Wallflowers Don't Wilt by Raven McAllen Read Free Book Online

Her poor husband had eventually lost patience with her and curbed her excesses, one of which had been the famed occasion where she had stood outside Byron’s house in the pouring rain dressed in breeches and shirt.
    “Nothing will induce me to wear breeches, Ivo,” Bella stated indignantly, and then blushed as she remembered one certain occasion involving breeches and a mad scramble down the ivy. Ivo saw the reddening of her cheeks. He had heard of that prank. He rather thought there had been talk of Serena wearing the same article of clothing, purloined from a footman, but if so she was being remarkably quiet about it.
    “Exactly,” he responded. “However, my love, I was thinking more along the lines of muslins and naught but, well, muslin.”
    “Did she really do that, Ivo?” Serena asked with interest. “I never knew that was also one of her predilections.” He groaned. Why the need for such curiosity?
    “I know not, Serry; I was merely generalizing. I would be pleased if you would both be so bold as to welcome me into your home wearing only muslin and a smile, encouraging me to excess, perchance?”
    Serena shook her head mockingly. “Ivo, Ivo, perchance you need no encouraging to excess; however, if we do, and I say if, agree to your plea, what do you give in return?” She blushed as both Arabella and Ivo laughed at her faux pas. She stamped her foot in mock anger. “Oh, you two. Spare my blushes.”
    “My dear, it will always be my preferred course to increase them. For both of you. I am desirous, you see, of discovering just how far that beautiful, rosy hue goes. Now sadly I must leave. Alas, I have much to do to enable us to enjoy ourselves to the full later; therefore, I must not avail myself of your generous offer to partake of luncheon. I will return at seven. With your permission, My Ladies, I take my leave.” He kissed both girls on their hands, and then with an audacious glint in his eyes, full on open, astonished lips.
    Satisfied that if nothing else, he had disconcerted them both, he ran down the steps of the house and made his way to his club to contemplate where he may find the perfect majordomo.
    An hour later he was well content. Scribbling a few lines on a sheet of paper purloined from the club’s writing room, he asked for it to be sent around to the address the girls now occupied, along with two bouquets of violets purchased from the ever-present flower seller stationed at the door to the club.
    An additional missive was dispatched elsewhere. He was extremely pleased with his afternoon’s work. A stroll through the library of the club, exchanging words with some fellow members, could usually be counted as a pleasant way to spend a short time, before returning home. As he did so, a friend hailed him.
    “Hey, Daranton, have you heard the latest on dit ? Lady Saltsey and Lady Dunsmuir have set up house together. Overton heard it from Lady Saltsey’s mama as he escorted his mama to visit. Of course, they could not leave her, prostrate as she was without offering succor. Then, as true friends, they called on Lady Dunsmuir’s mama to find her in a similar condition.”
    I bet they did, he thought savagely, although nothing showed on his face. Friends? Busybodies, more like.
    “Do you think they are more than friendly, or just eccentric?” his friend continued. “For we all know they are on the shelf.”
    “Oh, eccentric surely. For they have never shown interest in balls, outings, or such,” he opined in a masterly tone of disinterest. He found no reason to tell anyone that the shelf they occupied was one of their own choosing. Even less inclined to disclose that it was one he hoped to join them on shortly.
    “True. A shame really, for they are both beautiful, although I know of no one who would dare challenge them.”
    Ivo nodded and excused himself. Bastard. Although he knew it would not be long before the news was all around the ton , since there were no stronger tattle-mongers