The Perfect Finish

Chapter Two - Henty

Anna stepped demurely into the morning room.

She wore a pastel striped dress that her new stepmama would approve of. Her cheeks glowed from a thorough soaping and her hands were still damp in the creases. Mrs Kathleen Rosewood despised the smell of horse. She despised her step-daughter's propensity to dwell in the stable.

Mrs Rosewood was - as always - a charming image of lace and satin. She met every standard of beauty; golden hair, blue eyes and a gentle pink glow to her cheeks.  She raised a painted eyebrow at Anna. 

"Oh, you are here! I fully expected you to go to the stables this morning." Her voice was soft. Dignified even, yet she managed a very disparaging tone.

"I did." Anna nodded to the butler to pour her tea and took her seat. "I returned a few hours ago."  She chose buttered toast and an egg.

"I see." Mrs Rosewood stared at her, irritation in her deep green eyes. "I think, Anna, you have a great deal to learn before you will be accepted in polite society."

Anna did not take offense. She smiled at her stepmama. "Did you tell Papa as much? I wondered what had brought him to agree to my scheme." She sipped the tea. The benefits of Anna spending the season in London was the only matter on which she and her stepmama agreed.

"He is happy to trust in my judgement," Mrs Rosewood said with deceptive mildness. "We are very lucky to have found a cousin prepared to offer her hospitality. Mrs Cosgrove seems to be very respectable."

Anna was silent for a few seconds. "Yes," she said finally. "I've not heard of her before, but she seems to be a genteel woman."

"You can be sure of that!" Mrs Rosewood spoke warmly. "Your father would not allow you to go otherwise."

They ate in silence. Anna could not find anything else to say.

Today was the Henty Cup and they were both attending.  It was in honour of Anna's imminent departure, nothing less could induce Mrs Rosewell to endure something as tedious as a horse race. But they were Rosewoods of Henty, and that meant horse races.  Anna's presence at this meet was a social obligation.

But not yet.  Nobody, Mrs Rosewood insisted, attended the first race. It was nothing but a warm up, a sop to the commoners who could not afford the high stakes of the more prestigious runs. They would arrive after ten o'clock.

Anna said nothing. She was lucky to be attending at all.  

After the meal they went separate ways. Anna  found the gardener in her rose garden, digging round the roots of one of her prized roses. It was the one place she had full control over on the whole property, and the first major battle she had lost against her stepmama. 

She looked round at the vivid blooms. "They're so beautiful, Harrold. Can you safely shift them?"

Tom Harrold took off his cap and scratched his balding head. "It's a pity, Miss, but roses can be moved. They be hardy plants."

"I am glad to hear it." Anna reached a hand to a particularly bright flower. "I never dreamed this would happen when I planted them." She'd wanted to be safely in London before the transplanting began, and she credited her stepmama with ensuring she was not.

"No, Miss." There was heartfelt agreement in the gardener's voice. "We none of us did." He waved a hand round at the roses. "But it be'ant the end. They be beautiful here, but they'll be just as beautiful somewhere else."

"Yes." Anna looked round slowly, regret settling over her thoughts until she pushed it firmly away.  "It's true. All is not lost." 

The sandy red walls of Henty House reached up towards the clouds. She forced an optimistic note into her voice."In the scheme of things, a rose-garden is not so serious." Anna  took a step towards home and paused. "You'll care for it, won't you, Harrold? When I go away?"