Read Online Once Upon a Wallflower by Wendy Lyn Watson - Free Book Online

Jeremy Ellerby, sauntered into the dining room.
    In the bright morning light, the contrast between Jeremy and Nicholas was even more pronounced than it had seemed the night before. Jeremy’s build was thicker, less feral, his hair fair like his mother’s, his eyes a piercing blue. The ladies of the ton probably swooned over him, but, from their brief introduction the night before, he put Mira off. His animated good humor, so contrary to Nicholas’s temperament, struck her as forced.
    “Hallo. If it isn’t the little bridey. Sitting all alone. Now why is that?” he queried snidely.
    Mira pretended she did not take his meaning. “Lady Blackwell, Lady Marleston, and Lady Phoebe have gone to town to visit with the reverend’s wife. My family is, I believe, still sleeping… Our journey was long and tiring. I have not seen Lord Blackwell or Lord Marleston this morning. I could not hazard a guess where they may be.”
    “Ah. And Nick, the rogue?”
    “Nic…Lord Ashfield had some matters to attend.” She couldn’t keep the chill out of her voice.
    Jeremy helped himself to the food, still out on the buffet but all quite cold. He heaped his plate with tongue and kidneys and sardines, balanced three rolls on the top, and came to sit across from Mira. When he caught her eyeing his plate with mild alarm, he laughed. “I confess I eat like this all the time.” His voice dropped to an intimate whisper. “I have very large appetites.”
    She could only stare at him, wondering if she had imagined the innuendo in his voice.
    “So. My soon-to-be sister. What do you have to say for yourself?”
    She said nothing, still at a loss for words. His manner, while ostensibly jovial, struck her as aggressive. She was not certain what tack to take with him.
    Jeremy finally answered his own question. “Apparently you have very little to say for yourself. Well, I suppose in that, you and Nick are well suited. He’s a cold one, all right. Rude, some might say. But you have surely made that observation yourself.”
    A fierce rush of protectiveness steeled her spine. “Quite the contrary,” she declared, her voice clipped, “I have found your brother—”
    “Half,” he cut in, “he’s my half-brother.”
    “Yes, well, I have found your half -brother to be a perfectly delightful companion. And he has never lacked for conversation. Perhaps his reticence has less to do with his nature than with his company.”
    He fixed her with a knowing look, and his mouth turned up in a mocking smile. “Well, well, well. I see the kitten has a claw or two. And all on behalf of Nick. Fancy that.”
    Mira forced herself to remain civil while she struggled to control both her anger and her humiliation. “Sir, if you will excuse me, I wish to retire. At the moment, I am feeling quite unwell.” Without waiting for a response, she stood and began walking stiffly toward the door.
    “He killed her, you know.”
    Mira froze in the doorway, not daring to look back at Jeremy.
    “I cannot be certain of the others, but he killed Olivia. And I would have seen him hanged for it, but our father chose to protect him. Better to harbor a killer than to endure scandal, after all.”
    In a small voice, Mira forced herself to ask, “Why do you believe he killed Miss Linworth?”
    “Miss Fitzhenry, Nick killed Olivia because he was jealous of us. Because she and I were in love.” His voice was thick with bitterness, yet there was a note of truth there that Mira could not dismiss.
    The words hung in the air, a noxious cloud enveloping Mira and cutting off her air. With a small, desperate, choking sound, she lifted the hem of her dress and fled.

Chapter Seven
    Nicholas stormed into his tower room, his anger increasing with every step.
    Pawly was performing his duties as valet, in his own lackluster way, by desultorily brushing one of Nicholas’s evening coats. As he brushed away the nearly invisible specks of lint, he ignored the blaze of ochre paint sweeping