The Wicked Wallflowers

by Tammy Andresen

  Annabelle cleared her throat. “What do you propose to do with the book?”

  Caroline studied the sill of the window. “Submit it to publishers, I suppose. What else is there to do?”

  “What if someone finds out it was us?” Chloe’s asked as she inhaled a deep breath. “We’d never live it down.”

  “You wanted to write this, you remember that?” Caroline turned toward her friend. Why did no one want to help her?

  Chloe stood, holding her hands in front of her. “I know. But I didn’t expect we’d actually publish it. I thought perhaps we’d lend it to a friend or keep it for ourselves. I wanted to give us a way to face the pasts that we didn’t discuss even with each other. You never even told us until recently that is was Lord Parks who kissed you. You can’t move on with your future until you’ve made peace with your past.”

  Caroline’s eyes itched with tears as she stared at her friend. “So you don’t want to publish the book?” Her stomach churned as her heart thudded in her chest. She’d thrown herself into this project. “What am I doing this for then?”

  “Don’t do it,” Chloe said. “Talk to us about what’s happened so we can help you to—”

  “Help me to what, Chloe?” Her hands balled into fists against her stomach. “Help me to find a husband?” She could hear her own voice rising. “I don’t get that future, do you understand?”

  “You might,” Annabelle’s voice was soft. “You’ve still got a dowry. There are men who will have you.”

  “Is that what you wanted? A man who will have you? Who will tolerate you because he needs the coin?” She turned her face toward the window, but she didn’t see anything. Her eyes stared, unfocused on the alley below.

  Neither woman answered for a moment before Chloe finally took two steps toward Caroline. “I’m just afraid for you, Caroline. You’re so kind, giving. I’m worried some man will try and take advantage. I would never forgive myself if you landed in a worse situation than you already are.”

  So that’s why they didn’t want her conducting research. Annabelle and Penny were strong enough to rake hunt, but Caroline wasn’t. “I’m tougher than you think.” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell them that she’d stopped Marksman and Helena kissing in the garden, but then she realized that, if they asked, she’d be forced to admit that Helena wasn’t being compromised at all. She’d been doing the compromising.

  “You’re very strong,” Annabelle answered. “Look at how you’ve handled Parks. With your head held high and your back straight. But you’re also sweet and straightforward and not a duplicitous person by nature.”

  Chloe cleared her throat. “Have you written your story yet? With Lord Parks?”

  Caroline shook her head. Somehow, facing those memories were just too painful. “I’ve read all of yours.”

  “Start there. Write down what happened and then we can discuss your feelings and what research you still want to do.” Chloe joined her at the window and placed a hand on her shoulder.

  Caroline frowned. She wanted to do the very opposite. She’d write all of her stories at once, after she’d gathered more research. But part of her knew her friends were correct. She was in danger of being hurt and so she’d need help. If Chloe and Annabelle wouldn’t help her, she knew someone who just might.

  Chapter Eight

  Marksman returned home, intent upon staying there. It had started to rain. Not a warm summer shower but a cold dreary deluge that foreshadowed the changing of the season. Autumn was on its way.

  Heading to his study, he saw his mother’s list on the top of his desk. He pulled out an inkwell and quill and crossed off the top two names then dipped his pen back in the ink. The next name on the list, was Lady Clara Brownwater. He sighed. He knew the girl, of course.

  Nice, reasonably pretty, very fond of sweet pastries. Not that there was anything wrong with that.

  “My lord.” Billings poked his head into the room. “There is a lady here to see you.”

  “A lady?” His eyebrows rose as he dropped the paper. “What lady is that?”

  “She didn’t say,” he said with a small shrug. “But she’s very pretty. Well-dressed too.”

  “Dark brown hair? Green eyes?” He clenched just thinking Caroline might be here. In his home.

  “Yes, my lord.” Billings nodded. “Should I send her away or bring her up?”

