Page 68 of A Late-Blooming Rose
Rose ignored his attempt to get her attention. “In New York, I’ve listened to many enthusiastic outpourings from library patrons eager to talk over gardening books and plants. Their yards might be small, but many make the most of what they have.”
Mr. Marsden nodded. “I consider myself fortunate to be surrounded by natural beauty.”
Although a little surprised by Andre’s lack of participation—after all, he was the one with the conservatory and park plans—she continued engaging their reticent host in conversation, enjoying watching him bloom like one of his shy plants receiving sunshine.
Andre laid a hand on the table. “Perhaps you’ve heard,” he said in a gruff tone. “We are soliciting donations of books for the library.”
Mr. Marsden clutchedLes Liliaceesto his chest, his gaze flying to the buffet, an anguished expression on his face—the thought of parting with his treasures obviously too great to bear.
Rose wanted to laugh and, at the same time, kick Andre under the table for his blunt approach to the shy man. She did neither, not wanting to hurt Mr. Marsden’s feelings. Andre’s, though, were an entirely different matter. “You don’t have to donate your own books,” she said gently. “The other possibility is to donate money for books or to order new copies of your favorites to donate.”
“I can do that.” Mr. Marsden’s head bobbed. He tapped the book still held tightly to his chest. “This one. Good to have a copy for others to read.”
Rose smiled at him. “And dream away the winter.”
His brow crinkled. “Better order two. One won’t be enough.”
“I believe you’re right.”
“Bill me.” He glanced out the window for a moment, squared his shoulders, and then looked back at Rose. “Also order one calledLanguage of Flowers. It’s a book for children by Kate Greenaway. I think they’ll find the colored illustrations and poems interesting.”
“Oh, yes! That book is charming. Perhaps adults will enjoy the poems and illustrations, too.” Rose caught Mr. Marsden’s gaze. “Thank you.” She glanced at the hutch. “Perhaps, at another time I can look through your other books. I’m used to a city library, and I’m sure there’s more need for horticulture books here in Sweetwater Springs. I need to know which ones to order. Maybe you can advise me.”
“Rose,” Mr. Marsden said in a tone of wonder. “If I’d had daughters, I’d have given them all flower names. Your parents chose well.”
Andre suddenly stood. “Best not keep the Falabellas waiting in the cold. We should go.” His words were clipped, with barely any drawl at all.
Although Rose wanted to shoot him an annoyed look, she kept her gaze on Mr. Marsden and pinned her smile in place.
Their reluctant host didn’t seem at all bothered by Andre’s abruptness. In fact, he didn’t even seem to notice. He glanced out the window for a third time, and this time, when he looked back, his smile appeared more confident. “I’d be delighted to show you my books.”
Rose stood and smoothed her skirts. “After Christmas, then, when I’m in need of dreaming.” She discreetly peeked in the direction of the window, wondering what caught the man’s attention. But all she saw was the neighboring back yard and a woman laughing as her dog frolicked in the snow.Is that the one he’s a rival with?“Will you be attending the Christmas Eve service tonight and the party at the hotel, Mr. Marsden?”
He tilted his head, his fingers drumming nervously on the table. “The service, of course. I hadn’t thought about attending the party.” He straightened, met her gaze, and smiled in a way that made him appear quietly handsome. “But perhaps I will.”
“Wonderful. How lovely to have a new acquaintance to exchange visits with.” Rose clasped her hands together in a stronger display of enthusiasm than she felt. But she sensed the man needed the extra encouragement. “We’ll see you later tonight.”
“Here.” Mr. Marsden thrustLes Liliaceesinto her hands. “I’ll let you borrow this for a bit. Then you won’t have to wait to dream.”
Sensing how great was the man’s sacrifice of his precious book, Rose’s enthusiasm for the loan was genuine, and she profusely thanked him. All the way to the sleigh, she held the book close to her chest. Once inside, she lowered the book to her lap and her smile wavered.
Without displaying his customary good cheer, Andre climbed into the sleigh and pulled the fur over them.
Dreaming about plants and gardens would be far better than dreaming of a man who wants only my friendship.
Rose hugged the book tightly and began a light, almost one-sided, conversation, determined not to let Andre see how he affected her.
* * *
Watching Dale Marsden transform under Rose’s attention from shy and bumbling to expressive and confident had envy practically leaking out of Andre’s pores. He could barely stand to remain in the same room with the man, especially when he heavy-handedly flirted.
No, to be fair, the envious feelings started when he’d watched the love Elias and Marian Masters had displayed, and he couldn’t help contrasting their relationship with his and Rose’s. Both couples of similar ages, both with a past of young love and then rejection and estrangement.Elias and Marian, however, found their happily ever after, while Rose and I are destined to remain apart.ß
Worse, he was fated to watch bounders like Dale Marsden courthisRose.
He nodded at the driver of a passing sleigh.
Well, truthfully, Marsden wasn’t a bounder.Andre had liked him well enough before he’d shown an interest in Rose.
