In a group made up of Rose, Claire, Franklin Brewster, Claire’s brother, Robert, and Rose’s young niece and nephew, Lily and Thomas, with Claire’s housekeeper as chaperone — they made up a merry roller skating party.
After a heated discussion as to whether to go to the Cyclorama or the large rink on St. James’s Avenue and Clarendon Street, the group sat on the benches at Winslow’s rink in the Back Bay and strapped on their skates. For nearly a decade, Rose had been a skating enthusiast since first trying it out in New York on vacation with her middle sister, Sophie, who had gone only because there was an orchestra playing every night at the Albany rink.
Despite being quite adept, Rose let Robert hold her arm as they went around.
“Faster,” Rose urged.
Robert gripped her arm more tightly.
“I think not,” he said as Claire and Franklin whirled past them.
Oh, for goodness sake!Rose rolled her eyes. She found him to be old beyond his years and stuffy, so unlike his amusing sister.
“Even little Thomas is going by us, and he’s not yet eight,” she complained to Robert before yanking him along willy-nilly. “Full speed ahead!”
Two seconds later, Claire’s twin brother stumbled, let go of her, and crashed into the rink wall.
Thank goodness he’d released her, she thought, looking at his crumpled form. Claire and Franklin helped him up.
“I think I’ll sit for a little while,” Robert said, heading for the gate and the nearest bench.
“So sorry, Robert,” Rose called after him, glad to be free and unfettered.
She and Finn had skated at this very rink at midnight, fleeing only when the night watchman eventually showed up. A little surprised by her daring nature, Finn had nevertheless matched her speed. Together, they’d raced around, laughing like little children. She’d felt perfectly safe holding Finn’s hand.
At that moment, she wanted to skate alone and remember.
“You can hold onto Franklin’s other arm,” Claire offered, which Rose found hilarious, seeing as how Claire was a crack skater, too, and neither of them needed to hold onto a man for support.
Rose simply smiled and waved her thanks before skating off at breakneck pace around the oval. Soon, she was away from her entire party.
Gliding down one end, she looked back to see where Reed’s children were — safely with Claire’s housekeeper, and then looked ahead again. A figure cut across her path. Rose gasped. Too late to stop or even turn, she slammed into the other skater who managed to catch hold of her as they went down.
She landed on top of him, looking down to see the grinning face of William Woodsom.
“You!” she exclaimed. “You oaf! You could have injured us both.”
“Could have? How do you know that I’m not injured?” he asked, his head still resting on the polished wooden flooring.
“It would serve you right,” Rose said, though she tried to soften her tone. “Are you?”
“As it happens, no. Except my pride. I’m usually known as an excellent skater.”
By this time, Claire and Franklin reached them.
“Are you hurt?” Claire asked as Franklin offered his arm to Rose and pulled her to standing.
When they were both upright again, William reached for her hand. “Since we have already fallen together, will you skate with me?”
She wanted to pull her hand from his, but that seemed petty. Besides Claire was watching, with her eyes large and curious, and her good friend knew about the stolen kiss. Better to be casual and skate with William, and then leave him at the other end of the rink.
“I suppose,” she demurred, and with a quick wink to Claire, Rose let William lead her away. They skated easily, well-matched, and Rose let the comfortable silence stretch on.
After a moment, without looking at her, William said, “I wish you had let me dance with you at the Tremont.”
She stiffened.
“Why did you run away?” he persisted.
