Like a Flower in Bloom by Mitchell Siri

Author:Mitchell, Siri [Mitchell, Siri]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: FIC042030, FIC042040, FIC027170, England—Social life and customs—19th century—Fiction, Young women—England—Fiction, Man-woman relationships—Fiction
ISBN: 9781441265227
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2014-12-30T16:00:00+00:00

Between the readings, Miss Templeton took my hand in hers and walked the length of the room as she conversed with me about hair falls and gowns. When she paused to open her fan and look about, I was quite surprised to find that we had come to a stop in front of Mr. Stansbury.

He bowed.

We curtseyed.

She squeezed my hand. “Miss Withersby has told me such stories of your . . . your . . . ?” Her brow puckered.

I mouthed the word stumpery.

“Sumpery.”

“My stumpery?”

“That’s it! You see, it’s such a fantastical idea that I really can’t quite conceive the picture of it.”

“It’s a garden of sorts set with tree stumps placed upside down so their roots show. Does that give you a better idea?”

“Not really.”

“There are twenty-three such stumps. I just began to cultivate it last spring, and I—”

Really, I’d had enough of such foolishness. “What I’ve always wondered is how one cultivates a stump.” It defied the definition of the word cultivate, did it not, when the thing was dead to begin with? “Perhaps caretaking would be a better way to explain it.”

Miss Templeton’s smile was fixed to her face, although her eyes looked quite vexed. “I really have so little imagination, Mr. Stansbury. I’m afraid it’s one of my most grievous faults.”

He smiled down at her as if he considered her fault a virtue. “I’ve always been a man more inclined to the practical than the fanciful myself, Miss Templeton. I see no reason for you to apologize.”

“That’s so kind. So very kind. Isn’t it, Miss Withersby?”

I felt my brow wrinkle as she looked at me.

Her brows sunk into a curve. “You’re so very kind, Mr. Stansbury, that I wonder if you would consider doing me a favor?”

“For you I would descend into the salt mines, Miss Templeton; I would brave even those steaming, malodorous salt pans.”

Her cheeks colored. “I’m such a dreadfully curious creature. My father is forever saying so. I’ve always supposed it the consequence of having been left motherless—”

The levity left Mr. Stansbury’s eyes in an instant. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea that your mother—”

“There’s no reason you ought to be sorry, but in any case, I do so wish I could see your stumpery.”

He searched her eyes for a moment before answering. When he did, his smile had returned. “I would consider it an honor. Why don’t you come tomorrow? I will show it to you myself.”

She linked her arm with mine. “You’re too generous! You’re so thoughtful! We’d be delighted to come. Wouldn’t we, Miss Withersby?”

“Tomorrow? I’m not certain I can—”

She jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow.

“Yes. That would be fine.”

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