by Lower, Becky
“Similar to having children, then, I suppose.” Parker almost laughed at her sharp intake of breath.
“I don’t see the similarity, Parker. A baby emerges as either a male or a female, so you can tell right away what it is.” She put a hand to her ruddy cheek.
“That much is true. But it takes several years before you get a whiff of the person the child will become. For a personality to emerge. For the traits that make that person different from everyone else to formulate. I never got to find out the kind of man my son would become.” Parker ran a hand over his heart.
Her gaze caught his, and they stared at each other for a long moment. She placed her hand over his, covering his heart as well. “Your loss must weigh on you every day.”
His other hand sandwiched hers and he tugged her closer. He leaned down, finally gave in to his needs, and captured Violet's pretty pink lips with his own. He sensed her shock, her hesitation, before she leaned into him. He kept the kiss tender and gentle, imitating the softness of the rose petals surrounding them. The scent of many different roses filled his nostrils as he lifted his hand to stroke Violet’s cheek and to curl around the back of her head, drawing her closer still. After her initial hesitation, she wrapped her other hand around his shoulder and returned his kiss. Her lips were as smooth and pliant as he thought they’d be, and he teased them with his teeth until they parted and allowed him access. He shifted his head and floated his lips over her softness, his tongue entering her mouth. He could not have selected a better person to share his first kiss in eleven years, since he had left his wife’s doorstep to fight in the war, and he could not have selected a better setting than a hothouse full of roses.
He held Violet in his arms, at last ready to put his wife and son to rest. His mind screamed the warning that he should back off. After all, this woman, Violet, had already been kissed and rejected by one man. Now, he kissed her, but soon he’d leave her, too, and head back to America. Even as his mind put the thought together, he deepened the kiss, and his hand rolled down her spine. She shivered under his touch, and he came out of his haze of lust, ceasing his exploration of her body. What the hell had he been doing?
“Forgive me, Violet. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of your kindness.” Parker stepped away from her, noting her tremor, despite the heat in the room.
Tears filled her eyes. “You should never apologize to a woman for kissing her. Am I so awful a kisser? Perhaps that’s why Davey showed me no interest after he sampled me.” Her voice wavered and broke on her last words.
Parker plowed a hand through his hair. “Violet, the quality of your kisses isn’t in question. It may have been a long time since I’ve imbibed, but I couldn’t have asked for better.”
“Then what, pray tell, is making you back off?” She blinked the tears away and stared at him, demanding an answer.
“If you’ll recall from the crude calendar in your office, I have only days left before I begin my return journey. I’ll have to leave you, just as Davey did. For different reasons, but the result will be the same.” His gaze softened and he couldn't resist brushing her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You make me willing to leave the past behind and to find someone to spend the rest of my life with. But you live thousands of miles from me, and I can’t wait to head home. It will never work for us.”
Violet stared into his eyes for a long moment, her breath warm on his cheek. Then, she raised her arms, encircled him, and kissed him again. Craving for her pooled in the core of his body, and he ached for more. He wrapped his arms around her and returned the kiss. Took his time with her this go-round. Took his fill of her. When he finally backed away, her bruised lips plumped delightfully, tempting him to come back for more. He may have initially thought he’d taken his fill, but he admitted to needing more.
“I . . . I should go.” Parker backed out of the small space, bumping into roses left and right as he scrambled to remove himself from temptation. Thorns and prickers snagged his clothing, making his withdrawal less hasty than he would have preferred. As if encouraging him to stay, to return to Violet and kiss her again until her legs couldn’t hold her up. He shook his head, closed the door to the hybrid hothouse, and barely controlled his impulse to run back to the inn. Or to retrace his steps and take Violet into his arms again.
