Page 6 of Temptations of a Wallflower
“There’s so much to enjoy,” she answered, which didn’t actually answer the question.
“That there is.” He glanced around the garden. “It’s all so different from back home.”
“I’m very interested to hear about your home,” she said sincerely. Right then, the country sounded delightful. Fresh, open. Quiet. Where a woman could be alone and not be subject to a hundred measuring gazes.
“Not much to tell,” he said with another shrug. “Farms, fields. Sheep.” He seemed disinclined to speak any further on the topic, and it wilted like an untended crop.
Well, not everyone was a born conversationalist. She wanted to give Sir William the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he, too, preferred the life of the mind. “Do you have a library at your country estate?” she pressed. A well-read man held pride of place in her estimation.
“Got a Bible and an almanac,” he said after thinking about it for a moment.
She suppressed a sigh. “Ah. Well, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Of course!” he exclaimed almost with relief.
She hadn’t walked more than a few steps when she overheard another gentleman speaking with Sir William.
“Don’t bother with that one,” the man said. Sarah recognized his voice as Lord Pennerly, a young buck eagerly searching for a wealthy, titled bride.
“Why not?” Sir William asked.
“Pretty enough, in an odd sort of way. Got that nose on her, and that overlarge mouth.”
“True,” Sir William mused.
“She’sthe Watching Wallflower.Only observes, never participates. Always watching, thinking.”
“Don’t like the ones that think too much,” Sir William huffed.
“No one does,” Lord Pennerly answered. “And she’s the worst of them. Find yourself a nice, sweet,sparklinggirl, Sir William. You needn’t squander your efforts on the Wallflower.”
“My thanks for the advice,” said the older man, and they both drifted off to find moresparklingfemales.
Sarah didn’t even bother blushing or feeling humiliated. Things like that happened with far too much frequency for her to feel anything beyond mild irritation anymore.
A handful of guests lingered in a corridor leading off the terrace. Here, in the dim passage, people engaged in flirtatious conversation, away from curious, speculative eyes. Too engrossed in their own interests and dramas to notice one slightly tall wallflower skulking away from a garden party, no one paid Sarah any attention as she passed. She was glad at this moment that, to theton,she was unremarkable. Had she been a diamond of the first water, and one of the lights of the Season, surely she wouldn’t have had as much freedom. And freedom—and the chance to write—was what she desired.
Bypassing the retiring room at the end of the hallway, she turned a corner. The kind of solitude she needed wouldn’t be found amongst a bunch of gossiping women fussing over their gowns and hair. Instead, she glided down another, smaller corridor, testing doorknobs, the metal rattling softly beneath her gloved hand. Many were locked.
At last, one door gave way. Sarah peered inside. The curtains were pulled back, revealing a snug, unoccupied room.
Sarah slid inside and shut the door behind her. Unfortunately, there was no lock, but she supposed it might look especially suspicious if she opted to barricade herself inside a private room. Drifting farther inside, she kept one eye on the door as she perused her surroundings. There was a bookshelf with a few slim volumes, a settee, and, as she’d noticed, a little lady’s desk.
No other invitation was needed.
Sarah sat down at the desk and opened her reticule. She pulled out a few sheets of paper folded into quarters, along with a small silver pencil.
Relief surged through her, like the sweetest balm. She took a moment simply to luxuriate in the sensation of holding a writing implement, blank paper in front of her. Heaven. Exactly what she’d been craving all day.
After a moment, she began to write.
Lady Josephina surveyed the garden party with a sharp, predatory eye. She couldn’t stop the smile that curved her wide, sensuous lips. Sarah also smiled, much like her heroine. The story’s possibilities opened up like a corridor filled with doors, each of them swinging wide to admit her to another place, another world. Where to go next?
So many men to choose from! Which one would come home with her to share her bed? Or perhaps she might select more than one lover. After all, she was a woman of expansive appetites. Seldom could she find satisfaction in the arms of a lone man.
Oh, this would be a good one. Sarah could already tell. Her pencil flew across the page, muting the sounds of the chatter in the background.
Beneath her red satin bodice, her breasts grew tight and heavy. Josephina enjoyed the hunt as much as a lioness did, but it was in the satiation of her hungers that she found true satisfaction. Besides, her bed was large enough to accommodate an entire orgy if she so desired. She knew this from firsthand experience. There had been those Spanish sailors . . .
