Wallflowers Don't Wilt Read Free Page B

unaccountably left out, like he was missing something important. That, he determined, was something he could and would change.
    “So,” Serena took up seamlessly, “we were sharing a room, confiding in each other, and very sure where we did not want our destiny to be, equally as unsure as to where it resided. One day, I was requested to wait in the library for an unexpected visit from my father. Waiting for what seemed like eons, I came upon a little-read tome. I read it, assimilated it, and thought it may be for me; however, I did not feel able to share my learnings for an age.
    “My father, in his usual bombastic manner, informed me my god-mama had died and left me a considerable fortune. On his advice it was not to be available to me until I was five and twenty. Subsequently, I learned Arabella had her fortune with the same proviso attached. It was not until a particularly vicious thunderstorm which occasioned us to hide under the same bedcovers did I disclose all I had read on that dismal day of endless waiting.”
    Arabella giggled. “There was one particularly violent clap of thunder that elicited a shriek from me, whereupon I almost clambered into her lap. Imagine how I felt on perceiving how enjoyable that was.”
    “As did I,” solicited Serena. “On sharing my discoveries from that dusty tome, we decided to follow Sappho, see where our destinies lay. We left school, came out, and, er—shall we say—made sure we caught the eye of no male on the hunt. Of any age or capability. So here we are. Two wallflowers, not wilting but flourishing.”
    He laughed deeply, loudly. If he had his way, that flourishing would be done under his aegis, and no one else’s.
    “As you say. Until now.”
    Arabella nodded her agreement. “You may or may not realize, Ivo, but Serry and I, we share the same birthdate. As Serena disclosed, our father’s both chose not to allow us access to our fortunes until we reached the age of five and twenty or upon our marriage, whichever was the earlier. For those reasons already disclosed, neither of us is inclined to marry, for marriage between two women will never be accepted.
    “We knew from an early age we were destined to be spinsters, on the shelf, and then old maids. Happy, in love, loved, and fulfilled. Albeit spinsters. Tomorrow, we visit our respective solicitors, conveniently with chambers adjacent to each other. Sign any necessary papers and remove to our newly-purchased townhouse or perchance our country estate. Be happily shunned by the ton and start the rest of our lives together.”
    “With me.” He was adamant. “Else why let me see you pinkie link?”
    “By accident?” Serena offered.
    He scoffed. “No, my dears, by design. Of that I am sure. So tomorrow, after you visit your solicitors, perhaps I may see at least your townhouse. See if it is suitable for what I have in mind. What have I said that so entrances you?” he queried, for they both broke into peals of laughter.
    “Oh, Ivo.” Arabella giggled, looking much younger than her years, her long, brunette ringlets dancing as she did so. “You may not approve of the house or our taste in décor. Nevertheless, I feel you will approve of its situation.” She paused.
    Serena, her opposite with corn-colored hair straight and pinned closely to her head, continued flawlessly, “It backs on to here. The only thing between our establishments is the mews.”
     
     
    Chapter Two
     

     
    “Ah. You have purchased Clerrow’s house? I was given to understand it was acquired by a Mr. Woodson. A solicitor? Whose?”
    “Mine,” Arabella spoke. “On my behalf. Well, I should say, on our behalf. For we will be unconventional, and with luck, after the morrow will not receive invitations to those dratted ton events. But we will be elegant. We will lead our lives as we think fit, which includes a box at the opera, which may or may not include you. We may be avant-garde, but we will be unconventional women in the way we