Secrets Of A Wallflower

‘Miss Martin,’ he called. ‘I’m so glad you decided to call on us.’

‘Oh, Sir William,’ she said as she turned to greet him. ‘I do hope this isn’t an inconvenient time. I just—well, I don’t quite want to go home and your office was so near.’

She smiled again and it was as if a ray of sunshine had suddenly pierced the solemn hush of the office. Her cheeks were glowing pink, tendrils of her red-gold hair escaping from beneath her hat, and he felt the energy flow through him from just looking at her. It was—unusual. Amazing, really.

‘Not at all, I’m glad you decided to come,’ he said, taking her arm. She smelled of those summertime lilacs, soft and sweet. Lord Ellersmere’s words, that a man needed a wife, flashed through his mind and made him laugh. He had the feeling that Diana’s sort of wife wasn’t quite what the man had in mind. ‘I was just thinking a cup of tea sounds just the thing.’

He took his hat from the hovering, curious secretary and led Diana out into the pale light of the day. The crowd on the street closed around them, noisy and bustling, always in a hurry, but he was sure she was the only one really there.

She glanced over her shoulder as the heavy door closed behind them. ‘It seems like a terribly important place. That sort of quiet doesn’t come cheaply and my father always says the calmest places are the ones where the most is happening.’

William laughed. That was another thing he found he liked about Diana Martin—her frankness. No one else talked like her. ‘I suppose it doesn’t. Come cheap, that is.’

‘What do you do there?’

‘Oh, a bit of letter writing, a bit of filing. Not much since I got back from India.’ He thought of the Prince of Wales and his always-shifting plans, of his aunt and uncle, and the Maharajah. ‘Nothing exciting.’

‘I don’t think I believe you. You’ve been all the way to India for your work, haven’t you? All sorts of interesting and important places.’

‘Even interesting places can be dull if you stay there long enough.’

‘Can they? I’m not sure I believe you about that, either, though I think I would like to try. Surely if you’re bored in Calcutta or Cairo, you can find an elephant to ride at the very least.’

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