A Rose Before Dying (A Second Sons Inquiry Agency Regency Mystery Book 2)
Amy Corwin
Language: English
Pages: 300
ISBN: B00557U2QU
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
The only family Charles has left is his uncle, Sir Edward. When Sir Edward is accused of murdering his mistress, Charles is determined to prove his uncle's innocence. Unfortunately, the only clues left behind are a few enigmatic roses and a note threatening to kill an unidentified victim unless the riddle is solved.
Ariadne is struggling to make a success of the gardening business left to her by her father, and when an earl, Charles Vance, tells her that a stranger's life depends upon her identification of a rose, she is torn. She wants to assist him, but If she is wrong, someone could die and her reputation as a rosarian would be ruined.
The stakes are high, but Ariadne reluctantly agrees to help the attractive earl. As the two plunge deeper into the mystery, they must fight the distraction of their growing love if they hope to prevent a killer from claiming yet another life.
Good Masters! Sweet Ladies!: Voices from a Medieval Village
Just like his nephew. Which meant someone else had murdered Lady Banks and Mr. Nivelle. Chapter Eight “Why didn’t you tell me?” Charles demanded of his uncle. Sir Edward clasped his hands over the knob of his walking stick and rested his chin upon the knuckles. He eyed him. “Tell you what, nephew?” “You grow roses! There was no reason to send me up and down the length and breadth of London to find another rosarian—you’re one, yourself. You could have identified that rose. For God’s
didn’t need my help? He gripped his uncle under his arms. “Are you ready?” “Just hold steady.” Struggling to control his descent, Sir Edward threw an arm over the horse’s neck. When his feet hit the ground, he bit off a deep groan and caught at the saddle, resting his sweating forehead against his outstretched forearm. “Uncle!” Charles drew one of Sir Edward’s arms over his shoulder. “Are you able to walk?” “Does it matter? I’ve got to, regardless. Just give me a minute.” He breathed harshly
shoulders bunching to hide his vulnerable neck, as if his very thoughts were dangerous. “Well, man?” Charles prompted. Make a decision—give me a name! Anything I can use. “What is it?” “I can’t be sure.” Again the words were slow and drawn out. “But there’s another. One who might take a chance on naming a rose.” His mouth pursed in thought. Charles leaned forward. “Who?” “The Wellfleets.” “Nurserymen?” “No.” Lee shook his head and avoided Charles’s glance. He was clearly ashamed of his
head. “Sorry—doesn’t sound like your niece, but them blue eyes caught at you.” “What’s your name?” Charles asked in a blunt non sequitur. “Sam, sir.” “Well, Sam, you seem like a knowledgeable lad. I’m Lord Castlemoor.” The lad’s eyes grew round with awe. Charles pressed a coin in his hand. “I’d be grateful for your assistance. Do you know where they went? Did they get into a carriage?” “That’s the odd thing, my lord. They just vanished.” “What do you mean, vanished? How could they vanish?”
parentage of our favorite roses. We live in exciting times, to be sure. 1802 – At the beginning of the 19th century, John Champneys of Charleston, South Carolina, made the first breakthrough in the introduction of the Chinese gene for perennial flowering into western roses. Mr. Champneys, a wealthy rice planter, crossed the White Musk Rose with the pollen of Parson’s Pink China. The resulting hybrid was called Rosa moschata hybrid and came to be known as Champneys’s Pink Cluster. A Frenchman