Rose Gardner's Florist (The Providence Street Shops #2) - Bonnie Dee Page 0,15

me for help, Miss Sweet.”

“Please, call me Candace. I think we’ve moved beyond formalities, don’t you? Thank you again for listening to me.”

“We women must support each other, for those louts who blunder around trying to control our lives never will.”

Candace waved goodbye and stepped into the waiting taxi.

Rose watched the vehicle drive away. She had not expected the evening to take such a strange turn. Candace’s story had certainly served to drive trifling worries about a dinner party from her mind. She might not know the girl very well, but sharing a familiar feeling of belittlement had bonded them. Rose had found a kindred spirit in the soft-spoken young lady with the sad brown eyes.

Chapter Seven

Will studied the dining room table. The only new thing upon its surface was an arrangement of fresh flowers, purchased from another florist since it would be strange to have Miss Gardener make the centerpiece for a party she attended. Every other item was ancient, from the linen tablecloth and napkins to the silver plate, china, and glasses featuring the Carmody family crest. Even though the cutlery and glassware were polished to a shine, the overall impression was old-fashioned and dull.

Nearly all the furniture in the townhouse was a century old. Will had done little to modernize, beyond installing electricity and converting the room adjoining the library into an annex for more books. The idea of refreshing the décor hadn’t occurred to him until this moment, when he observed the place as Rose might when she arrived in less than half an hour.

Will had dressed earlier, but hurried to his room to review his reflection in the dressing room mirror. Like Guy, he eschewed the services of a valet, so he stood alone, gazing at himself and realizing there was little he could do to change his looks. He had tamed his wavy locks with a wet comb since he couldn’t bear the slick feeling of hair oil, and already his hair flopped about at will. Why hadn’t he sought a barber for a trim?

At least his suit was new. His tailor had been thrilled to outfit him in a modern double-breasted suit jacket with narrow lapels. Will appeared more like stylish Guy, and less like some hermit uncle emerging from an attic in a decade-old jacket.

He forced himself to draw his shoulders back. Guy had advised him to take advantage of his height rather than slump to hide it. “Ladies love a fellow who appears confident. You wish to make a good impression on Miss Gardener, don’t you?”

“I don’t intend to impress her. I only seek her advice on the best plants for the conservatory. This dinner party is to ensure her visit will be properly chaperoned.”

“Ah, I see, so you wouldn’t be at all tempted to kiss her if the opportunity arose,” Guy had teased.

Rather than slap the smirk off his friend’s face, Will had kept quiet.

But a seed once planted would grow, and ever since those words were spoken, his active brain envisioned various scenarios that might end in a kiss.

He settled his spectacles on his nose, for he couldn’t see well enough to get by without them, and stared at himself again. His eyes were enlarged and the glasses only brought attention to his big nose. The man in the mirror shook his head. Hopeless. No kisses would ever be coming his way, so he might as well erase such imaginings from his mind.

With only minutes before his guests’ arrival, Will sat in the drawing room with the compendium on horticulture opened to a random page. His stomach flipped when the doorbell rang, and he listened to Reardon welcome his guests.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, he resumed staring at the book as if fascinated. His pulse raced, but he waited until Reardon announced the guests before setting the book aside and rising to greet them.

“Welcome! So good of you to come. Do sit down.”

Hardy handed off a bottle of wine for Reardon to pour them an aperitif. “Happy to be here, old chap, and looking forward to seeing the improvements on the conservatory.”

“Your home is charming,” Miss Glover said. “Thank you for the dinner invitation.”

Will was already at ease with the woman who had transformed Hardy from an aimless bachelor into a purposeful man. Hattie’s smile helped settle his nerves.

But then he looked at Miss Gardener and his wits fled completely. She was stunning. A deep blue gown made her eyes even brighter. The bodice framed her neck and