Page 5 of The Wrath of the Wallflower (Revenge of the Wallflowers)

Miss Olivia Jones had a singular reputation as the most sought-after laundress in all of London. The fact she conducted her laundry business from Goodrum’s Pleasure House, one of the most discreet but notorious clubs in London, spoke volumes as to her skill and the deservedness of said reputation. Such were her talents that London society chose to ignore her location in favor of the superiority of her service and the cache one might acquire having their laundry done by the young lady.

As much as Alice admired Olivia’s business acumen and envied her the freedom of running her own affairs, she found she liked the young woman’s confidence and character even more. She’d had a number of occasions to engage Olivia in conversation over her last two London seasons. They were friends of a sort being women of a similar age doing their best to make their way in life.

When the laundress came to the Duke of Chelmsford’s Berkeley Square mansion to deliver laundry or to pick up a special commission or to consult with the duchess, Olivia made a point of meeting her in the kitchens, sharing a cup of tea with her, and discussing all manner of topics she didn’t choose to discuss with her aunt. Things like ridiculous fashions, Olivia’s rascal brother, Dickie, and which lords and ladies were the most terrible, difficult, and in serious need of a good drubbing.

Now, as they sat at the little table next to the fish pond in Sinjin’s conservatory finishing off a fresh pot of tea and a box of Nathaniel Charpentier’s famous macarons—lemon this time, Alice feared she might be overstepping the bounds of their fledgling friendship. She’d recounted the events of the last two seasons and the things Stanton, Earden, and Weatherly had done to humiliate her, ending with yesterday’s tragic picnic. Sinjin sat on the short stone-stacked wall around the fish pond and said not a word. He’d heard all about Alice’s life these last two years through her letters. Although she noticed his expression hardening and his fists clenching and unclenching as she told Olivia the sad tale.

“So,” Olivia said as she placed her empty teacup onto the saucer. “What do you intend to do about it?” Alice gaped at her, stunned for a moment, and then she laughed.

“You think I should do something about it?” she finally asked. “I mean, take revenge in some way?” Alice tried to appear innocent and without any notion of revenge. Sinjin ruined her efforts when he snorted from his seat next to the pond, and Alice glanced back at him and grinned.

“I have always suspected you were no milksop miss, Lady Alice,” Olivia said plainly. “And you, Mister Perriton, the quiet ones are always the most dangerous.”

“I am simply a scholar and a hermit, Miss Jones. Ask anyone.” He inclined his head in an exaggerated bow. “In matters of revenge I always concede to the superior temperaments of ladies for such things.”

“Ballocks,” Alice said.

Sinjin went into a mock swoon, leaning back over the fish pond as much as he dared.

Olivia glanced from Alice to Sinjin and back again. “Hmm.” She smiled. “I grew up in Seven Dials. Revenge is not only a moral imperative in the Dials it is an art. Now, what is the plan and what part can I play?”

“You’ll help us?” Sinjin’s question, half surprise and half resignation struck Alice as odd, but she was too pleased with Olivia to ponder that overmuch.

“Absolutely. Those particular gentlemen are known as cruel, mean-spirited reprobates. Their servants despise them, their families coddle them, and you are not the only young lady they have made miserable. A humiliating comeuppance is nothing less than what they deserve. What can I do to help?”

Sinjin did stand up then. He indicated the path back to his work table. Alice led Olivia to the microscope and began to explain the beginnings of an idea. She and Sinjin felt certain if they could secret dried nettle leaves into the clothes of the terrible trio , clothes they would be certain to wear in public, that once they began to sweat the nettle leaves would come back to life. If their idea worked as planned Stanton, Earden, and Weatherly would be so besieged by itching and stinging they would cause a scene no one would forget for years.

Alice took a step back as Sinjin explained the properties of nettles and how he had deduced how they could be used. She watched Olivia and Sinjin deep in discussion, asking each other questions and tossing ideas back and forth. He was never more alive than when he talked about botany. He had inspired her to pay attention to plants, to realize they were living beings. He had taught her to see the beauty in even the meanest of weeds.

She rubbed a spot beneath her ribs where a sharp pang twitched at the communion between Sinjin and Olivia. The laundress was a beautiful woman with the most striking blue eyes. Alice had grown up plain and a bit gawky. Only in the last two years, with the help of Aunt Eleanor and Aunt Cordelia, Sinjin’s sister who was married to Alice’s Uncle Daedalus, had she come into her own. Her grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Breadmore, had dressed her in frilly, frumpy dresses in colors that did not suit her. Her father’s mother was a haughty woman who resented Alice for not being a male heir.

