Rose in Bloom (14 page)

“I can’t. I have to be back in Bath by ten tomorrow to begin my job.”

“My, you’ll have to get up with the sun. You’d better get to bed.”

“I can’t. I have to read this.” He showed her the Shakespeare play. “It’s the Regal’s first production. They’re opening on the solstice, and they need original music.”

“That’s little more than two weeks.”

“Yes, but I told Mr. Newland I could do it, and I damn well will.” He smiled. Energy pulsed through him. He might well be up all night.

“Cam…”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to blow this opportunity.”

“I know you won’t.”

“Could you do me a favor and pack a valise for me? I won’t be back tomorrow. I can’t continue this commute. I want you and the girls settled in Bath by the end of the week.”

“Yes, of course. My, it’s all so much to think about.”

“Don’t think too much. Just pack my valise and get to bed. I need to read through this play, and then I’m going to get as much sleep as I can before I need to get up and go back to Bath.” He looked around the cottage. “It’s hard to believe this will be my last night here.”

“Yes. I imagine it is. You’ve been here your whole life.”

“Wait until you see the townhome. I know it will please you.”

“I’m sure it will. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you. It won’t take me more than an hour or two to read through this, and then I’m going straight to bed.”

* * * *

Cameron’s morning meeting with Newland went well. Determined not to get writer’s block, Cam sat in his new office, behind a solid cherry desk, comfortably ensconced in a lush leather chair. Newland had moved an old upright pianoforte into the room for Cameron’s use, and he had brought his guitar in as well. Soon he was picking out notes and chords. Within a few hours he felt he had a good start, so he took a break for luncheon and walked around the city for a while. On a whim, he entered a furniture gallery and used ten of his precious pounds to purchase a new bedroom suite for his townhome. He couldn’t sleep on the floor tonight, after all. It was a lavish mahogany four poster, with two night tables, a highboy and a lowboy, and satin sheets and spreads. He made arrangements to have it delivered before he returned to the townhome for the night. After he had enjoyed a meal of roast chicken at a local eatery, he made his way back to the theatre to resume work. About an hour later, Newland entered his office.

“Price, we’re going to do a complete run through of the show. It might help you to have a look.”

“That would be fine. I’ve gotten a pretty good start, I think. Seeing how you’ve put together the production will show me if I’m on the right track.”

“Come on, then.”

Cameron followed Newland into the auditorium and took a seat in the front row next to Milton Trenton, the director. They shook hands briefly and then sat back to watch the play. Trenton took copious notes on the performance, and Cameron was distracted at first by his scrawling, but soon got lost in the fantasy world of Shakespeare’s enchanted forest. Newland played the part of Puck, and although he was tall and handsome with auburn hair and brown eyes, his acting ability was so great that Cameron had no problem imagining him as the impish Robin Goodfellow. It was a treat for Cam, who had never been to the theatre before. This was just a run through, not even a dress rehearsal, but the performance drew him in.

He was going to love this job.

He applauded enthusiastically after Newland’s final monologue, and then left the auditorium and went back to his office. His work needed a few minor changes based on what he had seen, so he sat down and began writing, plucking notes on his guitar as he went along.

Several hours later, Newland poked his head in the door. “Still here?”

“Yes,” Cameron replied. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Nearly seven. How did it go today?”

“Well, I think. Would you like to hear what I have so far?”

“Tomorrow, Price. I’m exhausted. Can I give you a lift home?”

“I should really stay and work through some more of this.”

“Nonsense. It’s your first day. Come on. I assume you’re staying at the townhome tonight?”

“Yes. My mother and sisters will be here by the end of the week.”

“Have you brought in provisions yet?”

“I ordered furniture for the master suite today, but other than that, no. There hasn’t been time.”

“So the kitchen is empty then?”

“I’m afraid so. I ate out for lunch.”

“Then you can sup with me. My chef is excellent.”

“I couldn’t impose.”

“It’s no imposition, Price. In fact, my sister is visiting. I’m sure you’ll enjoy her company.”

Lord. He was trying to play matchmaker. Yet Newland was his employer and it wouldn’t do to turn down his invitation.

“I’d be obliged, Newland. Are you far from here?”

“About a half hour in my carriage. Only a few blocks from your new place. You’ll be able to walk home from there.”

“All right. Shall we, then?”

Newland’s townhome was about three times the size of what Cameron had rented. “How long have you been here?” Cameron asked.

“About five years. Before that I lived in the house you’re renting. I stayed there many years after I could have afforded to move. I felt it necessary to watch my money carefully. I grew up poor, you see, and that’s a mentality that doesn’t go away overnight.”

