The Flower Seller ( WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 1

"Penny a bunch," the girl called out. "Only a penny. Nice fine flowers for your house."

Nicole's carriage almost ran over the petite flower girl selling her wares as it set off across London. She hadn't stopped to purchase a bunch of the girl's finest flowers from Covent Garden. Why would she? A fourteen year old had little interest in such things, the preserve of adults who were in charge of decorating the various houses she considered home.

Long legs stretched out in the carriage, her governess chastising her for such an unladylike posture. Nicole didn't care. She was on route to her brother's house in Norfolk, to spend a week promenading on the seafront, taking tea with other wealthy families, letting her dull London life fade into the background. Not that her life in London was a drudgery. Far from it. She lived what most would consider the life of luxury, a fine house, fine food, fine clothes, wanting for nothing other than decent companionship.

Sadly, that's where her life lacked, her elevated social status one where it was hard to find those with whom she most wanted to associate, those who were passionate about something, anything, other than needle craft and who was eligible to marry. A curious child, always asking questions, the norms of Victorian society were such that a woman's role essentially entailed being a good wife, delivering enough healthy babies to carry on the name of the household. And, when not pumping out offspring, entertaining other wealthy families as called upon.

Nicole distracted herself with the passing scenery of a bustling city as their carriage neared the station. "You will write to your mother," her governess instructed. "She'll expect at the very least three letters." Nicole nodded, not bothering to acknowledge the words being spoken to her. "I will also expect one letter with progress on French verbs." Nicole's attention was on a young boy running alongside their carriage as it slowed on its approach to the station. "Nicole! je désespère."

"Despair not Grace," she replied, that cocky smile appearing, which so infuriated her mother and her governess. "I will write to everyone. Will you miss me?"

Her governess patted Nicole's knee. "You are more than I expected. But then, everything I wished for in a pupil."

"A rare compliment," Nicole replied. "And, you are lodged in my heart like a cherry stone."

Grace's laugh told her she had a friend to call upon should the need ever arise. The carriage came to a halt outside Liverpool Street station, Nicole's governess escorting her to the reserved seat in the first class carriage, on a train heading to King's Lynn. It was the first time Nicole would be travelling alone, an adventure she was relishing, not that it was the done thing for a young woman of her class to be going anywhere without a chaperone. Grace would have travelled with her on such occasions, to make sure no harm came to Nicole. A pressing family matter of her own necessitated her return home. Nicole's mother had offered to make the journey, although she too had other matters to attend, namely a formal dinner to plan and partake in, her absence from which would have been the gossip of all attending.

And so, it was agreed Nicole would make the journey by herself, promising her mother she would not leave the train carriage under any circumstances until she reached King's Lynn, where her brother assured their mother he would be waiting in person. No more than ten minutes into the journey she left the carriage in search of adventure. If caught, she would explain it was simply to stretch those long legs of hers. She would be lying of course, but then Nicole had little problem with lying if it allowed her to gain a greater understanding of the world in which she lived. To her a fib constituted a useful tool when dealing with those who would otherwise cramp her existence.

The first few carriages were empty, the train not particularly busy that time of day. Proceeding along the narrow corridor she eventually came upon a lone man reading a newspaper, the size of which concealed his upper body from view. She stood for a moment squinting in an effort to read the story on the front page. Something about a failed attempt to steal jewels from The Tower of London, Nicole edging nearer to be able to see the words more clearly. "I usually prefer reading alone," the man announced. "I am happy to loan it to you once finished."