Page 69 of Marry in Secret
“That too, but you most of all.”
She smiled. “It’s fun, and you know I like keeping busy.Besides, it’s better than sitting around waiting for this little one to arrive.”
He snorted. “Preparing for the ball of the season is hardly ‘waiting around.’”
She laughed. “Burton is in his element—he has everything and everyone running like clockwork. First thing in the morning the girls deal with all the mail that has come in, and really there is very little for me to do. Besides, it’s so interesting watching the girls working together. Lily is the artistic one, and Rose the decisive one—and the one who gets everyone moving.”
“And George?”
“Would you believe George has discovered a passion for gardening? She’s turning the little courtyard at the back into such a pretty space.”
Cal’s brows rose. “That’s a surprise.”
“She’s a hard worker, Cal. Did she have a difficult early life? She never talks about the years before she came to us.”
“She did. From all I could make out, my damned brother left her alone, to sink or swim.”
“Well, she’s done very well. They all have. You wouldn’t believe the progress they’ve made in only a few days.”
“I would. We’re paying a fortune in labor. I don’t know how many men we’ve got working around the clock to get Beresford’s blasted house ready.”
“It’s Rose’s home too, and you don’t fool me one bit, Calbourne Rutherford. You arranged all those workmen, I know. And paid for them yourself.”
“Just eager to get her off my hands,” he said gruffly.
“Nonsense. You want your sister to be happy as much as I do.”
He frowned. “Yes, butisshe happy, Emm? Is that fellow going to be good to her?”
“It’s not going to be all smooth sailing,” Emm mused. “But I think she loves him, which has to count for a lot.”
“But does the villain love her?”
“I don’t know. I hope so. Rose might seem confident and self-sufficient, but she badly needs to be loved.”
***
Cal was wrong when he claimed that Rose spent her days at Bird Street, “harrying workmen.” There was no harrying; she merely knew what she wanted and was determined to get it.
She was loving every minute of it—even when things went wrong, such as when the paperhangers hung the sitting room paper upside down. Yes, it was a subtle design—cream flocking over a lovely pale green background—but surely anyone could see that was a stylized pineapple! And that the frill of leaves or spikes or whatever you called them went at the top.
As for the excuse that the wretched men had never eaten a pineapple or even seen one—well, that was no reason for them not to know their business! Luckily she’d discovered the error in time, and made them pull it off and start again, this time with the pattern right side up.
It was Thomas’s house, but she was the one who cared about how the house looked—Thomas would probably have just cleared out all the fussy little ornaments and replaced the furniture with something more solid, and that would be that.
“Close your eyes,” she told him.
Thomas obediently closed them. He’d taken to dropping into Bird Street every evening. They’d fallen into a routine—first Ned would come to collect Lily and he’d walk her home, and George and her dog back to Ashendon House. By then all the workers had left, and Rose was alone in the house. It was then that Thomas came to her, ostensibly to see the progress of the house renovations before walking her home, but really, Rose knew it was to see her. It was heartwarming how hard he pretended to be interested. The ground floor was still in chaos, with ladders and builders’ tools and curing plaster and drying paint the only evidence of progress. But it was going to be lovely, she was sure. Only one room was completely finished; Rose had made it her priority.
“Keep them closed.” She led him up the stairs to the room in which they’d first made love. “And now... open.”
It was the same room, but what a transformation. Rose was delighted with it. She’d had the heavy old-fashioned paper stripped and replaced it with a light cream one, making the room much lighter.
The big four-poster bed remained, but she’d had the base restrung and fitted with a new mattress with a warm woolen base and a feather topping, thick as a cloud. It was made up now with fresh cotton sheets, plump new pillows and beautiful soft blue bedclothes.
She’d had the old felt matting ripped out and now a beautiful cream-and-blue Aubusson rug lay in its place. The heavy old blue bed-curtains were gone and the bed was hung with gauzy white drapes. She would order warm ones for the winter, but for the time being these were perfect, letting the breezes circulate on hot summer nights.
She was looking forward to hot summer nights with Thomas.
