Rose Gardner's Florist (The Providence Street Shops #2) - Bonnie Dee Page 0,20
we take a month long gallivant about the continent?”
“Margaret could live above the shop and manage it during your absence. You would remain in close contact with her via telegram. If anything dire should occur, we would cut our trip short and return.” Guy showed he had considered the matter. “After we have settled into our home together I would certainly not expect you to become some sort of hausfrau. When we marry, your independence will not be in jeopardy, I promise.”
Hattie sucked in her lower lip and frowned. “I imagine at some point we might have children, which would change everything.”
“There are nannies,” Guy replied.
“I wouldn’t want my little ones raised by a stranger. I plan to spend time with them.”
“As do I. And as a gentleman of means and leisure, I will have many hours to devote to our progeny.”
“You, caring for children?”
“Since I am rather a child myself, I would be a wonderful playmate, and Nanny could help a bit with the looking after. I would bring the children to see you at work whenever you wish. You might hire a second assistant if you want more free days. Trust me, I’ve considered this from all angles. I will be the best sort of father, providing excellent attention and fun times for all. Discipline too,” he added quickly.
Will stared at his melted sorbet. The discussion was almost too personal to witness.
But Hattie’s abrupt snort of laughter made him look up.
“You would be!” she said warmly. “I can’t imagine a more loving man to father a child, nor a more supportive husband. So, Mr. Hardy, if you are still willing to marry a quite stubborn and often distrustful woman, I would like to set a date for our wedding. What about late autumn? We could spend the cold winter months touring Greece and Italy. Would you marry me in fall?”
“I will!” Guy pronounced enthusiastically.
Will glanced at Rose, who grinned at him, clearly delighted by the unexpected turn in the conversation. She lifted her glass. “To the happy couple.”
“Here, here!” Will agreed. “May you enjoy a long and joyous life together. To paraphrase Plato, a true union is that of disparate souls complementing each other, thus growing in compassion, affection and love.”
As everyone drank the toast, Will wondered if he could ever find such a so-called “soul mate.” Rose Gardener had made it clear she had no interest in him, yet he couldn’t help his gaze returning to her during the avid discussion of wedding plans that followed.
At the end of the night, Miss Gardener assured him when next they met, she would have a plan to present. “We will design a room that will be a quiet retreat for you, a place of solitude and peace.”
More solitude was the last thing he needed, and peace and quiet were quite overrated, Will thought as he saw his guests out the door. But at least he would have an ongoing reason to see Miss Gardener. Even if it was only for her friendship and gardening expertise, that would be worth everything.
Chapter Eight
Rose stripped the stem of another larkspur as vivid a blue as the day’s sky. She attached the delicate flower to a thin stave for support and plunged it into an array of larkspurs and hydrangea blossoms. Blue was what Lady Cromwell had requested, so blue she would get.
The repetitive motion gave her mind plenty of time to wander to her plans for Mr. Carmody’s conservatory and to the man himself. Since the dinner party several days earlier, both had rarely been out of her thoughts.
Upon first entering his home, she’d been overawed by her surroundings. But talking with Carmody made her realize even high status did not prevent a person from feeling lonely sometimes. Rose found herself missing thoughtful, soft-spoken Mr. Carmody with his gentle ways. Now that he’d stopped making excuses to buy flowers, she would like to see his towering figure fill her doorway once more. But, since she’d disabused him of any romantic notions about her, that was not likely to happen.
Why, precisely, had she driven him off?
Her feelings toward him had shifted somewhere along the way. Thoughts of him now started a little wriggle in her stomach. But warring with that interest was the knowledge that nothing could come of any special friendship that might develop between them. So why start what could not come to any good end?
The shop bell summoned her from the work room and her thoughts. Because she was thinking