Rose in Bloom (Sex and the Season 2)

“I couldn’t impose.”

“It’s no imposition, Price. In fact, my sister is visiting. I’m sure you’ll enjoy her company.”

Lord. He was trying to play matchmaker. Yet Newland was his employer and it wouldn’t do to turn down his invitation.

“I’d be obliged, Newland. Are you far from here?”

“About a half hour in my carriage. Only a few blocks from your new place. You’ll be able to walk home from there.”

“All right. Shall we, then?”

Newland’s townhome was about three times the size of what Cameron had rented. “How long have you been here?” Cameron asked.

“About five years. Before that I lived in the house you’re renting. I stayed there many years after I could have afforded to move. I felt it necessary to watch my money carefully. I grew up poor, you see, and that’s a mentality that doesn’t go away overnight.”

“I understand what you mean,” Cameron said. “Has the other home been vacant for long?”

“About a month. The family renting it moved to Bristol.”

“I’m lucky it was available then.”

“Yes, sometimes timing is everything,” Newland agreed, handing his hat to his butler. “Ah, here comes Evelyn now. My dear, I’d like you to meet Mr. Cameron Price. He’s the new composer I was telling you about. Price, my sister, Miss Evelyn Newland.”

“It’s a pleasure, Miss Newland,” Cameron said, bowing.

“The pleasure is mine, sir.” Evelyn beamed. She was attractive, with auburn hair and dark brown eyes.

Although her stature was average, Cameron found himself thinking that she was too short. He was comparing her to Rose, of course, who was tall. It was his eternal damnation to compare every woman he met from now on to Rose, and he would do doubt find them all lacking. Perhaps he was meant to remain a bachelor forever.

“The chef has prepared his specialty tonight, coq au vin,” Evelyn continued. “I’m sure you’ll find it to your liking, Mr. Price.”

Cameron cleared his throat. Coq au vin? He guessed that was French. “I’m sure it will be excellent,” he said, hoping it wasn’t brains or stomach. The French were fond of eating strange things.

It turned out to be chicken cooked in red wine, and it was indeed delicious. It was served with buttered green beans, creamed vegetable marrow, and new potatoes with parsley. A fruit and cheese tray followed, and coconut cake for dessert. The Newlands were lively company, and Cameron smiled and laughed more than he had in a long time. When the last dessert plate was taken from the table, Newland stood.

“Would you care for a port, Pric

e?”

“Yes, of course.” He rose.

“If you two gentlemen will excuse me.” Evelyn stood and left the dining room.

“She’s pleasant,” Cameron said.

“Yes, Evie’s a great girl. Come, we’ll take our port in the smoking room.”

Newland led Cam to a lush room adorned in distinctly masculine decor.

“Do you hunt?” Cameron asked, noting the head of a stag mounted on the wall above the hearth.

“Heavens, no,” Newland said. “Where would I find the time? That’s just decoration. Hunting is a sport for the nobility.”

Cameron nodded. He should have known that. Determined not to make an idiot of himself again, he took a cigar when Newland offered his humidor, even though he had never smoked one in his life. He followed Newland’s lead, biting off the tip and taking small puffs as Newland lit it for him. The smoke tasted bitter in his mouth. He was wondering why men had any desire to suck on these tobacco sausages, when a bit of the smoke touched the back of his throat, sending him into a spasm of wheezy coughing.

“I say, Price, are you quite all right?” Newland asked.

“Yes, of course,” Cameron lied.