The Christmas Rose: The most heart-warming novel of 2018, from the Sunday Times bestseller. Dilly Court

it might have been a summer’s day, and the effect was heightened by a roaring coal fire and the light from two gasoliers with glass shades shaped like waterlilies.

      ‘Of course I’m up. I’m not a lazybones like you.’ A young woman rose from the sofa nearest the fire. ‘Who is this, Eugene?’

      ‘Rose, ignore my sister’s bad manners.’ Eugene gave Rose a gentle push. ‘I want you to meet my sister, Cecilia.’

      Remembering what Sadie had drummed into her, Rose bobbed a curtsey. ‘How do you do?’

      ‘Cissie, this is my protégée, Rose Munday. She is learning to use the typewriting machine I purchased in America and I’m giving her a chance to prove that she has it in her to become a reporter.’

      Cecilia looked Rose up and down. ‘How do you do, Miss Munday? I must say, I’m impressed. I don’t suppose you realise how honoured you are.’

      ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Rose glanced at Eugene, who shrugged and went to stand with his back to the fire.

      ‘My brother is a typical man, Miss Munday. He thinks that we have nothing on our minds other than fashion and marriage, in that order.’

      ‘That’s not fair, Cissie. I never said that.’ Eugene gave Rose an apologetic smile. ‘Well, I might have thought that way once, but times have changed. I met several lady journalists in New York and I admired them greatly.’

      ‘So what makes Miss Munday a suitable candidate?’ Cecilia demanded. ‘I want to know.’

      ‘Maybe she’ll tell you her story one day, but that’s up to her. For now all I want is for you to lend her something suitable to wear to the opera this evening.’

      Cecilia turned to Rose with a curious look. ‘What’s this all about, Miss Munday? Because if you think that my brother is a good catch I can assure you that he’s the last person I would recommend as a prospective husband.’

       Chapter Six

      ‘You couldn’t be more wrong,’ Rose said angrily. ‘Such a thought never occurred to me.’

      ‘Yes, that’s a bit strong, even for you, Cissie.’ Eugene strolled over to a side table and selected a cut-glass decanter. ‘Would either of you like a drink?’

      Rose shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’

      ‘It looks to me as though you had enough last evening.’ Cecilia shook her finger at him. ‘You’re turning into a rake, Gene. What would Papa say?’

      ‘Father was in Cairo last time I heard from him, so he’s not here to judge me.’

      ‘Your father is in Egypt?’ Rose was suddenly alert. ‘Is he in the army?’

      Cecilia raised a delicate eyebrow. ‘Heavens, no! Papa is in the diplomatic service, and the last letter I had from Mama said that the consulate had been relocated to Alexandria.’

      ‘That’s the last place I’d want to visit at the moment.’ Eugene poured himself a generous tot of brandy and swallowed it in one gulp. ‘Anyway, that’s beside the point, Cissie. Are you going to help Munday, or not?’

      Cecilia shot him a scornful look. ‘How patronising you are, Gene. The poor girl has a name. Either address her as Miss Munday or Rose, but don’t treat her as if she were on the cricket pitch at your old school.’

      Rose looked from one to the other. She felt like a tennis ball, being batted to and fro between the brother and sister, each trying to score points off the other. ‘Really, it doesn’t matter,’ she said hastily. ‘You can find someone else to go to see Patience, Guvnor. I don’t want to cause a fuss.’

      ‘There, Cissie. Now see what you’ve done.’ Eugene refilled his glass and took a sip. ‘You’ve embarrassed Munday.’

      ‘The only embarrassing person in this room is you, Gene.’ Cecilia turned her to Rose with a conciliatory smile. ‘I’m sorry, Rose. We’re being very ill-mannered, and of course I’ll lend you a gown.’ She glanced at her brother. ‘On one condition, Gene.’

      He drained his drink and placed the glass back on the tray. ‘Go on. How much is this going to cost me?’

      ‘Another ticket to the opera. I’m dying to see Patience, and Rose needs a chaperone.’

      ‘Munday is a working woman,’ Eugene protested. ‘The stuffy rules of etiquette don’t apply.’

      ‘They do in the real world,’ Cecilia said firmly. ‘You live in the make-believe land of those who purport to tell us the truth, when half of the things you print have no bearing on reality whatsoever.’

      ‘That’s a bit harsh Cissie.’

      Cecilia placed her arm around Rose’s shoulders. ‘Take no notice of him. We’ll go to my room and find you something to wear tonight, and I’ll choose my gown so that we don’t clash.’

      ‘My sister is a harpy,’ Eugene said, throwing up his hands. ‘Don’t listen to her if she says things about me, Rose.’

      ‘Shut up, Gene.’ Cecilia held her hand out to Rose. ‘Come with me. We’ll do very well without my brother’s assistance.’ She glided from the room and Rose hurried after her.

      Cecilia’s bedroom was spacious and elegantly furnished with a peach and gold colour scheme that created a feeling of everlasting sunshine. Cecilia ushered Rose into a dressing room lined with cupboards. The doors were faced with mirrors, creating a kaleidoscope effect, and Rose could see several versions of herself. She had to stifle a childish urge to pull faces, but Cecilia was in deadly earnest and she opened the first cupboard to reveal shelves packed with neatly folded garments. Another was crammed with ornate gowns hanging from brass hooks. Yet another revealed sets of drawers; some of them filled with lace-trimmed undergarments, while others were overflowing with gloves, scarves and stockings. There were open shelves filled with hats of every description, trimmed with flowers and feathers in rainbow hues. Rose was both dazzled and impressed, but also slightly bewildered.

      ‘As you can see, I love clothes,’ Cecilia said happily. ‘My maid takes care of everything, but you may have your pick, providing I approve.’

      Rose had never seen such a collection of garments belonging to one person – in fact, she had never been in a shop that was more comprehensively stocked. ‘Are you sure about this? I mean, you were pushed into it by your brother.’

      ‘Gene might try but he could never force me to do anything against my will. You have to treat him like your boss, but he’s just my brother. I’ll leave you to choose, try on anything you take a fancy to and come out and show me.’ Cecilia left Rose alone in the dressing room surrounded by finery that took her breath away. She was beginning to realise that the fashion in London differed from what was considered haute couture in Bendigo, and she began her search for something that was suitable, but not too elaborate.

      When she finally emerged wearing a pale-blue silk gown, with a modest neckline and a small bustle, Cecilia shook her head.

      ‘That’s an afternoon dress, Rose. You need something a little more dashing for the opera, and I think I know exactly which one would suit your glorious copper hair and milky complexion.’ Cecilia jumped to her feet and returned to the dressing room, reappearing moments later with a shimmering armful of gold silk brocade trimmed with delicate tulle roses. ‘Try this one on.’

      It was a command rather than an invitation and Rose retreated into the privacy of the dressing room and changed into Cecilia’s choice.

      ‘Oh, splendid.’ Cecilia clapped her hands when Rose re-emerged. ‘Take a look in the mirror and you’ll see that I was right.’

      Rose stepped in front of the cheval mirror, staring in astonishment at her own reflection, although to her eyes it was a stranger