Love & Reputation (HC #3.5)

3: Wallflowers in Bloom

UPDATE 13/10/24: This chapter has had another 1500 words added to it - please read for more backstory!!! 

She was barely in the hallway before Greer looped her arm through Rosemary's and pulled them into step together.

"Well..."

Rose could hear the smile in her friend's voice without having to look, yet she did anyway, her own lips curling at the grin the woman levelled at her.

"What an interesting evening this has become!" Greer continued, glancing down the corridor. "And here I thought I'd spend the night as a wallflower in the ballroom without any intrigue at all!"

Her friend huffed a laugh. She hardly considered her conversation with Alex 'intrigue', but there was more to take offence at.

"I doubt any here consider you a wallflower, Greer."

The woman shrugged, the sleeve of her gown sliding against Rosemary's with the movement. "A spinster then."

At that, Rosemary could not help but roll her eyes. "Oh hush, Greer! You're not yet five and twenty!"

"And yet still firmly on the shelf." There was neither regret nor self-pity in her tone, only grim acknowledgement.

Rose would not stand for it.

"Well then I – at the grand old age of seven and twenty – will surely join you!"

She might have expected a smile from her friend, perhaps a laugh, but instead she received a rather odd, taut look. It faded away almost instantly as a gentleman passed them by, nodding amiably, and then when they were alone once more it returned. Her mouth was drawn into a straight line, her lips thinning and pale, and her frown was so heavy that her eyebrows almost met in the middle. Seriousness was not uncharacteristic for Lady Greer Evlington but this level of graveness was alarming.

"Rosemary, may I speak candidly with you?"

If Rose was not so unnerved, she night have been a little offended that she had asked. "Always, Greer."

"It's just that I intend to be particularly candid," she said, sliding her arm out from Rosemary's with the caution of a woman who feared she might be thrown off, "and I'm afraid you may not enjoy what I intend to say."

"Well..." Rose spotted a settee over Greer's shoulder, and took her hand, leading her over to the lounge and settling firmly at one end. "Consider me forewarned," she said with a firm nod.

Greer watched her for a short moment, her grey eyes seeming to scour Rose's face, before slowly taking the seat beside her. In this position, they were both granted a sweeping view of the hallway and, importantly, anyone who might overhear them. When she was certain the corridor was empty, Greer set her hands firmly in her lap.

"Forgive me, Rosemary, but there will never come a time when you are considered 'on the shelf'. Not by your friends, not by you mama, and most certainly not by the Ton." Greer spoke quickly but evenly, only her pinched smile betraying her. "I do not say this to offend you, only because I have just had the startling realisation that perhaps you are the only person who does not know."

In the silence that followed, broken only by the string quartet resuming a brisk melody, Rosemary blinked. If Greer were a woman more prone to fancy – such as Rose's younger sister Victoria – she might have laughed in her face. And the suggestion was laughable, she assured herself; she was seven and twenty years, she was widowed, and – perhaps most importantly – she had made every effort to stay as far from the marriage mart as she possibly could! It was nonsensical!

She raised one gloved hand, setting it lightly on her friend's forearm. "Greer, I –"

The other woman sighed. "I knew you would not care to be told."