by Rebecca King
Besides you. She hoped her thoughts didn’t show on her face and quickly turned her gaze away as she shook her head.
“Is there anybody who has made his interest known back in Yorkshire?” Trenton was a little unnerved at how important her answer was to him. Tension thrummed through him while he waited for her answer, although what he would do if she said ‘yes’ was beyond him.
“I have several male acquaintances, most of whom I grew up with, but I cannot think that they would do something as outlandish as send flowers to London,” she replied thoughtfully.
“I am positive that it is someone here, Trenton. We just don’t know who,” Adelaide added.
“If I am not being too presumptuous; what do the cards say?” he asked. If he was honest, he wasn’t convinced that someone like Ursula didn’t have a veritable army of suitors out there somewhere that she wasn’t aware of.
“I think the handwriting looks too effeminate for these to be from a man,” she mused thoughtfully as she handed him the cards she collected from her room.
A sudden knock on the door drew everyone’s attention.
“I’ll go and take tea with them,” Adelaide sighed when Isaac announced the arrival of several of Adelaide’s friends. “I will see you again soon, Trenton. Meantime, maybe you would like to come to dinner with us?”
“Yes, I should like that, thank you,” Trenton replied.
“Excellent. How about tomorrow tonight?”
Ursula gasped at Adelaide’s audacity but smiled when Trenton merely grinned. “I would love to.”
She watched the door close behind Adelaide then turned toward him. “I am sorry for aunt. She can be a little wayward at times.”
“I like her.”
“Oh, please don’t think that is a criticism. I adore Aunt Adelaide. It is just that she can be a little unexpected sometimes.”
“I don’t mind,” he assured her softly.
Now that they were alone he was able to study her more closely. She looked exhausted and fragile, and it was all he could do not to gather her against him for a hug.
“Please allow me to help you with this, Ursula,” he murmured as he flicked the cards with his index finger.
“I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted on a sigh. “I mean; how do I set about finding out who sent me the flowers? They haven’t done anything wrong. It is just slightly overwhelming to receive so many.”
“I know, but any admirable suitor would have made their identity known by now.”
“I know,” Ursula replied with a shiver.
Trenton thought about that for a moment. “When is the next arrangement due to arrive?”
“Well, about now actually,” she replied with a quick look at the clock.
Trenton nodded. “When it arrives, I shall follow the person who delivers it. When we find out which seller it comes from, we can make a few enquiries about who arranged for them to be delivered.”
“I want to come too,” she suddenly declared, perking up at the thought of actually doing something useful to solve the mystery.
She read the refusal on his face as soon as she had spoken and, in spite of her initial joy at having him there, felt her temper surge. It wasn’t his fault; she knew it wasn’t, but she was sick of everyone telling her what to do. This involved her, especially if the secret admirer was the man who had broken into her room last night. She couldn’t; wouldn’t, just sit at home and wait for him to report back to her like she was some helpless nincompoop.
“You would be better off staying here, in front of the fire,” Trenton said cautiously.
Ursula glared at him. “I have been cosseted, coddled, and fussed over so much that if I spend another minute beside the fire I shall go grey and cantankerous, and quietly out of my mind. I need to do something, Trenton. This inertia is driving me to distraction. This involves me; even more so after last night. I simply refuse to stay at home and do nothing.”
Trenton thought about that for a moment. He didn’t want to seem as though he was taking over her life but she still looked shaken from her ordeal last night. The last thing he should do was drag her half-way around London. However, given what she had just said he couldn’t exactly order her to remain at home like she was some half-wit.
“Alright,” he said. “I have my curricle outside so we should be able to keep up with whoever delivers them. If you fetch your shawl now then we can be ready when the arrangement is delivered.”
Ursula stared at him for a moment, stunned that he had given in so easily. She had expected an argument, not ready acceptance.
“Are you sure?” The words were out before she could stop them.
Trenton smiled when he read the gratitude in her eyes, and was glad that he had capitulated so easily. “I am sure,” he replied, and let out a soft laugh when she scurried out of the room in search of her shawl before he could change his mind.
By the time she reached the hallway, a delivery man was passing the arrangement through the door to Isaac. She quickly called Trenton, who issued a few instructions to Isaac before he swept her out to his curricle.
“Are we going to be able to keep up with him?” She asked as she craned her neck to see the delivery man.
“He has just turned right at the end of the road,” Trenton replied, lifting a hand to a coachman who stopped to let them join the traffic. “If we can get clear of these carriages we should be able to get within a few feet of him and stay close. As long as he doesn’t look back and notice us, we should be fine,” Trenton replied absently as he guided his curricle out of the end of the road.
Ursula was so busy trying to keep her gaze on their quarry that she didn’t notice the interested glances they drew from several passers-by. In particular, the rather spiteful gazes of Barbarella Somersby and Roger Brampton, who were riding in Brampton’s curricle in the opposite direction.
