Page 2 of The Wrath of the Wallflower (Revenge of the Wallflowers)

Sinjin pulled on his brother’s black leather gloves and trod down the stairs into the foyer as quietly as his Hessian boots would allow. He’d had to borrow Reginald’s gloves as none of his own were suited to driving a carriage. The gloves he wore in his conservatory when handling dangerous or poisonous plants, whilst serviceable and protective, were not the sort one wore to take an earl’s daughter for a drive in the park.

“Are those Reggie’s best Weston gloves you are purloining to steal his new racing curricle, my hermit brother?” Sinjin tripped over the last stair and would have sprawled onto the marble floor if Frederick had not caught his arm and held him upright. He’d hoped to make his escape without encountering any of his siblings, especially his eldest brother.

“Could you please not creep up on a man like a Seven Dials cutthroat?” Sinjin asked as he pulled his arm free and took his hat and greatcoat from the footman, who suppressed a smile.

“Shall I fetch the basket from the kitchens, sir?” The servant asked once he’d helped Sinjin into his coat.

“Yes, please, Andrew. But be quick and keep it to yourself.”

“Keep what to myself, sir?” Andrew tapped two fingers to his brow in salute and hurried down the corridor towards the kitchens.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Frederick said as he followed Sinjin out the front door of their London townhouse. They both took in the bright red color of the curricle’s wheels and traces, glanced at each other, and shook their heads. The day was sunny for March, though the wind blew with an insistent reminder spring had not quite arrived. The day was perfect for a drive and a picnic in the park.

“Is there a purpose to this inquisition?” Sinjin climbed into the curricle and took the reins from the young stableboy who scrambled onto the small seat between the back springs. “I know Missus Beatty could not wait to tell you all about this morning’s excursion, so cut line and ask me what you truly wish to know before Reggie stumbles from his bed to protest my use of his precious new plaything.”

“I merely asked a simple question and—”

“From you there are no simple questions. Thank you, Andrew.” Sinjin reached back to help the footman secure the large basket Beatty had prepared for his picnic with Alice. Frederick was on the scent of something and Sinjin did not want his elder brother in any of his affairs, especially anything that involved his friendship with Alice. “Have you ever known Mister Perriton to ask a simple question, Andrew?”

“Don’t answer that,” the stable boy, Seamus, muttered from his seat at the back of the curricle.

“Wasn’t about to,” Andrew replied under his breath as he turned and walked back to the townhouse.

“I heard that,” Frederick called after the footman. He glared at Sinjin. “They only behave this way in your presence, you know.”

“Of course they do. I’m by far the least troublesome member of this family.”

“Very well, don’t tell me what you are about with Lady Alice. Give her my regards.”

“What I’m about?” Sinjin’s stomach did a flop. He didn’t like Frederick’s inference, especially as he wasn’t certain what he was about when his feelings for Alice these days came to mind. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am merely taking an old friend for a drive. Nothing—”

“Sinjin!” A third floor-window clattered open at the front of the house. “Step down from my curricle this instant, you damned thief!” Reginald hung out the window in his nightshirt, his hair a fright and his face an unbecoming shade of red.

“Go!” Frederick commanded as he slapped the near horse on the rump. Reggie’s team of matched greys broke into a fast canter down the middle of the street. Sinjin guided them toward King Street and then turned them up Half Moon Street, down Queen Street and onto Charles Street to stop in front of the Duke of Chelmsford’s Berkeley Square town mansion.

The house was within a brisk walking distance of the one he shared with his brothers, but he preferred to call for Alice in the carriage rather than on foot to avoid drawing even more attention to their excursion together. A ridiculous notion as every widow, dowager, and servant in the square would know by sunset. The lack of privacy was one of the many things he despised when it came to London society.

He had wrapped the reins around the brake and jumped down to the pavement when the front door of the elegant mansion opened, and Alice strode out to the gate, bonnet in hand.

“For goodness’ sake, Sinjin, let us be off,” she said as she joined him next to the curricle and put her foot on the step. “If Uncle Percy asks me one more question, I will not be answerable for my actions.”

Sinjin grasped her at the waist and lifted her onto the seat. She gasped softly and looked down at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “Hold on,” he said as he came round the curricle and joined her on the plush leather bench. With a flick of his wrist, he untied the reins and set the carriage in motion. She smashed her bonnet onto her head and held the straw confection down with one hand whilst she clutched the side rail of the curricle with the other. They had gone down Hill Street, Audley Street, and Curzon Street and were turned onto Park Lane before she spoke, and she was laughing.

