Page 53 of The Queen of Roses

“That is your concern, not mine,” he said. “Someone needs to earn the money that keeps you in Worth dresses.”

The barb stung because, while it was true that she sent to Paris for her wardrobe, she would have been perfectly content to have at least her day dresses from the local dressmaker. It was at Guy’s insistence that his wife should be the most beautifully outfitted woman in Pasadena, no matter the expense.

“Will you at least promise me that you will be home by seven o’clock? Mama and Papa will be joining us for supper,” she said.

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, but conceded, “I shall do my very best.”

She should have left the conversation there, but as he turned to leave, she called out, “And Guy? Please ensure that you do not smell of whiskey this time. Mama notices these things.”

Guy fixed her with a glare and then strode out of the room, shutting the door behind him with more force than was entirely necessary.

Now, sitting in her carriage outside of the railway station, Adele put on her most regretful smile. “Guy is at the Colorado Grand today, ensuring everything is ready for the grand opening. He will join us for supper.”

“From what Margot has told me, your husband sounds remarkably industrious,” said James in that gentle, affable manner Adele remembered well from her days in the ballroom. She wondered whether, outside of a debate in the House of Commons, the man had ever had a snide or ungenerous thought in his life.

“I believe you’ll find America a very industrious place and one that is expanding rapidly as well. Perhaps there is no place where that is more evident than in Pasadena,” she said, as the carriage pulled away from the railway station.

“I can see that,” said Margot, wincing a little at the banging of hammers echoing from a half-built structure at the corner of Raymond Avenue and California Boulevard. “Goodness, is it always so loud?”

For her part, Adele hadn’t noticed the noise, but she sought to reassure her cousin, saying, “You will find our house much quieter.”

Margot nodded, but then covered her mouth with her fine lawn handkerchief and gave a cough.

“Are you quite all right?” asked Adele.

Margot flapped her other hand in front of her face.

“It is the dust,” said James. “Margot can be rather sensitive to these things.”

“Of course,” said Adele, recalling her cousin’s more delicate nature. How could she have forgotten?

“It hasn’t rained in a few weeks and the carriages do bring up the dust,” she added. “I suppose one becomes used to these things.”

Margot lowered her handkerchief enough to say, “Don’t worry about me. I will be all right in a moment.”

Adele smiled at her and hoped very much that would be the case.

chapter twenty ADELE

Goodness,” murmured Margot, looking up at the white facade with the columned portico and arching gables that gave Adele’s house its name. “This is your home?”

“Yes,” said Adele as James helped them both down to the front drive.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it,” said Margot.

“It certainly is a far cry from our little Georgian town house,” said James with a chuckle.

“I suppose it is,” said Adele, looking up at the Gables through their eyes.

Margot had been so excited when she’d written about the house in Fitzrovia James had purchased for them as their first marital home. One day James would inherit the Benson family house in Kensington and a modest estate in the country, but until then, Margot claimed that all she wanted was a sweet little place where they might be happy.

The Gables, Adele knew, must look palatial by comparison.

“Come inside,” she said, gesturing to the front door, where her housekeeper waited. “Mrs. Jarrett will take your things and Booth will ensure your trunks are taken up to your rooms when they arrive from the station.”

Margot and James handed hats, coats, and gloves off to Adele’s housekeeper, who informed Adele that luncheon would be served in a quarter hour.

After their meal, Adele led Margot and James through the house, showing them all the improvements she had made during her first years of marriage. They murmured their approval of everything from the French furnishings in the drawing room to the Gainsborough hanging on the dining room wall. Margot professed to be enchanted by the formal garden with its knot garden picked out in boxwood and punctuated by ornamental bay trees trimmed into globes. As soon as Adele spotted the first signs of fatigue in the weary couple, she escorted them to their adjoining bedrooms and left them to recover from the last leg of their long journey.