Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1) (20 page)

Knowing it by heart was not enough to
stop her from opening it again. Carefully, painstakingly, Tabitha
undid each fold of the foolscap and held it out before
her.

My Dearest
Tabitha,

Twelve years old! How
swiftly the time has gone. It seems only yesterday you were
bouncing on my knees. Now, you bounce your young cousins on knees
of your own.

Sometimes I worry about
you. I see a beautiful young lady who cares more for what others
expect her to be than she does for whom she wants to be. A young
lady who tries to please her father and her brothers instead of
trying to please herself. A young lady who hides shyly in the
background, checking constantly to see who is watching, instead of
shining in the foreground without a care in the world.

This is not the path to
loving life. This is not the path to loving yourself.

Be yourself, Tabitha, no
matter who is watching. Be the Tabitha I see when you are alone
with Josephine and Bethanne, the lovely young lady who is confident
and witty, the one who can make me smile just from hearing your
laugh. And always remember, the beauty you have on the inside is
ten times more luminous than the world could handle seeing on the
outside. We’d all be blind in an instant.

Let us see you
shine.

All my love,

Aunt Rosaline

By the time Tabitha finished reading
the letter for what had to be the thousandth time, she had lost the
battle with her tears.

Be yourself, Tabitha, no
matter who is watching.

How had she forgotten that one, most
important piece of advice her aunt had ever given her? Aunt
Rosaline had always done as she wished, without a care in the world
what anyone else thought of her for doing so. Some people ridiculed
her for her behavior, it was true.

But the people who loved her? They
loved her all the more for it.

Could such a thing possibly hold true
for Tabitha? She thought about the times she allowed herself to be
just as she was, without trying to force herself into someone’s
expectations of who or what she ought to be. There weren’t many of
them, that one thing was certain.

With Father, she did her best to
behave as a dutiful daughter because he required such
deportment—admittedly, she frequently failed—but she did make the
attempt. With Owen and Toby, she traded barbs back and forth (more
so with Toby, as he was her twin) because they wished her to be as
sharp-tongued and sarcastic as they. In polite company she remained
quiet, demure, and retiring, playing the part of the
well-established spinster to irrevocable perfection and even
wearing attire that was more sedate and shielded than fashionable,
because that is what society deemed appropriate for her lowly
station.

But were any of those accurate
depictions of who she truly was? Not if she thought about the times
spent alone with Jo and Bethanne, or with Aunt Rosaline. Not if one
looked at the times Tabitha spent with her mother.

With each of those women, the most
important women in her life, Tabitha was different. She was witty
and kind, and she laughed freely. She could behave like a woman
with confidence around them, with a certain assurance of her
position amongst them, without worrying how they would
react.

For that matter, she never thought
about her body when she was with them—she never thought herself too
bulky, too rounded, too...well, too different, as she often did
with anyone else. She just fit with them. She belonged. Something
she never felt with anyone else.

Was it because that is how they
treated her, or more because that is how she treated herself in
their presence? Could the manner in which she behaved truly affect
others’ perceptions of her to the point that they could make such a
drastic change?

There was one way to find out. Now,
two weeks before her nine-and-twentieth birthday, Lady Tabitha
Shelton was going to make a transformation.

She turned back to the first trunk and
pulled everything back out of it. She wasn’t going anywhere. Other
than perhaps to fetch Jo and head to the seamstress. Tabitha would
need some new gowns—ones more appropriate to the impression she
wanted to give.

The
beau monde
wouldn’t know what had
come over her—or them. In particular, the gentlemen.

Lord Devonport above all.

~ * ~

Noah didn’t know how he’d
allowed that conversation to become so unruly, so impossible to
manage. Lady Tabitha had taken everything he wanted to say and
twisted it to suit her purposes. Not that he could argue with her.
He
was
a fortune
hunter, though he hated the necessity of it. He hadn’t exactly lied
to her, though now that he looked at the situation through her
eyes, he could see that he was splitting hairs on that point. By
omitting the full truth, he had lied.

He felt despicable. He felt like the
lowest creature in all of England. He felt like the cur she had
accused him of being.

He needed to get away, to get some
fresh air and clear his head. Noah went out to Newcastle’s mews and
asked the groom to prepare his horse for a ride instead of
preparing his curricle to return home. Home wouldn’t help. Mother
and Glastonbury were there, sorting out wedding preparations. If he
went there, he’d be reminded all the more of his prospects for the
future and his mood would sour further.

No, Noah needed to ride. He needed to
feel the air flowing over his face, to experience the exhilaration
of leaping through the air on the back of a powerful creature.
There had been a sore lack of exhilaration in his life of late,
apart from those moments when he couldn’t tear his gaze away from
Lady Tabitha long enough to cool his lust. And since he couldn’t
act upon it...

When Perceval was saddled and ready,
Noah mounted him and took off for Rotten Row. The air in London was
not as clear as the air in Haverthwaite, but it would have to do
for now. Congested streets between Shelton Hall and Hyde Park made
it impossible to give Perceval the liberty to gain any sort of
speed. But as soon as they reached the park and trotted over to
Rotten Row, Noah dug his heels in to his steed and they were
off.

Gray clouds still covered the sky like
pillows of goose down, lending a chill to the late-April air, made
even cooler by the speed with which Perceval galloped. It felt
good. Soothing. Noah gave the horse his head and they went faster
still, until they were practically soaring past the other riders on
the Row.

After several minutes, they’d
seemingly left the rest of civilization behind. Noah drew back on
the reins and slowed Perceval to a canter so they could both
breathe.

Breathe. That’s what he needed to do.
He must remember to breathe in Lady Tabitha’s presence, because her
incensed fury quite literally stole that ability from
him.