“I understand what you mean,” Cameron said. “Has the other home been vacant for long?”

“About a month. The family renting it moved to Bristol.”

“I’m lucky it was available then.”

“Yes, sometimes timing is everything,” Newland agreed, handing his hat to his butler. “Ah, here comes Evelyn now. My dear, I’d like you to meet Mr. Cameron Price. He’s the new composer I was telling you about. Price, my sister, Miss Evelyn Newland.”

“It’s a pleasure, Miss Newland,” Cameron said, bowing.

“The pleasure is mine, sir.” Evelyn beamed. She was attractive, with auburn hair and dark brown eyes.

Although her stature was average, Cameron found himself thinking that she was too short. He was comparing her to Rose, of course, who was tall. It was his eternal damnation to compare every woman he met from now on to Rose, and he would do doubt find them all lacking. Perhaps he was meant to remain a bachelor forever.

“The chef has prepared his specialty tonight,
coq au vin
,” Evelyn continued. “I’m sure you’ll find it to your liking, Mr. Price.”

Cameron cleared his throat.
Coq au vin?
He guessed that was French. “I’m sure it will be excellent,” he said, hoping it wasn’t brains or stomach. The French were fond of eating strange things.

It turned out to be chicken cooked in red wine, and it was indeed delicious. It was served with buttered green beans, creamed vegetable marrow, and new potatoes with parsley. A fruit and cheese tray followed, and coconut cake for dessert. The Newlands were lively company, and Cameron smiled and laughed more than he had in a long time. When the last dessert plate was taken from the table, Newland stood.

“Would you care for a port, Price?”

“Yes, of course.” He rose.

“If you two gentlemen will excuse me.” Evelyn stood and left the dining room.

“She’s pleasant,” Cameron said.

“Yes, Evie’s a great girl. Come, we’ll take our port in the smoking room.”

Newland led Cam to a lush room adorned in distinctly masculine decor.

“Do you hunt?” Cameron asked, noting the head of a stag mounted on the wall above the hearth.

“Heavens, no,” Newland said. “Where would I find the time? That’s just decoration. Hunting is a sport for the nobility.”

Cameron nodded. He should have known that. Determined not to make an idiot of himself again, he took a cigar when Newland offered his humidor, even though he had never smoked one in his life. He followed Newland’s lead, biting off the tip and taking small puffs as Newland lit it for him. The smoke tasted bitter in his mouth. He was wondering why men had any desire to suck on these tobacco sausages, when a bit of the smoke touched the back of his throat, sending him into a spasm of wheezy coughing.

“I say, Price, are you quite all right?” Newland asked.

“Yes, of course,” Cameron lied.

“This is your first cigar, isn’t it?”

“No, of course not,” Cameron said. Then, “Well, yes, it is.”

Newland erupted in laughter. “I couldn’t stand it the first time either. You’ll get used to it. You’ll have to, if you’re to hobnob with the theatre crowd.”

What do you mean, ‘the theatre crowd?’” Cameron asked.

“The theatre won’t run itself, you know. I expect my productions to be successful, but good reviews and ticket sales aren’t enough to keep it going. We depend on our patrons.”

“I see.” Cameron nodded. “After all, you hired me to make Lybrook happy.”

“Yes, in part. I also hired you because you have talent.”

“What exactly are my responsibilities as far as the theatre crowd goes?”

“Your responsibilities are to write excellent unforgettable music for our productions, Price.”

“And…?”

“That’s it. Although I will expect you to attend the soirees that I give for our patrons. I imagine many of them will want to make your acquaintance.”

“And are many of them women?”

“Some,” Newland said. Then, “Ah, I see what you’re asking.” He chuckled. “No, you won’t be expected to barter your sexual favors for the good of the theatre. Although, when you meet some of the ladies who support us, you may not have a problem with it.”

Cameron smiled. “I hope I didn’t offend you, Newland.”

“Not at all. My first patron, Lady Denbigh, never asked anything like that of me. Believe it or not, her intentions were purely altruistic.” He laughed. “Just as well, since she was in her early sixties at the time, and I was nineteen. Too much even for a randy lad like myself to consider.”

Cameron chuckled. “I see.”

“Not that I’ve been a saint, mind you, but in all honesty I haven’t made it a habit to—shall we say—service rich ladies to get donations for my theatre.” Newland let out a chortle. “I usually service them for different reasons entirely.”

The two men continued laughing together. The port was smooth, and the cigar began to taste much better by the time Cameron was finished. If this was the high life, he was ready for it.

