Once Upon a Wallflower

For an instant, Nicholas’s heart froze in his chest, and then it began to hammer there, the insistent thudding filling his ears.

“Even if I could stop her from leaving, I should not. She has already threatened to expose my father and her life has been endangered as a result. For her sake and ours, I should let her go.” Nicholas heard his own words as though they were coming from far away, in a voice not his own, filtering through the pounding of his heart like a whisper through a closed door.

Chapter Eighteen

“You look lovely, Miss Mira.” Nan tucked another pin in Mira’s curls and smiled.

Mira took in her own reflection with an ironic sense of amusement. She did look lovely, as lovely as she ever had. She wore an emerald green, satin dress covered with peacock blue netting, cut low and square at the neck and secured beneath her breasts with gold lacing. Other than her wedding clothes, which she might or might not be wearing in the morning, the dress and the matching emerald slippers and wrap were the finest clothes she owned. Nan had dressed Mira’s hair with a broad satin ribbon of peacock blue adorned with a cluster of white satin roses and gold foil leaves. It was a simple style, but it was flattering, emphasizing her wide blue eyes.

It seemed ridiculous to wear such finery to an outdoor fair where they would eat meat pies with their hands and drink ale rather than lemonade, but Lady Beatrix had made it clear that, as the centerpiece of the Blackwell house party, the event should be treated as one of the grandest gatherings of the London Season.

So, for perhaps the first time in her life, Mira felt comfortable in her own skin and proud of her appearance, yet she could take no joy in the evening at all. Instead of dancing and flirting and enjoying the other delights pretty young women enjoyed, she would spend the evening solving a murder and perhaps running away from her best chance at happiness…running away from the shelter of Nicholas’s arms. Indeed, as much as she loved the stylish clothes, she wanted nothing more than to strip them off and hide beneath the bedcovers.

“Thank you, Nan,” she murmured, returning the young woman’s smile with a wan one of her own.

Reaching for her wrap, she studied her reflection one last time. She wore no jewelry except for the pendant Nicholas had given her, and that was hidden within the bodice of her gown, the long fine gold chain on which it hung the only evidence of its existence. On impulse, she carefully lifted the necklace over her head and laid it on the dressing table.

She was conscious of Nan looking on curiously as she searched the dressing table for a small length of narrow ribbon. Gently, so as not to damage the delicate links of the chain, she held a segment of the chain together and tied the ribbon around it, in effect shortening the length of the chain. With a fleeting smile Mira slipped the necklace back over her head. The pendant now hung above the neck of her gown, there for everyone to see.

She hesitated just a moment, and then opened her small jewelry case and withdrew Olivia’s locket, slipping it over her head so that it hung entangled with the jonquil pendant. It would look strange, perhaps, but Olivia should be somehow with her tonight.

Mira rose to leave, and, on impulse, threw her arms around the tiny maid in a short fervent embrace. “Thank you, Nan. Whatever happens, you have been a wonderful friend these last few days. The best I could have hoped for.”

Quickly, before Nan could respond, Mira dashed out of the room and made her way to the drawing room in which the revelers were meeting.

When she entered, there was a brief lull in the lively conversation as all eyes turned to her. She lifted her chin and managed not to blush, and soon everyone returned to his or her chatter.

Mira did not bother trying to insert herself into any of the small groups of people, but instead moved to stand near the fireplace, hoping to be as unobtrusive as possible.

Just to Mira’s left, Lady Beatrix and Lady Bosworth sat on a settee speculating about whether dress waists would remain high or drop lower the following season.

A flash of movement caught Mira’s eye, and she looked up in time to see Mrs. Murrish slipping around the periphery of the room. The broad, dour woman approached the settee and, without a word, handed a note to Lady Beatrix.