Trenton did though, but carefully kept his gaze averted. Right now, it was more important that he discover who had set about attempting to win Ursula’s favour with such determination. He wasn’t going to even think about Brampton or Barbarella. Although he would not say as much to Ursula, something was most definitely wrong with the sender of the flowers remaining a mystery. He just had to find out why he wanted to remain hidden; preferably before the intruder, if he was connected, made a return visit.
CHAPTER FIVE
Half an hour later, Trenton pulled the curricle over to the side of the road. He handed Ursula down and held his elbow out for her in a gentlemanly fashion that was more fitting for an afternoon stroll rather than the quest they were on. Nevertheless, Ursula smiled her thanks as she took his elbow.
They followed the delivery man toward the Covent Garden area. Determined to stop him before he went any further, Trenton quickened his pace.
“Please, sir. Might I have a word with you?” Trenton said as he hurried past, and planted himself squarely in the man’s path.
“Who are you?” the man asked warily, eyeing both Trenton and Ursula’s clothing suspiciously.
Trenton ignored the question and got straight to the heart of the matter. “My friend here has been receiving small arrangements of posies from you recently. One a day for the last three weeks in fact,” Trenton explained. He knew from the gleam in his eye the man knew exactly what he was talking about. “You just delivered one.”
“And?” The man asked cautiously. “Ain’t no crime, is it?”
“No, it is no crime,” Trenton agreed. “It is just that there have been some rather startling developments at that house recently. We need to know why you are sending the flowers.”
“It ain’t me, guvnor,” the man protested quickly. “I was paid to do it.”
“Who paid you?” Trenton sighed at the wariness on the man’s face. He suspected the truth would be hard to come by, but continued anyway. “I should be obliged if you could give me their direction. I need to speak with them.”
The man hesitated for a moment. “Well, I don’t rightly
know who they are.”
“Do they come to pay you daily or weekly?” Trenton persisted.
The man frowned. “What kind of startling developments have there been?”
“There has been a break in at the house you just delivered to.”
The man jerked and looked at him in alarm. “Well, it weren’t me.”
Trenton nodded. “I know. I am not suggesting for a moment that it was. However, we think it might be the sender of the flowers; the man who paid you. It is a little unusual for arrangements to be sent each day for three whole weeks, yet the sender hasn’t seen fit to give her his name,” Trenton argued. “Given the break-in last night, I am sure you can understand our concerns that the sender may not have honourable intentions.”
The man considered that for a moment and appeared to come to the same conclusion. After several moments of quiet contemplation he shrugged unconcernedly.
“He comes to see me every other day. He gives me the cards and pays me extra to deliver the posies to her door.” He eyed Ursula curiously.
“Has he paid you for tomorrow?”
The man nodded, and drew a small card out of his jacket pocket. He handed it to Trenton and then stood back to resume his perusal of Ursula. She tried not to squirm beneath that penetrating gaze and turned her attention to the card Trenton held. It was penned in exactly the same script as the cards in the study at Adelaide’s house. She looked at Trenton who nodded thoughtfully at her.
“Do you have his direction?” Trenton asked hopefully.
Unsurprisingly, the man shook his head.
“He came to find you at Covent Garden?”
“My daughters sell them there. He approached my eldest one day and asked her to deliver a posy to your house.” He nodded to Ursula. “I did it ‘cos it ain’t something I want her doing.”
“Can you remember what he looked like?” Trenton asked. “I take it that a man arranged for them to be delivered?”
The man jerked. “Did you expect it to be a lady?” he asked in astonishment.
Ursula winced. “No.”
“What did he look like? Can you remember?” Trenton was positive the man must know something.
“Well, he was fairly nondescript I suppose. He was about your height, ma’am, and had dark hair.”
“Was his voice cultured?” Trenton was still reluctant to relinquish the idea that it could be someone from Yorkshire.
“He spoke like you, yes,” the man countered.
“What colour were his eyes?” Ursula asked, but sighed in defeat when the man merely shrugged.
“I don’t know, I didn’t notice, and that’s a fact.” Clearly growing bored with so many questions, the man looked impatiently at them and shifted his weight as though eager to be on his way. “Is there anything else?”
“Yes, please don’t send any more,” Ursula replied snippily. “I don’t know who the sender is, and the flowers are certainly not welcome. Please don’t put yourself to the time or the trouble.”
“But I have already been paid to send tomorrow’s,” the man protested.
“Then keep the money to one side, with the card. If the man returns and wants to know why the flowers haven’t been delivered, please give him my card and tell him to call upon me at his earliest convenience. If he doesn’t come back within, say, a week, then keep the money and make a profit,” Trenton ordered.
“Please don’t send any more,” Ursula added. “I really don’t want them. They are making me nervous because I don’t know who is paying you for them.”
The man looked at her somewhat sympathetically. “Then I shall refrain from delivering again,” he replied briskly.