“Are you so frightened of my uncle you would drive as if we are off to Gretna Green?” She let go of the rail and worked to tie the ribbons of her bonnet.

“His Grace is formidable to be sure, but I am more frightened of Reggie murdering me in my sleep. He was hanging out the front window in his nightshirt calling me a thief when I drove away.”

“I should have loved to have seen that.”

Sinjin turned to see if her smile matched the amusement in her voice. A mistake on his part as the sight of Alice smiling in the morning sun left him utterly speechless. The warm rays picked up the golden strands of her hair and made them sparkle alongside the various other shades of gold escaping the confines of her bonnet. Her bright blue eyes matched the early spring skies above them. He stared at her, dumbfounded, until the curricle hit a hole in Park Lane and tipped wildly to one side. With a muttered curse he turned his attention back to the team and steadied them as the vehicle righted itself.

“Goodness,” Alice exclaimed.

“Goodness? More like wickedness, Lady Alice Lister. Wishing to see my brother half-naked hanging from his bedchamber window. The very idea.” If he assumed the role of the stern older brother, perhaps she would not notice the heat creeping up his neck nor the lust in his eyes when he gazed at her for more than a moment.

“Half-naked? You didn’t say he was half-naked.” She flounced on the bench. “You should have driven us by your house on the way out of the square.”

“Incorrigible. Absolutely scandalous,” he teased.

“Your brother Reginald is considered quite the most handsome bachelor in London, you know. Hello, Seamus,” she said as she knelt on the bench and bent over the seat to rummage in the basket Missus Beatty had prepared. “When did you grow so tall? How is your mother?”

“She is well, milady. Lemon biscuit? Yes, please. Thank you, Lady Alice.”

Sinjin seethed at her admiration for his brother, but he nearly lost control of the greys when his eyes were drawn to her heart-shaped bottom outlined by the dark green fabric of her carriage dress. “Reginald is certainly the most rakish bachelor in London.”

“Biscuit?” Alice shoved a lemon biscuit into his mouth and took a bite of the one in her hand. “He does have a terrible reputation, but one must expect that of such a fine-looking gentleman. “Take another biscuit if you like, Seamus. Dear Missus Beatty has prepared a picnic for an army.”

“You two continue to filch my biscuits and I shall set you both down to walk back to Berkeley Square.” He’d missed Alice these last few years. He’d missed her laughter and her kindness and her ability to tease him without mercy and draw him out of his solitude.

“Says the gentlemen who filched his brother’s curricle for this little adventure.” She squeezed his hand and threaded her arm through his as he guided the team into Hyde Park. “I am so very glad you thought of this. I feared my last Season would be deadly dull.”

“Then we must do our best to entertain her ladyship, must we not, Seamus?”

“Yes, sir,” the lad replied and sounded suspiciously like he was speaking around a mouth full of lemon biscuits. Alice and Sinjin exchanged a grin as he drove the curricle through the Cumberland Gate.

The park was crowded for late morning. He’d hoped to avoid the crowds of carriages and horses usually on parade at the fashionable evening hours between five and seven. The sun was almost directly overhead thus the hour could not be much past eleven, noon at the most. They passed a number of open carriages carrying an equal number of dowagers and young ladies. Some gentlemen were on horseback either riding next to the carriages or stopped to engage the occupants in conversation.

The breeze blew gently for March and carried the scent of early spring flowers. Ever sensitive to the various botanical changes out of doors. He twisted slightly on the curricle seat in search of new blooms pushing through the earth.

“What is it?” Alice asked. “Are you looking for someone in particular?” She began to cast about herself in expectation of seeing someone they knew.

“Not someone, something. Daffodils,” he mused and then sniffed the air deeply. “And crocuses, your favorites.”

“Where?” She stood and shielded her eyes, nearly tumbling from the curricle. He tugged the back of her dress.

“Steady on. Give me a moment.” She sat down hard and fixed him with expectant eyes.

“This way.” He turned the horses toward the Serpentine. They rounded a corner in the carriageway and pulled into an open clearing along the bank of the lake. Clumps of both flowers were dotted along the edge of the water and down the path into the open space under some cherry trees that were beginning to bloom as well.

“How did you know?” Alice clasped her hands together and looked at him as if he’d done some wondrous magical feat.

He leaned close to her and whispered. “They told me they would make an appearance just for you.” Her eyes glittered like azure jewels. Then Seamus erupted into a coughing fit and ruined the moment. Alice snorted and shoved Sinjin’s shoulder.

“Such calumny and fancy from a man of science.” She hopped down from the curricle without his help. “Some botanical trick of his, Seamus. Which he refuses to share with we mere mortals.”

