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

the species. Good God, I cannot even control myself in her presence, much less control her . I have an obligation to keep Miss Fitzhenry, well, contained …and it is just one obligation too many at the moment.”
    “Right.”
    “Pawly, it is obligation and nothing more.” Nicholas stood and moved to a window with a view of the sea, trying to pretend he believed the words himself.
    …
    Back in the main house, Mira flopped upon her bed and lay staring up at the embroidered blue velvet bed-curtains. She breathed deeply, exhaling through her nose in a long steady stream. Her hands were clenched tightly in the coverlet, and she was trying her best to compose herself.
    She was so focused on calming her frayed nerves that she did not notice Nan emerge from around the open door of the wardrobe, where she had been storing the last of Mira’s belongings, those which had not been unpacked the night before.
    “Miss Mira?”
    Startled, Mira yelped and sat straight up on the bed.
    Nan frowned in concern. “Miss Mira, are you all right?”
    Nan’s sympathy shattered Mira’s tenuous control on her emotions. Without warning, she began to tremble and tears coursed down her face.
    “Oh, Miss Mira, what is it?” Nan cried in alarm. “Has something dreadful happened? Are you ill?”
    Mira swiped furiously at the tears and sniffed inelegantly. “No, no. I am fine, I assure you. Heavens, Nan, you must think I am one of those delicate women who turn into watering pots at the slightest provocation. I am so sorry. But, honestly, I am perfectly all right.”
    Nan cocked her head skeptically. “Miss Mira, if you will excuse my impertinence, you are clearly not all right. You’re crying and shaking like a leaf. Something must have upset you.” Nan crossed to the edge of the bed to stand by Mira.
    With a watery smile, Mira reached out to grasp Nan’s hand. “There,” she said, her tone one of forced good humor, “we have known each other for less than a day, and already you are acting the part of a good friend.”
    Nan smiled slightly in return. “A good friend would insist that you confess the reason for your worry. These dour Cornish folk keep everything to themselves, grim-faced and silent as the grave. But my mum is Irish, and she always says that a trouble shared is a trouble halved.”
    Mira hesitated. After all, she had only just met Nan, and she did not wish to impose by being too open with her. And she could not even be certain Nan could be trusted. But Mira felt so alone here, so overwhelmed by the enormity of her predicament. After a moment’s thought, the need to share her burden won out and she sighed.
    “Oh, Nan, it is just that I am all in a muddle. I’m sure you know the rumors about Nicholas?” Nan nodded grimly. “You see, I have vowed—well, only to myself, but it was a vow nevertheless—that I will prove Nicholas’s innocence and find the murderer of those three young women before we marry. I must bring the true murderer to justice and lift the cloud of suspicion hanging over his head. Yet I only have a short time, probably no more than a week, to unravel this mystery. And thus far, every time I feel I am getting a sense of the truth, I learn something that leads me to believe I am all wrong. I cannot seem to square the facts given to me by other people—everyone from the gossips, to Olivia Linworth’s sister…even to Mr. Jeremy Ellerby—with my own observations of Nicholas. And I am not certain where, now, I should turn in my inquiries.”
    The words poured forth in a rush, and a wave of intense relief swept over Mira once they were spoken.
    Nan sank down on the edge of the bed, her eyes wide in a comical expression of shock. “You plan to investigate the murders? But you are a lady!”
    Mira smiled wryly. “As I have said, at the moment I am only a ‘miss.’ And I am a miss engaged to a reputed murderer. Under the circumstances, I think I can be forgiven for behaving in an unconventional