Merry Misrule - St. Clair, Ellie Page 0,31
at him skeptically, but he saw he had caught Cecily’s attention. She leaned over and whispered in her husband’s ear, and Elijah heaved a true sigh of relief that both of them didn’t still possess a turn, or else he might have lost it all.
“What kind of flower is it?” Cecily asked, although she leaned back as though trying not to show her interest.
“It is rather exotic,” he said, although in truth it was an ordinary rose — one given to him by his nurse who he at first thought had been sweet on him, but, as it turned out, was only pining for her own lost love, to whom he bore a resemblance. “I cannot say that I actually know its name. In Portuguese, it is called a ‘rosa vermelha.’”
“A rosa vermelha?” Caroline said, wrinkling her nose. “But that just means—”
“I have heard of those before,” Joanna jumped in, “but I cannot say that I have ever had the opportunity to see one in person.”
“Well, then, this is your lucky day,” he said. “There is quite a story behind it, as well.”
“Oh, do tell,” Lady Oxford said, clapping her hands together. “I love a good story.”
“Very well,” he said, settling himself into his seat as he let his imagination roam. “It begins at Christmas — although the Christmas of our story was nothing like the party we currently find ourselves enjoying.”
He saw he had their attention now, and he warmed to his tale.
“There was a woman — is there not always a woman? — she was beautiful, of course, with jet-black hair and eyes the shade of violet. Every man who laid eyes on her became smitten, vowing that he would win her affections, but none never did. For her love was held for one man, and one man alone. But he was gone, away at war, and she wondered if he would ever return. She watched for him, waited for him, never stopped looking out the window to see if he might appear. Day after day, the path to her house remained empty, but for the soldiers beyond, marching by as they went to battle, reminding her of his absence in her life.
“Then, that Christmas, as she went to lock the door before going to bed for the night, a shadow on the path caught her eye. He stumbled, but forced himself up the walk and to her door. He didn’t even have a chance to knock before she had it open, and went flying into his arms.”
He looked up and met Joanna’s eyes. Her lips were parted, her green eyes glossy as she waited to hear the end of the story.
“It was her lost love. He had to lean on her to make it into the house, and she led him over to lie down. He looked up at her, his eyes glassy, but was able to lift a hand and stroke her hair back away from her face. ‘I love you,’ he said.”
He paused for a moment, having to fight the lump that had formed in his own throat, knowing how close he had been to becoming this man.
“And then what?” Caroline demanded.
“Then he breathed his last,” Elijah said and they all looked at him in dismay. “She kissed his cheek, and as she did, his arm fell to the floor. Within his hand was this flower. She hadn’t seen it before. He had picked it for her. She pressed the flower into a book — that book, actually…” he pointed to Lady Oxford’s hand, “and saved it. She said that whoever possesses it will always know true love.”
“That’s beautiful,” Joanna breathed, although he noted that his siblings were both still looking at him as though unsure whether or not to believe him — which was fair.
“How do you have it?” Lady Oxford asked.
“She nursed me back to health,” he said with a small smile of remembrance. “She said I reminded her of him.”
“So she gave it to you?” Cecily asked, and he nodded.
“The army was coming. They were going to take over her house and all of her possessions. She wanted me to keep it so that it wasn’t lost when they did. She said she would rather someone had it who would take the best of care for it. So here it is. Since you are all so dear and close to me, I know that it would be fine in the hands of any of you.
“Now,” he said, breaking the melancholic tension, “I