Authors's note: For this story I wanted to rewrite the pressed flower scene.
Evie Frye met Henry Green aboard the train, ready to discuss their progress and complete their herbarium together. Henry leafed through the pages of the book.
"Mignonette," he said, glancing at a page. "Your qualities surpass your charms."
Evie raised an eyebrow, smirking. "I'm not entirely sure if that's meant as a compliment. 'Love in a mist' — that's a pretty name."
Henry's lips quirked into a smile. "It's also alternately called 'Devil in a bush.'"
They both chuckled at the sharp contrast in the name.
Evie skimmed the next page. "Narcissus — self-love. I should buy a bouquet for Jacob," she quipped.
This earned another round of laughter between them, with Henry replying, "Most unkind, Miss Frye."
After a pause, Henry turned another page. "Dahlia," Evie said with a soft smile. "My favourite flower."
Henry looked at her, his tone more thoughtful this time. "It represents elegance, grace, and inner strength. It seems most fitting for you, Miss Frye."
Evie smiled, she could feel her cheeks turning pink. "Thank you. It reminds me of something from my childhood..." She paused briefly before continuing. "Back in Crawley, there was this beautiful flower field. I remember my grandmother taking me and Jacob there when we were five. She told us dahlias were our mother Cecily's favourite. I suppose that's when I decided they'd be my favourite too. It made me feel closer to her."
Henry's expression softened. "I'm sorry you never got to meet your mother."
Evie sighed, reminiscing. "For my sixth birthday, Grandmother gifted me a big bouquet of dahlias. But when Father returned, I never received flowers again. I think it was too painful for him. I'll always cherish the memory of my sixth birthday."
Her smile was faint, but Henry could sense the sadness behind it. After a quiet moment, Evie straightened up.
"I really should be getting back to work," she said softly. "If you need me…"
Henry gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll send a bouquet."
Evie chuckled. "Of irises, perhaps?"
"A message," Henry nodded, amused. "Indeed."
Later, Henry reflected on their conversation, feeling unsettled by the thought that such a remarkable woman had never received flowers after her childhood. Evie, as delicate and beautiful as a flower, yet strong and confident like a force of nature. He was honoured she trusted him with such personal memories, but he couldn't shake the feeling that a part of Ethan Frye might have blamed the twins for Cecily's death. That thought filled him with quiet anger at the injustice of it.
Henry pondered the possibility of getting dahlias for Evie. Was there a flower merchant in London who even sold them? But then he paused, wondering what he was thinking. Buying flowers for Evie Frye? Wouldn't that be overstepping? He felt a thrill at the thought though, realising maybe it was time to admit to himself that he liked her more than he had let on.
Evie entered the train carriage after an intense day, ready to find some peace and quiet. As she made her way to the front of the carriage, her eyes landed on the bed — and to her surprise, there lay a single dahlia, with a small card attached. She picked it up and read the message: "A little brightness for the tough days. – Henry Green"
She smiled, her eyes stinging slightly with emotion.
"I heard you liked dahlias," came a gentle voice.
Evie turned around, spotting Henry standing behind a large bouquet of dahlias. He stepped forward and offered them to her. "For you, Miss Frye. I was touched by your story. Thank you for sharing it with me."
Evie's eyes welled up with tears as she accepted the bouquet.
"Oh, Miss Frye, I didn't mean to make you sad," Henry said, his voice filled with concern.
Evie smiled through her tears. "Not at all. This is one of the kindest gestures I've ever received. Thank you. Would you be so kind as to help me put these in a vase?"
Henry grinned. "Of course, Miss Frye. The pleasure is all mine."
Author's note: Please look forward to Story #3. Coming soon.