Rose Gardner's Florist (The Providence Street Shops #2) - Bonnie Dee Page 0,23

footsteps pass by. Then I returned to my room, dressed myself, and came directly here. I did not pause to pack or to plan. Now I have no idea what to do. If I return, I must play the dangerous game of putting him off while still living under his roof. I will not say yes to his proposal, of course. The idea of such a marriage is unthinkable. But if I refuse him, what might he do? Keep me locked up until I comply? Declare me mentally unfit and send me for treatment of some sort? Or worst of all, force himself on me in a physical manner? Possessing my fortune is probably the larger part of his keen interest, but I fear there is more to it than that.”

“The bloody bastard wants to control you and have power over you, because it makes him randy,” Rose declared.

Candace nearly smiled at her outburst. “I have not heard that expression, but I can guess its meaning and fear it is the case. I apologize for bringing my burdens to you. I suppose I must go back at some point to collect my things, but after that…”

“It does not seem safe for you to return home. Stay here until you have gathered your thoughts and decided what to do next. My rooms are upstairs. Please, pass the night, and feel free to wear my clothing.”

“That would be too much to ask. I have a little money I’ve managed to save. Enough to rent a room, I hope, although I’m not really sure. As I said, my guardian has never trusted me with spending money, insisting on paying my bills for me.”

“If you are to build a future without him, you are likely to need every penny of what you have. Stop the night here, and perhaps by morning your way forward will seem clearer.”

“Really? Are you positive? I would be more grateful than you could ever know.”

Rose stood. “No arguments. I’ll show you where everything is.”

She felt some trepidation as she showed the well-bred young lady around her simple flat. What had seemed homey to Rose now appeared well-used and cheap. But Candace exclaimed, “How charming! Your home is so cozy.”

After making her guest comfortable, Rose realized the hour was growing late. “I’m sorry I must leave you for a bit. I must attend a family supper tonight. Please, make yourself at home. Eat anything you wish from the larder. I will return as quickly as I possibly can. I would not go at all, but there is a bit of a family emergency I must attend to.”

Lovely almond shaped eyes widened. “Oh no! I hope it is not serious. How ungracious I’ve been, speaking at length about my worries and never asking you one thing about yourself. When you return, I promise to offer a listening ear.”

Rose smiled. “I imagine by the time I’m through with my family I shall be too upset to do anything other than curse like a sailor. This is not likely to be a pleasant evening.”

Chapter Eight

She had forgotten how crowded Mum and Dad’s flat could be with the entire family there, along with extra relatives, friends, and neighbors shifting in and out. There’d never been a large enough table to accommodate them all. People perched where they could with a bowl full of the ham, which Rose had brought, and Mum’s watery cabbage soup. Her mother had been quick to scold her for not bringing smoked mackerel as requested. Eat last, in case there ain’t enough to go around, she advised.

At least the sponge cake Rose brought made her little niece and nephew cheer. Somebody showed gratitude for her effort.

Sweating bodies, bellowing voices, and lack of fresh air made the packed room a chaotic blur of noise and motion. Rose felt like a bit of flotsam floating on this rough sea. These were her people, yet she felt no more akin to them than strangers she might meet on the street. Her arrival was hardly noted since everyone was in the midst of an argument about who should pay for Arietta’s wedding party.

“Barnes can afford it,” Dad shouted. “Let him foot the bill. Least he can do since he got her up the duff.”

“Gawd’s sake, Dad! Don’t be such a skinflint. It’s me weddin’ and you ought ta pay.” Arietta’s face was nearly as red as her hair. A little mound already showed beneath her dress, making Rose wonder exactly how long Gus Barnes’s