Read Online One Perfect Rose by Mary Jo Putney - Free Book Online

“That we would. I quite enjoy chasing him about with my hairbrush when he’s impossible.” As Miranda in the play, she had been a stunner; as an affectionate sister, she was completely endearing.
    Flushing a little, Brian bowed and said very formally, “I am eternally indebted to you, sir. I recognize that my thoughtlessness endangered your life, and I give thanks that you took no permanent harm.”
    More than a little overwhelmed, Stephen was wondering what to say when Rosalind’s teasing voice interjected, “You’re embarrassing the poor man to death when surely what he wants most is his breakfast. A cup of tea, Mr. Ashe?”
    Gratefully he moved around her effusive family and accepted the steaming cup Rosalind held out. After a bracing swallow, he said, “Truly, you make too much of what I did. I’m glad to have been of service. Let us speak no more about it.”
    But the Fitzgeralds were not ready to drop the subject of the rescue. As Stephen served himself modest amounts of toast and coddled eggs and took a seat by Rosalind, the family began to relive the previous day’s adventure. Every reaction of shock, horror, and relief was detailed with flare and gusto.
    Though self-conscious about his prominent role in the drama, Stephen was also fascinated. A scene more different from his own childhood meals would be hard to imagine. The Fitzgeralds were a family , not merely a collection of people connected by blood and fortune. Every member was secure in the knowledge of being loved and accepted; in return, they rendered respect and affection to the others.
    The only person who didn’t join in the cheerful babble was Rosalind. Quietly she made sure everyone was well served, even the dog. Stephen sensed that if each Fitzgerald had a role in the family, she was the bright, still center.
    He also received other, more subtle impressions, like the faint scent of rosewater that perfumed the air when she turned her head. And the almost inaudible rustle of her skirts when she got up to ring for a fresh pot of tea. Though he tried not to look at her, he could not recollect when he had been so acutely aware of a woman’s presence.
    When Rosalind returned to her seat, she paused a moment to examine the wound on his head. The touch of her fingertips when she brushed back his hair was subtly erotic. “This is healing well, Mr. Ashe,” she remarked, “but you look rather drawn. I hope you’ll stay in Redminster at least another day. Travel might aggravate your injury.”
    â€œThe name is Stephen, if you’ll recall. And yes, I intend to stay at least until tomorrow.”
    She smiled with a warmth that struck to his heart. “Very good, Stephen.”
    â€œYou are my guest for as long as you are at the Three Crowns,” Thomas said emphatically. “Feel free to fill a hip bath with champagne if you wish.”
    Stephen felt a twinge of guilt at accepting the hospitality of a man who could probably ill afford it when he himself could buy the inn from pocket change. But he must allow the older man to express his gratitude. He had learned that from observing the effects of his father’s sometimes oppressive charity. “That would be a criminal waste of champagne. Perhaps later I shall order drinks for everyone in the taproom instead.”
    â€œBy all means,” the older man said. “I shall take the opportunity to propose a toast to your long life and good health.”
    The words brought a sharp jolt of reality. No toast would provide Stephen with either life or health. Appetite gone, he got to his feet. “I think I’ll go to the stables to see how Jupiter is faring.”
    â€œI’ll go with you,” Brian volunteered.
    â€œYou have lessons to do, young man,” his mother said firmly. “And Thomas, you and Jessica are due at the theater for rehearsal. Rose, why don’t you take Mr. Ashe to the stables, then bring