“Where did you put my waistcoat, Alice?” Sinjin asked. He began to cast about in his usual absent-minded way. Alice sighed and went to the chair at his desk where she’d carefully draped his waistcoat and jacket earlier.

“Here it is.” She handed the simple black and gold brocade waistcoat to him. His fingers brushed over the back of her hand as he took the garment from her which caused a shivery sensation to run through her.

“What would I do without you?” he asked softly. She gazed into his eyes. Had they always been so many shades of blue at once? Now they were a dark blue-grey like the sky in the midst of a storm.

“You would no doubt be wandering about hungry, in search of your spectacles, and half-naked,” Alice replied, a catch in her voice.

Olivia laughed as she took the waistcoat from Sinjin and inspected it with care. “Sounds as if you are fortunate to have Lady Alice as your keeper, Mister Perriton.”

“I suspect you are correct. I do think since we three are conspiring to commit mayhem together we should dispense with the formalities. I am Sinjin.” He shook her hand.

“Olivia,” she replied and returned to going over the waistcoat. This is Weston, yes?”

“Yes, it is,” Alice answered when Sinjin gave them both a confused stare. “And I am simply Alice. Can we do this, Olivia? Is it possible?”

The laundress finished her careful study of the waistcoat and smiled. “Absolutely. The leaves can be ironed into the inside of the lining of the waistcoat. Once their valets dress them in a fine linen shirt, the waistcoat, and a morning coat all will be well. However, when these gentlemen are out and about in the middle of the day, say at Lady Lavinia Norton’s Venetian breakfast on Friday? They will begin to sweat like dock workers and once that happens?” Her smiled turned into the most wicked of grins.

“Friday?” Alice began to pace. She tried to stop her mind from carrying her away on a wave of euphoria. That the plan might work and that she might indeed take revenge on the men who had made her weep on a nightly basis overwhelmed her. “How can we be certain they will dress in those waistcoats? How can we be certain their valets won’t find the leaves? How do we know they will even attend Lady Lavinia’s—”

“Alice.” Sinjin clasped her hand as she strode by him. He squeezed her hand and as soon as she looked into his face, her heart began to slow down. “Take a deep breath and give Olivia a chance to answer your questions. From her expression she has everything in hand.”

“Life on the streets,” Olivia explained. “You don’t survive without being several steps ahead of those who want to rob you, kill you or worse.”

Olivia was so much like herself, Alice often forgot what the young woman’s life might have been like before the duchess hired her at Goodrum’s and gave her a place from which to run her laundry. Sinjin released her hand and drew two stools over for Alice and Olivia to sit at his work table.

“Being a laundress brings a great deal of information to my ears,” Olivia said. “Not to mention having Dickie Jones as a brother.”

Alice and Sinjin laughed. They’d sent Dickie and Seamus to Missus Beatty as neither of those boys could ever refuse food.

“I happen to have the waistcoats and jackets of all three of those guttersnipes in my laundry with written orders they are to be delivered freshly laundered for Friday morning as the gentlemen will be needing them for a social occasion.” Olivia fixed Alice and Sinjin with a superior smirk as well she should. “I have several such orders from various households in Mayfair with specific mention of Lady Lavinia’s do. Which makes me think that is where Earden, Weatherly, and Stanton will be in attendance. What about you two?”

“Us?” Sinjin sounded alarmed. Of course, he did. He despised socializing with people. “Why do we need to be there?”

“Are you in jest?” Alice asked him indignantly. “I want to see them humiliated. I believe I have earned the right.”

“Agreed,” Olivia said. “But it would also be good for you to be there, Sinjin, in case our plan doesn’t work. You can watch them to see if it works or if it fails or anything else we need to know in case we need to try again.”

“Try again?” Now Sinjin was alarmed, which would be rather endearing if Alice wasn’t so determined. She patted his arm and turned back to Olivia.

“What about the valets? What if they suspect something?”

“I will make it a point to deliver the goods directly into each valet’s hands and explain that they need to dress their masters in these specific clothes. Trust me, I know these three valets. Two of them grew up in Seven Dials. I won’t say anything specific, but they will know.” She and Alice exchanged a look. Alice extended her hand for Olivia to shake, and they sealed their bargain. Sinjin made an odd sound of distress and they both turned to him at once.

“What on earth is the matter, Sinjin?” Alice asked. “What was that sound meant to imply?

