“Not I,” Elise said, her face flushing pink.
“Why ever not?” Rose asked, surprised at her oldest sister’s reticence. She usually took charge of whatever needed doing.
Sophie laughed lightly. “I think she still feels discomfort about nearly getting engaged to the man.”
“What?” Rose exclaimed so loudly her sisters had to shush her. She rounded on Elise. “Tell me,” she demanded, for she couldn’t picture Elise with anyone except Michael Bradley to whom she’d been ecstatically wed for the past ten years.
“Oh, you remember,” Sophie said when Elise remained silent. “She was trying to make Michael jealous.”
“With old man Nickerson?” Rose lifted her eyebrows.
“No, it wasn’t like that,” Elise protested. “It was more complicated.”
“Couldn’t you find someone closer to your own age?” Rose asked, wrinkling her nose and taking another look at Mr. Nickerson. True, he’d been ten years younger, but he was clearly the age of their parents. “He’s well-preserved for a man Mama’s age. Really though!”
“Enough,” Elise said. “In any case, someone else can go draw Mama away.”
“Maybe she doesn’t want to be rescued,” Rose surmised. “They seem to be having a pleasant discussion.”
They all looked again as their mother, gorgeous in a pale peach gown, laughed at something Nickerson said. She put a hand up to her hair, with its unfashionable gray streaks at either temple, the only sign that she was aging — and very gracefully at that. Rose was quite glad her mother eschewed the popular dyes and let her beautiful hair alone.
“Oh, I’ll do it,” Sophie said, and she marched over to Evelyn Malloy.
“When did she become so bossy?” Elise asked, and then suddenly her own husband appeared at her side, sliding his arm around her waist. Before she could say anything, he bent down and murmured in her ear. Rose watched her oldest sister’s cheeks deepen from pink to scarlet.
“My wife has done a wonderful job,” Michael said. “And at present, she deserves to have some fun. Excuse us.” He dragged her quite willingly onto the dance floor with the countless other couples, all in their finery.
How lucky her sisters were to have found their love matches. Now it was her turn. Just then, she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned. For an instant, she had the impression a man might have been staring at her, but her view of him was blocked immediately by dancers. And then Claire, Robert, and Franklin appeared.
“Where did you three get to?” Rose asked. They each had a drink in hand.
“We were taking it all in,” Claire said. “If I were to ever have an engagement party,” she said, glancing sideways at Franklin, who suddenly seemed to find his collar a size too tight, “then I think I would ask your sister to organize it for me.”
“I’m sure she would do it, too,” Rose said. “She thoroughly enjoyed the planning and implementation.” She looked at Robert, who was smiling affably, still being dragged around by his twin sister. Could she set him up with someone? He seemed so reserved and docile. Why, she couldn’t even imagine him kissing . . . and then it struck her.
If any part of what Maeve had said was true, that she didn’t want to be kissed before she was engaged, then Robert was most likely the perfect man for her.
Rose considered how terribly rude she’d been to Maeve months earlier. Perhaps she could make amends by encouraging Robert to turn his attention to the lovely girl. After all, Maeve’s cousin, Franklin, was nearly already part of the Appleton family.
“What is that rather mischievous smile for?” William asked, suddenly at her side.
“You survived my brother,” she said. “Was he harsh with you?”
“No, not at all,” William said. “You were correct as to the nature of the conversation. I’ll tell you about it later.”
“We’re going to dance,” Claire announced. “Can’t let all this lovely music go to waste.” Franklin bowed and they walked away, Robert in their wake.
Rose watched them go. “What do you think of Maeve Norcross and Robert Appleton as a couple?”
William froze then blinked at her. “I don’t think of them at all to tell you the truth. Right now, however, I think Robert is somehow going to try to dance with his sister and Franklin.” He laughed a little at his own quip.
In reality, though, Robert merely stood on the edge of the dancing and watched.
