Rose Gardner's Florist Read online

  Chapter Eight

  Rose stripped the stem of another larkspur as vivid a blue as the day’s sky. She attached the delicate flower to a thin stave for support and plunged it into an array of larkspurs and hydrangea blossoms. Blue was what Lady Cromwell had requested, so blue she would get.

  The repetitive motion gave her mind plenty of time to wander to her plans for Mr. Carmody’s conservatory and to the man himself. Since the dinner party several days earlier, both had rarely been out of her thoughts.

  Upon first entering his home, she’d been overawed by her surroundings. But talking with Carmody made her realize even high status did not prevent a person from feeling lonely sometimes. Rose found herself missing thoughtful, soft-spoken Mr. Carmody with his gentle ways. Now that he’d stopped making excuses to buy flowers, she would like to see his towering figure fill her doorway once more. But, since she’d disabused him of any romantic notions about her, that was not likely to happen.

  Why, precisely, had she driven him off?

  Her feelings toward him had shifted somewhere along the way. Thoughts of him now started a little wriggle in her stomach. But warring with that interest was the knowledge that nothing could come of any special friendship that might develop between them. So why start what could not come to any good end?

  The shop bell summoned her from the work room and her thoughts. Because she was thinking of William Carmody, Rose somehow imagined the customer would be him. Her spirits rose.

  Instead, she received a gut punch of shock. “Mum! What are you doing here?”

  “What? Too good to greet yer old mum properly?”

  “Of course I’m pleased to see you, but it is such a surprise. You haven’t come to visit once since I opened the shop.”

  “Well, I’m ’ere now.” Mum tucked back a hank of her hair, once as red as Rose’s, now faded and streaked with gray. She glanced around. “Lots o’ flowers. You sell this many in a day?”

  “No. But I have to offer variety and appear well-stocked. It is what the customers expect.” She felt a defensive need to explain herself. “One must expect to lose some stock. It’s the nature of the business.”

  “Oh, must ‘one,’” her mother mocked. “Whaddya do with the blooms at end o’ day, toss ’em in the rubbish bin?”

  “An old friend from the market picks ’em up. Remember Gram’s friend Mary Pardo? She ’as a bit o’ luck sellin’ nosegays outside the opera house.” Like shedding a layer of skin, Rose returned to the bones of her being, a Cockney lass aping her betters and pretending to belong in their world. “What can I do for ya, Mum? Why’ve you come?”

  “Ain’t you friendly tho’? Afraid one of yer fancy customers might see me?”

  It was precisely that fear which made her dart glances at the door. “Of course not, Mum. I’m ‘appy you finally came, but I expect you want somethin’?”

  “There’s a coal bill needs payin’.” Her mother’s gaze drilled through her like a sharp stave pinning a flower into place.

  What sort of coal bill could there possibly be during a steaming hot summer? But Rose did not dispute the claim. “I can contribute a little to help with that.”

  “And yer sis is up the duff from one o’ them Barnes boys.”

  “Arietta is pregnant?” Sadly, it was not a surprise. “Which Barnes? Sam or Job?”

  “Naw, the other. The one who went for a soldier come ‘ome for ‘is dad’s funeral and set his eye on our Arietty.”

  “Gus? But he’s so old! He must be near forty and Arietta is only fifteen.”

  Mum clicked her tongue. “Almost sixteen, and so was I when I wed yer dad. What’s yer point?”

  “Are you sure she wants this?”

  “Don’t matter what she wants. It’s done now, innit? Anyhow, the fella’s a sergeant an’ makes a good wage. ‘E’ll be takin’ ‘er to back to Inja. So there’s Arietty sorted.”

  Her little sister swept away to a foreign land, likely never to be seen again. Though the two of them had nothing in common except blood, Rose prayed Arietta would be happy with her lot. “When is the wedding? I’d like to see her before her big day.”

  Mum wagged an arthritic finger. “Don’t you be interferin’, puttin’ codswallop romantical notions in her ‘ead. Tis for the best.”

  “What do Dale and Danny have to say about it? I expect they wanted to beat Gus’s hide.”

  “’E offered to put a ring on ‘er finger right away, which is right and proper. Yer brothers knew it and so did yer Da. You ought to be celebratin’ too. Didn’t you say you wanted the girl out o’ the factory?”