“Terror,” he said solemnly. “Sheer, abject terror and the desire never to find myself the object of you two ladies’ vengeance.” He shuddered dramatically. “Now, precisely how much of the dried nettle leaf mixture do we need?”

Alice flinched at the twinge of guilt she suffered as she found Sinjin across the lawn. He had ventured to the buffet table to fetch some delicacies and glasses of lemonade for the two of them. A simple enough task for most of the gentlemen strolling about Lady Lavinia’s elegantly appointed gardens. However, for Sinjin any well-attended ton event was sheer torture. He had an abhorrence of crowds, and of matchmaking mamas, and of unmarried ladies who found him handsome, and of gentlemen who wished to discuss hounds, hunting, and the costs of keeping a mistress with him.

As he threaded his way through the various tables of people dining and the myriad other activities Lady Lavinia had arranged for her Venetian breakfast, Sinjin struggled to balance a large plate of food and two glasses all whilst avoiding bumping into people and throwing nervous glances Alice’s way. When he finally reached her and she took the glasses of lemonade from him she fought not to laugh at his beleaguered expression.

“Sit,” she ordered as she settled into one of the two chairs on either side of the little table they’d claimed just off Lady Lavinia’s back terrace. He dropped into the chair across from her and picked up his glass of lemonade to drain nearly half of it in one drought. If not for her every nerve threatening to jump out of her skin, she suspected she would thoroughly enjoy being here with Sinjin.

Lady Lavinia’s gardens were beautiful. The day had dawned sunny and grew warmer by the hour. The warmth of the air and the scent of so many newly blooming flowers filled the air with a heady much like the perfume of Sinjin’s conservatory. Alice sipped her lemonade and tasted a few of the items Sinjin had brought her.

“The crab puffs are wonderful,” she murmured as she cast a surreptitious glance about for the three men who had induced Sinjin to attend a social event.

“They’re over there playing pall mall with Millicent Rutherford and her friends.” Sinjin reached for the only little watercress sandwich and Alice slapped his hand away.

“You brought that for me, and you know it, Sinjin Perriton.”

“Then eat it and stop watching those three as if you expect them to suddenly burst into flames. They haven’t been here that long and the weather is just beginning to grow warm.”

“I know.” She bit into the sandwich and washed the bite down with some lemonade. “Dickie Jones is watching them from Lady Camilla’s table. He promised to let me know if he sees them scratching.”

Sinjin followed her gaze to where the formidable maven of Mayfair held court, her nephew, Lionel Carrington-Bowles, on one side and Mister Carrington-Bowles close friend, Nathaniel Charpentier on the other. Thank God her aunt and uncle had decided not to attend. Should things go as planned, Alice wasn’t certain she could keep her expression calm enough to fool them, especially her Aunt Eleanor.

She studied Sinjin as he ate and perused the panorama of London’s elite at play. Her stomach did a little flip. Her heart fluttered in her chest. He’d grown handsome in the years they’d only seen each other a time or two. His face was somehow more dear to her now. She was not quite certain why.

“Sinjin, no matter what happens I want you to know how much I appreciate you helping me with this mad adventure.” She mustered a smile. “You are my dearest friend, you know.”

He stopped in the middle of bringing a crab puff to his mouth and put the food back onto the plate. “Alice, I know I am your friend. I mean, that is to say, I will always be your friend and…” He stopped speaking, swallowed hard, and sighed. Something in the intensity and sincerity of his gaze settled in the middle of her chest, frightening and exciting. “I need to tell you something I should have told you long ago. You know how difficult it is for me to—”

“Don’t look now,” Dickie Jones announced as he suddenly appeared between them as if he’d sprung out of the ground. “But I think the show is about to begin.” He filched a macaron from their plate and strolled toward the center of the gardens, one hand in his pocket. Alice and Sinjin immediately began to peruse with their eyes the area where the game of pall mall was being played. Alice started to leave her chair. Sinjin clamped his hand on her arm and shook his head.

Lord Stanton had already shed his morning coat and was twisting and turning to remove his waistcoat. He danced about like a puppet on the strings of a drunken puppeteer. Weatherly dropped his mallet and began to scratch at his neckcloth. The ladies with whom they’d been playing pall mall backed away, shrieking. Alice leaned forward in her seat and tried to act as if she were merely drawn by the stir of the noise and the movement of those in attendance towards the commotion. A quick glance to her right, and she saw Sinjin attempt to watch without seeming to watch.