“If we see Maeve, we’ll direct Robert toward her or vice versa,” Rose decided. “Meanwhile, shall we join them?” Rose asked William, gesturing toward the dancers. Truthfully, she was eager to feel her dress swish and swirl as they pirouetted and twirled.
“In a few moments,” William said. “Let’s go to where it all began first.” He grinned at her, and she smiled back, feeling a little wicked. Then she nodded.
Together, they slipped from the main ballroom and along the corridor to the far staircase. Rushing up it like children while holding hands, they then ran along the upper hallway before starting down the other stairs.
“You know, we could have simply come to the bottom of these stairs,” he said, breathing hard, as he stopped in front of her precisely as he’d done months before.
“I know,” she agreed, laughter bubbling from her lips until he caught hold of her waist and drew her to him.
His earnest eyes looked loving and serious at the same time. “I am so happy, Rose.”
“As am I,” she assured him.
“May I kiss you?” he asked.
“You didn’t ask me the first time, as I recall. You said I owed you a kiss.”
“I would have said anything,” he confessed. “At present, though, I owe you my heart and my soul, as well as my happiness. I am in debt to how you’ve changed my life.”
She sobered. He had brought happiness to her again, as well. Before she could tell him that, he leaned in to kiss her. As their lips touched, she felt the last icicle of sadness melt from away.
She breathed in the familiar scent of him, allowing him to press her mouth open, to deepen the connection. They kissed much longer than they had the first time. And they might have stayed there all evening if Charlotte hadn’t come to find them.
“Very improper!” she scolded before shooting them a broad smile as they broke apart. “In truth, I’d tell you to carry on except people are starting to wonder where the couple of the evening has got to, including both of your mothers.”
That was enough to break the spell. Rose knew her own mother wouldn’t mind, but she didn’t want to anger her soon to be mother-in-law.
“Hurry,” she said, grabbing William’s hand. “Let’s get back.”
With Charlotte following behind them, they raced to the ballroom. A murmur went up as they entered, arm-in-arm. The crowd parted, seemingly funneling them toward the dance floor, even though the musicians were taking a break. No doubt it was the respite from dancing that had caused people to wonder where the betrothed couple was.
Still, it seemed as if they were wanted in the center of the room. So Rose let William lead her there. She saw so many familiar faces — her mother beaming, William’s parents standing close with benign smiles, Claire, Robert, and Franklin. Riley and Sophie. Elise and Michael. And all of Rose’s many friends.
Then Charlotte approached and handed them each a fluted crystal glass. Rose realized most people had a drink in hand already.
Ah, it was time for a toast.
Charlotte’s green eyes sparkled as she took her drink from Reed. Then she faced the couple and pulled a piece of paper out of her sleeve. She flipped it open with her free hand, but then she frowned and crumpled it up before beginning to speak.
“Rose, I have been blessed to have your friendship since I entered this family. You and your sisters have been the sisters I never had. However, you are special, with your spark of liveliness, which some might call impetuousness.”
A few people in the crowd laughed good naturedly.
“Add to tha
t spark, your humor, your sweet disposition, and your quick mind, and Rose, in total, you are a delight. I’ve also known you to be very thoughtful over the past few years, even melancholy. Before Mr. Woodsom enlivened your life, exactly as your dear brother did mine.” She glanced at Reed, who nodded. Then Charlotte looked at William.
“As Rose welcomed me in, I am welcoming you, William. You’re a valued addition to this family.”
She stepped closer and kissed Rose’s cheek and then William’s, who nodded gratefully.
It was Reed’s turn, Rose realized, as he looked fondly at her.
“To my youngest sister,” he began, then turned his eyes heavenward for a moment. “You have caused us all a great deal of worry.” Everyone within earshot laughed. “More than the rest of the Malloys put together. Am I correct, Mother?”
Evelyn nodded, though she also blew Rose a kiss, and mouthed the words, “I love you.”
Rose blew a kiss back, sipped her drink, and let her brother get on with his ribbing.
