“This came for you.”
Two days following Felicity’s unfortunate disagreement with Axel in the garden, Susan entered her chamber carrying a single red rose and a small package wrapped in pink tissue. It was only one rose, but it was exquisite.
It was, perhaps, the most perfect rose she’d ever seen.
“The thorns have been removed.” Susan handed over the small package. “There’s a note attached. Should I put the rose in water?”
Such deep reds, almost in full bloom. Felicity held it to her nose and inhaled the sensual scent. It wouldn’t last much longer. “Thank you.”
Turning to the package, she slid the tiny note from beneath the bow. Carefully printed, it only consisted of four words.
Forgive me?
Yours, Axel
But there was nothing to forgive.
She turned it over, looking for something else. But no. That was all he’d written.
No invitation to go driving or offer to take her to Gunter’s. As her mother wasn’t hosting an at-home for another week, and the next ball was four days away, she wondered when she would see him again.
Inside the tissue, she found a single piece of chocolate. Sweet, rich… She set it aside for later that night.
And even though she knew it wasn’t proper, Felicity located her small writing desk and penned a response.
Dearest Axel,
I’ll only forgive you if you forgive me first. The rose is beautiful. And thank you for the chocolate.
She tapped the blunt end of the quill on her lips. She wanted to say more. Are you being careful? Have you discovered who is trying to kill you?
Do you miss me?
When are you going to kiss me again?... and do… other things?
She would not bring up the subject of his father again without more definitive proof.
Leaving all those questions off, she dipped the quill into the ink.
Yours,
Felicity
After dabbing a drop of her perfume onto the parchment, she sealed it and asked Susan to ensure it be delivered into no one’s hands but his.
The following day, a second red rose arrived - with a second chocolate and another note.
You are forgiven.
Yours, Axel
Practically a week passed, a flower and chocolate arriving each day, a tender message attached, and yet not a single visit or invitation. Furthermore, he’d absented himself from the Middlebrook ball. Was he purposely avoiding her?
He had responsibilities other than her: his Jiu-Jitsu students, his clubs, tracking down would-be murderers.
And yet, doubt niggled at her. If he was avoiding her, that didn’t bode well for their marriage. Especially considering their wedding ball was little over one week away.
And the day after that—their wedding.
