Chapter Fifteen
The sharp tap on her bedroom door in the early evening had not given Rose any indication of who was on the other side. If she’d known Elise was going to march into the room as soon as she opened the door and demand an answer to such a vague question, she might hidden under her four-poster bed or have feigned absence entirely.
“When were you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” Rose let the myriad of things she had not disclosed rattle around in her brain for a moment.
“That Mama was getting married.”
“Oh that.” Rose actually breathed a sigh of relief. That was something she could actually discuss.
“Yes, of course,that! What else could be so important? You must have had a clue, living under the same roof. Did Mr. Nickerson come here often?”
Rose shrugged. “I suppose he did. However, I didn’t know about the intended marriage either until this morning.
“How romantic,” Elise murmured and sat down unasked on her sister’s bed. “And how fitting.”
“What do you mean?”
Elise tilted her head, offering a lopsided smile. “With my slightly odd path to love and marriage, blackmail included, and Sophie falling for an engaged man and let’s not forget Reed going all the way to Colorado to capture Charlotte’s heart and then having to rescue her from that madman. Given all of our untraditional courtings and alliances, Mama finding love and hiding it from us for years ...,” she trailed off. “Why are you looking like that?”
Rose swallowed and tried to relax her face.
“Like what?” Belatedly, she realized that her eyes had widened and her mouth had grown slack. Was every Malloy destined to some dramatic romantic adventure? Moreover, was she following in her mother’s footsteps, or rather was her mother following in hers?
“How did you find out?” Rose asked her.
“Mama used thetelephone,” Elise said and paused, giving Rose time to consider.
Their mother never used the “infernal device,” as Evelyn referred to it after Reed had paid richly to install them in all their homes. His intent was to ensure his sisters and their mother could always reach him as well as each other.
“Yes!” Elise confirmed when Rose exclaimed in wonder. “Mama was quite concerned that you would blab about her engagement before the rest of the family knew, and that we would feel slighted or deceived somehow. She decided the telephone’s expediency was suddenly a useful thing after all. When I picked up, I heard her saying, ‘Clear the line, will you please clear the line?’ She was very imperial sounding.”
“How unlike her,” Rose said, feeling rather miffed that her mother thought she would gossip — though in truth, she would have told Claire immediately if her friend hadn’t been so upset.
“In any case,” Elise continued, “she called me and Reed and sent a telegraph to Sophie.”
Rose sat beside her sister. “So what do you think about Mama and Mr. Nickerson?”
“I was a tad shocked at first, to tell you the truth. I suppose I’m simply used to Mama being alone. Still, I think it quite wonderful to have a colt’s tooth and want to live a fuller life at her age.”
“Yes, me, too. I’m very relieved that she’ll have a companion.”
“And not some stuffy old matronly companion either but a man! A quite lively one at that, if their behavior at the last dance was any indication.”
How had Rose missed that?
With Elise being so accepting of new attachments, was this the time to mention Finn?
She squashed the notion at once. If only she could. With the mysterious threats and with William still not knowing about Finn, Rose couldn’t say anything. How convenient it would be if she could travel back to her younger self and tell her to open her heart to her family. If Rose had told her family about her love for Finn, they would have supported her when he seemed to have died and rejoiced with her upon his incredible return.
No doubt, if her entire family had known of their marriage, if she had let that happen, then he would have hurried back immediately to Boston to claim her.
In that case, though, she would have missed out on meeting William, a notion that saddened her to even consider. She could not regret the love that had bloomed between them, nor all the special things they shared.
“Rose,” Elise’s voice called her back to the present. “Are you crying?”
Dear God, was she? Yes. She felt the moisture on her cheeks. How could she explain to Elise that thinking of her youthful love with Finn and her more mature love with William had evoked such intense sadness?
