Читать книгу Texas Rose - Marie Ferrarella, Marie Ferrarella - Страница 12

Rose was keenly aware that Matt was in the next room, settling in.

There was another guest bedroom on the other side of her aunt’s room. Why hadn’t Beth given him that one? Why the one next to hers? What was she trying to do to her? Rose thought moodily. It was hard enough dealing with emotions and hormones that were completely out of kilter because of her condition without having to put up with barbarians not only at the gate, but storming through those same gates, as well.

Matt had told Beth that he was planning to stay in New York about a week or two. He’d been looking at Rose when he’d said it, as if the length of time depended strictly on her.

If that was the case, he should be on a plane for home right now, Rose thought, frustrated.

Making up her mind to convince Beth to withdraw her invitation to Matt, Rose left her bedroom and went looking for her aunt.

Instead she ran into a mini army of people carrying covered dishes toward the terrace.

Following their path with her eyes, Rose found Beth. She was holding court on the terrace. Right in the middle of things, as always, stood Beth, pointing and issuing soft-spoken orders like a general mantled in a flowing caftan.

Rose stepped out of the way of a young, trim-waisted man in black livery carrying a small box. Feeling like someone in the middle of Atlantis moments before the fatal earthquake, she made a beeline for her aunt.

“Aunt Beth, what is all this?”

“Right there will be fine, dear,” she said to the young woman with the salad bowl. Beth spared Rose a quick glance over her shoulder. “Why, it’s dinner, darling. What does it look like?”

There were crystal goblets, a very fancy bottle of what appeared to be ginger ale, another of champagne. Covered entrée dishes sat atop a table graced with a cream-colored lace cloth and overlooking the park that dusk was slowly covering.

“Throwing a couple of steaks in the frying pan and tossing in a salad is dinner,” Rose informed her. “This is a conspiracy.”

Beth laughed and patted Rose’s cheek. “Nonsense, Rose, there’s no conspiracy.” She leaned into her niece, lowering her voice. “You know, it’s a known fact that some women in your condition start becoming paranoid.”

Rose stiffened and turned around, looking toward the living room to make sure that Matt wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity.

“Aunt Beth—” she said between clenched teeth. This was supposed to remain a family secret and here Beth was, talking about it in the middle of a circus of strangers.

Beth lowered her voice even more. “I’m whispering, honey. Even you can’t hear me.” She came to attention as another man came out on the terrace with a small, narrow box in his hands. “Oh, put that right there. I’ll take care of it.”

Ignoring the crisis Rose was going through, Beth began putting out long, tapered candles.