A LADY NAMED ROSE
Chapter Thirty-One
Rose surveyed the still life of a pear with a
critical eye and decided it needed more shading to reflect the angle of
sunlight. She carefully dabbed on a bit more charcoal gray with a tiny brush,
cocked her head, and frowned. She repeated the action and decided that would
have to do. She just hoped the perfectionists in the studio program would be
satisfied; she'd had to submit an entire portfolio of her best work just to be
considered.
"Is the painting for sale, Miss?"
came a male voice at her shoulder. Rose jumped nearly a foot, and her heart
fluttered at twice its normal rate when she realized who the intruder was.
Sebastian's gray eyes twinkled merrily.
"Angelica told me to meet her here, but apparently she's at some sort of
formal affair?"
"Yes, the junior prom. She should be
back shortly, if you'd like to wait." She nodded in the direction of the
parlor and turned her attention back to the painting.
"I'll wait in here, if you don't
mind."
He took a seat in one of the stiff chairs in
the dorm library, where Rose had set up an easel after Miss Henderson granted her
permission. The art studio was locked on Sundays.
"Why aren't you at the dance?"
Sebastian inquired.
Rose pretended to be indifferent. "Oh,
it sounded silly, like the balls we had in finishing school. I don't even know
where it is."
"Did you really have no interest in
attending," he asked slowly, "or did you lack an escort?"
Rose glared at him. "How presumptuous of
you to think of me as some wallflower! If you must know, Angelica asked me if I
wanted to go with one of the actors in the troupe, as she did, and I turned her
down."
Sebastian chuckled and threw his hands in the
air. "All right, I surrender. No more teasing, I promise."
"What are you doing here, anyway?
There's no male visitors allowed on Sundays."
"I guess there are now." His eyes
mocked her. Rose avoided his gaze by studying the painting, but found she
couldn't concentrate. Damn him.
"I've been meaning to ask--" and
here Sebastian paused awkwardly, "--how is your friend, Charlotte?"
"I don't know. She's left town." It
had been a few weeks since Charlotte's departure, and other than a brief letter
to Vera--in which she wrote that she gave the doctor who treated her a phony
name to protect herself and her friends--there had been no news.
Rose finally worked up the courage to face
Sebastian directly. "I never got a chance to thank you for what you did.
If it hadn't been for you showing up..."
"Don't thank me, Rose. It was your quick
thinking that saved Charlotte's life."
Her face flushed and she turned away.
"You know, your heroic exploits are legend
to Angelica. She told me all about the dramatic delivery of your employer's
newborn. And in a storm, too, no less. And it wasn't the first time,
apparently; she mentioned something about a heifer on a farm? Are there any
more rescues I don't know about?"
He examined her with those probing eyes, and
again Rose felt as though he could see through her, straight into her soul. It
was as if he knew her secrets, and was waiting for a confession. All this, and
the kiss of which they dared not speak, hung in the air between them.
"Well, here you are, seven hours
late!" Angelica swept into the library on a radiant wave of green--an
emerald evening gown accompanied by sparkling jade earrings and a matching
necklace. Her escort, bearing her sable coat as if it were priceless cargo,
followed unobtrusively. Despite her scolding tone, it was clear Angelica was
just playing at being angry; her face showed only pleasure at Sebastian's
visit.
"If it isn't the belle of the ball
herself!" Sebastian rose and kissed Angelica's hand. "You look
lovely, Angel."
She twittered in a manner that made Rose
cringe, then gestured to her escort. "Rose, you know Max, don't you?"
She didn't--he'd only signed on with the
Geisels since they returned from their tour--but Angelica blithely continued
talking. "I really could use a cup of coffee," she hinted.
"There's a little cafe on Raymond Avenue that's open on Sundays--"
"Is there a kitchen in this
building?" Sebastian cut her off. "You really shouldn't go back out
in that chill, and with all that finery on."
"I doubt we could make anything in that
kitchen," Angelica snorted. "It's filthy."
"Then why don't you go change clothes?
Max and I will wait."
"Max has to be getting back to New
York."
"Nonsense! I'll drive him back. My car
should be considerably warmer than the train, eh, Max?"
Max smiled and nodded gratefully, while
Angelica grimaced at the reference to the train. It was embarrassing, she'd
told Rose earlier, to have one's escort arrive on public transportation. But he
was rather handsome, she'd added. What she didn't say was that she couldn't
find anyone else to take her.
This was before Sebastian unexpectedly
invited himself to the campus for a visit.
"So Rose, how does coffee and dessert
sound to you?"
Rose looked up, startled; she'd returned to
her painting and had tuned out the conversation.
"Oh, she's busy," Angelica said.
"Let's not disturb her."
