Suitably Yours (HIDDEN GEMS HISTORICAL ROMANCE #1) by M. Culler EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: M. Culler
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
“Rose! Rose, you come out of that garden this very instant!”
Rose turned towards the sound of her mother’s hectoring voice.
“I’m only pruning the roses, Mama.”
“A task that is only suitable on days when we are not receiving
company. ‘Tis unfortunate enough that your father’s means are so small as
to afford us few staff without Captain Bryce believing our daughters have to
work like common scullery maids.”
Rose flinched as her mother seized her hand and promptly threw it back
with enough force to knock the basket of flowers off her other arm.
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“Mother! You’ll spoil the look of them.”
“As if the look of a few flowers matters more than the look of your
hands, Rose. They’re horribly stained!” Her mother sighed and pinched the
crease between her brows. “I believe it is your father’s folly. He would
insist on giving his daughters such lyrical but impractical names.”
“Papa thought they were charming names,” Rose defended her father—
a quiet member of the Surrey landed gentry and a respected amateur
botanist.
Her mother didn’t hear her, fretting away under her breath, “Rose for
the eldest, Ivy for the middle, and Lily for the third.” Mrs. Lycombe shook
her head and fixed a pointed gaze on her eldest daughter. “At least your
younger sisters are sensible and attend more to their elocution and
deportment than the garden. They are sensible of the fact that they are not
actually garden plants! But, no, rain or shine, you will be out pruning and
plucking, muddying your shoes and hems, coarsening your hands.” Mrs.
Lycombe gathered her skirts in agitation before smoothing them forcefully.
“And here you are, tarrying among the flowers still when your only suitor
of any true means approaches! Captain Bryce sees enough men with dirty
hands in the regiment, I daresay. He won’t want a wife who reminds him of
his work.” Her mother’s voice modulated, and she repeated her favorite
maxim, “A wife must be a gentle, helpful solace for her husband.”
“Yes, Mama. So you’ve often said.”
The soft voice vanished, and Mrs. Lycombe thundered, “Then, go! Into
the house at once and make yourself suitable!”
Rose bit her lip to keep her vexation in. “Yes, Mama.”
That was all she ever dared to say.
She could have pointed out that it was her mother who had told her to
arrange flowers cunningly so that Captain Bryce would comment on them.
Rose could have pointed out that her mother’s request necessitated fetching
flowers from the garden and that she had to be the one to get them since the
gardener only came on Wednesdays, and it was Friday. She could have
pointed out that Lily was too young to handle secateurs, Ivy too vain to
touch anything remotely dirty, and Charles, her younger brother and the
only son of the house, was not due home from his final term at Harrow for
another two weeks.
But Rose didn’t do any of those things. Her father had adopted a
willow-like disposition in the face of his wife’s tempestuous moods, and
Rose had found it wise to follow his example. Forcing a smile, Rose
followed her mother into the house.
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