Secrets Of A Wallflower

Well, well. William remembered Diana saying how much she wanted to see Paris. Maybe she was doing something about it. How very modern of her.

He smiled and tucked the notebook inside his evening jacket. He would have to make sure it was returned to its owner. Very soon.

* * *

‘There you are, Di! Where did you go off to?’ Emily called as Diana slipped back into the ballroom.

She hoped she hadn’t been missed by anyone but her friends. She scanned the crowd and was quite relieved to see her mother still in her chair and Lord Thursby nowhere to be seen. Neither was Lady Smythe-Tomas.

She turned to smile at Emily, whose cheeks were pink from all her dancing. ‘Just needed a bit of air.’

‘Well, you didn’t miss much, except the fact that this ballroom has become even more of a crush and someone tore the ribbon on my hem with their clumsy dancing shoes. But no drunken fisticuffs or dramatic broken engagements yet.’

Diana laughed weakly and took an offered glass of liquid. She sipped a bit and winced in disappointment. Lemon squash, not champagne. ‘That sounds rather dull.’

‘Yes, but the dancing is lovely. I’ll say this for the Duchess—she always hires the best orchestras.’ Emily reached out and plucked something from Diana’s hair. She held it up; it was a shred of newsprint. ‘Where did you find this bit of air?’

Diana thought quickly. It was always best to be honest, even if it wasn’t all the way. ‘Oh—in the library. It was nice and quiet, and I was able to read a bit about Paris in the Duke’s newspapers.’

Emily leaned closer, her eyes wide. ‘Any word yet?’ she whispered. ‘From the magazine?’

Diana shook her head, feeling the sick excitement, fear and hope deep in the pit of her stomach that had sat there ever since she mailed off the letter of application. ‘I have an interview tomorrow with the editor. Isn’t it amazing?’

‘An interview?’ Emily clapped her hands in delight. She knew more about running a business than anyone Diana knew, male or female, after years of helping at her father’s offices. She took it all very seriously and had given Diana a great deal of advice ever since Di decided she was the best confidante. ‘Shouldn’t you be at home resting, then? You have to be sharp tomorrow.’

‘Oh, I know. But Mama would never have let me miss the Waverton ball and I’m much too nervous to sleep. I was hoping to get a bit of fashion news to add to my portfolio. I did write a bit, you see...’ She opened her reticule to take out the notebook to show Emily. To her shock, she found only a handkerchief and her discarded dance card. ‘Blast,’ she gasped, remembering dropping the bag.

‘What is it?’

‘I’ve lost the notebook.’

‘What’s amiss?’ Alex asked as she appeared from the crowd and hurried to their side. She always did seem to sense the feelings of the people around her, especially if they were distressed, even from across the room.

‘Di lost her notebook,’ Emily said.

‘No!’ Alex cried. She and Emily knew all the bits and pieces in that book, so carefully gathered and recorded. They had even helped with much of it. ‘Here in the ballroom? But anyone could find it.’

Diana shook her head. ‘I had it in the library. I must have dropped it in there.’ In the library—with William. What if he found it? What would he think?

‘Diana! There you are at last,’ she heard her mother call. This time there was no evading her.

Diana forced a smile on to her lips and turned to see her mother making her way towards them. With her was Lord Thursby.

Diana had to admit he was handsome, with his fair hair pomaded to a shine, his stylish moustache and well-cut clothes. He smiled charmingly and was solicitous as he led her mother through the crowd. But she wished he would just—just go away!

Yet she knew very well there was no chance of that.

‘I will go look for it,’ Alexandra whispered. She and Emily vanished beyond the dance floor.

‘Diana,’ her mother demanded again, ‘where on earth have you been?’

‘I was just—dancing. We’re at a ball, you know, Mama,’ she said, trying to laugh carelessly. She fanned herself vigorously, wishing Lord Thursby was not watching her so closely.

‘Lord Thursby was looking for you. He says you promised him the supper dance,’ her mother said, reaching out to fuss with Diana’s tulle-edged sleeve. She drew away, wondering if she had newsprint caught there, too.

‘The supper dance?’ she said. That meant spending the midnight meal by his side. ‘Oh, Mama. I’m afraid my head rather aches and I was hoping we could go home soon.’

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. ‘Diana...’ she snapped.

But Lord Thursby intervened smoothly, smiling politely. ‘That is a vast disappointment for me, Miss Martin, but I would never wish to cause you a moment’s discomfort. Please, let me send for your carriage. I can also ask our hostess if she has a headache powder.’

‘That is kind of you, Lord Thursby,’ Diana said cautiously.

‘Indeed,’ her mother said. ‘Thank you.’

Lord Thursby bowed and hurried away. As he spoke quietly to the Duchess, Diana saw William and Chris come back into the room. For just an instant, before the crowd closed around them, she saw how much Sir William stood out from everyone around him, an island of watchfulness and dignity, so dark and handsome. Was this really the same man Lady Smythe-Tomas was so ardently chasing? Such intriguing contradictions.

He caught her eyes and gave her a small nod, making her feel suddenly flushed and fluttery. She spun around, waving her fan in front of her face.

Her mother grasped Diana’s arm, her fingers hard through her satin glove. ‘Mama,’ Diana gasped and yanked her arm back.

‘You should make a tiny bit of an effort, Diana,’ her mother said through a gritted-teeth smile. ‘He is quite nice, you know, with a fine future ahead of him.’

Diana rubbed at her arm. She glanced back to see if she could see Sir William again, but he was gone. ‘Mama, perhaps there are things I want to see before I’m married.’

‘What sort of things? You can see whatever you like, go wherever you like, after you’re married! Just as I did. What choice is there?’

Diana thought of men like her father, like William Blakely, travelling, doing their bit for their country, seeing the world. Making a difference. ‘I could be like Miss Bird, or Miss Butler. Travel, write. Do good works.’

Her mother snorted. ‘Such hoydens. That wouldn’t work for you, Diana. You have been well brought up. Did we not send you to the best school? Make sure you had the best friends? Now we only want to see you happily settled before we are old. Is that too much to ask?’

‘I want to be happy, too,’ Diana said, but her mother wasn’t listening. Lord Thursby had returned to tell them their carriage was on its way.

‘Oh, how kind you are,’ her mother said with a laugh. ‘So reassuring to have someone to rely on thus.’

‘It is the least I can do, Mrs Martin, for how kind with his advice your husband has been.’ Lord Thursby offered Diana his arm and she saw no choice but to take it. She held it lightly, trying to smile, as he led them to the staircase hall where a footman waited with their cloaks.

‘I hope you will be recovered enough for me to call on you tomorrow,’ Lord Thursby said.

Diana suddenly remembered her interview the next day. Nothing could be allowed to stop that! ‘Perhaps in the afternoon?’

‘The afternoon?’ he said. ‘Not the usual morning hour?’

‘Yes. I—I shall probably need to rest and recover my strength in the morning.’

He nodded solicitously. ‘Of course. I know how delicate you ladies can be after such a busy evening as this.’

‘How understanding you are, Lord Thursby,’ her mother chirped, practically pushing Diana out the door towards their waiting carriage. ‘We shall look forward to seeing you tomorrow.’