Rose Gardner's Florist (The Providence Street Shops #2) - Bonnie Dee Page 0,26

are finished and I have hired a horticulturalist to advise me on the plantings.”

“I’m so pleased to hear it, although you might have consulted with me. How many happy memories I have of that room. Now that you appear to have developed a fondness for plants, perhaps you might like to tour my gardens after supper.”

“Certainly, so long as there is no further talk of Lady Smyth’s party.”

His mother held up her hand. “I promise. I am not one to belabor a point, you know.”

With dinner finally finished, Rupert and Virginia walked to the stables with Father, while Mother took Will’s arm to stroll through the brightly blooming rose garden. How his Rose would love her namesakes here, Will thought as he inhaled the sweet aroma.

Mother pointed out each variety, calling them by name. Then she abruptly stopped walking and her gaze remained fixed on a drooping cluster of pink Damasks. “Son, I would venture to bring up a delicate subject with you. I am loath to broach it, but—” she took a breath— “I feel it is time.”

Will braced for a barrage about the many reasons to marry and sire children. “Mother, there is no need. I will attend the gala if it is that important to you. I will be nice to the young ladies and dance with them despite my two left feet.”

She clicked her tongue impatiently. “Please, allow me to speak. This is not easy. What I wish to say is that I—your father and I— understand you may remain a confirmed bachelor all your life.” She exhaled with a whoosh as if letting go of something she had held in for a long time.

“Yes, I am a bachelor and likely to remain so.” He thought again of pretty Rose, who was not interested in him, and knew he spoke the truth.

“You mistake my meaning. I am talking about a specific sort of bachelor. Someone like your Uncle Leopold, if you take my meaning. If such is the case, I will stop driving you toward marital prospects and we will speak no more of the matter ever.”

Will took a moment to for the gears to whirr and her meaning to click into place. His great uncle had a private secretary, a very nice chap who had served Leopold for many years. It was understood by the family, and probably most of society, that this companion was something more than an employee. The longevity of their bond suggested something much deeper.

“No! That is to say I am not that sort of confirmed bachelor.” Will wanted to laugh and to cry at the touching thought that his parents had not only discussed his sexual preference, but also decided to accept him if he were of the queer bent.

“No, Mother,” he continued more calmly. “I admire ladies quite a lot actually. I simply don’t present myself well to them. We have little in common, the ones you introduce me to at any rate. If I were to choose a woman to wed merely to have a wife, it would not be fair to either of us. I long for someone with whom I might exchange ideas and conversation and laughter. When the right woman comes along, I will know it.”

Rose could be all of those things, his heart chimed in.

His mother regarded him curiously. “You’re holding out for some fairytale version of love.”

For the first time, he wondered if the judgment he’d always felt implied in her tone had perhaps been in his own mind. “I suppose you could say so, but I don’t see it that way.”

“Very well, then.” She nodded in a decided manner Will knew all too well. She’d worn the same look when commandeering Rupert and Virginia’s wedding or when convincing the church congregation to donate more generously toward building repairs. This was his mother’s expression when she got things accomplished.

“I shall continue to present potential candidates, while attempting not to be too overbearing,” she promised. “I know of a bookish, very sweet spinster who has been on the shelf for a number of years. Perhaps she might suit.”

“Perhaps.” Will pulled her into a brief, fierce embrace. “Do you know you truly are a remarkable woman and mother?”

“I do. Your father often tells me so.”

When his familial duties were finally over and he’d driven back to London, Will flopped onto his well-worn leather chair in his library haven.

He thought about Mother’s amazing pronouncement, and he thought about his recent attachment that might have headed slowly