1
What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet
– Romeo and Juliet
‘But I’ve always dreamed of yellow roses,’ the bride said, leaning forward. ‘Yellow roses mixed with white lilies, hand tied with string.’
‘Yellow is very vulgar, Melanie,’ Mrs Carlton, the older woman replied, waving her hand as if to dismiss her future daughter-in-law. ‘At the Smithson wedding they had peach flowers. They were very elegant and tasteful.’ She gave a nod at the end, as if that was her final word.
Juliet chewed the top of her pen lid, watching the two women debating their wedding flower preferences. Since she’d started her florist business a year before, it had become a familiar scene. Sometimes she felt more like a therapist than anything else.
Pulling the blue pen lid from her mouth, Juliet scribbled on the pad in front of her. ‘You know, yellow and peach roses can look fantastic together,’ she suggested, quickly sketching out a picture of a bouquet. ‘We did something similar at the Hatherly wedding in the summer, and it looked divine.’ She leaned in towards Mrs Carlton, as if they were bosom buddies. ‘And you know how discerning Eleanor Hatherly is.’
She was name-dropping but she didn’t care. Though she was an outsider, she’d lived in Maryland long enough to know that in these circles snobbery was still a thing. Hell, she’d been married to one of the biggest snobs in Shaw Haven, after all.
Was still married to him, she corrected herself. For now, at least. Thanks to Maryland divorce laws, she and Thomas had to live separately for a year before their divorce could be finalised. Six months in, and she was already counting the days.
Melanie looked up at Juliet, a flash of hope in her eyes. ‘I’d love a peach and yellow bouquet.’
Patting her on the hand, Mrs Carlton smiled. ‘I knew we’d be able to agree on this. It’s the small details that are so important. You’ll learn that when you’re a Carlton, too.’
Grabbing her tablet, Juliet scrolled through her catalogue to show them the different arrangements, helping them narrow down the choices until they found the perfect one.
Welcome to married life. A world where you’ll run yourself ragged pleasing your husband, your in-laws and even your friends, while putting all your hopes and dreams on the backburner.
Juliet found her thoughts drifting back to her own wedding. She’d met Thomas when she was studying Fine Arts at Oxford Brookes University, and he’d been a Rhodes Scholar, an American studying at the more prestigious Oxford University. It had been a meeting of pure chance – she’d been working in a local florist at the weekends to try and eke out her student loan, in charge of deliveries in the local area. As she was walking up the path to Christ Church College, dodging the students and tourists who were admiring the fountain in the middle of the green, she’d been practically run over by the suave American post-grad who was running late for dinner.
He’d swept her off her feet both literally and figuratively that day. She’d been as besotted with his intelligence and sophistication as he’d been with her beauty and artistic flair. Their relationship had felt something like a holiday romance – from the moment they met they’d spent every day together – eating picnics in the park, or wandering aimlessly through the arboretum. He’d wanted to know everything about her, from her childhood dreams to her plans for the future.
And then she’d fallen pregnant.
That’s not when the cracks started to show, though. They were still desperately in love, and the differences in their backgrounds and experience meant nothing compared to the all-encompassing passion they felt for each other. So when – being the perfect gentleman he was – Thomas had asked her to marry him, she’d said yes without hesitation. After all, they were made for each other, weren’t they?
They were married in London. His family didn’t attend – she wasn’t even sure if he’d invited them. Instead she was supported by her three sisters. Lucy – her eldest sister – had always been the organiser. Within a few days of Thomas’s proposal she’d secured the town hall location for the ceremony, and arranged for a venue for their wedding party. Even Kitty and Cesca – still young at seventeen and eighteen – had helped, decorating the tables and making the invitations. Heck, they even agreed to wear the bridesmaid dresses that Juliet had made.
It had been a fairy-tale wedding, in spite of their haste. Twenty-year-old Juliet had never felt more beautiful as she walked up the small aisle on her father’s arm, her baby bump barely visible beneath the layers of white lace she wore. And when Thomas had turned to look at her, his eyes warm with what looked like love, she’d felt as though it was the beginning of a wonderful life together.
Better not to think about that. Not now.
‘Where did you two meet?’ Juliet asked the bride-to-be.
‘At Harvard,’ Melanie replied.
She was about to say more when the ol
der woman spoke over her. ‘David was at law school there. Imagine our surprise when he came back with more than a qualification.’
Melanie blushed but said nothing.
Juliet swallowed hard, trying not to remember her own mother-in-law’s reaction when Thomas introduced his new wife. They’d been married for two weeks by that point, moving back to his home town here in Maryland, where he planned to work in the family business. He’d assured her his family would feel the same way he did about her.