Cass opened her mouth to respond, but Ben cut her off. “No,wewon’t. There isn’t space, and we don’t know her.”
“She’s my cousin, Ben!”
“But she knows your father, and if—”
“I have no way of contacting my uncle.” Rose’s voice was surprisingly firm, and he recoiled somewhat as he reassessed his initial impression of her as a hapless fool. “I promise, I have no nefarious purpose in being here.”
“I know, Rose,” Abby said, glaring at Ben. “Ben is just protective.”
Rose tilted her head. “Why do you need protection?”
Abby stood and walked into the kitchen, tossing her remarks over her shoulder. “This is a story best told over tea and fresh cookies.
Chapter 3
“Moretea?”
Etiquette dictated Rose accept, but her stomach roiled so violently she worried she would lose its contents if she took another sip. She shouldn’t be here, in New York or in this neighborhood. She had neither money nor a sense of how to get back to the docks, let alone to Boston. What had she done?
With a shake of her head, Rose gave Cass a small smile. She was beyond horrified when she realized the woman was not a servant, but Abby’s friend. The woman’s dislike for Rose was palpable, and by the set of her shoulders and slight curling of her full upper lip, Rose’s refusal of a refill did not sit well.
Ben—apparently the name of her semi-rescuer who now refused to speak directly to her—leaned in the kitchen’s doorframe, his nonchalant pose at odds with the tension set in his features. And Rose couldn’t help but stare at him; she’d never seen such a face before. Sleek hair blacker than coal swept low over his broad brow, high cheekbones sharp enough to cast shadows on his cheeks sloped from his coffee-colored eyes framed with thick black lashes. The burnished gold of his skin spoke of hours spent in the sun, and his full lips twisted in a grimace, so unwelcoming she had to hide the shiver running up her spine each time she looked his way. Smile lines bracketed his mouth and fanned out from the corners of his eyes. But she wondered how he’d gotten them, as she doubted this man did much other than glower. He continued rolling that coin over his knuckles, the gesture unsettling her more with each pass.
“Why are you here?” Abby asked as she set down her teacup and passed Rose a biscuit.
Cookie. She said a mental thank you to the woman from the ship and her American English lessons.
She smoothed the wrinkles in her skirt. “My family has experienced some difficulties of late. Financially, and socially.” How gauche to discuss money. Surely Abby was cultured enough to let the topic rest—
“So why did you come to New York and not Boston?”
Rose couldn’t tell her cousin the truth about her desire to forget how quickly her life was crumbling in England. If she didn’t reclaim some of her social celebrity here, she would have to accept she was a social failure. Then what would she be? “My mother and father have insisted I go to Boston and see Fern. To make amends with her after the… unpleasantness. I’ve been distracted during the last few seasons and could not find a suitable husband.”
Unwillingwas a more apt descriptor. Not joining herself in marriage with another person was of a relief, in part. But having the scandal sheets call out her failure, to face the whispers in ballrooms and the appraising eyes raking over her outdated clothing before turning their shoulders away from her.
If she was not a society darling, perhaps she had no value to anyone.
“But why are you in New York, and not Boston?”
Rose took in a stabilizing breath. “I made the arrangements without my parents knowing this would be my destination. I hoped we could reconnect.” She hesitated, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I missed you.” Again, not an entirely accurate statement. Rose missed the connection she shared with her twin, having spent two years feeling as though a piece of her soul had been torn out. No one in England seemed to understand how much Fern’s absence hurt; even her family had come around to be thrilled for Fern and her success in America. Rose’s heart did not seem to need caretaking.
“I heard a bit about what happened between you,” Abby said, and the unpleasant heat crept up Rose’s neck. “I’m surprised you haven’t forgiven her yet—”
“I won’t forgive her.” Rose was not accustomed to sitting in uncomfortable silence, let alone causing it, but for a moment she relished being the source of discomfort, in not soothing the social disruption around her. “Perhaps I will, but I’m not ready yet.” She took a slow sip of her lukewarm tea and winced at the bitterness consuming her. “And I take it you are not getting on with your family?”
Abby huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Far from it. They cast me out six months ago, after they—”
“Abby, stop.” Cass’s words came out like a low growl of warning from a cornered animal.
“There’s no point in keeping the secret if she’s staying here.”
“Who says she’s staying here?” Ben asked from the doorway.
Rose cut him a glare, then returned her gaze to Abby. “You can tell me.”
The electric light over the table flared and then popped out. Rose jumped, but Abby waved away her concern. “It’s only Harvey, the ghost. You’ll get used to it.”
“Ghost?”