  There was no arguing that. But she should have asked her sister to work for her. She might have saved her from both frying pan and fire. Instead, she’d been more concerned with Arietta’s rude manners. She hadn’t wanted her coarse sister to deter clients. If she’d only guided and mentored Arietta as Hattie had done her, the girl might not be in this fix.

  “Gus must return to ‘is regiment. Took leave only long enough to put his Dad in the ground and find a good English girl to take back to that heathen land. If ya want to see yer sis, you’d best do it soon.”

  “I could come to supper tonight. Is there anything I can bring?”

  “A ham would be nice, and a smoked mackerel as well?” Mum created a shopping list on the spot.

  “Will Dale and his family be there?” Rose assessed the number of mouths she had to feed.

  “I’ll tell ‘em to come by six.”

  “I can’t make it that soon, Mum. I have to close the shop and buy the groceries. How about seven?”

  “Whot about that coal bill then? Can ya spare a quid?”

  Much more than a hod cost, but Rose gritted her teeth and retreated behind the counter to withdraw some money from the till.

  Her mother crammed the bill into her dress pocket. “Yer a peach, Rosie.”

  “Sure.” Rose knew most of the money would be pissed away on gin before reaching either the coal bin or the landlord. It was hard to break the habit of handing over her paycheck to her mother. Next time, she would insist on paying any bills directly.

  “Ta then.” Mum walked out of the store, leaving a gamey scent that nearly overpowered the flowers and a feeling of despair that made Rose’s shoulders slump.

  Exhaustion from holding her body so rigidly and biting back negative words overtook her. She despised herself for feeling embarrassed by her own kin, fearful that a customer might walk in and witness their encounter. That guilt, plus worry over her sister’s fate, prompted tears.

  Rose turned the sign to closed and retreated into the back room to cry in peace. She loved her parents, her brothers, her little sister, her flesh and blood and the bane of her existence. But she would never understand how they could be so content with their lot and so mean to each other.

  Rose became aware of a rapping on the shop door. Some customer, undeterred by the sign, demanded her attention. Rose wiped her eyes and went to answer the relentless knocking.

  But the woman on her doorstep had not come for flowers.

  “Miss Sweet!” Rose noted Candace’s harried expression, with eyes as red and swollen as hers felt. “Come in.”

  She put an arm around the dark-haired woman’s shoulders to usher her inside, and locked the door behind her.

  “I’m s-sorry,” Candace whispered. “I did not know where to turn and needed so desperately to talk with someone, but I should not have come here.”

  “Nonsense. I invited you, remember? Let us sit in my kitchen. I will make tea while you tell me all your troubles.”

  Once she had Candace settled, Rose sat studying her friend’s worried eyes. A demure dress, buttoned to the collar, covered her lush figure. She appeared as soft and vulnerable as a puppy one wanted to cherish and protect. What had her fiendish relative done to frighten her so thoroughly?

  “Has your guardian bothered you again?” Rose prompted gently.

  The woman dipped her chin. “I can hardly bear to put voice to
it.”

  “Telling me might help you to unburden yourself.”

  Her guest paused, then nodded more firmly as if making up her mind. “It is not I who should be ashamed. It is he who continues to force his unwanted attention.”

  Rose’s stomach dropped. She prayed that attention had not gone further than lewd comments or looks. She waited patiently for Candace to continue.

  “As I mentioned, he has been looking at me in what feels like an inappropriate manner. This afternoon, prior to changing for dinner, I sat facing my vanity mirror and pondering my future. Suddenly, I realized I was not alone. My guardian had entered the room unannounced and stood watching me brush my hair.

  “I put down the brush and tightened my dressing gown, under which I wore no more than a chemise and drawers. Mr. Merker moved behind me to rest his hands on my shoulders and study our reflection in the mirror. He said…” She swallowed and hugged her arms around herself.

  “He complimented my physical endowments, expressing his admiration for ample-bodied girls. The words weren’t as alarming as his gaze roving up and down my form as if I wore nothing at all.”

  Rose shivered, feeling the disturbing moment as if it were her own. “You poor dear. What a horrible creature.”