* * * *

“Pardon me, sir, but Mr. Larson is here to see you.”

“Christ.” Dorrance Adams extricated his cock from the whore he was fucking and turned toward his servant’s voice. “Could this have possibly waited a few minutes? And did you consider knocking?” He buried his erection in his trousers and grunted.

“I beg pardon, sir. I knocked but you didn’t answer. And you told me to always fetch you straightaway for anything Mr. Larson deemed important. And he says this is important.
Quite
important.”

“Fine, fine.” He shooed the woman away. “I’ll be down in a moment.” He straightened his trousers, his cock still hard and unsated. He willed it down. Or tried to, anyway.

Within minutes he met Larson, a constable who’d been on his payroll for decades, in his sitting room.

“What in God’s name is it, Larson?”

“I’m sorry, Adams, but I knew this would interest you.”

Adams sat and motioned for Larson to as well. “Get on with it, then.”

“I got word from one of my informants that a man was looking for work in Bath all day yesterday. He left his calling card in numerous places.” Larson handed a card to Adams.

“Why on earth would I—” Adams jerked forward, his eyes wide.
Cameron Price
. Then he shook his head, regaining his composure. “It’s a common enough surname. This is of no consequence.”

“That was my first thought as well, but the young man fits the description of the bastard and his father. Dark hair, silver-grey eyes.”

“Impossible. The bastard was killed decades ago.”

Larson cleared his throat. “Yes. There’s no way he could have survived that beating.”

“Then what is this about?”

“He might have fathered a child. I don’t know. I’ll find out all I can. But I thought you’d want to know.” Larson nodded and left the room.

“God damn it,” Adams said under his breath. “God damn it all to hell.”

Chapter Eleven

Near the end of the week, Rose summoned Lily’s coach and rode out to the Prices’ cottage, determined to find out the truth. She had stayed away for a week, but she couldn’t get the words of Cameron’s mother out of her mind. She had intended to honor the older woman’s wish for her to stay away, but damn it, she needed to know. Did Cameron love her? Mrs. Price had indicated he did. Yet Cam himself denied it.

But he had kissed her the previous week, a kiss filled with love and passion. Rose expected Evan to propose to her any day now. Before she could decide how to respond, she had to know the truth of Cam’s feelings.

Her heart thumped as the carriage stopped in front of Cameron’s cottage. Bracing herself to be strong, she descended with the help of Lily’s coachman. She breathed deeply and readied herself for a fight with Cameron’s mother, who had told her in no uncertain terms that she was never to return here. Rose knocked hesitantly on the door.

No response. She knocked more forcefully.

Again no answer. The door was slightly ajar so she opened it and went in. “Mrs. Price?” she called. “Cameron?”

She walked out of the small entryway and into the sitting area. She breathed in sharply, shocked. The house was vacant. The tattered chairs in the corner were gone. The worn brocade sofa was gone. The twangy pianoforte, gone. Quickly she ran from room to room. Everything was gone. She ran out the back door to the hired man’s cabin. The slipper tub was gone. The nightstand and the table and chairs were gone. But the bed, where she and Cameron had made love, remained, the covers still rumpled.

She walked to it and sat down, brought the quilt to her face and inhaled. Cameron’s spicy aroma still permeated the fabric. Slowly she lay down upon the bed, enfolding herself in Cam’s scent. He hadn’t taken the bed. He had left it.

He had left her.

She wept quietly into the pillow.

Several minutes later she rose from the bed, folding the quilt neatly. She would take it, as a token to remember her time with Cameron. He hadn’t wanted it or the bed. Apparently she had meant nothing to him after all. His mother had been mistaken. A huge sigh escaped Rose’s throat as she wiped her eyes and nose on the folded comforter and threw it back on the bed.

She would leave it. The time had come to say goodbye to Cam and what they had shared. She would get on with her life.

She would accept Evan’s proposal when it came.

* * * *

When Rose returned to Laurel Ridge, she was surprised to see Evan’s carriage. Although it was Friday, he and his father weren’t due to arrive until later that afternoon. She stepped out of the carriage and hurried into the mansion. She knew her eyes were red and swollen and her cheeks stained with tears. She nearly ran to the staircase, hoping to avoid Evan, but ran straight into Lucy.

“Goodness, dear, why are you in such a hurry?” Lucy widened her eyes. “What is the matter?”

“I’m sorry, Aunt Lucy, I should have been looking where I was going,” Rose replied, and then burst into tears.

