3: Wallflowers in Bloom

UPDATE 13/10/24: This chapter has had another 1500 words added to it - please read for more backstory!!!

She was barely in the hallway before Greer looped her arm through Rosemary's and pulled them into step together.

"Well..."

Rose could hear the smile in her friend's voice without having to look, yet she did anyway, her own lips curling at the grin the woman levelled at her.

"What an interesting evening this has become!" Greer continued, glancing down the corridor. "And here I thought I'd spend the night as a wallflower in the ballroom without any intrigue at all!"

Her friend huffed a laugh. She hardly considered her conversation with Alex 'intrigue', but there was more to take offence at.

"I doubt any here consider you a wallflower, Greer."

The woman shrugged, the sleeve of her gown sliding against Rosemary's with the movement. "A spinster then."

At that, Rosemary could not help but roll her eyes. "Oh hush, Greer! You're not yet five and twenty!"

"And yet still firmly on the shelf." There was neither regret nor self-pity in her tone, only grim acknowledgement.

Rose would not stand for it.

"Well then I – at the grand old age of seven and twenty – will surely join you!"

She might have expected a smile from her friend, perhaps a laugh, but instead she received a rather odd, taut look. It faded away almost instantly as a gentleman passed them by, nodding amiably, and then when they were alone once more it returned. Her mouth was drawn into a straight line, her lips thinning and pale, and her frown was so heavy that her eyebrows almost met in the middle. Seriousness was not uncharacteristic for Lady Greer Evlington but this level of graveness was alarming.

"Rosemary, may I speak candidly with you?"

If Rose was not so unnerved, she night have been a little offended that she had asked. "Always, Greer."

"It's just that I intend to be particularly candid," she said, sliding her arm out from Rosemary's with the caution of a woman who feared she might be thrown off, "and I'm afraid you may not enjoy what I intend to say."

"Well..." Rose spotted a settee over Greer's shoulder, and took her hand, leading her over to the lounge and settling firmly at one end. "Consider me forewarned," she said with a firm nod.

Greer watched her for a short moment, her grey eyes seeming to scour Rose's face, before slowly taking the seat beside her. In this position, they were both granted a sweeping view of the hallway and, importantly, anyone who might overhear them. When she was certain the corridor was empty, Greer set her hands firmly in her lap.

"Forgive me, Rosemary, but there will never come a time when you are considered 'on the shelf'. Not by your friends, not by you mama, and most certainly not by the Ton." Greer spoke quickly but evenly, only her pinched smile betraying her. "I do not say this to offend you, only because I have just had the startling realisation that perhaps you are the only person who does not know."

In the silence that followed, broken only by the string quartet resuming a brisk melody, Rosemary blinked. If Greer were a woman more prone to fancy – such as Rose's younger sister Victoria – she might have laughed in her face. And the suggestion was laughable, she assured herself; she was seven and twenty years, she was widowed, and – perhaps most importantly – she had made every effort to stay as far from the marriage mart as she possibly could! It was nonsensical!

She raised one gloved hand, setting it lightly on her friend's forearm. "Greer, I –"

The other woman sighed. "I knew you would not care to be told."

Rose ignored her – politely – and tried again. "Greer, I always appreciate your honesty, but I'm afraid you are mistaken."

"I appreciate your appreciation..." She attempted a smile, but it died in place. "But I am not." A wisp of her dark hair, having escaped from its braided prison, brushed against her cheek, and she tucked it behind her ear with a frustrated motion. Her other hand turned, catching Rosemary's fingers and giving them a gentle squeeze. "It may have been many years since you considered yourself an eligible lady, but the Ton barely ever stopped."

Rosemary had to tear her eyes away at that, swallowing a sudden, heavy lump in her throat. That 'barely', she knew, meant the year she'd been married. There was a time when even that thought, just grazing the memory of her late husband, would have been enough to bring her to her knees, but time... it did not heal all wounds, not in Rosemary's experience, but it blunted the weapons that made them. Now the memories could only prod at the ache in her heart, not render it open so absolutely.

"But..." she heard herself say, "I'm a widow."

Greer's short fingers curled into hers, squeezing tightly.

"I mean no insult to Mr Albright's memory – I should have very much liked to meet him – but you know what the Ton thought of your match." Greer spoke ever so gently, but the words brought tears to Rosemary's eyes. She dashed them away with the back of one hand, swearing to herself they were borne of frustration, not sadness.