  “I felt I must remove myself from that room before something happened. But his hands weighed on my shoulders, keeping me in the chair. He told me his feelings for me had grown since my return from France. I was no longer the child he had cared for, but a young woman ripe and ready to entertain suitors. He pointed out that plump girls might not easily find a match, but I need not worry. I could remain in his home forever so far as he was concerned. He would always cherish me.”

  Candace drew a shaky breath. “I knew he was on the verge of proposing and would expect an immediate, joyful response. I also believed if I didn’t give it, he would attempt to force me to accept. So I pushed back my chair back, knocking him off balance. I lunged up, excused myself, and fled from the room.”

  Rose’s heart beat fast as she imagined running from that devil. “Did he come after you?”

  “No. I hid in the water closet until I heard my maid’s 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 leave from the army had been. Long enough to have fathered this baby, or would he be raising someone else’s child as his own?

  “Arietta!” Rose shouted above the din. “Come outside so we can talk.”

  Though they hadn’t seen each other in many months, her sister barely spared a glance. “Bugger off. I’m busy talkin’ to Dad, the ole penny pincher.”

  “Please. It’s important.”

  “Fancy gown that. Where’d you get it?” Madge, Rose’s sister-in-law fingered her sleeve.

  Mum came from the other room, bottle in hand. “Fancy, indeed. Showin’ off her duds like a peacock. Why dontcha buy a weddin’ dress for your sis. Think o’ someone besides yerself for a change.”

  “Arietta. Come on! Move your bleedin’ arse and maybe I will buy you a dress,” Rose used the only language her sister understood.

  A few moments later, the pair of them stood in the tenement hallway. It stunk of piss and sweat, but at least it was quiet enough to talk without yelling.

  Arietta folded her arms over her full breasts. “Goin’ to scold me for gettin’ knocked up?”

  Rose held her tongue. “What’s done can’t be undone. But I would like to talk to you about your future. Do you truly want to marry Gus Barnes and live in India? Once you go, you won’t likely return, you know.”

  “Anyplace is better than ‘ere. Ain’t that what you used to say?”

  “But that is not always true. What do you know about him? Is he kind? Will he treat you right?” She didn’t ask if Arietta loved him for she felt fairly certain of the answer.

  “’E’s awright.” Arietta shrugged. “Gus fancies me and wants to set me up in a proper ‘ome. Says e’s tired of bein’ alone and don’t want to look around no further for a wife.”

  “You don’t have to marry ye
t. You’re so young.”

  “Mary and Daisy and Carrie is all either wed or about to be,” Arietta listed several of her friends. “I’m glad to be set and outta this hellhole. Could do worse than Gus, who’s stickin’ by me even though I’m—” She put a hand to her round abdomen.

  “What if there was another way?” Rose hesitated. Could she take on the responsibility of her pregnant sister? She should want to, but it was hard to make the offer. “What if you came to live with me and worked in my shop?”

  For a moment, as Rose looked into her sister’s face, it was a mirror of her own, eyes bright blue and open rather than squinted in a perpetual frown. Arietta’s mouth dropped open and she looked very young with her expression so unguarded. “You want me to come work for you?”

  “I could not have you in the shop where your condition would raise questions, but I would teach you how to care for the flowers and make floral arrangements.”

  “Why the ‘ell would I want to do that, you silly bint?” Arietta laughed. “I got a man set to look after me for life. I don’t gotta work as no shop girl, just take care of me ‘ouse. A real place of our own and not a flat, Gus says. I’m gonna live like a queen in Inja.”

  Rose hated how relieved those words made her. “You’re really sure this is what you want?”

  “I told you it is. Sheesh, get the wax outta yer ears.”

  “In that case, I’m happy for you and wish you the best of luck. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help with your wedding, like supply flowers.”

  “A fancy dress ‘d be nice. Somethin’ like what you got on, but a brighter color and shinier.”

  Rose glanced down at her simple day dress. “I can do that. What color would you like?”

  “Pink,” Arietta answered promptly.

  “You always did love pink,” Rose murmured. “Like your doll’s dress.”

  “Yeah. Remember when Jamie Dawson took her from me and pulled off her arms? You beat him up proper.”

  “I did.” Rose cuffed Arietta lightly. “No one could mess with my sis except me.”