Page 21 of Temptations of a Wallflower
“A friend?” the man repeated, as though vicars couldn’t possibly have friends.
Just as he spoke, a very elegant carriage with a liveried footman perched on the back and a crest upon thedoor pulled up alongside them. The footman jumped down from his roost and opened the carriage door. He reached in and took a woman’s hand to help her get down from the vehicle.
Lady Sarah. She wore a pale green muslin paired with a darker green spencer, with matching ribbons on her bonnet. The color made her glow with soft vitality, her lips rosy pink, her eyes alight. Having escaped its pins, a curl of pale brown hair trailed down her neck. Jeremy caught a glimpse of embroidered clover on the ankle of her stocking and had to force himself to look away from that enticing curve.
She looked delicious. And he was headed straight for hell, the way he wondered about her long legs encased in silk stockings, and whether or not her garters were green, to match the ribbons on her bonnet.
“Am I late?” she asked.
Jeremy checked his pocket watch. “It’s just two minutes past two o’clock.”
She beamed, and her smile warmed him. “Excellent. I should hate to think I kept you waiting for long.”
The dandy had been watching this exchange with a puzzled frown. “There’s a connection here?”
“Lord Lynde,” Lady Sarah said to the man, “may I present Mr. Jeremy Cleland.”
The two bowed at each other, falling back on politeness. Lady Sarah introduced the blonde as Lady Donleigh, and the brunette as Miss Green. Everyone bowed and curtsied, which seemed rather ridiculous, given the way they had been talking about Jeremy moments earlier. Now, suddenly, he seemed to possess significance.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Lady Sarah said to thethreesome. “I invited Mr. Cleland to join us today. Itisa cultural activity,” she offered by way of explanation.
For some reason, the elegant trio looked a little mystified, glancing back and forth between them. Lord Lynde spread his hands in aNow what?signal. Lady Donleigh, the elder of the three, shrugged. They gathered close for a minute, whispering.
Jeremy looked at Lady Sarah. She looked puzzled by the behavior of her friends. Though they both gazed at each other in bewilderment, he liked looking into her eyes and sharing even this moment of connection.
Finally, Lady Donleigh said, “It sounds like a capital idea.” She fought a giggle as she said this.
“Yes,” agreed Miss Green, snickering. “Capital.”
Something was clearly going on here. What? He wanted to take Lady Sarah somewhere else, somewhere away from these people and their sly looks and hidden agendas, but societal demands to remain polite at all times bound him.
“Shall we go inside?” Lord Lynde suggested.
“Let’s,” Lady Donleigh said gleefully. She took one of Lord Lynde’s arms, while Miss Green took the other.
Lady Sarah turned back to her carriage. It was then that Jeremy noticed that her maid waited in the vehicle.
“Please stay with the carriage,” she said to the maid, then turned back to him.
Jeremy offered Lady Sarah his arm and exhaled when she placed her hand on his sleeve. Her hand was a light but burning presence upon the fabric of his coat. Just the barest of touches. There were layers of fabric between them. Yet her nearness beside him, and how she smelled faintly of jasmine, thrilled.
Sarah smiled up at him. Her smile wavered as she glanced toward the trio walking up the steps to the town house.
“Come on,” called Lady Donleigh—clearly the leader of this group.
Was it his imagination, or did Lady Sarah square her shoulders and draw up her chin, as though preparing to meet an adversary? No, it hadn’t been his idle fancy. She really did look prepared for some kind of battle.
“Let’s go,” she said to Jeremy. Determination firmed her words.
Together, they climbed the stairs.
Entering the foyer, Jeremy’s eyes adjusted to the dimness of the interior. A servant took his hat and placed it with a small collection of other hats sitting atop a long, narrow table. Lady Sarah handed the footman her bonnet, giving Jeremy a fuller glimpse of her profile and the curve of the back of her neck.
“The gallery is upstairs,” the manservant intoned, gesturing toward a winding staircase. Already Lady Donleigh, Lord Lynde, and Miss Green stood waiting for them on the landing, their eyes strangely hectic with suppressed merriment.
“They’re up to something,” Lady Sarah murmured quietly to him.
“Perhaps we should leave,” he offered.