Harry had been kind, and full of smiles. He had worked hard and laughed deeply, and she had loved him from the time she was sixteen. But Harry had also been a farmer, and the Ton had never forgiven him.

"They believe they have an opportunity to correct your..." Greer winced, but she was too good of a friend not to finish the thought, "... mistake."

A mistake.

"I am too old." Even to her own ears it sounded desperate. She raised her gaze, meeting Greer's grey gaze with a raised chin.

"Many widows remarry far older than you, Rosemary." She shrugged slightly, an apology in the set of her mouth.

So that was that. Like an error on a slate, the Ton would have her wipe her past clean and erase any memory of Harrison Albright. She would not let them.

"The Ton may harbour whatever hopes for me that they wish, but there is one thing they cannot influence." She straightened her back, allowing generations of stubborn lords and arch ladies to strengthen her. "Me. I will not marry again, and they have no power to force me."

She stood abruptly. "Now, I'm of a mind to go show those nosy matrons exactly how much of a wallflower I choose to be." She held one hand out to Greer. "Care to join me?"

Greer rolled her eyes at her friend but took her hand, letting Rosemary lead her back into the ballroom. They received a few curious looks, but Rose's practiced smile appeased the crowd before anyone could think too badly of them. She wove them through the crowd expertly, finding a vacant stretch of wall that they could easily stand against. As she pulled Greer up beside her, the girl let out a breathless laugh.

"Goodness, Rosemary – where did you learn to scamper like that?"

The other woman levelled a small grin at her, smoothing down her skirts. She might be light-footed, but it would hardly do to be seen in a disarray – what would her mother think?

"From Alexander, actually," she said, leaning back against the wall. "He led us on all sorts of adventures when we were children."

"Us?" There was something about Greer suggested she was never just engaging in polite conversation. She wanted to know the answers to her questions. It made it very easy to open up to her.

"Myself and Beth, mostly. Though sometimes our younger siblings could be coaxed to join." She screwed up her nose a little. "Victoria never much cared for it, as you might imagine."

Greer laughed along with her at the idea of her prim younger sister trailing around in the outdoors.

"I always assumed your families became close after the previous Duke and Duchess of Germaine passed, but I must be wrong." She turned a little in place, directing her full attention to Rosemary. Her lavender skirt swept to the side, nearly tripping a footman as he passed with a tray, but she did not seem to notice.

Rose smiled gently at the man in apology as he hurried away.

"We were always close. My father was the younger brother of the old Duke, and when he passed, my aunt and uncle rallied around my mother to support her." Greer placed a comforting hand on her forearm, but she smiled it away. Her father had died when she was barely old enough to remember him, and although it was always sad to think that she never knew him, it did not pain her as much as other deaths had in her life.

She swallowed away that thought.

"Bart inherited my father's title and estate as well, so it made sense to keep the families close so that he was well prepared to take over when the time came. And then Aunt Delia was very close with her sister, so we saw Alex regularly as well."

"But not the Marquis or Lord Peter?"

Rose shook her head. "They were older."

They took a moment to look around the room, admiring the swirl of dresses and – importantly – the companiable quietude they had found amidst the chaos. As she watched, Rose saw Lord DeGeorge's bearded form spin past, a brunette she couldn't identify held politely in his arms. For a moment she thought he might have seen her, his eyes locked in their direction, but with the next refrain of the song he was off and she did not spot him for the rest of the dance.

That did not settled the uncomfortable tingle that set off in her belly, and she lamented her mother's continued matchmaking attempts.

"So your youth was spent creating mischief on the Humphrey estate, was it? I can't quite picture it."

Rose smiled. Greer was right. Of all the trios to create havoc, sweet Beth, stern Alex, and polite Rosemary had been the most unlikely. But as they'd traipsed through fields and ponds, splashing in rivers and admiring the world around them, they had done just that. It was never intentional; Beth would admire the flowers or get caught up watching how the staff worked; Alex would dig up a few plants to see how their roots grew or where their water came from; and Rosemary... She would be breathing in the fresh air and dreading the moment she had to return to a dance or etiquette lesson.

"I think it was mostly Alexander's fault," she replied to Greer. She looked around briefly, half expecting the man in question to appear and defend his good name. He didn't and she was a little disappointed. "He was a couple of years older and just fascinated with the land. I think we wanted to feel what he felt."