  “Show her up, please,” Pierce answered as he sat on the edge of the desk. “I’m most curious to find out why she’s here.”

  With a tight nod, Billings left again, heading back the way he’d come. Pierce crossed his arms, making a mental list of possible reasons for the visit. She was still angry about the garden party was the first thing that came to mind.

  Well, he had an answer for that. He didn’t know she had a secret agenda, which was ridiculous. The woman was far too beautiful and sweet to mix with men like Lord Cross.

  Billings arrived back at the door, holding out his hand in invitation as Caroline stepped into his study. He stood again. “You shouldn’t have come.”

  She gave a small shrug. “What does it matter now?” A small sigh escaped her lips. “I’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

  “That’s likely because you’re not acting the way a lady ought.” He pointed to a chair. “Care to sit?”

  Caroline lowered herself onto the seat. “What is the point of acting the way I ought? Where will I end up if I do?” She cast her gaze to the ceiling. “I’ve already made the mistake. I’ll now arrive at the exact same point, alone in a seaside cottage is my guess, if I come here or if I stay at home where I’m supposed to be.”

  His chest tightened, his mouth drawing down. He didn’t like that picture of her at all. She was not a woman meant to be alone. She belonged tucked against a man’s side. Hell, if he was honest, he pictured her against his. “Why have you come?”

  She cleared her throat. “I thought we might be able to help one another.”

  “Help?” His brows drew together. “How?”

  “You wish to look for a wife. I can help you with that. As a woman, I’ve spent time in powder rooms and at afternoon teas. I know what these ladies are really like.”

  He scrubbed his chin. “I know what most of them are like too. But my mother has written to the families of the ladies she’d like me to associate with so my choices are to meet them or risk making more enemies than my brother already has. So few families associate with us as it is, I don’t want to chance it.”

  “And when you’re done with your mother’s list? Is it not your intention to find a wife and repair the damage with an advantageous match? Did I misunderstand?”

  He shrugged. That was his intention but he did not like the idea of her accompanying him on such a quest. How was he supposed to assess the attributes of other ladies when the most lovely creature was already next to him? “You do not. What is it you want help with in return?”

  She pressed her lips together, sitting up even straighter. “You see. I am attempting to research a book.”

  He stared at her, his gaze narrowing. He didn’t like where this was headed at all. “Yes, a book on rogues. I’ve heard.”

  She started, her face growing pale. “You’ve heard?”

  “Terrible idea,” he growled out moving closer to her. “You are far too—”

  She stood, popping up directly in his path and nearly bumping into him. “Why is everyone suddenly so fond of telling me I’m too sweet and too nice?”

  “I was going to say beautiful.” He placed a hand under her elbow.

  She didn’t pull away as she looked up at him. “I’m going to do this with or without your help.”

  That made his heart stop. “Do what?”

  She lifted her chin. “Get to know more rakes so I can fill in the book.”

  He held in a groan. “It’s a terrible idea for any woman, Caroline. Not just you.”

  “I don’t care,” she answered. “It’s the one thing I can actually do with my life.”


  He longed to grab her other elbow and give her a shake. “I don’t believe that. You’re capable of doing all sorts of things.”

  “Well, I want to do this. And I’d like your help.” She lifted her hand then and laid it on his chest. “Please.”

  He clenched his jaw. She had a point. If she tried to do this and he wasn’t there…what might happen? And like it or not, he cared about her and if something happened to her…

  “I’ll consider helping you, but only if we make some rules.” He wanted to draw her against him, feel how her body fit into his.

  “What sort of rules?” She asked her fingers flexing against his muscles.

  “First and foremost, you are never to be alone with any of the men you’re researching. Ever.”

  * * *

  Caroline frowned. Agreeing to his demand would make her job harder. But she had to admit, he was right. She’d be safer.

  Which led her to a new thought, entirely. She was alone with a rake right this very moment. “Are you included on that list?”

