Summary: Adam learns the truth about a girl he loves.

Rated: K+   Word count: 589

 

Flowers for Truth

 

“Flowers for the lady, sir?”

The lilting voice drew Adam Cartwright’s eyes to the smudged face of a young flower seller. His gaze traveled to the tray of nosegays she held and then to the face of the girl beside him.

“Would you. . .”

“You don’t have to. . .”

“Which one?”

She pointed to a bright bunch of mixed flowers tied with lavender ribbon. He asked the price and drew the requisite coins from his pocket. “Thank you, sir.” The girl bobbed a curtsey and went on her way. Adam handed the flowers to Eugenia Van Pelt who immediately brought them to her upturned nose.

“Yes, thank you, good sir.” Eugenia smiled coyly and fluttered her lashes. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

“They’re only pretty; you’re beautiful,” Adam replied smoothly.

“Why, Mr. Cartwright, I didn’t know the college taught flattery, or is that what you always say when you buy a lady flowers?”

“I’ve never bought a girl flowers before; you are the first, Miss Van Pelt.”

She widened her eyes in a show of disbelief. “You expect me to believe that you have never given another girl flowers?”

Adam’s lips curled upward. “No, but I never said I hadn’t given a girl flowers; I said I had never bought them before. Back home flowers don’t grow in hot houses. They can be picked for free in any meadow.”

“And have you picked many of them.”

“I’ve picked my share.” His eyes sparkled, and he drew her hand back through his arm. They started to walk once more.

“Things really are very different out in the West,” Eugenia murmured softly as she buried her nose in the bouquet.

“Some things. Back home I might have you calling me Adam by now. We could always say it was to prevent confusion with my father.”

Eugenia giggled. “Oh, there would never be any confusion if your father were here. They would simply call you young Mr. Cartwright. Papa already does occasionally.” She deepened her voice, “Are you telling me that that young Mr. Cartwright is escorting Eugenia again?”

He leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Again and again and again.” They both glanced over their shoulders to where her parents stood keeping her well within their sight. “I didn’t know your father objected to me.”

“Oh, he doesn’t object to you. Papa objects to the fact that I’m old enough to receive callers or be escorted anywhere by anyone. I’d be in braids and short skirts still if he had his way.”

“He doesn’t want to lose his little girl. One can hardly blame him.”

She laughed softly and shook her head. “He should know he will never lose me. It is a blessing, though, that Papa has an interest in so many different businesses.”

“You expect the man you marry to join one of your father’s businesses?”

“Well, of course, I mean unless. . .” She turned and raised her eyes to his. “It would be a very important place he was offered.”

“And if he had a very important place of his own?”

“Well, then, I guess it would depend on where that place was.” Her voice had grown flat, and their steps slowed.

“I think perhaps we should rejoin your parents, Miss Van Pelt,” Adam said after a silent minute.

“Yes, I expect we should.”

They turned. Adam did not take her arm, and when she sniffed the flowers again, they did not smell as sweet.

 

Tags:  Adam Cartwright, College Years