Greer's head tilted to the side. "And did you?"

"I did." It was an easy answer. "I loved being outdoors. I was walking the borders of our estate when I met..." Her smile wavered for a moment, but she persevered. ".... Harry."

The other woman nodded easily, pressing away from the wall. She caught a footman's eye – not the same one she'd nearly tripped – and waved over a glass of punch for each of them. "When did Mister Alexander leave then?"

Rose took the cup from the footman with a smile of thanks, sipping at the fruity drink as she considered. She had been perhaps sixteen, which would make Alex... "Perhaps just before his twenty-first birthday? There was very little warning." She remembered Aunt Delia's sadness easily, and well as the irritation that had grown in her older sons as they watched.

Greer let out a puff of air, shaking her head. "I can't imagine. And to think, he's only seen his family 3 or 4 times in the decade since then?" She clicked her tongue against her teeth. "I can't imagine that, even with my family the way it is."

It was Rose's turn to offer a comforting hand. Not all families were harmonious; Alex and Greer were evidence enough of that.

"He kept in touch with us for a while," she said softly. "We wrote back and forth every week for over a year. But then he was at university, and I was engaged to Harry and it all..." She shrugged. "Petered out."

Greer moved further away from the wall, positioning herself so that Rose was well lit and she could see the details of her expression. "The gossip says he didn't speak to anyone after he left?"

Rosemary made a face that told her exactly how she felt about gossip. A shadow moved up behind Greer, and for a moment Rose worried that it was DeGeorge. Instead she was greeted by the kind smile of her eldest cousin, and a nod from his next eldest brother.

"Rosemary, how are you this evening?" Simon asked.

Greer was startled by his voice and stepped away quickly, her shock turned to smiles when she saw who had interrupted them.

Simon returned the expression. "And you Lady Evlington, are you well?"

"Very, thank you your grace." She dipped a slight curtsy.

As she descended, Bart looked her over quickly, as if trying to place her, but the moment she lifted her head he was all smiles. Rosemary had always thought that a strangely useful habit of Bart's – the ability to transform oneself to fit the situation.

"We were just discussing when Alexander Kilroy went away, and how the rumours would say he left without a word," Rosemary said, raising her eyebrows to again suggestion what she thought of the rumours. "But you both received his letters too, did you not?"

For every bit that Bart wore a mask, Simon was easy to read. His frown descended quickly, and there was a short silence as he wracked his memory. He looked to Bart for confirmation, and then turned back to Rose.

"Not that I recall, no."

It was Rosemary's turn to frown. But there was no time to ask further questions; the music drew to a close, and the dancefloor undulated with movement as pairs moved on and off in anticipation of the next song.

Simon smiled at her. "I had hoped you would join me for a dance, Rose?" He offered her his hand.

She took it even as she asked, "Has your lovely wife abandoned you?"

He nodded sagely. "Alas, she has." Leaning forward he whispered, "She find the pregnancy makes her too uncomfortable, and would rather put her feet up."

"Well then I would happily fill in for her."

The first notes of the next song struck up and Simon pulled her towards the floor, Bart and Greer following in their wake to join them, despite the large height difference. Taking her place, Rose wondered at the difference in her enthusiasm between being offered a dance with a 'prospect' like De George, or a married, kind cousin like Simon... or a distant friend like Alex Kilroy.

~~~

Hello Lovely Readers!

My gosh, two authors notes in one chapter? How decadent! ;) I hope you're enjoying aHU and are finding Rosemary and Alex to be interesting characters. If you haven't read any of the other Humphrey Chronicles, please go ahead and check out Husband Wanted and Daughter on his Doorstep - they are both completed works and have a lot more detail about the Humphrey siblings and the adventures the wider family get up to.

As this is an ONC entry, I do need to produce another 1 - 2 chapters (3000 words) of this story by the end of March, so stay tuned for more updates! And if you're looking for more light reading, please check out my other ONC entry "Crystal Heart" which is another period romance with a hint of magic/paranormal.

I love and appreciate your support - please remember to vote, comment, and follow!

xx Flo

UPDATE 13/10/24: This chapter was far too short and I decided it was the perfect opportunity to add some more backstory on Alex and Rose, and how they AREN'T related lol (so many people have been concerned that they are related, and whilst that was a thing that happened a lot in the regency era, that is not an element of this book). Let me know if you like the addition!!! xx Flo