Page 5 of Temptations of a Wallflower
“If there’s any reluctance on your part,” Lord Hutton continued, “consider this: I’ll increase your allowance if you uncover the Lady’s secret.” He took a step forward, his hands spread. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you,Jeremy? Doing whatever it is that you want. Perhaps the Church isn’t your cup of tea. Perhaps you’d like to venture into other areas, or even live the life of a country gentleman.” His father’s tone became more coaxing. “All those possibilities could be yours.”
His mind whirling, Jeremy crossed his arms and stared off into the distance. The life of a leisured gentleman held no appeal, yet if Jeremy had more money in his pocket, he wouldn’t be dependent on his income as a vicar. He’d have the freedom denied him from an early age, freedom to go where he wanted, do what he pleased. There were innumerable charities and benevolent organizations with which he could work without being limited by his Church-ascribed role.
Certainly none of Jeremy’s letters home had indicated how dissatisfied he’d become of late with life as a vicar. Oh, he managed his duties fine. Did them well, even. He fielded the usual number of complaints from parish busybodies who were perpetually disgruntled. Mr. Engle was never satisfied with the lilacs that grew in front of the church and wanted them pulled up to make way for sturdy juniper. Jeremy often had to mediate between neighbors Mrs. Litchfield and Mrs. May over disputes about whose goat belonged to whom.
Overall, he’d been made to feel welcome and had been readily taken into the community. He’d been to numerous dinners at his parishioners’ houses, and he was frequently positioned next to their marriageable daughters at these meals. Mr. and Mrs. Allen, in particular, seemed eager to pair him with their girl Adeline.
The last visit from the archdeacon had gone very well, too. No professional concerns marred his experience.
His father couldn’t know, but in truth, Jeremy was busy but bored numb. He found himself staring off into space instead of deep in prayer at church. He’d set off to pay visits, and then discover himself sitting beside his favorite swimming pond instead.
Guiding people toward realizing their best selves fulfilled him, but that comprised a minor component of his work. Most of the time, he felt constrained, hemmed in. That tight vise would grip him when he had to listen to Mr. Edgar complain about his gout, or when a young couple dithered over the name for their new baby.
Everyone—especially his father—expected him to behave a certain way, to be a particular type of man. Was he that man? He didn’t know, especially as of late.
He searched for something, but he didn’t know what it was.
Would money solve the problem? What his father offered was appealing, but that wasn’t what pricked Jeremy’s interest now. Learning more about the Lady, however . . . that was an exciting, tantalizing prospect. He’d read all her books—now he could discover more about her and the dark, seductive world she embodied. And perhaps, when it was all over, he could at last have the liberty so long refused him. He could travel, see the world, help those both here in England and abroad.
The fire popped, and he realized that he’d fallen silent for several minutes. Glancing up, he saw his father and uncle staring intently at him, awaiting his response.
“I’ll do it,” he said. He had a strong suspicion that the “Lady” was, in fact, a man. It would be a simple matter to track him down.
“Excellent,” his father said. His stern face cracked a smile as he came forward to shake Jeremy’s hand. “Whatever you need is at your disposal.”
“I shall keep you informed,” Jeremy answered.
“And while you’re in town,” Allam added, “please come to a garden party Helena and I are hosting tomorrow. It’s a bit chilly, but the last of the flowers are out, and Helena wanted to take advantage of them before the blossoms are gone.”
“Sounds delightful,” Jeremy said.
“There should be a nice selection of suitable young women there, as well.” His uncle waggled his eyebrows.
“Given that I’m on the hunt for the Lady of Dubious Quality,” Jeremy replied drily, “I’ll likely be too busy to go wife hunting.”
“Never too busy to find yourself a bride,” his father said firmly.
Well, that was a battle Jeremy had no interest in fighting right now. How could he search for a woman to share his life with when he didn’t even know what he wanted anymore? Much as he craved the companionship, he doubted he could ever find a woman who would truly understand his own complexities—especially whenhedidn’t understand them.
“I shall see you tomorrow,” Allam said.
Jeremy’s quest would start then. He’d venture into the realm of temptation, and perhaps, in the process, he’d learn more about himself.
It was a beautiful autumnal day, full of golden sunlight and elegant talk, but Lady Sarah Frampton craved nothing more than a quiet place inside, some paper, anda quill. She’d made her way indoors from the Marquess of Allam’s festive garden party, seeking solitude.
Pushed by an unstoppable urge, she eased her way through groups of people—an easy feat, since very few paid her much attention. There had to be somewhere in the marquess’s London home that was unoccupied. Somewhere where she could be alone and give rein to the needs that demanded to be met. Butwhere?
A gentleman of middle age appeared in front of her. She recognized him as Sir William Lewis, who, she had learned from her mother’s circle of acquaintance, was a baronet who had recently decided he needed a wife and had come out of country isolation to hunt for a bride.
“Capital day, Lady Sarah.” As he looked at her, his healthy red face had the same air it might have if he were to examine a strange animal brought to him by his hunting dogs. “This is quite a gala. Puts our country assemblies to shame.”
“I’m sure those gatherings have their own appeal, Sir William,” she offered.
He shrugged. “Suppose so.”
They fell into an awkward silence.
“Enjoying the Season?” Sir William asked. He clasped his hands behind his back, and she could easily picture him as a country squire, tramping over hills with his gun under one arm and his hounds trotting beside him.