Suddenly Lord Earden erupted into a torrent of profanity certain to put some sailors to the blush. Several of the older ladies and even a few of the young ladies gasped and swooned. Gentlemen scampered about to prevent the ladies from falling to the ground. Alice snorted and quickly clapped her hand over her mouth. Earden ripped his jacket and waistcoat open sending buttons flying all directions. One hit Lady Lavinia in the eye. Another smacked Millicent in the face. He actually hauled his shirt over his head, which caused more swooning, and began scratching his chest and sides with both hands. By this time Weatherly was also down to his shirtsleeves. He snatched a pitcher from the tray of a passing footman and doused himself with the contents. Lemonade, perhaps?

Then it was Sinjin’s turn to snort. His shoulders shook for a moment, but he refused to even look at Alice. This was one of those moments when to look at each other would only make matters worse. A crowd had gathered around the three men. Suggestions were being offered by some. Others were chastising the three for their behavior. A great many were simply laughing at the spectacle.

Weatherly was the first to run towards the huge fountain at the center of Lady Lavinia’s gardens. He stumbled over the wall of the basin and submerged himself beneath the spray of one of the dolphins pulling Poseidon’s chariot atop the towering structure. Stanton danced across the lawn contorting his body as if having a seizure as he scratched and cursed. He soon joined Weatherly in the cool water of the fountain. One of the gentlemen in attendance seized Earden by the arm to berate him for his language.

Earden punched the gentleman in the nose and fled to the refuge of the fountain. The entire company in attendance soon formed a laughing, shouting circle around the utterly mad behavior taking place in the midst of Lady Lavinia’s Venetian breakfast. Fortunately, a scattering of guests chose to observe from their tables, heads together in discussion or pointing and laughing at the sight. Dickie now stood behind Lady Camilla, seated at her table. He jerked his head towards the townhouse.

“Time to go,” Sinjin said tightly. He picked up a last sandwich in one hand, rose and took Alice’s hand in the other. “Frederick’s coach awaits.” He devoured the sandwich and winged his arm at Alice. She glanced back at the spectacle. How she wanted to stay and see every moment of their humiliation. Sinjin drew her arm through his and pulled her along to the front of Lady Lavinia’s expansive town home. Seamus and John Coachman saw them the moment they came into view of the street.

Seamus had the door open and the steps down in a thrice. Sinjin bundled Alice inside and leapt in behind her before she could protest. The coach lurched into motion mere moments after Sinjin collapsed onto the blush leather squabs of the rear-facing seat and dissolved into deep baritone rolls of laughter. Alice lost the ability to draw in a breath as she laughed and drummed her feet against her forward-facing bench facing Sinjin. Tears rolled down her face and into the creases of her smile. She tasted their salty bite which only made her laugh all the more.

“Can you imagine,” Sinjin gasped. “Can you imagine the prints in the print shops? The stories in the news sheets? Who knew my little experiments could do…” He waved his hand towards Lady Lavinia’s London residence, growing smaller as John Coachman made good their escape. “That. Alice!”

She’d thrown herself across the coach and into his lap without a thought. With her arms around his neck to keep from falling as the coach bumped along, she pressed kisses to his cheek, his chin and his forehead before their lips met in a kiss that shocked them both if his gasp was any indication. She should have at least stopped kissing him even if being in his arms felt too right to return to her seat.

But then he kissed her back, deeply and with a hot intensity she wanted more than her next breath. He grasped her with his long-fingered hands on pressed into her back whilst his thumbs rested just below the curve of her breasts. She ached for him to brush her nipples to have his palms against her naked skin rather than the silk of her day dress. Alice moaned and as her lips parted, he slid his tongue inside her mouth. She made a slight sound of surprise as he caressed the roof of her mouth and then teased her tongue with his own.

“Alice,” he groaned when they finally drew apart to breathe. Her chest rose and fell against the soft wool of his jacket. He slid his hands down to her waist as if he feared he might touch the sensitive, full flesh of her breasts. His entirely too long dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks and then he opened his eyes wide. “I…Alice, I don’t know what made me do…that.”

His words stung. She patted his chest and moved quickly back into her own seat. “Think nothing of it. I won’t.” She managed a wobbly smile. “I would call that adventure a complete success.” She folded her hands in her lap. “Now, what shall we do to them next?”

“Next?” He still appeared and sounded a bit stunned from their kiss. He shifted in his seat as the coach turned the corner onto Berkeley Square. “What do you mean next?”

“Well,” she said as she twined her hands together so he might not see how they trembled. “Surely you don’t think one embarrassing episode is enough to punish them for what they did to me. I fully intend to visit several plagues upon them before my vengeance is complete.” She met his gaze and waited. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”