Free Say You Will by Kate Perry Page B

ideas. There’re raw sketches without any details. I wanted to see what sort of shape you’d like before going further.”
    Sara frowned at the designs.
    “If you don’t like any of them, I can start over,” Rosalind offered.
    “No, they’re lovely.” She hesitated and then said, “I just wonder if they’re me.”
    “If you’re thinking of what Nick said about your wardrobe, don’t.”
    She looked down at herself. “I wonder if he wasn’t right, though. Is the black awful?”
    “What do you do?”
    “I’m a solicitor.”
    “Like Nick.” She smiled at the waitress, who set their treats on the table. “You’re lucky you have such a close friend in him. Did you two go to school together as well?”
    “No.” Shaking her head, she lined up her utensils neatly in order before reaching for a scone. “Nick’s four years older than me.”
    Rosalind studied the other woman as she poured their tea. Nick was right—black didn’t really suit Sara. “I understand you need to dress conservatively, but you could spice up your wardrobe with splashes of color here and there without compromising too much.”
    “What do you mean?” Sara asked.
    She unwound the scarf from her neck and held it out. “Take this.”
    “I couldn’t possibly. That’s your scarf.”
    “And I’m giving it to you. Our skin tones are similar and the colors will be perfect on you.” She nodded her head. “I want you to have it.”
    Sara took it reluctantly. “You’re sure?”
    “I wouldn’t offer it if I weren’t.” She watched the woman drape it around her neck. “Lovely. These scones look lovely, too.”
    “Thank you.”
    She looked up, surprised by Sara’s overly serious tone. She smiled and shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I felt like I knew you from the moment we met. But if it helps, think of it as an engagement gift.”
    Sara lowered her head, playing with the handle on her teacup, obviously touched.
    Rosalind sipped her tea, missing Bijou but happy she’d made a new friend.
     
     
    “You can’t get rid of this. This has historical significance,” Portia exclaimed.
    Rosalind glanced at the paper her sister held up gingerly. “What? Like the Magna Carta?”
    “No, this is from 1904.”
    They’d found a box of seemingly useless paperwork in the study’s closet. Rosalind had expected going through it to be a quick and painless. She’d forgotten nothing was easy when Portia was involved. In the two hours they’d been sitting on the floor, shifting through the box, her sister had found no less than sixteen historically significant documents.
    Sighing, Rosalind looked at what Portia held out. “It looks like an old map.”
    “It is. It’s the route Jasper Summerhill took on his grand tour. Look”—Portia leaned in and pointed to a scribble—”those are his initials.”
    Enough. She wiped her hands on her jeans and stood up.
    Her sister gaped at her. “You’re leaving? Now?”
    Yes, before she threw the bronze pineapple at her. “I have some work I need to do.”
    She waited for Portia to ask about it, like a normal person would, but her sister shrugged and continued looking through the box.
    Rosalind should have known better than to think her sister was normal. Shaking her head, she went to her room to take a long, hot shower. She dressed in an underlayer of silk topped by cashmere lounging pants and a hoodie with a scarf tied around her neck.
    Taking her sketchpad, she started to go down to the kitchen—brainstorming Sara’s dress with a cup of tea and Fran’s ginger shortbread seemed like the thing.
    But she walked by the countess’s quarters and changed her mind. The better place to think about Sara’s dress was in her mother’s closet.
    She went to her mother’s room and knocked on the aged wood. “Mum?”
    Ear pressed to the door, she waited for an answer. When there was no reply, she opened the door. “Mum? It’s Rosalind.”
    Still no answer, so she peeked in and froze.
    The room was an