Temptations of a Wallflower Read Online Free

clasped his hands behind his back, and she could easily picture him as a country squire, tramping over hills with his gun under one arm and his hounds trotting beside him.
    â€œThere’s so much to enjoy,” she answered, which didn’t actually answer the question.
    â€œThat there is.” He glanced around the garden. “It’s all so different from back home.”
    â€œI’m very interested to hear about your home,” she said sincerely. Right then, the country sounded delightful. Fresh, open. Quiet. Where a woman could be alone and not be subject to a hundred measuring gazes.
    â€œNot much to tell,” he said with another shrug. “Farms, fields. Sheep.” He seemed disinclined to speak any further on the topic, and it wilted like an untended crop.
    Well, not everyone was a born conversationalist. She wanted to give Sir William the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he, too, preferred the life of the mind. “Do you have a library at your country estate?” she pressed. A well-read man held pride of place in her estimation.
    â€œGot a Bible and an almanac,” he said after thinking about it for a moment.
    She suppressed a sigh. “Ah. Well, if you’ll excuse me.”
    â€œOf course!” he exclaimed almost with relief.
    She hadn’t walked more than a few steps when she overheard another gentleman speaking with Sir William.
    â€œDon’t bother with that one,” the man said. Sarah recognized his voice as Lord Pennerly, a young buck eagerly searching for a wealthy, titled bride.
    â€œWhy not?” Sir William asked.
    â€œPretty enough, in an odd sort of way. Got that nose on her, and that overlarge mouth.”
    â€œTrue,” Sir William mused.
    â€œShe’s the Watching Wallflower. Only observes, never participates. Always watching, thinking.”
    â€œDon’t like the ones that think too much,” Sir William huffed.
    â€œNo one does,” Lord Pennerly answered. “And she’s the worst of them. Find yourself a nice, sweet, sparkling girl, Sir William. You needn’t squander your efforts on the Wallflower.”
    â€œMy thanks for the advice,” said the older man, and they both drifted off to find more sparkling females.
    Sarah didn’t even bother blushing or feeling humiliated. Things like that happened with far too much frequency for her to feel anything beyond mild irritation anymore.
    A handful of guests lingered in a corridor leading off the terrace. Here, in the dim passage, people engaged in flirtatious conversation, away from curious, speculative eyes. Too engrossed in their own interests and dramas to notice one slightly tall wallflower skulking away from a garden party, no one paid Sarah any attention as she passed. She was glad at this moment that, to the ton, she was unremarkable. Had she been a diamond of the first water, and one of the lights of the Season, surely she wouldn’t have had as much freedom. And freedom—and the chance to write—was what she desired.
    Bypassing the retiring room at the end of the hallway, she turned a corner. The kind of solitude she needed wouldn’t be found amongst a bunch of gossiping women fussing over their gowns and hair. Instead, she glided down another, smaller corridor, testing doorknobs, the metal rattling softly beneath her gloved hand. Many were locked.
    At last, one door gave way. Sarah peered inside. The curtains were pulled back, revealing a snug, unoccupied room.
    Sarah slid inside and shut the door behind her. Unfortunately, there was no lock, but she supposed it might look especially suspicious if she opted to barricade herself inside a private room. Drifting farther inside, she kept one eye on the door as she perused her surroundings. There was a bookshelf with a few slim volumes, a settee, and, as she’d noticed, a little lady’s desk.
    No other invitation was needed.
    Sarah sat down at the desk and opened her reticule. She