Read Online Rose (Flower Trilogy) by Lauren Royal - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lauren Royal
Ads: Link
He’d attached countless strips of decorative molding, polished all the oak paneling, stripped off the tarpaulins and polished the new floor, too.
All in hopes of charming the King’s eye.
He’d passed.
Dropping onto a fresh stack of wood and using it as a chair, he flipped blindly through a book of architectural renderings. He should go home; he was exhausted and needed to check in with his sister. Ellen had a habit of finding trouble when he wasn’t around.
The drawings before him blurred. He’d passed. All was not lost.
When the double doors reopened, his heart seized as he wondered wildly whether the King had some complaint, after all. He sagged with relief when two women entered instead. Then sat straight when he recognized them.
Rose and her mother, both dressed in bright, cheerful colors. Surely a sight for tired eyes.
“Oh!” Lady Trentingham exclaimed, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
He wouldn’t wager on that.
“I just wanted to show Rose this beautiful chamber,” she added.
Kit shut his book. “I was about to leave anyway. ’Tis time I went home.”
“Home? Surely you’re not finished here. It looks wonderful, but—”
“ ’Tis stunning, Mum! Even better than you described.”
Rose gazed up at the ceiling. “Beauty and whimsy all rolled into one. I am not overly fond of the decoration here at Windsor. Overdone, if you ask me. But this room does not take itself as seriously as the others.”
“Thank you,” Kit said. Relishing the admiration in her voice, he watched her wander the chamber, touching a carved panel, the white marble mantel, a bit of grooved wainscoting. Smiling, he turned to her mother. “The project is well in hand for the moment; I’m not abandoning it, I assure you. I live right here in Windsor. Not a ten-minute walk.”
“Is that so? I imagine your home must be lovely.”
He knew a hint when he heard one. “Would you like to see it?”
“Mum, I don’t think—”
“We’d love to,” Lady Trentingham cut in. “Were you not just saying, dear, how tedious it is here in the daytime?”
Kit led them on an easy walk from the castle down the hill to the Thames. Rose decided it felt good to be out in the fresh air. And there truly was nothing to do at Windsor Castle in the daytime . . . with the exception of the palace staff, it seemed everyone was still abed, sleeping off the excesses of the night before.
When Rose had hit her pillow after midnight, Court had still been in full swing. She would have to adjust her country hours, perhaps take a nap early this evening before Court got under way. They had just been setting up gaming tables when she left, and although she’d never gambled, she imagined it was much fun. Perhaps she could win enough money for a new gown.
The curved, steep street followed the castle wall. Across the road, townspeople went about their business, entering and exiting rows of gabled shops with living accommodations above. Women carried baskets over their arms, gathering purchases as children and dogs played tag in the cobbled street.
No dirt road here, in this bustling town where the King kept a household.
“Look,” she said as they reached the bottom of the hill.
“A bookshop.”
“John Young, Bookseller,” Mum read off the old, cracked wooden sign.
Rose was always looking for new books to help practice her skills. “I wonder if they might have any books written in foreign languages.”
“Oh, yes,” Kit put in. “I found this there.” He raised the book tucked under his arm. “ ’Tis Latin.”
“You read Latin?”
“Hell, no,” he said, not surprising her. He hadn’t understood her family’s Latin motto, after all. “I bought it to study the drawings.” He flipped open the book and held it up as they walked. “See? Classical architecture.”
“But there are words,” Mum pointed out. “Explanations.”
“True.” He sighed and closed the cover. “I believe, actually,
All in hopes of charming the King’s eye.
He’d passed.
Dropping onto a fresh stack of wood and using it as a chair, he flipped blindly through a book of architectural renderings. He should go home; he was exhausted and needed to check in with his sister. Ellen had a habit of finding trouble when he wasn’t around.
The drawings before him blurred. He’d passed. All was not lost.
When the double doors reopened, his heart seized as he wondered wildly whether the King had some complaint, after all. He sagged with relief when two women entered instead. Then sat straight when he recognized them.
Rose and her mother, both dressed in bright, cheerful colors. Surely a sight for tired eyes.
“Oh!” Lady Trentingham exclaimed, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
He wouldn’t wager on that.
“I just wanted to show Rose this beautiful chamber,” she added.
Kit shut his book. “I was about to leave anyway. ’Tis time I went home.”
“Home? Surely you’re not finished here. It looks wonderful, but—”
“ ’Tis stunning, Mum! Even better than you described.”
Rose gazed up at the ceiling. “Beauty and whimsy all rolled into one. I am not overly fond of the decoration here at Windsor. Overdone, if you ask me. But this room does not take itself as seriously as the others.”
“Thank you,” Kit said. Relishing the admiration in her voice, he watched her wander the chamber, touching a carved panel, the white marble mantel, a bit of grooved wainscoting. Smiling, he turned to her mother. “The project is well in hand for the moment; I’m not abandoning it, I assure you. I live right here in Windsor. Not a ten-minute walk.”
“Is that so? I imagine your home must be lovely.”
He knew a hint when he heard one. “Would you like to see it?”
“Mum, I don’t think—”
“We’d love to,” Lady Trentingham cut in. “Were you not just saying, dear, how tedious it is here in the daytime?”
Kit led them on an easy walk from the castle down the hill to the Thames. Rose decided it felt good to be out in the fresh air. And there truly was nothing to do at Windsor Castle in the daytime . . . with the exception of the palace staff, it seemed everyone was still abed, sleeping off the excesses of the night before.
When Rose had hit her pillow after midnight, Court had still been in full swing. She would have to adjust her country hours, perhaps take a nap early this evening before Court got under way. They had just been setting up gaming tables when she left, and although she’d never gambled, she imagined it was much fun. Perhaps she could win enough money for a new gown.
The curved, steep street followed the castle wall. Across the road, townspeople went about their business, entering and exiting rows of gabled shops with living accommodations above. Women carried baskets over their arms, gathering purchases as children and dogs played tag in the cobbled street.
No dirt road here, in this bustling town where the King kept a household.
“Look,” she said as they reached the bottom of the hill.
“A bookshop.”
“John Young, Bookseller,” Mum read off the old, cracked wooden sign.
Rose was always looking for new books to help practice her skills. “I wonder if they might have any books written in foreign languages.”
“Oh, yes,” Kit put in. “I found this there.” He raised the book tucked under his arm. “ ’Tis Latin.”
“You read Latin?”
“Hell, no,” he said, not surprising her. He hadn’t understood her family’s Latin motto, after all. “I bought it to study the drawings.” He flipped open the book and held it up as they walked. “See? Classical architecture.”
“But there are words,” Mum pointed out. “Explanations.”
“True.” He sighed and closed the cover. “I believe, actually,
Similar Books