Sinjin secured the reins on the brake and stepped down to take the basket from the stableboy who was struggling to wrest it from the back of the carriage. He watched Alice bend to touch the flowers. Seamus, arms loaded with a number of heavy wool blankets, joined her next to the lake. When she explained the names of the blooms to the boy, Sinjin smiled. She remembered the scientific names after all these years. He was more pleased by that than any self-respecting gentleman should be, but seeing her happy and free of care after her encounter with those three wastrels last night was reward enough for any embarrassment he might feel.

“Right here. Bring the blankets, Seamus. This is the perfect spot for our picnic.”

Shaken from his reverie by Alice’s voice, Sinjin walked to the spot just beneath one of the cherry trees where she helped Seamus to spread the blankets in several layers against the ground still cold and a bit damp from the last bite of winter.

“Do you intend to keep Missus Beatty’s feast to yourself or will you share, sir?” Alice stood hands on hips and fixed him with her mock scowl.

“If I must.” He sighed dramatically and joined her and Seamus seated on the blanket where he placed the basket and began to rummage the contents. The cook had indeed packed a veritable feast. There was a large corked jug of lemonade with three tin cups. Sinjin cut a look at Seamus who grinned. By the time the basket was empty the blanket was covered with a plate of ham and cheese sandwiches on thick fresh bread, another plate of gooseberry tarts, several boiled eggs, sliced apples, the remaining lemon biscuits, and some of the cook’s ridiculously delicious meat pasties.

“I don’t know where to start,” Alice mused as she spread one of the heavy linen serviettes Missus Beatty had included across her lap. She filled a plate with some of each item which she then handed to Seamus. Sinjin allowed her to do the same for him before she made her own selections.

He never imagined watching his closest friend tuck into a picnic luncheon might turn into an erotic experience. Alice was completely unrestrained in her enjoyment of every morsel. Unlike so many women in London society, she evinced pleasure without holding back. The food was delicious, of course, and he managed to enjoy his own as he glanced at her between bites. Their conversation consisted of praise of Missus Beatty’s culinary skills and jibes about who was eating the most.

“Seamus is a growing boy,” Alice explained. “I remember you as being constantly hungry when you were his age, Mister Perriton. I know because I helped you to sneak mince pies from the pantry on more than one occasion.”

Seamus laughed and pointed at Sinjin, his mouth too full to talk.

“I seem to recall a certain young lady removing hot strawberry tarts from a windowsill whilst I stood watch at her insistence.” Sinjin placed his now empty plate back in the basket and refilled everyone’s cup from the jug of lemonade. “That same young lady burnt her mouth eating every one of those tarts and was ill for three days, as I recall.”

“Old age has obviously stolen your memory, sir.” Alice huffed indignantly and turned to stare at the lake. “I remember no such event.” She turned back and winked at Seamus. The horses grew restless, tossing their heads and stamping their feet. The stableboy was up instantly and went to calm them speaking in a quiet sing-song voice.

“He is so good with them,” Alice said. “I am happy he is still with you.” Seamus and his mother had worked at her father’s estate until five years ago when the earl had cast them out for some minor offense. She had brought them to Sinjin in the middle of the night and his father had taken them on at once.

“Seamus has a gift with horses. He’ll make a fine stablemaster one day.” Sinjin watched her as she watched the stableboy settle the greys with a few words and touches. She sat on the blanket her legs stretched before her and her hands braced behind her. The bonnet she’d tied with such care had fallen back to rest between her shoulders. “Mama taught him to read and write. Did you know?”

“In fact, I did know. He has written to me these last few years. Your mother suggested he do so and your father franked his letters. Seamus and I correspond nearly as often as you and I do.” She turned to meet Sinjin’s gaze, her expression mischievous and teasing. “Which is how I know what scandalous things you have been up to whilst I have been in London these three years.”

“You have found me out.” Sinjin copied her pose as he moved to sit next to her. “I am an incorrigible scoundrel when you are no longer in Surrey to keep me in check. My mother despairs of me most piteously.”

Alice snorted and rolled her eyes, but then she stilled and grew serious. “You spend all of your time in your conservatory or tramping about the estate gathering specimens in all weathers. You forget to eat. You’ve had pneumonia twice these three years past, once so severely your parents feared they might lose you. Why did you not write of that in your letters? Or have someone write to me for you when you were ill?” She clutched his arm. The concern in her tone caused his heart to race.

“It would seem there was no need as Seamus felt the need to send you a full report. With help from Mama, of course.” He wasn’t angry with the boy, not really. Alice understood at once as she shook him and uttered a wordless sound of exasperation. She’d never mentioned what she’d learned in her letters to him. Apparently, they’d both been keeping secrets, or at least trying to do so. He should have known she would find out somehow.