Satisfied that they had done all they could for now, Trenton thanked the man and escorted Ursula back out to the curricle. Once she was settled aboard he turned the conveyance around, but headed in the opposite direction to Adelaide’s house.
“Do you want to go for a drive before we head back?”
Delight coursed through her at the prospect, not least because it meant she could spend a little time with Trenton. She nodded enthusiastically and settled back against the seat, a little awed at just how much she loved to be with him. Although she warned herself that it would be best if she kept her distance from him, there was no harm in taking a short ride in the carriage with him, was there?
As they trundled along, she tried to keep her gaze off the road beneath them. She had never ridden in a curricle before and it was as worrying as it was unnerving. They were so high off the ground that she was positive they were going to tip over at any moment, but of course they didn’t. Instead, they rode through one street after another until she began to relax against the plush seat to savour the sights and sounds of London. Being so high gave her an entirely different perspective to the one she had walking along the crowded pavements. It gave her the rare opportunity to study her surroundings without having to think about every thought and movement, and it was wonderfully liberating.
“Are you warm enough?” Trenton murmured, smiling at the delight on her face.
“I am fine, thank you. This is wonderful,” she enthused. Unabashed, she grinned openly at him before she turned her attention back to the passing scenery.
“I often come this way when I want some time to myself to think,” he confessed with a smile when they were many miles from Adelaide’s house.
“It’s wonderful just to be free for a while,” she replied. She threw him a somewhat rueful glance. “I have to confess that I haven’t seen much of London while I have been here.”
“Have you not? Why?” he asked, startled by her confession.
“I have seen a lot of people’s drawing rooms, ball rooms, music rooms, but nary a theatre or any of the sights. I have yet to see the Tower of London properly, and have only glanced at Covent Garden while passing on the way to a ball.”
“Then we shall endeavour to change that before you return to Yorkshire,” he declared firmly. “I should be honoured if you would allow me to show you the sights while you are here.”
If only so I can spend some time with you and further our acquaintance without the prying eyes of the ton watching, he added silently.
Now that he had spent some time in her company, he wanted to know all there was to know about the girl who had grown into a stunningly beautiful woman. It was a little strange to think of Ursula, the somewhat shy young girl he had adored from afar for so long, blazing a trail across London. If he was honest, he wasn’t entirely happy about it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her in London; far from it. As far as he was concerned though, the only suitor who was going to show her the sights of London was going to be him. He didn’t want anyone else to spend any time with her and if the gossips began to speculate about them, so be it.
“Would you allow me to escort you around the sights while you are here?” he asked again when she didn’t appear to have heard him.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded when he saw her hesitate. “I promise I shall be a good guide.”
“I would love you to,” she replied honestly. “I just don’t want to cause you any problems by being seen out with me.”
“We are old acquaintances,” he countered. “What difficulty could there be in my showing you London while you are here?”
“Well, your fiancé might not like it,” she replied with an air of reluctance. Even saying the words hurt. It was ridiculous really because Trenton had never been hers in the first place. She was aware that her voice betrayed the emotion she struggled to hide but she couldn’t take the words back.
“Barbarella?”
“I am not suggesting anything untoward in your offer,” she added quickly. “It is just that you are engaged and, well, nobody knows me. As far as anyone is concerned, I am a single, unchaperoned female.” She gestured to the curricle they sat in. “Knowing London and its strictures, I am probably committing several scandalous faux pas just sitting here like this with you.”
“Well, I don’t know about
you but I see no reason in giving any gossips the opportunity to object. People will talk about others behind their backs, you know, no matter what they do. People will often criticise others, just because they can. They even talk about people who are generally considered to have done nothing worth talking about. I don’t think you should concern yourself over gossip given that you are due to go back to Yorkshire shortly.”
“Oh, but I am not returning just yet,” she countered. “Aunt Adelaide has asked me if I would like to stay with her for a while longer, and I have accepted.”
“What does your father have to say about it?” he asked. Given his last conversation with Jeremiah, he doubted that the man had even been consulted about the decision, much less been given the opportunity to give his permission.
“Father doesn’t get a say,” Ursula snorted.
His brows shot up. “Are you sure?” He immediately winced when she glared at him.
“I am not some meek mannered miss who needs to be cosseted throughout the day. I am four and twenty, and perfectly capable of making my own mind up about where I want to go thank you very much,” she snapped.
“I am not suggesting otherwise,” Trenton soothed. “It is just that I understand your father gave you one month to find a husband or he would select one for you.”
“I shall do no such thing,” she bit out coldly. “I am not going to be forced up the aisle by my father, or anyone else for that matter. Aunt Adelaide has offered me a place to live. I shall stay there until father sees sense and ceases with his ridiculous notion that I need to be married.”
Trenton knew he had touched on a raw nerve from the outraged look on her face, and lapsed into thoughtful silence while she calmed down.
“Have you informed your father of your decision yet?” he asked after several moments of stilted silence.