  “Are you researching me?” He dropped his voice and his chin lower, the distance between them shrinking.

  “Good heavens, no.” And that was the truth. “You’re attempting to marry. That isn’t rakish.”

  “And trying to kiss you in the garden under the stars?” he asked. “Was that rakish?”

  Her breath caught. What was he trying to do? “I suppose it was,” she breathed in, drawing in his masculine sandalwood scent.

  “And kissing you now?” he asked.

  “Did you want to be in my book?” Her heels lifted off the ground, just the tiniest bit.

  He didn’t pull away but he didn’t move closer either. “No, I don’t.” One of his hands cupped her cheek. “But I know you think ill of me so I don’t understand why you’d want my help.”

  He cared what she thought? “You did protect me today and I…” She paused. “I do feel safe with you.”

  His face drew tight as his brows dropped low. “You do?” Then his thumb reached over and swept across her lips. “Very well, then. We’ll help each other.” His thumb moved away and suddenly, his mouth was over hers, his lips pressing hers closed as a tingling sensation raced from her lips all through her body. Just as quickly he lifted his head. “Not because I think this is a good idea but because you’re right. You’re safer with me there than by yourself.”

  “And because I can help you.” Though finding him a wife was the very last thought on her list of thoughts. Not that she had many. The top spot was currently taken with kissing him again. And again. And again.

  He quirked a brow. “That remains to be seen.”

  She clicked her tongue, stepped back, and he released her. “I’m a capable person, you know,” she said. “I’m tired of being underestimated.”

  “I have every confidence in you, Caroline.” He reached out again to run his knuckles over her cheek. “It’s myself I doubt. If my mother were here, she’d tell you that I’ll most assuredly ruin whatever good you do.”

  That wasn’t the first time he’d brought up his mother. “She sounds lovely, your mother.” Her voice laced with a sarcasm he rarely heard her use. For this topic, her tone was appropriate.

  He chuckled. “When I was ten, I got a wooden boat for my birthday. A toy one with a sail. I was ten minutes late for dinner because I’d had to fish the boat out of a river. She tossed it in the fire. Told me I never got anything right and I didn’t deserve toys.”

  Caroline held in a gasp. “What else did she do?”

  He shrugged. “I slept in the attic for a year when I didn’t properly hang my clothes.”

  She covered her mouth. “Why? Why would a mother do that?”

  His face spasmed then. “I still don’t know. I can tell you my older brother didn’t suffer the same treatment. And I…” He winced. “I honestly thought she’d like me more with him gone.”

  She reached out to touch his hand. “But she doesn’t.”

  “Hates me more than ever,” he said as he clasped her fingers. “Regardless, I’ll keep you safe while you look for your rakes. And in the wife hunt, I’ve amended my search requirements. As much as I need connections and dowry, I need a woman who will be kind to me and our children.”

  “We can do that,” she answered. “We’ll help each other.”

  She squeezed his hand again. She was glad they’d do this together. If she were honest, she liked him more each time they saw one another. Once he chose a bride, however, their relationship would be over.

  Her shoulders hunched. They’d agreed to find him a wife, that idea wasn’t supposed to hurt, but somehow, it did.

  Chapter Nine

  Pierce sat in the carriage as it rumbled down the cobblestone street. Chloe and Dryden sat opposite him.

  “So,” Dryden started. “Your solution is to help her do research?”

  Pierce eyed the other man across the carriage. “She’s going to carry on with or without our help. This seemed the safest option to me.”

  Chloe nodded giving him a glowing smile. “I agree. You’re very noble.”

  He looked away. Guilt clogged this throat. If he were noble, he wouldn’t have kissed her yesterday. That had been the act of a rogue. She was just so tempting. And not just physically. He kept telling her things, memories about his mother he hadn’t shared with anyone ever. Why?

  “By the by.” Dryden rapped his knuckles on the wooden frame. “You’ve a meeting tomorrow for club membership. If you’re still interested.”