• • •
Violet’s entire body shook as she stood in the hothouse by herself. She held on for support to the tables filled with her Lady Banks roses. Parker had finally kissed her. Really kissed her, not just on her fingers this time. She’d been able to taste the man who’d shared her space for weeks. The man she’d discussed pollination with, described in detail the process, the whole while hoping he’d show her how people performed the process. She had become damp from his kisses, become as sticky as her Lady Banks’s stigma. When he’d done the sensible thing and backed off, she’d wrapped her arms around him, begging for more. She’d been excited by his touch, yet embarrassed by her reaction. He’d expressed what she’d been hoping to forget—he had been preparing for his departure, and she didn’t play a part in it other than to help him collect the roses he needed.
Well, if he could toss her overboard with no regret, she could do the same. As soon as her body stopped shaking and her legs worked again. She would refocus, complete her work with the Lady Banks, present her findings to the Royal Horticultural Society, and become a sensation in the botanical world, as she’d set out to do long ago. She’d find a nice English fellow to marry and would discover with him all the delights of human procreation. She took deep breaths of the heavily scented air and finally left the hothouse. She marked Day Twelve off her calendar with another “x” and a sigh. Her interlude with Parker would soon come to an end. A mere handful of days ago, she would have kicked up her heels at his departure. Now the greenhouse became silent and cavernous when he left. Her empty life stretched out before her, similar to the road between Salisbury and Portsmouth.
Chapter Fourteen
Day Thirteen
Parker breathed a sigh of relief, grateful he had already been scheduled for a day with Edgar Wilson. If he got anywhere near Violet before he could get his feelings under control, he had no idea what the result might be.
Yes, a day in the clean open air, wandering from one estate to the other, observing how Edgar managed to keep all parts of his establishment running smoothly, would be just the ticket to get Parker’s thoughts to line up in orderly rows, like a field of corn. Like Violet’s rows of roses.
“Has my daughter been treating you well?” Edgar’s innocent question startled Parker out of his rampant thoughts about Violet. He shook his head to clear his mind and to concentrate on what information Edgar wished to impart to him today. He had his notepad in his hands but had yet to write anything down.
“Yes, she’s been most accommodating.” He’d seen how Edgar defended his daughter once he’d found out about Carson’s treatment of her, so it became imperative that his indiscretion with Violet remain a secret. And never happen again. “I appreciate having her interrupt her routine to assist me. We’ve selected the roses for Mr. Jefferson’s garden and I ordered additional for the nursery. She’s already shown me her different technique for growing new roses from cuttings, and then yesterday, started teaching me how she hybridizes. I’m learning quite a lot from her.” And she’s learning quite a lot from me. Another thought that would remain a secret.
“Yes, Violet’s already delivered part of your rose order to Iris to tally up along with the seed packets you requested. It will take a couple of days to load your order, but I’d say within a week, you’ll be on your way back to America.” Edgar placed a hand on Parker’s shoulder.
Parker rubbed his hand over his heart. Of course, he anxiously counted the days until his departure, as excited to leave as Edgar seemed to be to see him off. But leaving Mulberry Hill meant never seeing Violet again. She had a life, an important job, and a family here in England. Despite Parker’s belief she’d make a good American in
spite of being British, he understood her place had to be here.
“It will be good to get home, but I’m not relishing another trip across the ocean. I had seasickness for the entire first week on the way over. I presume it will be more of the same on the return.” Parker relived his uncomfortable and dangerous trip on the high seas, and his stomach heaved at the very thought.
He blinked to clear his vision and faced Edgar. “This time, I’ll have hundreds of roses to take care of, so I’d better not give in to sickness. Violet would string me up if one of her roses died under my care.”
Edgar grinned. “She might just chase you across the Atlantic, at that.”
Parker rubbed his chin. He obviously had a great deal to ponder in the days ahead. But he’d better figure out some of it before he faced Violet again tomorrow.
