☆ ᴡᴀᴛᴛʏꜱ 2024 SHORTLISTER!! ☆
A tragic misunderstanding. A murder. A secret. An unlikely partnership. A spirited countess and an enterprising racketeer.
~~~
Manchester, England. May 1925.
The Roarin' 20s. An era of glamor, decadent parties, jazz mus...
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Teddy proved to be a wealth of information, though it came in the form of toddler verbiage that at times had to be deciphered.
As Rose assisted him in building a particularly lofty tower of blocks, he told her that he “missed his mumma,” but he wasn't “supposed” to be sad because she was “always in their hearts,” and he still “got hugs and kisses” from his father. Rose found this last bit hard to picture.
“Does your father play with you?” Rose asked. “Toys, and games, and such?”
“Sometimes,” Teddy answered.
He handed her a small cube and indicated that she should place it on top of the tower. She did so with great care, and Teddy smiled at the result of their efforts.
At that moment, Eleanor bustled into the room. “It's time for breakfast, Ted—” She startled when she saw Rose. “O—oh! Miss Rose! Beg your pardon. I didn't expect to find you in here.”
“I took a chance that the little master might be awake,” Rose said. “But I don't mean to intrude or interrupt the daily routine. I can show myself out.”
“There's no intrusion, Miss,” Eleanor assured her. “Would you like to join Teddy for breakfast?”
Teddy looked up at her with his large, innocent eyes. “Please, Miss Rose?”
Rose smiled down at his sweet face. “How could I say no?”
【♖】
Twenty minutes later, Rose was seated next to Teddy in the lavish, two-story dining hall. His dwarfed legs swung a foot above the floor as he sat upon the heavy wooden chair, happily indulging in a plate full of food.
“You don't want this?” Teddy asked. He held up his fork, the prongs of which were jabbed through more bacon than he could ever hope to fit into his tiny mouth.
Rose laughed and guided his fork back to his plate with a delicate touch to the stem. “No, none of that for me.”
Teddy blinked at her quizzically, like he couldn't quite decide what to make of her. “Why? It's good.”
“I believe you,” Rose said. “But I actually gave up pork in all its variations a little over a year ago.”
August hadn't asked her to do any such thing, but as a demonstration of her devotion to his family and their beliefs, she'd willingly retired her taste for pork, ham, and everything else associated with the consumption of pigs.
“I'm sorry, Miss Rose. I didn't realize,” Eleanor said. “Hope I didn't cause offense.”
“Not at all,” Rose assured her with a smile. “You couldn't have known. And I do love the smell. But I'll just have another slice of toast, if it's all the same.”
“Toast is dull,” Teddy informed her. “Unless there's jam.”
Rose and Eleanor shared a laugh at his matter-of-fact tone.
