“My what?” Startled, she pulled back, then saw by his smile that he was teasing her. If only he weren’t so spot on.
“As a young lady, you were quite fizzy,” he told her, “and then you calmed and then you became far too somber. Yet we solved all that, yes? You are precisely perfect, in my eyes, Miss Malloy.”
“Thank you.” She could barely say the words as tears welled like a lump in the back of her throat for the second time in a few minutes. Had the Good Lord sent him to stop something inappropriate from happening?
“How ... timely” — she was going to say “odd” and changed her mind — “that you happened upon us like that?”
“Miss Norcross pointed out which way you’d gone,” he said, not realizing how she flinched at the words.
Maeve! She had watched Rose leave Thompson’s Spa, trailing behind Finn and apparently not too discreetly. When William happened along, Maeve must have sent him after her, perhaps with malicious intent.
“I know how much you like the pond, so I headed this way. I didn’t see you at first. Then suddenly, you appeared on the walkway with that man behind you.”
It was most likely that Maeve still harbored resentment over William having broken up with her and wanted, in turn, to destroy Rose and his engagement. Stupidly, Rose had offered her the perfect invitation to meddle. She would be more careful with their relationship — and William’s feelings — in the future.
***
Finn wanted to throw back his head and howl. Clenching his fists to keep from physically separating Rose and Woodsom, he turned away, unable to watch as they walked together, arm in arm. It had been one thing to know of the man and even to see him at the Tremont, but quite another to have her fiancé come between him and Rose to stake his claim.
This all-overish pain was exactly what he deserved. Still, it stung all the same. And despite knowing how this muddle had come to be, Finn felt real anger toward Woodsom surge through him from his head down to his toes.
Dammit, what a mess!He hadn’t lied to Rose when he’d said he couldn’t blame this other fellow for loving her. She was everything a man could want. She was everything ...
Like an idiot, he’d let go of the best woman who would ever cross his sorry path. All he could do now was try to bring justice to the families of the men who’d died. Despite what he’d said to Rose, he wasn’t prepared to walk away, certainly not because of a threat.
As for his marriage, Finn shook his head. He didn’t know if there was a way to save it. Wasn’t even sure he was supposed to try. After all, Rose and Woodsom were a perfect match. She’d looked so damned happy at her engagement party. Until she saw him!
Finn started back toward Park Street and the closest trolley, all the while cursing himself for the pleasure he’d felt at seeing her when he’d already vowed to stay away. His destination was the North End and Liam Berne’s old bedsit. Though as Irish as potatoes and whiskey, Liam had refused to live with fellow immigrants in East Boston, preferring to nestle in with the Italians whose food and women he preferred.
If his friend no longer lived there, hopefully someone would know where he currently abided. For at that moment, feeling as alone in Boston as if he were still adrift on a hunk of wood in the Atlantic, Finn needed a friend.
***
While she dressed the next morning, Rose promised her own reflection that she would stop obsessing over Finn. The disgust she’d felt toward herself at being caught by William overshadowed any pleasure she’d experienced in her husband’s company. She must trust that Reed would handle the divorce with all due haste and that Finn would deal with the repercussions from the shipyard over his jarring return from the dead.
As for her, she had a wedding to plan, a fiancé to nurture, and a best friend who needed her aid in bringing about her own marital bliss. Rose decided to ask her mother what she knew of Mrs. Brewster and also her sister, Mrs. Norcross, Maeve’s mother. Perhaps there was some reason that Franklin’s mother was set against Claire.
Searching for her mother, she hastened into the parlor, expecting to find Evelyn perusing the morning papers with a cup of tea as was her custom. Rose stopped still as a Greek statue, even holding the breath she had gasped into her lungs at what she saw.
The tableau before her was unlike anything she could have imagined. Her respectable, widowed mother, dressed in a demure mauve morning gown, sat on the smaller of their two sofas. Beside her, seated much too close, was Ethan Nickerson. Evelyn was turned with her body toward him, and he toward her. And they were holding hands! What’s more, there was no one else in the room. No friend or confidante, no chaperone of any kind.
How positively extraordinary! How unthinkable!
At her daughter’s entrance, Evelyn glanced Rose’s way.
“Dear one,” her mother exclaimed, removing her hand from Nickerson’s grasp though not swiftly or with guilt. Instead, she did it with slow and deliberate grace, and then the gentleman in question stood up to greet the youngest daughter of the household. He bowed slightly, a pleasant smile on his attractively aged face.
Rose recovered from her surprise, releasing her breath and moving forward until she stood before the older gentleman. She offered a polite nod of her head and a friendly, “Good day, Mr. Nickerson.” Then she took her mother’s outstretched hand in both of hers.
“Mr. Nickerson and I are going to marry,” Evelyn said without preamble as if it was the most natural and expected news in the world.
Rose felt her mouth drop open. When she recovered a second time, she nodded, glancing from the beaming man to her smiling mother.How had this come about?
At last, she found her voice. “That’s wonderful, Mama. Congratulations. Also to you, Mr. Nickerson.” She ignored the impertinent flurry of questions swirling in her brain. She also tamped down the image of her father’s adored face. Oliver was long dead, and her mother was vibrantly alive. More than that, Evelyn had been alone for a long time.
“When will you marry?” Rose asked.
If her own wedding was to be postponed because of her divorce — or worse yet, cancelled — then perhaps her mother could make use of any of the arrangements she and Elise had already made.