“You knew Papa would not let me come to you, as did your mother. Which is why I only learned of your illnesses after the danger was past.”

He made her no answer. As often happened when they were together there was no need. “You live with your uncle now. I promise if I am ill, I will write to you if you wish it as the duke seems a far more reasonable man.”

“He is the dearest of men.” She bumped his shoulder. “And if he does attempt to refuse me anything, my aunt talks him ‘round. Of course, I wish it, you ridiculous man. You are my dearest friend.” A sudden wind rustled the leaves and cherry blossoms overhead. The scent surrounded them and Alice tilted her head back, eyes closed as she took a deep breath. Sinjin’s gaze was drawn to the generous curves of her breasts as they pushed against the rounded bodice of her dress.

“Alice, I—”

“What do we have here? A picnic? How quaint,” the Earl of Stanton drawled.

Sinjin was on his feet in an instant. Stanton and his two cohorts, along with several young ladies, allowed their horses to crowd the blankets. Alice clasped his offered hand and stood just behind him.

“You must take care, Lady Alice,” one of the ladies mounted side saddle on a big bay said, her voice an annoying whine. “The ground is far too cold and damp for a lady to risk her health.”

The party numbered at least half a dozen and their horses danced along the water’s edge trampling the flowers and stirring up mud. The team of greys grew restless and Seamus worked hard to keep them still.

“I’ll try to remember that, Millicent,” Alice replied, stepping in front of Sinjin. “Please don’t allow us to interrupt your ride. Good day.” She dismissed them as regally as any queen and Sinjin forced himself not to laugh.

Weatherly tried to move his horse forward onto the blanket. Sinjin placed his palm on the horse’s shoulder and pushed the animal back forcefully. “If you cannot control a horse, I suggest you confine your riding to your father’s estate, in Yorkshire, isn’t it?”

“Says the man who fell from his horse more times than I can count when we were at Eton together.” Earden deliberately swung his horse around to knock Alice down. Sinjin lunged for the animal’s reins and the stallion reared, nearly unseating Lord Earden. The ladies screamed as their horses danced in the mud and tried to break loose. Sinjin turned Earden’s horse away from the Serpentine and smacked the animal on the rump hard. Alice pushed to her feet and stumbled out of the way.

Seamus leapt into the fray shouting and waving his arms, sending the other horses charging after Earden up the path away from the lake. Sinjin bent over hands braced on his thighs. He spat the taste of mud from his mouth and glanced back at the blankets now trampled and torn. The stableboy pointed to the water’s edge and then began gathering the picnic things and placing them in the basket which had somehow escaped unharmed. Sinjin saw Alice kneeling in the mud on the banks of the lake.

“Alice, did they hurt you?” He picked up her bonnet smashed beyond repair. She turned her head and looked up at him. Her face was streaked with mud save for lines where tears ran a course down to her chin.

“Look what they did to the flowers,” she sobbed. She had tried to straighten the daffodils and crocuses now lying flat along the side of the lake. His lungs seized. His chest hurt as if someone had plunged a knife between his ribs. He tried to put his arm around her. She batted him away and shot to her feet. “Take me home, Sinjin. I want to go home.” She stalked away and climbed into the curricle. Seamus hefted the basket and the tattered, dirty blankets into the back and climbed onto the seat between the springs.

Sinjin stared at the crumpled flowers and then gazed out over the lake. The scent of the crushed blooms wafted on the wind from the lake. When he turned back to the curricle Alice sat staring straight ahead, expressionless to anyone who did not know her. Her eyes, however, spoke of pain and humiliation and dear God he could not breathe at the sight. He strode to the carriage, handed the bonnet to Seamus and stepped up to sit on the bench next to Alice.

She didn’t say a word the entire way back to her uncle’s St. James Square mansion. He had hardly pulled the horses to a stop before she jumped to the pavement.

“Alice, I am so sorry.” He hated the weakness of the words, insufficient to convey what he truly felt.

“No, I’m sorry, Sinjin.” She swiped at her face which only smeared the dirt further. “I am sorry I decided to embark on this Season. I am sorry I involved you in this farce.” She managed a small but sincere smile. “I’ll write to you from Scotland. I fear I have had all of the London adventures I care to for a lifetime. Goodbye. Dear Sinjin.” Once she was in the house and the door closed firmly behind her, he turned the curricle around in the street.

“Where are we going, sir?” Seamus asked.

“Back to Hyde Park.”