Page 76 of The Queen of Roses

Adele almost had to laugh at the audacity of him, sitting at his employer’s table, drinking coffee out of her china cups and negotiating an increase to his weekly wage before Adele had even seen any evidence of his hard work.

“Twelve fifty,” she offered. “I will have undergardeners to hire as well.”

He leaned back in his chair for the first time, light brown eyes studying her. “For five dollars more, I’ll do the work myself and only hire men for the day if I need the help.”

“Mr. Macalister—”

“Just Macalister will do,” he said.

There was something about the way he cut across her, putting her neatly back in her place, that made her lips thin. She folded her hands into her lap, stealing a few brief seconds to compose herself.

“Macalister,” she began again. “I will not have you dictate how I run my household.”

He lifted a shoulder. “If you want me creating a garden for you out of nothing, tending to it, and watching over the property as caretaker, you’ll take my terms. Fifteen dollars a week and no undergardeners.”

Goodness, the man was forthright.

Adele glanced over at Mrs. Barnes who inclined her head a fraction as though to say, The choice is yours.

“All right, fifteen dollars and no permanent staff.” She would worry about how she would explain the gardener’s high wage to Guy later.

“There is another thing,” he said.

“Goodness, Macalister, you do drive a hard bargain,” said Mrs. Barnes with a laugh.

“It’s about my time off,” he said.

“You would, of course, have Sundays off,” said Adele. “Wednesday afternoons, too, if you would like, so you might do your weekly shopping.”

“I’d like four consecutive days off every month in lieu of every Sunday,” he said.

“Four days?” She was beginning to wonder what the limit would be to this man’s demands.

“I need them to ride home,” he explained. “To see my wife.”

“Your wife?” she asked, glancing at Mrs. Barnes, who looked just as surprised.

“She lives in Sun Valley with her parents,” he said.

“Well, I’m certain that she will be delighted to learn she will be moving into the caretaker’s cottage with you,” said Adele.

“That won’t be possible. Annabel is an invalid. Her mother takes care of her. I would like to be able to go back for a few days a month to visit them,” he said.

“I am sorry, Macalister,” she said, suitably chastened that she hadn’t thought he might have a perfectly good reason to make such a request. “Of course you may have the time off each month.”

“Well, I suppose that settles that,” said Mrs. Barnes.

“When would you be able to start, Macalister?” asked Adele.

He looked to Mrs. Barnes.

“You have shown that you are a man who is clearly capable of exercising his free will,” said Mrs. Barnes.

“I’ll go to the property Sunday on my afternoon off. If I like the look of the place, I’ll move the following week,” he said.

“Very well,” said Adele. “I will meet you at Rosewood House at two o’clock on Sunday.”

“If there is nothing else…” Macalister trailed off.