Rose in Bloom (Sex and the Season #2)(53)

“Now, what on earth is going on?”

Rose’s sobs came in large gulps. “I…need to talk to someone,” she wept. “Usually it’s Lily I talk to, but she’s not here. And now… Oh, I don’t know what to do!”

“Goodness.”

Lucy rose and came back with a large handkerchief and a moist cloth. She gently wiped Rose’s face, which only made Rose cry harder as she remembered wiping Cameron’s face.

“There, there now. You can talk to me. Or if you’d rather, I’ll get your aunt or one of your cousins.”

“No, that’s not necessary,” Rose said. “In fact, I think you might be the perfect person to talk to.”

“I’ll help in any way I can.” Lucy swept the handkerchief over Rose’s nose again.

A knock on the door brought the tea tray.

“You take it sweet, don’t you?”

“Yes, just slightly.” Rose sniffled.

Lucy prepared the tea. “Here you are.” As she prepared another cup for herself, she said, “What in the world has you so upset?”

“I’m not sure where to begin,” Rose said.

“At the beginning, of course.”

“I…I’ve fallen in love, Aunt Lucy.”

“With Lord Evan?”

“No. It’s not Evan. I only wish it were. Life would be so much simpler that way.”

Lucy smiled. “Love is rarely simple. Believe me, I know.”

Rose cleared her throat and blew her nose noisily into the handkerchief. “I…I don’t want to pry, but Auntie Iris once told me that you were in love once, with a Scottish sailor.”

“He was Irish, actually. And yes, I was deeply in love with him.”

“How did you meet him?”

“I was not but seventeen. He was on shore leave and was visiting his aunt and uncle, who happened to live in the townhome next door to ours in London. Oh, he was splendid. He had a shock of thick red hair and a chiseled face that sculptors would envy. We took to each other right away. He had a month of leave, and we spent nearly every day together.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Oh, it was. Of course, my parents weren’t thrilled with the match. Our family wasn’t part of the nobility, you know. My father was a self-made man, a successful businessman with interests here and abroad. He had helped manage the estates of many aristocrats and his advice was quite sought after. He had high hopes that his daughters would marry into the peerage. And of course, Maggie did.”

“What exactly happened to your— What was his name?”

“Nolan. Nolan O’Brien.” Aunt Lucy smiled. “He and I became betrothed, much to my father’s chagrin. Nolan went back to sea, and he and I wrote each other every day.” Lucy rose, walked into a different room, and returned with a cluster of letters bound with red ribbon. The parchment was withered and browned with age. “I kept every letter he ever wrote me. I still read them sometimes.” She sighed. “Anyway, several months later, I had just turned eighteen, I got word that he had been lost at sea.” A tear glistened in the corner of Lucy’s eye.

“How sad. I’m so sorry, Aunt Lucy.”

“Well, it was near thirty-five years ago.”

“Why didn’t you ever marry? Surely a woman as beautiful as you must have had other offers.”

“I had a few in my day. About a month after Nolan died, Maggie became betrothed to the duke. They were married a week later, and I had no wish to stay at my father’s house, knowing how he had felt about Nolan, so Maggie was kind enough to bring me here. The first few years, when Maggie’s boys were young, she and the duke hosted many galas and house parties. I met a young earl who was quite taken with me, and I with him. And though I thought to marry him, in the end, I couldn’t. My feelings for him just didn’t match what I had felt for Nolan. Several years later, I was courted by a widowed viscount. He was also a very nice gentleman and I cared for him deeply, but I didn’t love him.” Lucy closed her eyes. “I suppose it was silly, looking back. I could have had a happy life with either one of them, and I truly would have loved to have children.”

“Why didn’t you try?”

“I just wasn’t willing to settle for less than what I felt for Nolan.”

“I understand,” Rose said. “I really do.”

“I’ve had a full life,” Lucy said. “Maggie and the duke treated me as one of the family, and I had a great relationship with Daniel and Morgan. They were almost like my own children.”

Rose smiled at the lovely woman sitting next to her. At fifty-two, Lucinda Landon was still beautiful, with pale blond hair slowly turning to white and sparkling green eyes. She had a nurturing nature that was unequaled. For an instant, Rose imagined herself thirty years from now, in Lucy’s place, living with Lily and Daniel as spinster Auntie Rose, forever pining for her one true love.

Of course, one giant difference glared between the two situations. Nolan hadn’t wanted to leave Lucy. He had died. Cameron left Rose intentionally. She would never have a bundle of love letters to give her comfort.

“Goodness.” Lucy embraced her. “Do you want to tell me what is going on?”

“Yes, yes,” Rose wept. “I need to tell someone.” She blew her nose again. “You must keep my confidence though.”