“Darling girl, come with me.” Lucy led her up to the third floor, to her suite of rooms in the north wing. She rang for a tea tray, sat Rose down on a rich brown velvet sofa, and took her hand.

“Now, what on earth is going on?”

Rose’s sobs came in large gulps. “I…need to talk to someone,” she wept. “Usually it’s Lily I talk to, but she’s not here. And now… Oh, I don’t know what to do!”

“Goodness.”

Lucy rose and came back with a large handkerchief and a moist cloth. She gently wiped Rose’s face, which only made Rose cry harder as she remembered wiping Cameron’s face.

“There, there now. You can talk to me. Or if you’d rather, I’ll get your aunt or one of your cousins.”

“No, that’s not necessary,” Rose said. “In fact, I think you might be the perfect person to talk to.”

“I’ll help in any way I can.” Lucy swept the handkerchief over Rose’s nose again.

A knock on the door brought the tea tray.

“You take it sweet, don’t you?”

“Yes, just slightly.” Rose sniffled.

Lucy prepared the tea. “Here you are.” As she prepared another cup for herself, she said, “What in the world has you so upset?”

“I’m not sure where to begin,” Rose said.

“At the beginning, of course.”

“I…I’ve fallen in love, Aunt Lucy.”

“With Lord Evan?”

“No. It’s not Evan. I only wish it were. Life would be so much simpler that way.”

Lucy smiled. “Love is rarely simple. Believe me, I know.”

Rose cleared her throat and blew her nose noisily into the handkerchief. “I…I don’t want to pry, but Auntie Iris once told me that you were in love once, with a Scottish sailor.”

“He was Irish, actually. And yes, I was deeply in love with him.”

“How did you meet him?”

“I was not but seventeen. He was on shore leave and was visiting his aunt and uncle, who happened to live in the townhome next door to ours in London. Oh, he was splendid. He had a shock of thick red hair and a chiseled face that sculptors would envy. We took to each other right away. He had a month of leave, and we spent nearly every day together.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Oh, it was. Of course, my parents weren’t thrilled with the match. Our family wasn’t part of the nobility, you know. My father was a self-made man, a successful businessman with interests here and abroad. He had helped manage the estates of many aristocrats and his advice was quite sought after. He had high hopes that his daughters would marry into the peerage. And of course, Maggie did.”

“What exactly happened to your— What was his name?”

“Nolan. Nolan O’Brien.” Aunt Lucy smiled. “He and I became betrothed, much to my father’s chagrin. Nolan went back to sea, and he and I wrote each other every day.” Lucy rose, walked into a different room, and returned with a cluster of letters bound with red ribbon. The parchment was withered and browned with age. “I kept every letter he ever wrote me. I still read them sometimes.” She sighed. “Anyway, several months later, I had just turned eighteen, I got word that he had been lost at sea.” A tear glistened in the corner of Lucy’s eye.

“How sad. I’m so sorry, Aunt Lucy.”

“Well, it was near thirty-five years ago.”

“Why didn’t you ever marry? Surely a woman as beautiful as you must have had other offers.”

“I had a few in my day. About a month after Nolan died, Maggie became betrothed to the duke. They were married a week later, and I had no wish to stay at my father’s house, knowing how he had felt about Nolan, so Maggie was kind enough to bring me here. The first few years, when Maggie’s boys were young, she and the duke hosted many galas and house parties. I met a young earl who was quite taken with me, and I with him. And though I thought to marry him, in the end, I couldn’t. My feelings for him just didn’t match what I had felt for Nolan. Several years later, I was courted by a widowed viscount. He was also a very nice gentleman and I cared for him deeply, but I didn’t love him.” Lucy closed her eyes. “I suppose it was silly, looking back. I could have had a happy life with either one of them, and I truly would have loved to have children.”

“Why didn’t you try?”

“I just wasn’t willing to settle for less than what I felt for Nolan.”

“I understand,” Rose said. “I really do.”

“I’ve had a full life,” Lucy said. “Maggie and the duke treated me as one of the family, and I had a great relationship with Daniel and Morgan. They were almost like my own children.”

Rose smiled at the lovely woman sitting next to her. At fifty-two, Lucinda Landon was still beautiful, with pale blond hair slowly turning to white and sparkling green eyes. She had a nurturing nature that was unequaled. For an instant, Rose imagined herself thirty years from now, in Lucy’s place, living with Lily and Daniel as spinster Auntie Rose, forever pining for her one true love.

Of course, one giant difference glared between the two situations. Nolan hadn’t wanted to leave Lucy. He had died. Cameron left Rose intentionally. She would never have a bundle of love letters to give her comfort.

