Wishing for Rainbows

“Yes, I should like that, thank you,” Trenton replied.

“Excellent. How about tomorrow tonight?”

Ursula gasped at Adelaide’s audacity but smiled when Trenton merely grinned. “I would love to.”

She watched the door close behind Adelaide then turned toward him. “I am sorry for aunt. She can be a little wayward at times.”

“I like her.”

“Oh, please don’t think that is a criticism. I adore Aunt Adelaide. It is just that she can be a little unexpected sometimes.”

“I don’t mind,” he assured her softly.

Now that they were alone he was able to study her more closely. She looked exhausted and fragile, and it was all he could do not to gather her against him for a hug.

“Please allow me to help you with this, Ursula,” he murmured as he flicked the cards with his index finger.

“I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted on a sigh. “I mean; how do I set about finding out who sent me the flowers? They haven’t done anything wrong. It is just slightly overwhelming to receive so many.”

“I know, but any admirable suitor would have made their identity known by now.”

“I know,” Ursula replied with a shiver.

Trenton thought about that for a moment. “When is the next arrangement due to arrive?”

“Well, about now actually,” she replied with a quick look at the clock.

Trenton nodded. “When it arrives, I shall follow the person who delivers it. When we find out which seller it comes from, we can make a few enquiries about who arranged for them to be delivered.”

“I want to come too,” she suddenly declared, perking up at the thought of actually doing something useful to solve the mystery.

She read the refusal on his face as soon as she had spoken and, in spite of her initial joy at having him there, felt her temper surge. It wasn’t his fault; she knew it wasn’t, but she was sick of everyone telling her what to do. This involved her, especially if the secret admirer was the man who had broken into her room last night. She couldn’t; wouldn’t, just sit at home and wait for him to report back to her like she was some helpless nincompoop.

“You would be better off staying here, in front of the fire,” Trenton said cautiously.

Ursula glared at him. “I have been cosseted, coddled, and fussed over so much that if I spend another minute beside the fire I shall go grey and cantankerous, and quietly out of my mind. I need to do something, Trenton. This inertia is driving me to distraction. This involves me; even more so after last night. I simply refuse to stay at home and do nothing.”

Trenton thought about that for a moment. He didn’t want to seem as though he was taking over her life but she still looked shaken from her ordeal last night. The last thing he should do was drag her half-way around London. However, given what she had just said he couldn’t exactly order her to remain at home like she was some half-wit.

“Alright,” he said. “I have my curricle outside so we should be able to keep up with whoever delivers them. If you fetch your shawl now then we can be ready when the arrangement is delivered.”

Ursula stared at him for a moment, stunned that he had given in so easily. She had expected an argument, not ready acceptance.

“Are you sure?” The words were out before she could stop them.

Trenton smiled when he read the gratitude in her eyes, and was glad that he had capitulated so easily. “I am sure,” he replied, and let out a soft laugh when she scurried out of the room in search of her shawl before he could change his mind.

By the time she reached the hallway, a delivery man was passing the arrangement through the door to Isaac. She quickly called Trenton, who issued a few instructions to Isaac before he swept her out to his curricle.

“Are we going to be able to keep up with him?” She asked as she craned her neck to see the delivery man.

“He has just turned right at the end of the road,” Trenton replied, lifting a hand to a coachman who stopped to let them join the traffic. “If we can get clear of these carriages we should be able to get within a few feet of him and stay close. As long as he doesn’t look back and notice us, we should be fine,” Trenton replied absently as he guided his curricle out of the end of the road.

Ursula was so busy trying to keep her gaze on their quarry that she didn’t notice the interested glances they drew from several passers-by. In particular, the rather spiteful gazes of Barbarella Somersby and Roger Brampton, who were riding in Brampton’s curricle in the opposite direction.

Trenton did though, but carefully kept his gaze averted. Right now, it was more important that he discover who had set about attempting to win Ursula’s favour with such determination. He wasn’t going to even think about Brampton or Barbarella. Although he would not say as much to Ursula, something was most definitely wrong with the sender of the flowers remaining a mystery. He just had to find out why he wanted to remain hidden; preferably before the intruder, if he was connected, made a return visit.

CHAPTER FIVE