Page 52 of A Late-Blooming Rose
Delia went on tiptoe and pressed her cheek to Andre’s. “We’ll probably be home late, maybe even after dark. Don’t worry about us if we are.”
“Rose and I will be fine.” He jerked a thumb toward the front door. “Now gather up everyone and be off with you.”
Delia exchanged a triumphant glance with Cora. “Very well.” She kissed his cheek. “Before we leave though, I’ll have Tilda bring out the willowbark tea for Rose, China tea for Papa, and slices from one of the plum cakes Cook baked today to take along.”
Seemed only a few bustling moments later, the house was empty, and the surrey with Joshua, Delia, Micah, and Cora, as well as the coach containing the servants, pulled away from the house, leaving Rose alone with Andre. Her heart began to pound.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Through the parlor window, Andre watched his household drive away, conscious of Rose at his side, her body tense. Ever since her arrival she’d been skittish with him. Not that he could blame her.A heart wound and twenty-two years of silence lies between us.
As the quiet of the house settled around them, Andre realized he might have just made a mistake in staying behind. Although he loved having Rose in his home, spending more time together, just the two of them, wasn’t a good idea.
Rose turned away from the window. “I can’t believe I let her go.”
“Alis grave nil,” he said in Latin.
“Nothing is too heavy with wings.” Rose quoted the English translation aloud. “Marty would say that about Cora. He called her his little bird and trusted she would fly. Now she’s flying the nest far sooner than I’m ready for.” She sighed. “At least she’s flying away from the gossip.”
He shared Rose’s concerns. “Perhaps it’s best Cora made her stand at the tea party yesterday because so many influential ladies were there and approved. They’ll keep the tide of sentiment firmly in her favor.”
She held up her hands in a helpless gesture. “I guess all I can do is wish for gentle winds.”
“Gales come to all of us.” Andre remembered himself at that age and understood Cora’s determination to do what she believed was right, regardless of what loved ones thought. “We must hope Cora’s are far in the distance, and her wings will be stronger by then.”
Rose’s lips trembled.
A longing to kiss her seized Andre. He forced himself to look away from her mouth.
Just before everyone left, Rufus had carried in the laden butler’s tray table and set it down between Andre’s wing chair and the sofa. The tray held two teapots—one smaller than the other—a pair of cups and saucers, two plates, half a plum cake, and an assortment of small sandwiches. Probably some were dill and cucumber, which he knew Rose liked, and the others smoked salmon and cream cheese—his favorite.
The scent of the two types of tea wafting his way reminded him of his duties as a host. “Come, my dear.” He took Rose’s elbow and guided her toward the sofa. “Let’s get some willowbark tea into you and, hopefully, get rid of your headache.”
Andre didn’t miss the grimace she made at the tea tray. “Now, now,” he teased. “I happen to know you have a fondness for plum cake.”
She skeptically eyed him. “I suppose Cook somehow found out about that little detail.”
He raised his eyebrows, pretending innocence. “Somehow.”
Rose shook her head. But the small turn up of her lips betrayed that she wasn’t really annoyed. She started to reach for the nearest teapot. “Which is which, do you think?”
“ThatI can answer.” He playfully tapped her hands away. “This fat pot here—” he touched the top “—has always held medicinal brew.” He picked up the teapot in question. “Now, relax, and I shall serve you.”
Looking content, Rose leaned back against the sofa and watched his preparations.
Andre poured the herbal tea into a cup, stirred in honey, and set the spoon on the saucer, handing it to her. “Drink up.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
He prepared his tea, then cut the plum cake. Picking up the tongs, he placed a slice on her plate and accompanied the cake with a cucumber sandwich and a fork.
Still holding the cup and saucer, she accepted the plate, setting it on her side of the butler’s tray. Picking up the spoon, Rose stirred her medicinal tea. “Delia told me the secret you two have.” She raised her gaze to hold his.
Andre sent her a sharp look.That daughter of mine promised to keep my weak heart a secret.“She wasn’t supposed to say anything.”
“I suspected. For some reason, Delia wanted me to know and said you’d never tell me.”
He clenched his jaw.My daughter broke her promise.
