Chapter Thirty-One
“I cannot believe you haven’t spoken to him yet,” Claire stated. “It’s been weeks. Aren’t you beyond curious to know how he ended up bursting down that door?”
Frankly, Rosewascurious, but she was also sick of focusing on Finn. Not to mention tired of the black cloud that hung over everything to do with the two of them.
“I would far rather talk about how things are going with you and Franklin,” she declared.
Claire immediately took on that wondrous glow that overcame her visage whenever she discussed her fiancé. However, as Rose’s mind wandered to the proper length of time for setting up custard, she caught only the tail end of her friend’s words.
“... and that’s why I always thought he was right for you. You can’t fight the pull of first love, especially not one of that magnitude.”
Rose had to shake the thoughts of cooking out of her brain. “What are we talking about?”
“About Finn and you, of course, and how he shaped your entire idea of what love is.”
“Claire, dear heart, I want to stop talking about Finn and me. There is no ‘Finn and me’ in any case.”
“Balderdash!”
Rose rolled her eyes. After signing the agreement in Reed’s office, Finn had disappeared and made no attempt to contact her. Nor she, him. What’s more, she had felt no compunction to do so. The long obsession with the man, as if he were in her blood and somehow coursing through her veins, was over.
William was still on the Continent. Finn was God knew where. And Rose was living quite happily alone after her mother had married and moved out the week before.
“I am utterly content,” she assured Claire.
“Balderdash,” she repeated. “You are the same woman with needs and wants and a heart, aren’t you? You have been kissed, and you want to be kissed again, don’t you?”
Rose smiled. She’d done a good deal more than kissing. And yes, she would very much like to experience some of that “more” again. At that particular moment, however, she simply didn’t feel compelled to be with a man — Finn or anyone else. She enjoyed dining with her friends and family. Moreover, she enjoyed her own company. Most of all, she liked doing whatever pleased her and answering to no one for the first time in her life.
Maybe when the newness of that freedom wore off, she’d start thinking of making an association with a man once again. Meanwhile, she had acquired an adorable cat and named her Cocoa, for the puss had rich sable fur that reminded Rose of that delicious hot beverage.
She tapped her chin. “You know something, I really don’t think that Maeve will ever suit Robert.”
The two girls laughed uproariously.
“I agree. What were we thinking?”
“While Franklin is perfect for you, I believe Robert needs—”
“You,” Claire suggested. “If you won’t let me speak of you and Finn, how about you and Robert?”
That wiped the smile off Rose’s face.Could her friend be serious?
After everything, would Claire still wish Rose upon her brother? How generous! How absurd! Moreover, would her friend be insulted by Rose’s complete adversity to such an idea?
“Dearest,” she began, “you know I love you dearly and have a fondness for Robert, since we practically grew up together, but I see him as a brother.”
“A dull stick of a brother,” Claire added, mirth shining in her eyes.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Rose said, sighing. “Truly, I thought you were serious.”
“No, I cannot imagine the right woman for my brother,” Claire said, “if one exists. You on the other hand—”
Rose held up her hand. “Here we go again.”
“Well, I do think you have made two wonderful matches,” Claire pointed out. “I am only sorry that neither of them brought you the lifelong happiness I wish for you.”
William would have, Rose was certain, if only he had not fled from the mess that she had created, needing the soothing balm of thousands of miles of distance between them. He hadn’t accepted the return of his ring, nor could she wear it, so it remained in its navy box in the back of her handkerchief drawer.
