“But why would Rose stay here when she has an entire life in England.” Something pulled at his chest, like the admission of his fear took all the oxygen from his lungs with it and left him empty.
“Would you be willing to go back with her?”
He stilled. The notion of returning to her home, of rubbing elbows with English aristos, people even more concerned with wealth and bloodlines than Americans… Ben shook his head. “No, I couldn’t live there. I have to stay here. There’s work to be done.”
“There will always be work to be done, no matter where you are.” Garrett leaned back against the wall once more and crossed his arms over his chest. “And there will always be people to do it. But will there be another Rose in your life?”
He never expected to be in this position again. Falling in love with Aiko was like slipping into a warm bath, comfortable and easy. Rose had meant fireworks, explosions that knocked him off course, leaving him temporarily blind and deaf but utterly enchanted. Neither was wrong nor right, and both changed him.
“There won’t be another Rose.” Peace spread through him, a contentment he hadn’t realized had been missing for so long. “I want to marry her as soon as possible.”
Garrett grinned and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “It took you long enough to get there. Quite a few people lost money because your head was so far up your own ass.”
“What do you mean?” Despite his best efforts, it was impossible to be cross when he was in love.
“Colleen had a betting book at the Pearl about when you’d finally admit you love her. I was sure it would take at least another week, stubborn mule that you are.” His brows furrowed in thought, then he released a heavy sigh. “Christ, I think Abby won the pot. She’ll be insufferable.”
Before he could respond, movement caught his eye. As though he had summoned her with his thoughts, Ben blinked to see Rose turning the corner onto Park Avenue, her expression brightening the moment their eyes connected. Was he dreaming? How could this beautiful, impossible woman be his, and here? Rose picked up her pace as Ben stood frozen to the spot.
He couldn’t resist throwing his arms around her when she reached him, and she pressed her face into the crook of his neck and held for a beat before pushing back.
“Rosie, what are you doing here?”
The emerald depths of her eyes were glistening and her cheeks pink as she lifted a basket he recognized as being Abby’s. “I brought you lunch. I thought you might be hungry, and—”
Ben grabbed the basket and handed it to Garrett, then wrapped her in his embrace. “I am hungry. Thank you for thinking of me.”
He could feel her smile against his neck, and she placed a quick kiss on his jaw. “Good, because Abby packed enough food to feed the entire neighborhood.”
“Then let’s take a picnic.” Forget about Mr. Peale; Ben only needed Rose. Perhaps he could find a jeweler and barter for a ring. Or Garrett could wait for Linden while Ben went to the bank and withdrew on his trust. Then he could be at Tiffany’s—
“Ben,” Garrett called from behind him, but Ben ignored him, instead taking Rose’s hands in his.
Her smile was wide, dazzling. “I’d like that.”
“Ben,” Garrett repeated more forcefully. “It’s Peale, and he’s with Linden.”
Ben whirled around to see the two politicians, flanked by aides, descending the stairs onto the sidewalk. Garrett approached Peale without hesitation, but Linden and his entourage turned Ben’s way, heading south on Park. Ben squeezed Rose’s hands, and she nodded, giving him silent permission. He stepped forward into the politician’s path. “Mr. Linden, I’m Benjamin North and I have written you several times regarding—”
A younger blonde man angled between them, outstretching a slim arm to prevent Ben from advancing. “Out of the way, chink,” he grumbled.
The slur tossed so carelessly at Ben struck him like a blow. Reeling, he stumbled back and knocked into Rose. She gasped as she regained her footing, and Ben reached to stabilize her, even as his pulse raced.
Ben had heard the racist term for Chinese immigrants thrown in his direction before, but having Rose hear the word made him sick, bile burning in the back of his throat. Such ugliness, such hatred had no place in her world, and he had sullied her simply by existing. Shame burned his cheeks, and he wanted to turn away, to shield himself from the pity he would find on her face.
But Rose had frozen in place, her eyes wide as she stared at the offender. The blonde man stood gaping, swallowing hard before speaking. “Miss Stonecroft, what are you—” His features twisted into an ugly grimace as he saw Ben’s hands on her arm at the same moment Ben realized who this man must be.
Ruffgate’s eyes flashed as he loomed towards Ben and reached for Rose. “Get your filthy hands off of her, you—”
The next moment passed in a blur; red edged into Ben’s vision as Ruffgate’s hand clamped down on Rose’s forearm and pulled her forward, wrenching her out of his grip. Rose cried out, the sound piercing through the rushing of blood in his ears, and he was moving, moving without thinking to protect her, to keep her safe. An animalistic growl escaped his throat as he lunged towards Ruffgate and knocked him to the ground, the force of his momentum sending Ben onto the pavement beside him. Shocks of pain tore down his shoulder and into the palms of his hands as they scoured across the sidewalk. Distantly, he registered shrill whistles, men shouting and hands pulling at his arms and coat.
How long he thrashed on the ground, Ben didn’t know, but when he raised his head to look for Rose, he only saw the dual rows of gleaming buttons, the flashing badge and domed caps of the police officers hauling him to his feet. They held him in place for one weightless moment, his right eye already swelling shut, but not so much that he missed how they were keeping him still to give Ruffgate a go at him.
Ben got a sick satisfaction from seeing the Ruffgate’s split lip, his hair in wild disarray and jacket torn. But the satisfaction turned to nausea when Ruffgate’s fist collided with Ben’s gut, once, twice, and a third time, before he spat in Ben’s face. He looked around, but couldn’t see Rose or Garrett, and sent up a silent prayer that they were together and running far from this place.
With his gaze averted, he missed Ruffgate pulling back his fist for one parting shot, one that collided with Ben’s eye and turned his world black.
Chapter 31
