“Isn’t he seeing somebody?” Alex held the door for me as we headed outside. “I could swear Spencer told me Steven was going out with—bloody hell, who was it?”
I had no idea.
“Annabelle Fortescue!”
“Ugh!” I shuddered. “Why is he seeing her?”
He shrugged. “She’s good in bed.”
“Alexander!” I slapped his shoulder. “I don’t want to know that.”
He chuckled. “You asked. At least she was when I was eighteen. Can’t imagine she’s gotten worse.”
“Oh, that’s enough.” I was going to have to bleach my flipping ears now. “I was hoping you’d say it was for philanthropic purposes. Hell, I’d take a PR relationship over whatever else it is you think.”
His laughter continued as we walked through the garden. “Show me what you’ve been working on. How’s the rose garden?”
“How do you know about the rose garden?”
“I used to cut them with scissors and give them to my mum.”
I stifled a laugh. I did, too. “How did I never know?”
“Because Margaret let me,” he replied, referring to our old gardener. “I used to bring her her favourite hard-boiled sweets in exchange for a few roses every time we visited.”
“Rude. She used to chase me out with her garden hoe every time she caught me in there!” I ducked under the archway that was filled with rose buds ready to bloom and fill the pathway with their gorgeous, sweet scent. “Mind you, I’m allowed to cut some roses now, and the current gardener chases me off anyway. Or he would if he had a hoe to hand.”
“What are you doing to him?”
“Nothing. Why does everyone assume it’s always my fault? Could it not be that he’s simply grumpy and rude?” I sniffed. “I am a delight, thank you very much.”
“Going around calling people grumpy and rude isn’t a delight.”
“I wouldn’t have to call people grumpy and rude if they weren’t grumpy and rude.”
“Fair point.” He stepped ahead of me and opened the gate, motioning for me to go ahead first.
I sighed.
Why couldn’t all men be more like my cousin?
You know.
Polite.
The rose garden was one of my favorite places. It straddled the line between private and public—the roses bloomed in two separate flushes, with the second almost always being bigger and brighter and better than the first. We kept the path to it closed during the first flush so we could enjoy them ourselves, then opened it during the second.
The rose garden was a labour of love for the Hastings family. For four generations, we’d planted roses that meant something to us. Each one was named after a departed member of our family, and after a few years of searching for the right one, I’d finally found the one to plant to commemorate Uncle Arthur.
Alexander had no idea.
He took a deep breath as the sweet scents of the first flush of the endless bushes here swirled around us. “I love this place. I need one at Bentley Manor. We just have a pretty sad looking climbing one leading to the koi pond.”
I grinned at him. “Convince Daddy to let me fully go to school for horticulture and I’ll create you one.”
“Done and done.”
Laughing, I traced the path toward the Arthur Bell rose. “No way. He’ll never agree. I fear I’ll have to bargain with him.”
“If he lets you get the qualifications you want you have to marry a future king?”
“Please don’t give him ideas. Besides, he’s already taken.” I stopped in front of the Arthur Bell rose that was wildly blooming with flowers in various shades of yellow. “Here.”
He gazed at it. “Is this new? I don’t remember seeing it.”
“Yes. I planted it last year and it didn’t bloom, so this is its first season.”
“It’s beautiful, and it smells amazing. What is it?”
I smiled. “Arthur Bell.”
Alexander started, jerking around to look at me. “Gabi…”
“Look.” I kneeled, moving my dress away from my knees so it didn’t get dirty in the gravel that surrounded the paving slabs. “These lighter ones are the newest blooms, and these brighter ones are the oldest ones. As the flowers age, they get brighter.”
“A bit like Dad did through the day. Started off miserable, went to bed happy. Although I suppose these roses aren’t having two glasses of brandy to brighten their mood.”
“Exactly.” I laughed quietly, cupping one gently so the thorns didn’t get me. “If you’d like, I can take a cutting and propagate it for you so you can have one.”
He rested his hand on my shoulder. “I would like that very much. Thank you.”
I stood and hugged him. “Of course. He was our family, too.”
Alex hugged me tightly before releasing me. “Well.” He blinked as if he were trying to ward off tears, then clapped his hands. “Shall we go back inside? I should make sure Aunt Cat has called Mum and told her I won’t be home tonight.”
“Of course.” I led him out of the rose garden and bumped into something tall and hard. “Oof!”