But he shouldn’t even be thinking
about her any more. He ought to turn his attentions more fully to
Lady Cressica (he shuddered) or Miss Jennings, or some other
heiress who was not repulsed at the mere sight of him. Lady Tabitha
had made it plentifully clear that she would have nothing to do
with him. For that matter, she was adamant she would not marry at
all.

Yet how could he give up his pursuit,
when Oglethorpe and Eggerley had not given up on theirs?

Chapter
Eleven

“
Red,” Jo breathed. “Never
in my life would I have thought to see this from you, Tabby.” Jo
stood halfway across the room from Tabitha and looked her
appearance over from head to toe while Tabitha examined herself in
the mirror.

The rich, bold red actually made her
complexion glow, and her eyes glinted in the dim candlelight.
Hester had fashioned a coiffure for her with ribbons and jewels
threaded throughout her hair. She wore it down over her shoulders,
so that it fell in waves and curls to provide a hint of modesty
over her bosom which the single gold string of rubies could not.
The gown certainly wasn’t doing anything as far as that was
concerned. Tabitha worried that if she laughed too hard or bent
over too far, her breasts would fall out to be seen by all and
sundry.

But, no. Tabitha had decided not to
worry. She would no longer hide herself or hope to blend in with
the plants. She intended to be herself, no matter who was watching.
Just as Aunt Rosaline would want.

Tabitha could only imagine how she
would look beneath the sea of candles sure to be lighting the room
tonight. Sinful was probably a good guess. She laughed at the
surprise in Jo’s tone. “You helped me pick the fabric out, you
ninny. And you selected the design from Madame Duchesne’s fashion
plates.”

“
I know. But you’re
actually
wearing
it.” When Tabitha didn’t react to this statement, Jo added,
“To a
ball
.”

“
Yes, I am.” Tabitha gave
her cousin a wicked smile. “Do you approve?”

“
Heartily,” Jo said as a
knock sounded at the door. She looked over to Tabitha. “Are you
ready?” With Tabitha’s nod, Jo called out, “Come.”

“
Claremont got tired of
waiting for you two. He and Helen have gone ahead,” Toby said as he
stepped into the room. He looked directly at Jo as he delivered his
message. “Leith stayed behind to help me escort the two of you.
We’re ready whenever you are.” Toby looked past Jo and saw Tabitha,
and his jaw dropped. “Bloody hell, Tabitha, what are you
wearing?”

Well, if she could get that sort of
reaction out of her brother, she supposed the gown would
do.

Jo winked at Tabitha over her
shoulder. “Just a new frock,” she said. “It’s lovely, don’t you
think?” Jo picked up her reticule and took Toby’s arm. “We’re ready
to go now, Tobes. Shall we?”

“
I’m not letting Tabitha
leave the house looking like that,” Toby said. “Father would murder
me.” Tabitha rolled her eyes skyward, took up her own reticule, and
started out the door. “On second thought, I’m not letting you out
of this room.”

“
We’re already late,”
Tabitha said. “And not just fashionably late, either. If I have to
change, we won’t be there in time for the supper dance. Let’s go.”
She didn’t wait for his agreement. It might never come. Tabitha
walked through the door he’d left open and headed straight down the
stairs without looking to see if Toby and Jo followed behind her.
Jo would take care of it.

Tabitha knew the instant Lord Leith
noticed her. His eyes widened and an appreciative smile brightened
his dark features. Yes, her plan was definitely going to work out.
“Good evening, my lord,” she called out as she descended the last
few steps.

He lowered his head briefly in
greeting. “Lady Tabitha. You look exquisite this evening.” He
reached for her gloved hand as she arrived at the landing and
placed a chaste kiss just above her fingers.

“
She looks like a
trollop,” Toby groused from behind her.

“
She looks nothing of the
sort,” Jo countered. She continued moving until she’d passed
Tabitha and Lord Leith, dragging Toby along with her out the front
door and toward the waiting carriage, calling out so they could
hear her, “We should be off.”

“
Indeed,” Lord Leith said.
He made no attempt to contain his chuckle. “Shall we?” When Tabitha
placed her hand upon his arm, he led her off in the wake of the
others and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Don’t pay any mind
to your brother. He just doesn’t know how to react.”

Tabitha gave him a sly grin. “I rarely
mind him anyway, my lord.”

“
Touché.”

They spent the carriage ride talking
and laughing. Well, most of them did at least. Toby sat glowering
in his corner, staring at Tabitha like she had grown two extra
heads, or her skin had turned green and scaly and she was breathing
fire.

By the time they arrived at the ball,
everyone else had already taken to the floor. Tabitha scanned the
gathered crowd. Christopher and Helen were near the dais, dancing
alongside his brother Graham and some young miss. Bethanne’s
younger sister Miranda was dancing with her husband, Baron
Pickford, not far down the line from them. Near the other end,
closest to where Tabitha stood, her eyes passed over Lord
Oglethorpe with Miss Leatham. She didn’t focus on them overlong.
Finally, just before the end of the line, Lord Devonport partnered
Miss Jennings.

A twinge settled in Tabitha’s stomach
at the sight, but she brushed it aside.

Lord Leith led her in a
few steps further, and Tabitha felt the collective eye of
the
ton
turn in
her direction. Apart from the sound of the orchestra and the swish
of the dancers’ garments, nary a sound could be heard in the entire
ballroom as they all looked on her in wonder.

Her heartbeat increased, but she
refused to cower. Tonight, she would not hide. No longer would she
play the part of the wallflower, forever on the outskirts of life
and looking in upon it. Tonight, she might be noticed. That was
fine. Tabitha had every intention of dancing to her heart’s content
and enjoying herself. She stood as straight and tall as she could,
and allowed them to look their fill.