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“Are you alright? What are you two up to?” she demanded.
“Simply admiring the water, Miss McCloude. Quite lovely property your family has,” William said smoothly.
“Rosemary, your dress is a mess! I cannot believe you would roll down this hill!”
My attention found William and I burst into laughter. Greta stomped her foot, heading back toward her home in frustration.
“Oh, Greta, don’t be so sour, dear!” I called after her, sitting up. William laughed quietly, standing to offer me his hand in a gesture of help. I took it, coming on to my feet and taking in the extent of the damage done to my dress. Lightness tickled my chest, and I swatted the patches of wet mud, the chunks of dead grass from the fabric of my skirt.
I shook my head at how little good it did, “Mary is going to have my head for this,” I said. He chuckled, his arm coming around mine to begin the trek back up the hill together.
“Have you worked with Mr. McCloude long?” I asked, desperate for something to take my mind off of the way his touch felt. A sizzling flame licking over my skin, warming me from head to foot.
“No, this was a recent business arrangement. I mostly stick to New York and London company if I can, but I came to Boston on the recommendation of a close friend of mine.”
“Are you enjoying life in Boston?”
“It is lovely, less of the hustle and bustle of New York. I have been finding some great connections here as well.”
“Have you been in the business long?” I pressed, fishing for more information about this mysterious man.
“Yes,” he laughed lightly, “very long in fact. Longer than you might expect.” We came over the crest of the hill to a very red Mr. McCloude, and a weepy Greta. William snatched his arm away from mine, straightening his coat and hat. A coldness set in between us.
“I am sorry to cut our visit short—” Mr. McCloude started.
“Ah yes, I need to be off. I am most grateful to you and your wife for your hospitality. I shall fetch my horse and be of no more trouble.” William bowed and sauntered off toward the stables. Mr. McCloude sighed through his nose.
“Miss Abbott, your carriage is out front, shall I escort you?” he asked.
“No sir, I know the way. Good day.” I left toward the front of the estate, my feet squelching in the damp earth. William’s figure disappeared inside the stables in the distance.
The excitement and pleasure we had felt by that pond together was wounded by his coldness in the presence of Mr. McCloude and I desperately wished to go back to that moment on the grass with him.
I climbed into the carriage, pulling the door to before Mr. McCloude wretched it open. His features were grave, a crease between his bushy brows. I stilled at his sight, knowing full well that he was going to give me a verbal lashing. My heart jumped into my throat.
“I can assure you, Rosemary, that what you are doing is unacceptable and there will be consequences. Leave Greta and William alone. I mean it,” he warned, his plump old face reddening with each word. I giggled, purely from shock, but dug my heels into the ground.
“Good day, Mr. McCloude,” I said, venom dripping from every word. I pulled the door shut, and beckoned for Samuel to take off.
As we rounded the corner onto the main road, the sound of galloping hooves neared. From the window, I watched William ride by.
He didn’t even bother a glance my way.
When we made it to our estate, I could see the figure of my mother at the door with her hands on her hips. Cursing under my breath, I climbed from the car to face her wrath. She gasped when she saw my dress, quickly running inside to call for Mary.
In my bedroom, as she and Mary fussed around me, tugging off the ruined dress, Mother gripped my jaw tightly.
“What did you do?” Her eyes were hard as steel.
“I just walked with them,” I muttered, shaking her loose.
“Rose, this is getting ridiculous. If Mr. McCloude loses his patience, it won’t go well,”
“He already has,” I said flatly, taking the rag from Mary and cleaning my bare arms.
“What do you mean?”
“He threatened me as I left, said there would be consequences for my actions.” I stepped into a day dress, pulling the sleeves on, the fabric scratching against my skin. Mother stood dumbfounded.
