Black Rose

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