A Rose for Laura by Callie Hutton

21

Keniel looked up from the ledger he was studying when Martin entered the library. "Mr. Singh, there are three ladies here to speak with you. They told me they were not expected. Shall I send them on their way?"

Three ladies? Calling on a bachelor? "Did they present names?"

Martin covered the distance between the doorway and Keniel's desk. He presented three cards to him:

Lady Beatrice Warwick

Miss Abigail Smythe

Mrs. Judith Mallory

He recognized Lord Warwick as one of the members of the Rose Room. The other two names were somewhat common, so he wasn't sure if he knew their husbands.

Why the devil were these three women calling on him? Perhaps they were also heading up some sort of charity that needed his support. He placed the cards on the desk and looked up at Martin. "Very well. Show them in. No need to send in a tea service since I have an appointment shortly, so their visit will not be long."

He stood as the three women entered the room. One look at them and he knew he was facing formidable members of the Beau Monde. Each woman carried herself as if she'd been born to wealth and nobility.

"Good afternoon, ladies. May I offer you a seat?" He pointed to the chairs and settee in a circle near the window.

They all stared at him as if he possessed two heads. The three women settled in their seats.

Keniel took his seat and leaned back, resting his foot on his knee. "Ladies, I apologize for not sending in refreshments, but I'm afraid you've caught me a short time before I must leave for an appointment."

The women were close in age. None would be considered pretty—certainly not as pretty as Laura—but their plainness was enhanced by clothing in the height of fashion; garments made from top quality fabric.

"I have your cards, but perhaps you can introduce yourselves?"

Each woman claimed a name from the three cards Martin had handed him. Once they were done and silence reigned, he said, "How may I help you ladies?"

The one who'd identified herself as Lady Warwick moved to the edge of her chair and looked him in the eye. No reticence in this woman. "Mr. Singh, we are here to ask for your help."

Ah. He'd guessed correctly. They wanted money. "If I am able to assist in any way, ladies, I will be happy to."

Two of the women looked at Mrs. Mallory, as if it had been pre-determined she would be the spokesperson for the group. "Mr. Singh, you must understand that we come here today with the best of intentions."

An odd way to ask for money, but he merely nodded.

"We understand you have a friendship with Miss Laura Benson."

Suddenly there was a prickle on the back of his neck and Keniel immediately straightened up in his seat. "Yes." No point in giving them more information than what they'd requested.

Mrs. Mallory continued. "You have been seen together at various events and places in the last few weeks."

Lady Warwick jumped in. "We also understand she has been working at the Rose Room and has visited you here on several occasions—"

"—with no chaperone," Miss Smythe added.

Keniel held up his hand. "Excuse me, ladies, but I do not understand the point of this conversation. You are telling me things that I am aware of, since I was the one escorting Miss Benson." The prickle on his neck had turned to a definite itch.

"The point we are trying to make, Mr. Singh, is you and Miss Benson are not of the same class."

The itch turned to anger. "If you have come all this way this afternoon to tell me something I am fully aware of, I will remind you I have an appointment I must leave for. So, unless there is more to add, I'm afraid I need forget my manners and request that you leave."

"Please do be at ease, Mr. Singh," Lady Warwick said. "We are merely here as friends of Miss Benson."

"Indeed? And has Miss Benson asked you to come here today to remind me of our class differences?"

Mrs. Mallory leaned forward. "Miss Benson has no idea we are here, and I will tell you why."

"Somehow I doubt anyone could stop you from doing so." He leaned back again, his heart taking extra beats as the ladies all stared at him.

"Mr. Singh, you seem to be a reasonable man," Mrs. Mallory said. "I understand your brothers have embraced you and welcomed you into their family. For that we are quite happy for you. However, we merely wish to remind you that anything between you and Miss Benson must never develop into something permanent."

He felt as though his head would explode. What the bloody hell gave these women the right to come to his home and lay down demands?

"Ladies, I'm afraid I will have to insist that you leave." He stood, but none of the women joined him.

"Please sit down, Mr. Singh," Miss Smythe said. "Although she had the best of intentions, I don’t think Mrs. Mallory has stated what we wish to relay to you."

Everything inside him screamed to show the women to the door, but a small voice inside his head that he'd been ignoring for weeks spoke up. He took his seat again. "Very well."

Miss Smythe continued. "You and Miss Benson might believe all would be well if you married."

"No one's mentioned marriage."

Perhaps not but it was certainly on his mind quite a lot for the past couple of weeks.

"Before one makes such a commitment, it is necessary to not only consider the consequence of those actions on the two people involved, but on Society itself. Miss Benson is an accepted member of the ton. She is liked and well-received anywhere she wishes to go."

Lady Warwick took up the tirade. "She would have to give up her life as she knows it."

"I don't understand why. As you've pointed out we have been to a number of events together. No one has shunned us or given us the cut direct." He hated that he felt the need to defend them to these women. He should show them out and move on to his appointment. But something inside him, a little thought that could not be ignored kept him fastened to the chair.

"Let us be frank, Mr. Singh," Mrs. Mallory said. "With marriage comes children. Children can be cruel and any children between you and Miss Benson would not be accepted."

The woman finally hit the target and blood gushed from his heart. How could he allow Laura to watch their children cry because they were not accepted by the people?

One last attempt. "I don't understand why you are speaking to me about this. You said you were Miss Benson's friends. If she agrees with you, why are you here?"

"Because she does not agree with us," Miss Smythe said. "That is why we turned to you. We care about her and want to see her have a happy life. If we told her what we're discussing with you today, she would ignore it."

Lady Warwick stepped in again. "If you truly care for her, Mr. Singh, you will let her go. Let her have the life she was born to have. Let her stay in her own class."

