, my love.

Truly one of a kind.”

Though she wasn’t certain if he meant that as a compliment or a complaint, she turned and kissed him anyway.

“Tomorrow it will all be over, all three of our girls married.”

He skimmed his warm hands down her sides, stopping with them on her hips. “Do you find that sad? Another reason to be anxious?”

She nodded and bit her lip, reaching for her night rail.

“Oh, you won’t be needing that.” He snatched it from her hands and threw it artfully over his shoulder. “I suspect a prewedding night might take your mind off tomorrow’s anxieties.”

No note had come from Kit.

Wearing only a sapphire silk dressing gown, Rose paced her crimson bedchamber, smiling vaguely at her sisters and Judith gathered there to help her dress for her wedding.

She couldn’t help wondering if she was going to have one.

She lifted the bouquet she’d made for herself to carry down the aisle, stroking the soft red and white petals. If she hadn’t given all that money to Kit’s sister, she wouldn’t think twice about the fact that he hadn’t arrived yet; in truth, she had no reason to expect him this early. And he wasn’t supposed to see her before the wedding, anyway.

But she’d thought she’d hear from him Thursday night.

And now it was Saturday . . .

“You look worried,” Judith said.

Rose inhaled deeply of the sweet floral scent, then set the flowers aside, forcing a smile. “Wedding nerves. You suffered them, too, if you’ll remember.”

“Did I?” Judith laughed, looking happier than Rose had ever seen her. “But there was no need to, as I discovered. If

’tis the wedding night you’re dreading . . . don’t. ’Twas ever so wonderful—” She must have suddenly realized what she was saying, because she broke off, her cheeks flushing pink.

Struggling to keep a straight face, Rose exchanged glances with her sisters. “Thank you,” she told Judith primly. “I feel much better.”