Did he wish for Violet to chase him across the water? To come to America with him? He’d started the day with questions that he thought he’d be able to clarify by spending a day in the open air. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Edgar had taken him to the orchard today, and he needed to observe how this part of the nursery operated, because Thomas McMahon planned to incorporate an orchard into their nursery back home. He needed to banish all thoughts of roses, and Violets, and focus instead on apples and pears. He listened with half an ear to Edgar as he explained the merits of each type of apple, but his mind clouded over with questions he couldn’t rid himself of.
Perhaps his interest in Violet had been spurred on simply because she happened to be the first woman he’d kissed since his wife died? Because she’d nursed him back to health? Because she’d performed an intimate action by tying his cravat? Did she have any feelings for him, or had her response in the hothouse been merely a reaction to his lust? There would be only one way to find out. But finding out meant he’d have to add another open box on his checklist, instead of ticking them off.
• • •
Even though she craved solitude, as she had every day of her life, Violet still couldn’t make herself climb the hill to her greenhouse. She puttered around the house, taking her time with her morning’s toilette and deciding which of her ugly dresses to wear. Not that the state of her dresses had ever bothered her before. In fact, she’d never even deemed them distasteful until today. But she now viewed them through the eyes of the world traveler who had been in her company for nearly two weeks, and she found her attire lacking. Perhaps her poor appearance had been the reason for his hasty departure yesterday. Or maybe it had been her poor kissing ability, despite Parker’s denial that she lacked finesse in that arena. She wandered down the hall from the breakfast room to the office where Iris worked and stood quietly for a moment as Iris shoved her eyeglasses up on her nose and poked another pencil into her messy bun.
She glanced up from her work, sensing another presence. “Hey, Violet. Have you come to give me more work? Where’s your Mr. Sinclair?”
Violet couldn't control the blush, which raced up her body and into her cheeks. “He’s not ‘my’ Mr. Sinclair. And he’s spending the day with Father.”
“So you’re here for a social visit?” Iris raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to talk about something?”
Violet took a seat in front of Iris. “Do you mind?”
Iris shrugged and set her papers to one side. “Not at all. So what’s bothering you?”
“Mr. Sinclair. Parker.” Violet took a deep breath.
Iris came out of her seat. “Has he harmed you?”
“No, of course not. Sit down, you silly woman. In fact, he defended me when Carson and Davey tried to harm me. He’s been a perfect gentleman. So unlike Carson. And Davey.” Violet clasped her hands together.
“Yes, Father told me what Carson’s been up to with you. Why didn’t you come to me when that whole mess first started?”
“I was embarrassed and ashamed by the reason Carson thought he now could take advantage of me,” Violet shrugged. “And I thought I could handle whatever he dished out.”
“There’s a vast difference between being gullible and being ashamed.” Iris clasped her hands on the desktop as if in prayer.
“When Carson started threatening to take Poppy’s innocence, I became frightened. Mr. Sinclair stepped into the middle of the situation when he saw Carson and Davey had me cornered by the barn and he overheard them threaten to go after Poppy. He assisted me in exposing Carson’s behavior to Father.”
“Ah well, it’s over and done with now. So, what’s your problem today, then, with Mr. Sinclair?” Iris studied her carefully. Then, she inhaled a sharp breath and pointed a finger at Violet. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
“Wha . . . what?” Violet shook her head as her cheeks burned. “No, of course not. We’ve only just met.”
“You might be able to fool everyone else. Maybe even yourself. Maybe even Mr. Sinclair. But I can read you better than anyone. Even better than Mother had been able to. You’ve fallen top over tail for the man. What will you do now?” Iris steepled her fingers together.
“What can I do?” Violet wailed and spread her hands wide, palms up. “We’re nearly done with our work. I have only one more lesson for him. We’ve selected all the roses he needs and come up with some really nice designs for the beds. He’s heading back to America in a few days and can’t wait to bid farewell to England. And I can never leave this country if I want to become a member of the Royal Horticultural Society. Besides, it’s too early to tell if it’s love or just an infatuation. After all, Mother and Father courted for over a year before they married.”
