Black Rose: NRoberts - G2 Black Rose

There were some sketches as well, Roz noted on a quick flip-through—her grandmother’s work. It made her feel warm to look at them.

But she didn’t need Mitch to tell her that even though they had the books, the job of reading them and finding anything pertaining to Amelia was daunting.

“They’re not dated.” Rubbing her eyes, Stella leaned back on the sofa in the parlor. “From what I can tell at a quick glance, Beatrice Harper didn’t use a journal per year, but simply filled each, however much time that involved, and moved to the next.”

“So we’ll sort them as best we can,” Mitch said, “divide them up, and read each through.”

“I hope I get a juicy one.” Due to the circumstances, David had put together an elaborate high tea, and now helped himself to a scone.

“I’ll want them all accounted for, at all times. But we have a wedding tomorrow. Stella, I don’t want you to overdo it. I’m not going to be responsible for you getting married with circles under your eyes. Who could that be?” Roz said when the doorbell rang. “Everyone’s here. No, sit, David. I’ll get it.”

She walked out with Parker prancing at her heels, barking as if to let her know he was on the job. When she opened the door, Roz’s eyebrows winged up. And her smile was sharp as a blade.

“Why, Cousin Rissy, what an unpleasant surprise.”

“Where is that useless girl, and my property?”

“I haven’t the vaguest idea what you’re talking about, and care even less.” She noted her aunt had hired a sedan, and driver, for the trip from the city. “I suppose good manners dictate I ask you in, but I warn you, I’m not above arranging a strip search before you go—which would be traumatic for all parties—so don’t even think about taking anything.”

“You are, and always have been, a rude and dislikable creature.”

“Isn’t that funny?” Roz stepped back so Clarise could march into the foyer with her cane. “I was thinking the same thing about you. We’re in the parlor, having tea.” Roz stepped to the doorway. “Cousin Rissy is paying a call. Isn’t that unfortunate? You may remember my son, Harper. You always enjoyed complaining about him incessantly on your other visits. And David, Harper’s childhood friend who tends Harper House, and would have counted the silverware.”

“I’m not interested in your sass.”

“I have so little else to offer you. I believe you’ve also made the acquaintance of Dr. Carnegie.”

“I have, and will be speaking to my lawyer about him.”

He smiled broadly. “It’s Mitchell Carnegie. Two els.”

“This is Logan Kitridge, friend, neighbor, and employee, who is the fiancé of Ms. Stella Rothchild, who manages my garden center.”

“I have no interest in your motley arrangement of employees, or your questionable habit of crowding them into Harper House.”

“These are her children, Gavin and Luke, and their dog, Parker,” Roz continued as if Clarise hadn’t spoken. “And a young cousin of mine, on the Ashby side, also an employee, Hayley Phillips, and her beautiful daughter, Lily. I believe that covers everyone. David, I suppose you’d better pour Clarise a cup of tea.”

“I don’t want tea, particularly any prepared and poured by a homosexual.”

“It’s not catching,” David offered, unfazed.

“Why, David, you’re a homosexual?” Roz feigned surprise. “How amazing.”

“I try to be subtle about it.”

“Where is Jane?” Clarise demanded. “I insist on speaking to her this instant.”

Roz picked up a tiny cookie and gave it to a delighted Lily. “And Jane would be?”

“You know very well. Jane Paulson.”

“Oh, of course, Cousin Jane. I’m afraid she’s not here.”

“I won’t tolerate your lies.” At her tone, Parker sent up a warning growl. “And keep that horrible little dog away from me.”

“He’s not horrible.” Gavin sprang up, and was immediately grabbed by his mother. “You’re horrible.”

“And if you’re mean,” Luke piped up, “he’ll bite you, because he’s a good dog.”

“Gavin, you and Luke take Parker outside. Go on, now.” Stella gave Gavin a little squeeze.

“Get the Frisbee,” Logan suggested, with a wink for the boys. “I’ll come out in a few minutes.”

Gavin picked up the dog, scowling on the way out, and Luke stopped at the door. “We don’t like you,” he said and strode on his sturdy little legs behind his brother.

“I see your employees are no better equipped to raise well-mannered children than you, Rosalind.”

“Apparently not. I’m so proud. Well, since you won’t have tea, and I can’t help you regarding Jane, you must want to be on your way.”

“Where are the journals?”

“Journals? Do you mean the journals written by my grandmother and my great-grandmother that were taken out of this house without my permission?”

“Your permission was not required. I’m the oldest living Harper, and those journals are mine by right.”

“We certainly disagree on that, but I can help you as to their location. They’re back where they belong—morally, legally, and ethically.”

“I’ll have you arrested.”

“Oh, please, try. Won’t that be fun?” The dangerous iceberg was back as she sat on the arm of a chair, crossed her legs casually. “Won’t you just relish having your name, the Harper family name, smeared all over the press, talked about all over the county?” Her eyes went hot, in direct contrast to the chill of her voice. “Because I’ll see that it is. I’ll grant every interview and discuss the whole unseemly mess over cocktails at every opportunity. Such things don’t concern me.”

She paused, leaning down to take the cookie Lily was holding up to her. “Why, thank you, sugar-pie. But you?” she said to Clarise. “I don’t think you’ll enjoy being the butt of gossip and innuendo and jokes. Particularly when it’ll come to nothing. I have possession of what is my legal property.”

She picked Lily up, set her on her knee, and gave the cookie back while the room remained silent but for Clarise’s outraged breaths. Roz decided it was one of the rare times she could actually, and accurately, describe a scene with the phrase her bosom heaved .

It was glorious.

“If you want to have the police question how I came to regain possession, I’ll be happy to tell them. And I hope you enjoy explaining to them how you had what belongs to Harper House, and therefore me, locked away in your desk. Along with several other expensive pieces that are catalogued as Harper House property.”

“You’ll dirty the family name!” Her face dark with rage, Clarise stepped forward. “You have no right. You have no business digging into what is best left buried.”

Calmly Roz passed the baby to Mitch, where Lily babbled and generously offered to share her mangled cookie. She heard Mitch’s murmured “Take her down, honey” as she got to her feet. “What are you afraid of? What did they do to her? Who was Amelia?”

“Nothing but a tramp, a low-class whore who got no more than she deserved. I knew, the minute you were born, that blood would tell in you. I see it has.”

“So I am from her,” Roz said quietly.

“I’ll speak no more about it. It’s a crime and a sin that a woman like you is mistress of this house. You have no right here, and never did. You’re no-account, grasping, nothing but a blight on the family name. My grandmother would’ve set the dogs on you before she let your kind cross the threshold of Harper House.”

“Okay, that’s about enough.” Before Roz could speak—and she had plenty to say—Harper was up and across the room. “You’re leaving, and you’re never coming through that door again.”