"Come now, an hour away from her
schoolwork won't hurt her," Sebastian kidded.
Angelica was noticeably perturbed, and flounced
upstairs to change without another word. Max stepped outside to smoke a
cigarette, leaving Rose alone with Sebastian again. She began to put away the
paints silently while he observed.
"You know," he said, leaning in
close, "I told Angelica I was coming here to call on her, but it was you
that I wanted to see."
Rose's hands trembled and she gasped as gray
paint splattered across her dark brown skirt. "Here, I'll get that,"
Sebastian offered, rushing to her side with a handkerchief.
"No!" She backed away, suddenly
terrified of him. "I'll just take it to the laundry."
"Am I making you nervous?"
She said nothing.
"I still owe you a birthday gift, don't
I?" he continued. "Well, I'm treating you to a respite tonight. Won't
you let me do you this favor?"
She sighed. "All right. But you'll have
to give me time to change."
So rapidly that she didn't have time to
react, he closed the distance between them, reached out and gently cupped her
chin in one hand, tilting her face upwards. "I don't want you to change,"
he murmured. "I want you to remain exactly as you are."
It was at that moment that Angelica cleared
her throat in the doorway. Rose wondered just how much she'd heard, and she
didn't have to wonder long.
She knew she wasn't imagining the stealthy
looks Angelica threw in her direction when Sebastian grasped Rose's elbow and
helped her onto the sideboard of his Daimler Benz. And again when Rose
commented on the comfort of the auto. She remembered the one Cal had acquired
for their use in Southampton, and hoped, unrealistically, for an explanation as
to how a theater director's assistant could afford such a luxurious means of
travel. Angelica made it her business to know the salaries of every member of
the troupe, and they didn't earn much. But an explanation was unforthcoming.
Angelica's mood seemed to lighten at the
cafe, as she and Sebastian used their charms to convince the management to let
them in right before closing. But she dominated the conversation with stories
about theater people only she and Sebastian knew, and ignored Max to the point
where Rose felt obligated to ask him polite questions about his background,
just so he could feel included.
They arrived back on campus with only minutes
to spare until curfew. Sebastian and Max walked both ladies to the dormitory,
where Max bade them a quick goodnight. Sebastian, however, lingered.
"Rose?"
She'd already started up the stairs behind
Angelica, who turned and glanced from Rose to Sebastian, and back again. Rose
couldn't look her in the eye.
"I'll be right up," she said.
Angelica sighed, and for a moment, Rose feared her roommate would stand on the
landing and eavesdrop on their conversation. But she retreated in a huff, and
there followed the sound of a door slamming. Rose flinched.
"She is a rather temperamental gal,
isn't she?" Sebastian smiled wryly.
"She fancies you," Rose replied,
"and you pay her no mind."
"Angelica's beautiful, and witty, and
very gracious when she wants to be. But she's also the daughter of my employer,
who's seeing to it that I maintain a sort of brotherly relationship with her.
And besides--" He stared at her, hard. "--I believe I am falling for
her lovely roommate."
Rose felt faint. "You can't mean
that," she whispered. "Angelica--"
"Angelica will survive." Sebastian
reached for Rose's hand, caressing it in his own. "Rose, you are
constantly in my thoughts. I'm sorry I avoided you all these months. I know
that you cannot understand why, and the only explanation I can provide is that
I'm afraid...of causing you pain."
Her eyes questioned him, but he would only
add, "One day I'll explain. All of it. But not now. Right now I would just
like permission to call on you again. Perhaps Saturday?" Rose hesitated.
"I'm sorry. Am I rushing you?"
"Oh, no," Rose said quickly. She
felt as though she'd landed in a dream, and her thoughts were in a jumble.
"My--er--charge...I'm a governess, as you know...her name is Josephine,
it's her eighth birthday and her parents want me to--um--help with her
party."
"I see. How's Sunday, then?"
He wasn't going away. Rose knew it at that
moment. She also realized that she didn't want him to.
And so it was agreed that Sebastian would
come to call the following Sunday, after she returned from the Scotts'.
He kissed her hand and she floated upstairs,
giddy with excitement. It was all coming back to her, the butterflies, the
anticipation...
As soon as she opened her door, Angelica
pounced.
"He's mine, you hear?" she hissed,
grabbing Rose by the arm. "I don't know what you did to him, but he's in love
with me. Is that understood?"
Rose smiled calmly. "You should tell him
he's in love with you. Because he's taking me to dinner next Sunday. May I have
my arm, please?"
Angelica looked as though she might cry. Rose
had no delusions that she would be forgiven, and she was right; as of Friday
evening when she departed for Tarrytown, Angelica was still refusing to speak
to her.