Maeve made a moue of her mouth and tilted her head to the side. “We ladies must stick together when the likes of Mr. Woodsom are preying on us.” With a small wave, the brunette wandered back to order her own glass of lemonade.
Rose frowned. Maeve’s story made her feel uncomfortable at best and taken advantage of at worst. What had occurred at the Tremont could have been far more serious if she hadn’t escaped William Woodsom when she had.
Reed’s children ran up to her. “Will you buy us lemonade, too?” Thomas asked.
“It’s not polite to ask,” Lily said. “You should let Aunt Rose offer first.” Her niece stared pointedly at her.
Rose smiled. “Right you both are. Iamoffering, and I shall buy you each one. And return my glass for me, please, Thomas.” She reached into her reticule and gave them both a coin. “Come right back. We’ll be leaving soon.”
The sooner, the better. She didn’t want to be caught again by William Woodsom, who seemed to stop at nothing, neither following her and ambushing her in a hotel hallway, nor knocking her off her feet at a public rink.
So it was with little surprise a few minutes later — though with equal parts exasperation and excitement — that Rose saw him approaching her once more, this time in his street shoes. Luckily, Claire, Franklin, and Robert reached her first.
“Are you ready to depart?” Rose asked, watching nervously as William got closer. She grabbed Robert’s arm and held on.
“All recovered?” she asked him sweetly.
“Quite so,” he replied, looking startled by her attention.
She tugged him toward the main exit. Luckily, Claire’s housekeeper gathered the children and in two broughams, they left. Rose couldn’t help but look back at the rink one more time. William Woodsom stood outside the door by a large maple, arms crossed, staring after her.
She had a feeling he wasn’t finished with her yet.
***
“You seem jumpy,” Claire observed as they sat in Rose’s mother’s front room, tying ribbons into bows for one of her mother’s suffragette events the following Saturday.
“What makes you say that?”
The door opened abruptly. Startled, Rose dropped her spool and half her bows on the floor. Yet it was only her brother entering with his young son, Emory, in tow.
“That’s precisely what makes me say that,” Claire pointed out.
Rose made a sour face at her friend. Truly, she was anticipating her next encounter with William, though she couldn’t decide if she felt dread or desire.
“Hello, ladies,” Reed said, and young Emory ran up to Rose to throw his arms around her, standing on and squashing her scattered ribbons as he did so. She hugged him fiercely. If Finn hadn’t perished, perhaps she would have her own little one by now. She squeezed her nephew hard until he squirmed for release. Then she started to scoop up the blue satin, hoping her creations weren’t too crushed to hand out at the event.
“Have you seen Mother?” Reed asked. “I have about ten minutes to discuss whatever it is she wants and then—”
“Ten minutes!” Evelyn Malloy exclaimed entering the room behind her son, and Rose dropped the stack again. Claire giggled.
“Is that really all the time you can spare your own flesh and blood?” Evelyn continued.
Rose and Reed shared a glance of amusement, then he winked at her.
“Will you ladies keep Emory,” Reed asked. “Mother and I will go into Father’s study.”
They all still called it that, Father’s study, even though Oliver Malloy had been gone for nearly a decade.
“Come, sit by me, Emory,” Rose said. “See that lovely box. You can help me put these carefully in it.” After all, he couldn’t possibly crumple her work anymore than she already had.
The little boy did as he was told, and they went back to work. Rose didn’t mind the distraction of her nephew. She simply added his chubby fingers, his humming, and his giggling to the distractions already coursing through her busy brain ever since the encounter at the rink. She’d kept an eye out for William Woodsom, thinking she would see him popping out from behind a tree or whenever she opened her front door to step outside.
She anticipated the notion, while fearing it at the same time.
However, a week had passed and, surely, he had moved on to some other female. Another week later, she would be at the Bijou watchingIolanthe, with all of Boston’s young Brahmin in attendance, mingling before and after. Would William be there?
In the meantime, there was another house party to attend though Rose didn’t know if he was a friend of the Lowells, or if he would attend in any case.