“Goodness.” Lucy embraced her. “Do you want to tell me what is going on?”

“Yes, yes,” Rose wept. “I need to tell someone.” She blew her nose again. “You must keep my confidence though.”

“Of course. You know I will.”

“Well,” Rose began, sniffling, “you know Mr. Price, the man who composed
Lily’s Waltz?
”

“Yes, of course. He seemed quite charming and attractive.”

“He is. Or was. I don’t know. But he’s a commoner. Completely unsuitable for me. While we worked together on the waltz for Lily, he made it quite clear that I was above his station, a snotty pampered lady of the peerage. But we were attracted to each other. I found out how he felt the night of the wedding ball. He, well, he had been drinking, and he wanted to dance with me. It was the most wonderful feeling to be in his arms.”

“Go on.”

“He and I…that is…I thought… Oh, I can’t bear this!”

Lucy tightened her hold on Rose and stroked her back. “There, there. It’s going to be all right.”

“I…I love him. And I thought he loved me. At least, he said he did. But he lied to me, Aunt Lucy. He lied to me so I would…so I would…”

“Oh dear, you don’t have to say any more, sweetheart.”

Rose let out a giant sob. “That’s what he called me. Sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I gave him everything. I gave him my body and my love. I gave him my soul. I would have lived with him anywhere. In squalor. I didn’t care that he was a commoner. A tenant. I would have learned to cook and clean. I would have taken care of him. I would have…” Rose trembled against Lucy.

“My goodness, you poor little thing,” Lucy consoled. “I can’t believe Cameron would treat you this way. I’ve known that boy since he was a babe. His father was a fine man, a hard worker, and his mother is intelligent and strong. They were good parents. I never would have believed that he could… Well, even
I
have misjudged a person in my day. He’s not worth this anguish, Rose.”

“Oh, but he is. He’s brilliant, really. His music touches me so deeply. I feel like it flows from his soul straight to my fingers when I play it. It’s amazing, the talent that he has. I would have followed him anywhere, done anything to be with him.”

“I know. I know.”

“Aunt Lucy, did you and Nolan ever…you know?”

Lucy smiled. “I’ve never told anyone this, not even Maggie. But yes, we did. Twice.”

“Did you ever regret it?”

“Not ever.”

“I don’t regret it either. It was my choice, and I loved him. I wanted him.” She sobbed again. “I miss him so. When will it stop hurting?”

“It will fade, dear. It always does.”

“It’s just that…I could have sworn he was sincere. The things he said to me, the way he… Well, obviously I was just too naive and simple-minded to see through him, I guess.”

“None of this is your fault.”

“I know. I don’t blame myself. I don’t blame him either, really. I…still love him.”

“I know.”

“I just love him with all of my heart. I gave him everything and he—” Rose clutched at her stomach as a wave of nausea enveloped her. “Oh dear, I think I’m going to be sick.”

Lucy hurried to fetch a basin, and Rose retched into it. Lucy smoothed her hair and wiped her mouth with a damp cloth.

“You poor thing.” She took the basin away and then returned. “Is that better?”

“Yes, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You’re distraught, dear. Anyone can see that. Emotions turn physical every now and then. Calm yourself down. It will be all right.”

Rose nodded. “But then there’s Evan. He’s been kind and gentle, and he cares for me and I for him. I’m fairly certain he’s planning to propose marriage to me. But I don’t love him. And I’m not sure if he loves me.”

“Many successful marriages are based on virtues other than love, dear.”

“I know. But you weren’t willing to settle for that.”

“No. But many do, without regrets.”

“Yes, I know.” Then, “Cameron doesn’t love me. He left me, actually. His family is gone from the land. I went to see him today. His mother, well, she intimated that he was in love with me, so I went to find out the truth. They were gone. I have no idea where they went. Even knowing how he treated me, the thought of never seeing him again is nearly unbearable.”

“I know.”

“But Evan… I don’t know what to do! And he’s here, Aunt Lucy. I saw his carriage when I came back.”

“Yes, he arrived early. Lord Brighton isn’t due until dinner time.”

“So now I’ll have to see Evan and pretend like nothing is wrong, and… I thought I had made up my mind to accept him, but now, after hearing about you and Nolan, I just don’t know.”

Lucy rocked Rose in her arms. “Don’t you worry about Evan right now. I’ll take care of you. You can lie in here for a while and rest, and then I’ll have my maid come and fix your hair. You don’t have to see Evan until you’re feeling up to it.”