  “Lord Dryden.” He turned back to the man next to him. “You’ve gone and done me another good turn. Pretty soon people are going to think you like me.”

  Dryden chuckled. “I just might. There aren’t a lot of men like us. We have to stick together.”

  Marksman rubbed his jaw. “I’ve made connections after all.”

  “You’re about to make a great deal more. The club is the only way I picked myself up out of the dirt. You can too.”

  That was interesting. The carriage pulled to a stop and Pierce climbed out to fetch Caroline. They’d begin their rake research tonight.

  There was only one rake, however, that he wanted her to pay attention to and that was himself.

  The door swung open and he stepped inside the foyer. The house was lovely. Tastefully decorated with cream wall coverings and gleaming wood furniture, the home smelled of citrus and fresh flowers.

  One corner of his mouth quirked up. This was the life his mother had been missing. How funny that Caroline was the woman living his mother’s desire.

  She appeared at the top of the stairs, an emerald green ball gown skimming down her body, her hair artfully arranged in a soft coif that begged for a man’s touch.

  The green of the dress brought out her eyes and, as he stared up, her soft lips pulled into a small smile. “I’m ready for tonight.”

  Yes, she was. More than ready, she was a vision in green. Rakes be damned, no other man was touching her. “You look lovely.”

  Caroline started down the stairs, a lovely shade of pink blooming in her cheeks. “Thank you.” As he held out his arm, she slipped her fingers into his elbow. “Have you anyone in mind that we should discuss before we arrive?”

  His brow drew low. “I do not know which of London’s finest gentlemen will be in attendance.” He hoped none of them.

  Her smile grew. “I meant for you. Are we meeting a particular lady?”

  He started, his feet moving by sheer will. As they moved through the door, he wanted to turn them around and bring her right back inside. How could she sound so casual about the idea of introducing him to other women? He knew it was the plan but he wished she was distraught over it. Even mildly upset. But her tone was almost happy. “I haven’t picked out any specific candidates.”

  She looked up at him, her mouth slightly ajar. “You ought to use this time wisely.”

  Was he getting a lecture? The only reason he’d agreed to this was to keep her out of har
m’s way. “My time will be put to good use.” The footmen snapped open the door and he handed her inside. “I fully understand what is important.”

  She bent down, her derriere sticking out as she made her way into the vehicle. He tightened. He had an excellent idea of what he wanted. Her.

  He closed his eyes for just a moment. Partially to block the view, but mostly to think.

  He’d wanted connections, but thanks to her, Dryden, and Harding, he was making them. He needed an infusion of coin but Caroline had that. His mouth turned down. He didn’t want her money.

  Bloody Christ. He’d agreed to help her flirt with other men when he wanted her for himself.

  * * *

  Caroline sat opposite Marksman wondering what had him in such a state. He glowered at her from across the carriage. He’d been short as he’d escorted her outside saying as little as possible in very clipped tones.

  Perhaps she’d irritated him by telling him that he should have picked some ladies out in advance? She hadn’t meant any harm. In fact, she wanted to avoid danger by spending as little time as possible in his company.

  Her attraction to him was growing by the day. Hadn’t she’d allowed him to kiss her? She needed to see him paired with another woman so she might put her feelings to rest.

  She wrapped her hands about her stomach. Just thinking about him with another lady twisted her insides. She brushed a hand across her forehead. He’d been abundantly clear that she was not a perspective bride. Caroline understood. She’d known the consequences of her garden kiss with Lord Parks for some time. They’d just never stung this much before.

  Her fingers curled into a fist, pressing against her leg. The man she wanted sat across from her and she couldn’t have him. Her mouth twitched as she held in a sigh.

  Stopping in the line of carriages waiting to drop off their passengers, Caroline’s belly fluttered with nerves that had nothing to do with Marksman. Another consequence she still struggled with was the cold greeting she received whenever she managed to finagle an invitation to one of these events.