He lowered his head and slumped in his chair, his hands dangling between his spread legs. Hell couldn't possibly be worse than what he was feeling. Even though he'd been telling himself these things for weeks, he managed to keep those concerns hidden. A curse on these women for bringing them out into the light. He rallied himself and stood. "If you ladies are finished, I must be on to my appointment."

They all stood and shook out their skirts. "Yes, Mr. Singh," Lady Warwick said, "we are finished. I just hope we've given you something to think about." She swept past him with her parting words. "You must admit this is all for the best."

The three marched from the room with all the dignity and grace of the class Laura belonged to and he could not take from her.

* * *

A full weekhad passed since Laura had received the note from Keniel that he would be unable to attend the musicale at Lord and Lady Sheffield's home. Unable to work up any enthusiasm for it herself, she'd sent a note of regret and waited to hear from Keniel again.

Nothing. Silence. She hadn't seen him in all that time. She'd sent two notes asking after him, but both missives sent in return merely said he was well. This afternoon she would visit his home. It was indeed odd to not hear from him with no more than a dismissive note.

She missed him dreadfully. If she'd learned anything, this silence from him convinced her that she had very strong feelings for the man. Love, possibly. Well actually, love most likely.

Checking herself in her mirror one last time, she smoothed the front of her dress with damp hands and took a deep breath. She refused to believe he was avoiding her on purpose. Most likely he was merely busy with the club and setting himself up in his new home.

She nodded at the driver as she entered her carriage. The ride was short, the traffic light this time of the day. She purposely chose to come before luncheon since Keniel would leave for the club in a couple of hours.

Hurrying up the steps, she dropped the knocker on the front door. Martin opened the door and she greeted him.

"Good day to you, Miss Benson."

"Is Mr. Singh in, Martin?"

He hesitated for a minute which was odd since surely he knew if his master was in or not. He gave her a slight bow. "I will check, Miss Benson. Please have a seat in the front parlor."

Instead of sitting, she chose to pace the room, a small knot in her stomach telling her something was wrong. Was Keniel ill?

After a few minutes, Martin returned. "I'm sorry, Miss Benson, but Mr. Singh sends his regrets since he is unable to meet with you right now."

How very, very odd. The knot in her stomach grew. She raised her chin and smiled, however. Ladylike training. "Very well, Martin. Thank you so much."

He refused to meet her eyes as he gestured for her to leave the room. She followed him out, down the steps and into the carriage.

For the following three days Laura did the same thing. With the same result. Keniel was unavailable to speak with her. She'd scribbled a note each time and left it with Martin. Each note was answered in a very polite manner.

She'd finally reached the point where she had to speak with him or lose her mind. With determination, she dressed in her finest evening gown of red satin, off the shoulder bodice, tight and smooth around her stomach, with the back pulled up into layers of jewel studded fabric.

A black lace choker surrounded her neck with a pearl dangling from the center. She'd even used a bit of rouge on her lips. She studied herself in the mirror and, satisfied with her appearance, she stepped back and picked up her black lace gloves and reticule. Carlson met her at the door, holding her cloak out.

"Thank you." She stepped out the door, down the steps, and into the hackney he'd arranged for since Papa was using the carriage. She had no desire to tell him where she planned to go.

She was nervous. There was no denying it. Keniel had been acting strangely and if he would not see her at his house, he would see her at his club. The employees knew her, so she doubted she would have a problem gaining entrance providing she used the back door.

As per her instructions, the driver pulled around to the back of the club by way of the alley. He jumped down and helped Laura out of the carriage. "Shall I wait for you, miss?"

"No. I have no idea how long I will be." She paid him and walked up the two steps to the back door. She knocked and the door was opened by the man she remembered from when she'd worked there.

"Good evening, Miss Benson." He stepped back and allowed her to enter. "I assume you are here to see Mr. Singh?"

"Yes. Can you send word that I await him in the dining room?" She hurried away from the man, wanting to get upstairs before she accidentally ran into Keniel and have him dismiss her before she even got the chance to speak with him.

The door to Driscoll's office was closed, for which she was grateful, because she really didn't want to see anyone else until she'd seen Keniel and found out what the problem was.

She paced in the dining room as she waited, considering making a cup of tea but felt like she needed strong spirits instead.

* * *

Keniel leaned against the wall,tied in knots as he'd been since the visit from the three women who had convinced him the little voice inside his head had been right all along.

The women had come as friends of Laura, genuinely interested in her well-being. He could not discount that. He should be happy that they cared so much for her.

He ran his palm down his face. If Laura continued to show up at his house every day as she did for the past few days, he would be forced to face her and explain that whatever had been between them was over.

Truly, this was the coward's way out, but the thought of watching the pain on her face as he told her there would be no more 'them' would crush his heart completely.

"Keniel." Rob Maxim, one of the security men approached him.

Some problem with a gamer, no doubt. "What?"

"Miss Benson is upstairs in the dining room. She asked that I find you and request you join her."

Laura was here? In the dining room? Was she out of her mind coming here by herself?

"Thank you."

He barreled past the man and strode across the gaming floor. He took the steps to the upper floor two at a time. He got as far as the closed dining room door and came to an abrupt stop.

Laura was on the other side of that door. The Laura he loved and had planned to propose to before her friends came to call. He was certain she returned his feelings, but it was not something he would do. It was not in her best interests.

He took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, his blood pounding in his head.

Laura had been pacing and swung around to face him as the door opened. She stood there like a statue of perfection, a quizzical look on her face. His heart raced and he lost his breath, almost falling to his knees.

How would he ever get through this?