A part of Fern wanted Rose to refuse, to urge Fern to tell Alex the truth. Was it possible Fern could win Alex’s heart all on her own?
She glanced down at her fingernails, bitten to the quick. The sleeve of her dress had an ink stain on the cuff, as did her fingers.I could never win him. I would never be enough.
Rose’s feathered brows furrowed. “I do trust you, but I also want you to be happy.”
I deserve to be happy,she thought. For a moment she almost told Rose her plan, but the words caught in her throat. Rose would never go along with it. Not only was she a terrible actor (as demonstrated by her performance when Alex called on her), but she would not approve of any form of deception. Rose valued character and honesty above all.
But the likelihood of her falling for Alex was minimal, she rationalized. He was not at all the type of man she had in mind as a suitor. If she could keep up their courtship for long enough, she could sit for her examinations and secure her space at Oxford, then Rose and Alex could end their courtship when they saw fit. No one would even have to know her involvement.
Fern forced a smile as she squeezed her sister’s hand. “I will be happy, I know it. I just need a bit more time.”
Chapter 11
“Thisdoesn’tmakeanysense.” Alex leaned back on his heels, crossing his arms over the chest of his tweed jacket.
“It makes perfect sense,” Fern retorted as she gestured toward the table tucked into the sidewalk outside the ice cream shop on Magdalen Street, surrounded by cascading hyacinth trellises and overlooking the sandstone walls and Gothic spires of Balliol College.
Alex fidgeted with his sleeves, uncertain if he could convincingly play the part of a confident gentleman in Rose’s presence after their last meeting had gone so poorly.
Fern shifted a chair so its inhabitant would have an unimpeded view of the street while being surrounded by the romantic aroma of flowers. She nodded approvingly at her work, then pointed for Alex to sit, as though she were staging him to be painted for a portrait.
“Rose is shopping with Mama up the street. By this time of day Mama always grows tired and takes the carriage back, and we have time to shop before the carriage comes back for us. I will insist Rose joins me for an ice. She would never refuse. She adores ices, and she thinks this is the best shop in Oxford. Take care to remember that,” she said, wagging a finger at him before she darted back up the street to meet Rose.
The plan still unsettled Alex. Fern had assured him Rose would not know of her sister’s involvement, and Rose would be kind enough to give Alex another chance after their disastrous meeting. She had equipped him with ample advice (Praise her eyes, laugh at her jokes heartily and praise her wit, do not use sarcasm, she finds it distasteful) and provided conversation topics (the latest style of hats, romantic novels, various flavors of tea sandwiches). It all seemed contrary to the woman he remembered from the masquerade, but Fern knew her sister, so Alex would have to trust her.
It seemed like only a moment before he saw the sisters walking toward him.It is remarkable,he thought,how similar they are.Identical height, nearly identical coloring, and their smiles… How had he not noticed they shared a smile?
Alex feigned concentration in his book while Fern stepped into the shop to buy their ices. Alex looked up and put on a surprised face as he stood. “Miss Rose?” he said, his voice catching.
She turned towards him and her lips twitched upward, and he felt as though the sun had burst through the clouds. She had dressed all in pink again, this time in a crisp coral dress and sun hat, white gloves covering her long fingers. Fingers that had touched his face. He remembered holding her hand, how electricity pulsed through his veins at their contact.
Rose’s eyes darted toward the shop’s entrance, but then she stepped toward him tentatively. “Mr. Carroway, how lovely to see you again.”
“It’s a pleasure to see you as well. Would you care to join me for an ice?” he asked, motioning towards the table.
A smile of pleasure crossed Rose’s face. “This is my favorite table. It has the best view of the street, for people watching.” Alex smiled as well, reminding himself to thank Fern later.
“Please join me.” He pulled out a chair for her and waited, his breath frozen in his lungs.
She moved towards the seat and then stopped. “Oh, but my sister is inside buying me an ice, so I can’t—”
Fern burst through the door, a chocolate ice in her hand. “Oh Rose, I only had enough money in my bag for one ice, so I’m afraid—oh, hello, Mr. Carroway.”
“Good afternoon, Miss Fern,” he replied with a bow. “I was speaking to your sister, and perhaps I may help with this problem. Miss Rose,” he said, “may I buy you an ice?”
A hint of delight gleamed in Rose’s emerald eyes. “Of course,” she replied. “I prefer lemon.”
“Then I shall return momentarily.” He stepped into the store and ordered two ices with his heart fluttering wildly, one in vanilla and one in lemon. As the ices were prepared, he glanced out the window at the sisters. A frown crossed Rose’s face as she spoke to her twin, but eased when Fern rubbed Rose’s arms and drew her into a hug.
When he stepped back to the table, Fern had disappeared. “Where has your sister gone?” Alex asked as he placed the lemon ice in front of Rose and sat.
“She took her ice to the garden. She prefers to be alone with her books.” Rose said with a shrug, lifting of one shoulder in an act of unparalleled grace.
Rose was right about one thing—the ices were indeed the best he had ever tasted. They sat in silence as they ate, Rose worrying her lower lip as her glance darted to Alex.
“Are you from London originally?” Rose asked, fidgeting with her serviette.
“No,” Alex replied. “From Birmingham.”