“Sounds to me as if you’ve got a ton of excuses to avoid the real dilemma.” Iris shrugged.
Violet wrung her hands together. “What if he asks Father for my hand and I decide to accompany him to America and he grows tired of me on the trip over? I’ll be abandoned in America where I am not surrounded by family, with no way to return home.”
Iris tugged one of the pencils from her bun. “Father would pay for you to return, should that be the case. Not a good enough reason to toss the idea away. Did you make a list of pros and cons? That would be my first approach to the situation.”
Violet got to her feet. “Of course it would be your approach. You’re the list maker. I’m not. Besides, there are plenty more reasons why not to consider anything than there are reasons why to consider.”
“Are you so certain? Would you care for my help in compiling a list? As you’ve said, I’m quite good with the process.” Iris tugged out a clean sheet of paper from her multiple stacks on the desk, licked the end of her pencil, quickly wrote down two headings, and then glanced up at Violet. “Let’s begin.”
Violet’s head swam with ideas about what should go under the headings. She remained silent.
“All right, then, I’ll start.” Iris pondered for a moment. “He’s one handsome fellow. That definitely goes on the ‘Pro’ side.” She scribbled on her list. Violet bit her lip.
“Enough, Iris. I’ll handle it on my own. Thank you for listening to me.” Violet retreated from the office, backing toward the door.
“I’m afraid I haven’t been of much help, Violet. Although I’d love to continue creating the list, you should be the one to do so.” Iris rose and followed her to the door, wrapping her in an embrace. “But I’m here if you need me to make sense of things. Mr. Sinclair is quite attractive, despite his limp, and you’re a worthy partner to him. Even though Father’s longing for one of us to marry a man who would be interested in the family business, Mr. Sinclair is not the right choice to take over. He’s not the British fellow Father has hoped for. But I don’t wish for you to leave England, and he probably won’t stay.”
“Yes, that about sums up my dilemma.” Violet’s thoughts were scattered as she finally left Iris and climbed the hill to her greenhouse. Maybe being in her familiar setting with her lovely roses, getting back into her routine, would calm her down. Or maybe she’d spend her time reminiscing about how Parker had kissed her yesterday. And how s
he’d kissed him back. Iris had only muddied the situation. Perhaps some clarity would come from a list, after all. Writing things down certainly couldn’t hurt and would stop the incessant questions swirling through her brain. Yes, she could see the wisdom in creating one of Iris’s lists for her own situation. She’d begin as soon as she got to her desk.
Chapter Fifteen
Day Fourteen
The day had dawned bright and clear for a change. Parker took a deep breath of the sweet-smelling air as he left the inn to make his way to Violet’s greenhouse. A day apart had done little to tamp down his feelings for her. If anything, a day away from her had whetted his appetite. He needed to see her again. To make certain his wish for her to become a permanent part of his life had merit. To make certain her feelings were in agreement with his.
Footsteps closed in behind him as he cleared the gate at the end of the walk in front of the inn, so he spun around and got a good glimpse of the person on his heels. His stomach sank and his hands fisted. He had expected a showdown. But he had not been relishing one.
“Good morning, Carson. Are you still hanging around? Hoping Mr. Wilson will come to his senses and hire you back?” Parker’s muscles bunched as the man hovered near him.
“For your information, I already have a new job, since good groomsmen are always in demand. But I have a little matter to take care of before I head off to my new position,” Carson muttered. “No one gets the best of me, and it’s time to head for home, you bloody American.”
“So you can once again torment innocent ladies? Take advantage of Violet and Poppy?” Parker barked out a laugh.
“You honestly feel your presence here has been protection enough?” Carson growled, and Parker’s insides tied into a knot. Had Carson already gotten his claws into Poppy? Had he been to the greenhouse and injured Violet? Alone in her greenhouse on the hill, she would be an easy target.