Chapter Ten
Rose stopped short, and Finn, who’d been close on her heels, slammed into her, causing her to gasp and lurch forward. Of course, all eyes turned to her, including Charlotte’s and the man she was sitting with. Rose recognized him as the publisher, Charles Greene.
What could she do?Certainly not back up and disappear the way she had come. If only Finn were not, as she feared, standing directly behind her. She took a few steps, hoping he didn’t follow, and then made her way slowly to Charlotte’s table. It took all her willpower not to glance back.
“Hello,” she said, bending down to kiss Charlotte’s cheek as her dining companion stood up.
Charlotte’s inquisitive eyes scanned Rose’s face.
“This is my husband’s youngest sister, Miss Rose Malloy,” Charlotte introduced her. “This is Mr. Greene.” The distinguished man gave a slight bow and resumed his seat.
“Are you having a late lunch?” Charlotte asked her, sounding as if she thought something else entirely. Or was that Rose’s own guilt at being caught, projecting itself onto Reed’s perceptive wife.
“No. Yes.” She laughed as Charlotte lifted an eyebrow.
“I know the owner. Slightly. Chef Ober. And ... well,” she trailed off, gesturing around the dining room.
Suddenly, inspiration hit. “I was thinking about the wedding luncheon and how grand it would be to have his cuisine.”
“An excellent choice,” said the publisher, taking a bite of the food in front of him. “You will excuse me,” he added. “I was at my desk all day and this is the first I’ve eaten.”
“I will not hold you up a moment longer,” Rose said, grateful for the gentle nudge to stop intruding on their meeting. Charlotte had a pad of paper out and a fountain pen in hand. She’d clearly been taking notes while the man dined.
“Please give my love to my dear brother,” Rose said, taking a few steps backward in preparation for fleeing down the stairs. “I’ll see you soon.”
“No doubt,” her sister-in-law murmured. “Take care, Rose.”
“Yes, of course.” With that, she escaped, knowing that Reed would hear all about the episode and would instantly start discerning if there was any mischief involved.
Just as the glossy green door closed behind her, Rose glanced back into the restaurant’s interior. Finn Bennet, very much alive, was in there. Her husband.
And he was granting her a divorce.
***
Claire’s eyes had never looked so large, not even when Rose had whispered to her of her hasty civil marriage ceremony to Finn. This time, she made sure her friend was seated, a soothing cup of tea in hand. Still, Claire stared, gaped, and then set down her cup with a rattle.
“It’s too much to take in,” she said.
Rose knew exactly how her friend felt. She was reeling from the speed of the events that had occurred since her engagement party.
“Phineas Bennet, back from his watery grave,” Claire mused.
Rose cringed at her poetic imagery.
“You say he gave no indication as to why he returned?” Claire asked. “Other than that he saw your name in the society pages? Surely, he came back to claim you.”
Rose shook her head. “He made no declaration, and he seemed distant at best. Even when I risked everything to meet with him. He sat in front of me and polished off a plate of crepes.”
“Well,” Claire said, offering a small shrug, “Monsieur Ober’s are so very delectable. Practically irresistible.”
“Good God, not you, too,” Rose scolded. “In any case, the only thing I know for certain is that he will give me a divorce.”
“Is that what you want?” her friend asked, eyes wide.
“When I think of William, I can’t imagine not being with him.”
“And when you think of Phineas?”
