Wallflowers Don't Wilt Read Free Page A

needed.
    “Am I correct in my belief that you may be interested in my expressed desire earlier?”
    Slowly, both assented. “Nonetheless, Ivo, we need to explain a few things, ask some questions. We require the answers we so desire before we make any commitment to you.” It was Serena who gave their concerns. “For our first, indeed our primary, commitment is to each other. Always. We decided many years ago our interest was in each other and no one else. Not because we did not, how shall I say, wish to understand the mechanics of lying with a man, but because of a man’s predilection to subjugate a female.”
    Arabella continued, her eyes shadowed with thoughts perchance not pleasant. “You know our grandfathers were cousins and that their lands abutted each other? Our fathers grew up almost as brothers.”
    Ivo bowed his head in understanding. Force-fed the hierarchy of the ton from an early age, he could give chapter and verse on all relationships, close or not.
    Serena glanced at Arabella and gave her hand a squeeze of comfort before she took over the narration from her. “It seemed our grandfathers were of the opinion that to beat information into their sons meant that the information stayed with them. Had our mamas given them the chance, our fathers would have followed the same path with us. Neither, perhaps luckily, was blessed with sons of their own. Toward us and our mamas—neither of whom have ever, to our knowledge, expressed a thought of their own—each was rigid, unbending, and generally uncaring. Unneeded and, we felt, unwanted, we were both sent to Miss Miller’s School for Young Ladies in Bath. Our salvation. Here we were lucky enough to share a room and were able to talk freely about our lives and the misery our mamas were put through. Indeed it is our determination never to be subjected to such acts of disinterest.”
    Her face clouded, as if the sun had hidden. Ivo noted her blank expression was mirrored by that on the visage of Arabella. An inkling of their childhood began to form in his mind. Were their fathers alive now, he would have taken a vicious delight in dosing them with their own medicine. Would those unhappy early years be enough to mold them to the way they were now? He thought not. “And henceforth?” he prompted.
    Serena sighed. “Why is a lack of patience so ingrained in men?” she queried in dulcet tones. Arabella giggled, changing it to a poor imitation of a cough as she noted Ivo’s raised eyebrows. No meek and mild milksops were his lovers-to-be.
    “I fear I have no idea why the general ramblings and side tracks usual in the mind of a female should perturb me or any male,” he retorted. “Nonetheless, may I prevail on you to continue?”
    She stood and curtsied, mocking him. Minx. There was no graceful subservience there, merely mockery. He had no recourse other than to laugh. “I can see my life will be anything other but dull when we become a three,” he remarked. “I look forward to the challenge.”
    “ If we become a three,” Arabella retorted. “May we continue, Your Grace? Or wish you for us to digress further?”
    Ivo bowed his head. “I await your pleasure, my dears. In more than this situation.” He watched as Arabella successfully struggled to control her ready remark. Instead, she subjected him to what could only be described as a glacial stare, something her blue eyes excelled at.
    “Then, Your Grace, I will continue. Once we were at Miss Miller’s we found ourselves able to share confidences to a greater degree. Found just how negligent our fathers had been in our upbringing, our education of our world. Seeing how our mamas lived, we had both decided the married state was not for us. Neither of us was prepared to be subservient to any man. Neither of us knew there was any alternative.
    “Now? Well, now, Your Grace, we may perchance be encouraged to think differently.” She was silent. He saw the private glance that passed between them and felt