Page 53 of House of Roots and Ruin
His eyes drifted down, leveling me with the certainty that Alex wasn’t referencing Gerard’s proclivities for long, drawn-out dinners.
“Oh,” I murmured, coloring instantly.
“I didn’t always understand that growing up. Didn’t understand who all the women were. I’d see them for a spell and then they’d be gone…. He moves through them quickly, always wanting something new.”
“Poor Dauphine.” My heart ached for her. “Do you think she knows?”
Alex’s face was grim. “I think Mother buries herself deeply in her own pursuits—socializing and shopping—to avoid thinking on it too long. But I’m sure it stings. I know it does,” he added. “So, this Constance,” he mused, then shrugged. “I’ve no ideawhoshe is but I’ve no doubt I know exactlywhatkind of help she was giving him.”
I squirmed, uncertain of what to say.
“He mentioned a list,” Alex said, abruptly changing the conversation as he pushed himself over to the writing desk to reposition the statue. “What list?”
I rose to fix the drapes and offered him the slip of paper.
“Oh, Father.”
“What is it? What do they mean?”
He crumpled the list before tossing it into a refuse basket. “Only that a leopard can certainly never change its spots. He wants to add in a bouquet?” he guessed, spotting the books on my worktable. I nodded and he picked them up. “Don’t bother. This isn’t his painting.”
“Wait—” I said, grabbing at the stack. “I actually would like to look through those. The meaning in the flowers…I’d like to learn more.”
Alex relented, releasing his hold on them. “As you wish.”
I opened the first one, skimming through the pages, captivated by the botanical renderings and the lists of possible meanings each flower could impart. “Perhaps I’ll make you a bouquet later today. I could put in…” I flipped to a new page, trying to spot something appropriate. Something that would bring back his smile. “A rose.”
The skin around his eyes crinkled as he laughed. “So unimaginative!”
“It’s my first time ever trying to speak in flower!” I exclaimed, feigning indignity.
“Well, you’ll need to take care with your colors. What will you pick?”
I scanned the surprisingly long entry. “Blush, I think.” I read further. “A thornless blush rose.” I glanced up, hoping I’d selected right. It was meant to represent an early affection, earnestly held out with the hopes of reciprocation.
He considered this as he moved back to his position, ready for our session to begin. “I would be honored to receive that from you.”
I picked up my pencil and looked around the easel. “Would you send anything back?”
Alexander’s face broke into a perfect grin and I went to work, quickly capturing it on the canvas.
“Oh, Verity, you’ll have to wait and see.”
“What are we doing all the way out here?” I asked as we ventured past the gardens, following a planked walkway into Chauntilalie’s nearby forest.
Forestwas perhaps too strong a word. The greenery was obviously well cared for—the brambles and vines that would normally creep and crawl with abandon along a woodland floor were manicured back, keeping the path passable for Alex’s chair. But the trees looked rough and wild, giving the illusion that we were setting off on a reckless adventure.
We took most of our lunches outdoors. Alexander liked showing off the hidden treasures of the vast estate and the picnics were a welcome diversion after our long morning sessions.
“You saw the Menagerie Wall as you came into the city?” Alex asked, the wheels of his chair rattling brightly along the boardwalk. I nodded. “Most people don’t know this, but there were a handful of statues made for the wall that were never used. They were deemed too terrifying. It’s said even the sculptors’ own children cried when they saw their parents workingon them. My great-great-grandfather had them brought to Chauntilalie.”
“A reasonable course of action,” I laughed. “And you’re bringing me out to these horrific beasts for a picnic?”
“Would you rather join Mother at her society luncheon today? I’m sure we have time to turn around.” He winked up at me. “You might want to ready yourself,” he continued as the walkway curved round a bend. “They’re designed to be a bit of a surprise and the first one is rather shocking.”
Even with his warning, I was caught unprepared.
The statue was affixed to the side of a monstrous willow tree. My eyes couldn’t help but sweep upward, expecting to gaze in wonder at the soaring canopy of dangling branches.