“Before I had children of my own, I think you started to give me my first gray hairs. However, every single one was worth it, especially to see you so happy tonight.”
Reed turned to William.
“You may not know this. Our father said to our mother on the day Rose was born, this baby is a wild one, like the beach roses. And Mother said, then we’ll name her such.”
Everyone clapped, and Rose wiped the tears from her eyes, wishing her father were there.
“We’re happy to deliver our Rose into William Woodsom’s care. We wish him much luck with her, and patience,” he added.
The guests laughed and raised their glasses toasting the couple, and then everyone drank. William shook Reed’s hand before clasping Rose tightly to his side.
“My wild Rose,” he murmured into her hair.
Rose felt her heart expand and could barely breathe. Her pulse was racing. She took another sip of the drink Charlotte had handed her and began a slow turn to survey the room as the music started again. So much love. So many friendly faces, some belonged to people she’d known all her life, some—
Finn.
In an instant, everything changed. The breath left her lungs in a whoosh that left her lightheaded, and she gasped out loud. Or did she scream? She wasn’t sure.
Her blood was pounding in her ears, drowning out other sounds. She blinked to end the illusion. Yet impossibly, Finn still stood there. One moment, he was staring at her with his dark, anguished eyes, and the next, he was pushing his way between two guests and disappearing from her view.
The glass slipped from her hand, though the sound was barely audible in the crowded room.
“Rose?” she heard William’s voice.
Her head was spinning. Lights — brighter than the mirror-reflected candles or even than the electric lamps overhead — filled her vision from all sides. Her stomach contracted and a wave of nausea rolled up from inside her.
Good God, she thought. She was going to be sick. But she would not. Blast it. She tamped it down, even as she felt a clammy coolness break out over her entire body. She closed her eyes as her legs gave way, confident that William would catch her.
Chapter Seven
Rose heard her name. It was a man’s voice. It seemed to be coming from a long way away. She didn’t want to open her eyes. There was something terribly wrong. Something disturbing that she knew she didn’t want to face, though she couldn’t remember what it was. She had a feeling if she raised her lids, she would either see or remember an awful occurrence.
“Rose.” This time the gentle voice of her mother was accompanied by a slight tap on her cheek. Then a moment later, the acrid smell of ammonia assaulted her nostrils. She coughed and slowly opened her eyes, as Riley removed the vial of smelling salts.
All around her, Rose saw women, her mother on her left, Elise on her right, and next to them, Sophie and Charlotte respectively. Right beside her, though, was Dr. Riley Dalcourt, looking concerned.
“Here she comes,” he said.
“How are you feeling?” her mother asked, running a hand over her youngest daughter’s forehead.
“Too much excitement, do you think?” asked Sophie.
“It wasn’t too much to drink,” Elise said. “She was sipping her first glass of champagne.”
Rose let her eyelids drift closed again. What had happened? What was wrong? She had an inkling she absolutely should remember something but dreaded thinking of it at the same time.
“Rose.” It was Charlotte this time. “Come back to us, sweetheart.”
Rose opened her eyes again.
“What happened?” she asked to no one in particular.
None of them answered her directly. Instead, Riley said, “Let’s sit her up slowly. She’ll feel better.”
Rose felt them raise her up and prop pillows behind her.
“Breathe deeply,” Sophie said, and Rose opened her mouth, sucking in a few deep breaths. The buzzing in her ears that she hadn’t noticed until it began to subside ceased all together.
“What happened?” she repeated.
“You fainted,” Elise said. “Dropped to the floor like a rock into the harbor.”
The harbor. Then it came back with the speed of a summer storm — Finn. Finn!
Rose groaned.
“Darling, what is it?” her mother asked. “Do you hurt?”
Did she hurt? Yes, her heart felt as heavy as lead, and her stomach started to churn again. Was she possibly going mad?
“Would you all take a step back and let her breathe,” Riley said firmly. He bent low and murmured in her ear. “You seem to have had a shock. Do you remember what it was?”
