Page 18 of The Perfect Rose

Chapter Thirteen

Rose needed to pull herself together. It wasn’t as if she had expected this conversation to be easy. She’d lain awake all night thinking over what she could say. In the end, honesty was the best answer. But being honest was proving to be difficult and quite painful. Besides, she realized she had no idea what her top priority was.

She felt, more than saw, Mr. Hastings sit on a stone next to her. His presence produced a mixture of snow and fire in her soul.

He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the clear, running water. “Everyone should be given a chance to make their life what they want it to be.”

She took a steadying breath and blinked back the last of her unshed tears. “What should happen in this world and what does happen are often very different things. A climbing boy for a chimney sweep should have an opportunity to eat two meals a day, but only one in a hundred likely does. I have more opportunities and luxuries than most.”

He was quiet for a long minute. As the silence stretched, Rose became convinced she’d said something wrong. And the more she thought about it, she was certain she had said many things wrong. It was an odd feeling; she’d done everything just as she’d been taught for so long, letting down her guard felt equal parts freedom and guilt.

Mr. Hastings cleared his throat. “I’m ashamed that I have judged you so harshly, Lady Rose. I am sorry.”

He was the last person that should be apologizing to her. Well, maybe not the last . . . but certainly not the first. “Please, do not pity me. I have enough of that for myself. But I would appreciate your help. If there is anything I can do to garner interest in a gentleman here, you might be able to guide me. I do not relish the idea of marrying someone as dull-witted and unkind as Mr. Dillard.”

Mr. Hastings shifted on the rock, showing some of his discomfort. “I don’t think you need much help catching a man’s attention.”

He was technically right. She knew that she caught attention; it was keeping it that was the problem. “I get the feeling that you are trying to spare my feelings, Mr. Hastings. If you don’t speak your mind, there will be no hope for Miriam. My mother will only get worse as my time here gets shorter.”

“We can’t have that now, can we?” he chuckled. Dragon ran through the clearing and jumped up on his master with his two front legs. Rose flinched but quickly recovered once she realized the dog cared only for his friend. Mr. Hastings scratched behind Dragon’s ears as he continued. “Often times, a person doesn’t learn to appreciate what is right in front of them until it’s gone.”

That was true enough. She hadn’t realized how precious her time was until that devastating night when her parents had doubled her dowry. It was only now that she counted every week and day she had left before her life was permanently altered by a marriage alliance.

Mr. Hastings stood and paced at the stream’s edge. “Remember, Lady Rose, that I am not going to marry. But only Miriam knows that. Jealousy can drive a person to act quite carelessly. If I acted the part of a man falling in love, it might spur others in our party to become more bold in their intentions toward you. In fact, our walk today would give an excellent reason for my change of action.”

Rose stood up and spun away from him to think. Could that work? Since Mr. Hastings himself never planned to marry, she wouldn’t be in danger of hurting his feelings if someone else stepped in to take his place willingly. She would have to play hard to get for Mr. Hastings, and it would help her look desirable. She felt his hand on her shoulder, and a current of energy erupted across her skin, raising the hair on her arms, but she tried to ignore it. She turned slowly, her eyes downcast, biting her bottom lip in contemplation.

“Do you really think it would be enou . . . Mr. Hastings! Your sting, it’s still swelling!” Her gaze had caught on his neck and the space just above his cravat was bright red and swollen.

“I am well aware. It is nothing. Though my cravat seems to be tied too tightly.” He shrugged and let his hand drop from her shoulder.

Rose’s breaths started coming fast. How could he possibly say it was nothing? Swelling like that had brought her sister, Lavender, close to death more than once. “You said you would ask for me if it continued to spread. Why didn’t you? Oh, take off your cravat. This will never do.” She turned to look down the path to the man trailing behind them as a chaperone. “Please, come help me with Mr. Hastings’s sting,” she called.

The man jogged to the space where they stood.

“Take off that cravat or I’ll do it for you.” She put her hands on her hips. “I need to see the extent of the swelling.”

Mr. Hastings looked from her to the other man back and forth a couple times before he started to move. “I’ll have you know that I’ve never had any woman demand I take my clothes off in front of her.” He winked.

She felt the heat in her cheeks and would have wagered it matched the magenta she saw on his neck, but she pushed her embarrassment away. “There is a reason I called our chaperone here.” She fiddled with a hidden pocket in her dress, her fingers trembling with fear from past memories of treating her sister, Lavender. She pulled out a small vial of her own rose water. She had steeped the rose petals from their garden back home herself. Each batch of rose water she made was as undiluted as possible. She learned early on that if the water ratio was too high, it drastically reduced the effectiveness of her treatment for Lavender. Therefore, the rose water one could purchase was simply not strong enough to be truly effective for her sister; it was made more for beauty than for medicine.

When Mr. Hastings finished with his neckcloth, he handed it to Rose. “A token, my lady.”

“You are incorrigible! It’s not a handkerchief.” She found herself folding it over the crook of her arm and smiling anyway. Even so, her breathing was becoming difficult. Seeing him without his cravat brought back the image of him with his shirt open, and she seriously considered running back to the house. That, however, would only start rumors she wasn’t willing to face, especially as she was in possession of an article of his clothing. She took a long breath and focused on her task as she examined the size of the swelling. It wasn’t as large an area as she had suspected. Still, it made her nervous. “Have you put anything on this yet?”

“My housekeeper sent up some calamine lotion last night. I applied some then and again this morning.”

“You’re lucky it hasn’t gotten worse,” Rose muttered as she pulled out the stopper on her vial. She shook her head and replaced the stopper. He’d need to wash the area before she applied the rose water. She didn’t know what reaction might occur otherwise. “I need you to splash some water from the stream onto your neck before I put this on.”

He cocked one eyebrow but did as she asked.

The chaperone doffed his hat and spoke to her while Mr. Hastings was kneeling down by the stream, Dragon wagging his tail at his side. “You seem a dab hand at what yer doin’ miss. How does that come to happen?”

She gave a wry smile to the man. “My youngest sister has rather extreme reactions to bee stings. I’ve treated her a dozen times or so over the years. She seems to attract bees more than a flower does.”

“Mr. Hastings is lucky to have you about then. I wouldn’t want anything serious to come upon him from the likes of a bee.”

Rose nodded her appreciation for his concern and thanks.