Rose Gardner's Florist (The Providence Street Shops #2) - Bonnie Dee Page 0,12
gentlemanly to toy with a woman’s affections or make unwanted advances. I believe he is quite lonely and tired of solitude, although he would not say so. Clearly, he enjoys your company and that is sufficient. At any rate, Guy and I will be at hand to ease any awkwardness at this dinner.”
“I could not go without you there.” Rose cradled her steaming cup. “Now tell me, what is happening with your wedding plans? Will you set a date soon?”
Hattie gave her a sharp look. “Did Guy tell you to ask me that?”
“Heavens, no! I only ask because I am interested in your plans. Why? Are you having second thoughts about marrying him?”
Her friend exhaled and leaned back in her seat. “No second thoughts. Of course I want to marry him. I love the silly devil. But something holds me back from setting a date. I’m not quite sure what it is.”
Knowing about the great heartbreak that had damaged Hattie at a young age, Rose guessed she might know the answer. “Do you trust in Guy’s affection for you?”
“Yes. I do.”
“You believe his feelings will not alter and he would never stray from you in the future?”
Hattie’s habitual calm ruffled and she shifted nervously. “He had many lovers before we met. How do I know he would not lapse into old ways some day?”
“Because it is Guy! However he may have behaved before, he is not the same man now. He loves you beyond all reason and would never betray you. I feel that in my heart.” Rose pressed her palm to her chest. “Besides, he knows if he ever hurt you in any way, I’d take a butcher knife to the part of him that did the straying.”
Hattie choked on a sip of tea as she laughed. “I believe you would.” Then she sobered. “I must admit, I don’t actually worry about putting my trust in him. What I fear is losing my freedom. I own a shop, work every day, and have my own flat to retire to. No matter how forward-thinking Guy’s views on female emancipation, I fear I might become simply a wife with expected duties. Perhaps he will wish me to work less and devote more time to running our household. As for children, I’m not quite sure—”
“That you are ready,” Rose completed her thought.
Rose recalled how her mother had scolded her for refusing the Goggins boy at age sixteen. His dad’s a butcher. You’ll never have to pluck another bleedin’ chicken unless it’s for your own stewpot. Chances like this don’t come along every day, girl. Soon you’ll lose that pretty face and figure, and end up wed to some mangy fellow who drinks away his paycheck. Mum had shot a long-suffering look at her husband.
Although Rose had been fond of the lad and certainly enjoyed kissing him, she was wise enough to know she was not in love with him. Choosing to marry must mean a great deal more than finding a way out of the cannery, she had known even at a young age. Lifelong commitment required a great deal of sacrifice.
“I understand,” Rose continued. “Our friend Mr. Hardy must simply remain patient until you are ready to commit to a date.”
Hattie nodded. “That is precisely what I want, but recently whenever we are together, even if he doesn’t mention the subject, I feel it in the air between us. Soon I must address the issue, for we can’t go on like this forever.” She paused. “And I do want to marry him and share a home. I truly do, but…”
“You aren’t quite ready,” Rose repeated.
Hattie smiled widely. “You do understand. Thank you for listening to my fears.”
“That’s what friends do, and I will always be here to share your troubles with you.” Rose changed the subject. “Now, tell me, what sort of gown is appropriate to wear to a fancy dinner party?”
“I will find you something in my closet, for we are of a like size.” Hattie eyed Rose critically. “I’ve just made the sweetest, smartest hat that would suit your hair and complexion perfectly.”
Hours later, Rose returned to her shop with a beaded blue gown in a box, a pair of satin slippers to match, and a tiny feathered creation to top off the ensemble. As she climbed the stairs to her flat, she considered what Hattie had told her about Carmody.
He might be a kind and respectful gentleman as Hattie had said, but in Rose’s experience lads who liked