She could not tell him. She simply shook her head.
“Are you in any pain?”
She shook her head again. Then she asked, “Where is William?”
“He’s downstairs,” Charlotte answered. “They let us bring you up here to a vacant room.”
“We’re still at the Tremont?” Finally, she looked around at the unfamiliar wallpaper. “Is it the same night?”
She saw Sophie and Elise exchange a glance.
“Yes,” said Elise. “William carried you up here, just a few minutes ago.”
How strange. She felt as though she’d been sleeping for ages. “I’ll be ready to go back downstairs in a minute,” she assured them.
Riley handed her a glass of water, which she sipped and felt better.
Evelyn touched her daughter’s hand. “Take your time, dear. The evening is young. Everyone is still in good spirits.” Then she chuckled. “That’s two of my daughters who have fainted on the floor of the Tremont.”
The women all laughed.
“Technically,” Sophie said, “Elise didn’t actually faint so much as she passed out.”
“Sophie!” Elise protested, clearly embarrassed by the mention of when she’d drunk too much punch and fallen into her now-husband’s arms, nearly sliding down the front of him onto the dance floor. At the time, he was barely an acquaintance though she’d already been carrying a spark for him for years.
Riley shot his wife a fond look and offered her a wry grin. “I remember when you fainted away at my feet. You frightened me half to death.”
Sophie blushed. “You caught me as I recall, exactly like William caught Rose.”
“I feel much better,” Rose said. “I want to see William. Let’s go downstairs.”
Slowly, they went downstairs and walked into the ballroom, like a cluster of lovely flowers, with Riley taking up the rear. The rest of their menfolk were beside them in an instant.
“You gave me quite a scare,” William said to Rose. “Are you well?”
She nodded, glad to set eyes on him and to hold his hand. He was real. He loved her.
“What happened?” he asked as she leaned into his side.
What had happened? She’d seen a ghost — a realistic-looking ghost. So real, in fact, that he’d been flesh-colored and breathing. However,
she knew with certainty that he wasn’t real.
“I honestly don’t know, but I feel quite recovered. I’m even ready to dance.”
William’s face broke out in a smile. “If you’re up to it.” He took her hand. “I’ve been dying to show you off all night.”
“Take it easy,” Riley called after them.
Rose finally got to experience dancing in the arms of the man she loved, feeling like a queen, dressed in the loveliest garment she’d ever worn. She enjoyed hours with her family and friends, eating, drinking, and definitely making merry.
Through it all, however, she felt strangely detached, as if she was watching the party through another person’s eyes. She spent the first hour after awakening looking for Finn’s ghost at every turn on the dance floor.
When she realized how foolish that was, she tried to stop herself and nearly succeeded. Yet even as she focused on William’s handsome face or her sister’s loving smiles, Rose was aware of a shadowy discontent. Her own ridiculous hallucination had cast a pall over her engagement party, and she was determined to hide it from all those who had worked so hard to make this a special night.
She hated the fact that she was slightly relieved when the party was over. Yet she couldn’t deny that she was glad to climb into her bed that night under her mother’s roof. In the dark and quiet, Rose pondered what she’d seen.
The apparition had been so real — looking slightly older, Finn’s wheat-colored hair a wee bit longer, yet his clothing in fashion. She wrinkled her nose, trying to understand what it meant. Wouldn’t a ghost have looked exactly as Finn had looked when he’d died over three years earlier, nearly four? What’s more, if he were merely a figment of her imagination, wouldn’t he have been as she remembered him from their last night together?
She sighed in frustration. She was not going insane. She was merely tired; it was two in the morning. Obviously, at the beginning of the evening, she’d been overexcited by the event. Her agitated brain had conjured up another exciting time from her past and summoned Finn.
Besides, the party had been a great success, and William was the perfect fiancé. She could ask for nothing more.
An Inconceivable Deception Page 7