Excerpt: Deadliest Rose

He pulled out the small bundle containing the rose. He knew it was useless—her father, the rose expert, was dead, but he could not stop a small spurt of hope, nonetheless. “This may be too much to ask, but I’d like to identify this rose—do you recognize it?”
“Because my father is no longer with us? Perhaps. But let me see it anyway.” She held out a peremptory hand. Her face was a smooth, expressionless mask. Nonetheless, he detected traces of tired resignation at the implication that she could not be expected to have the depth of knowledge exhibited by a man.
When he placed the limp spray in her palm, she held it up to her nose and breathed in several times with closed eyes, cupping the flowers in her hands. Then she gave it a cursory examination before beginning to pull the petals off of one flower.
“Stop!” He reached over to wrench it out of her hand, but she turned slightly away, preventing him from grabbing it away. “What are you doing?”
“Counting the petals. Why?”
“You’re destroying it. How shall I get it identified if you ruin it?”
She held it out to him. “Then take it. Plant it, or allow me to root it. Or graft it. If it grows, you can ask your friend, Mr. Lee, to identify it in two or three years from the shape of the bush and bloom habit. Most men who grow roses will agree that it takes at least one cycle of blooming to identify a rose with any assurance.”
“Two years!”
“Yes—if you want to be sure. And isn’t that why you wish to identify it? So you can purchase a specimen for your own garden?”
“Yes—but…”
“Yes?”
He gazed into her coolly discerning eyes and realized she was aware that he was not being open with her. But given Mr. Lee’s reaction, he could not bring himself to tell the complete truth. The rose would not last long enough to find another master gardener, assuming he could even find one. “It’s…a wager. Silly, I know, but one of my friends said I could not identify this rose.” The tips of his ears burned.
“I see.” She studied him. Her eyes grew colder still. “This is all a wager?” She glanced at Rose.
“No, of course not!”
Her fingers pushed the petals into a line on the table, hovering over them. Thirteen petals, thin and wilting spread in a tattered line. The limp spray was dying. The small, tight buds had already blackened and hung limply. His chest tightened with frustration.
Then with a theatrical gesture that suggested more defiance than scientific inquiry, she ripped apart the remaining flowers. She arranged the petals in three parallel lines. To his surprise, the roses did not all have the same number of petals. The first had had thirteen petals. The next had eleven and the final rose had seventeen. After examining what remained of the stalk, the yellow stamens, and leaves.
Finally, she glanced up at him and although she didn’t precisely shrug, there was a quality in her expression that spoke of disdain when she said, “Rosa Collina fastigiata.”
“That’s it?” Disappointment made him aware of the lateness of the hour and his own tiredness. He needn’t have come here at all—Lee had it right the first time.
“Well, yes. What were you expecting?”
“Something…more. A name…”
“That is a name,” she replied, irritation sharpening her voice. “Or Flat-Flowered Hill Rose, if you prefer an English one.”
“You’re sure?”’
Her eyes hardened. “As sure as I can be from this small spray.” She flung the petals and twig onto the table. “No one can be absolutely sure without seeing the bush and knowing the growth habit and bloom cycles. Have you any idea how many roses there are?”
“I—”
“That is why your friend made a clever wager—if wager it was. And if the true wager wasn’t bringing that girl, Rose, to a spinster plantsman.”
“No, and truly, I apologize. I sincerely appreciate you providing me with a name. And Rose was an accidental meeting on my way here. She was nearly killed in the road a few blocks from here. I couldn’t just leave her—for God’s sake, she’s just a child!”
“No, I suppose you couldn’t,” she replied grudgingly. One of her slender hands rested on the girl’s lank hair. “And it’s late. You have your name. I hope you win your wager.”