The Flower Seller ( WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 2

The address meant nothing to her, other than having been written on the newspaper, wondering nothing more than where that might be. Her knowledge of London was as limited as her knowledge of King's Lynn, her attention drawn back to the article. The final paragraph mentioned the indebtedness of the Royal family to the detective who solved the crime. Detective, Nicole mused, a term she had not heard before. A knock on the door had her stuffing the newspaper and map under the covers.

Freddie's wife Maud entered with Matilda, the child still sucking her thumb. "Matilda would like to say goodnight."

Nicole knelt before her niece. "It's quite late. You will be tired tomorrow."

Matilda sucked her thumb noisily. "She is not like Samuel," Maud said. "More like me, I'm afraid. A little mouse."

"You are delightful," Nicole said, taking Matilda in her arms. "A mouse can roar, did you know that?"

Matilda's eyes were wide, shaking her head. Nicole proceeded to growl into her niece's ear. Soft at first, growing louder until Matilda laughed, asking her to do it again. "Roarrrrrr. Roarrrrrrrrr. Now your turn."

Matilda's voice was still but a mouse, her thumb returning to her mouth. "We will be lions tomorrow," Maud said, offering her hand to Matilda. "Aunty Nicole is tired from her journey. We must leave her rest."

At breakfast the next morning Freddie suggested they might take the horses for a ride through the countryside. Their route led them close to the Sandringham estate, her brother guiding them along a path which skirted the parkland reserved for royalty. The gallop back to the house was exhilarating, over too soon, Freddie promising they would ride again before she left. Maud and the children were waiting their return, suggesting they might venture into King's Lynn to show Nicole the town, perhaps sample a penny ice. She had tried one once, on an outing with Grace, the ice burning her tongue. Not unpleasant, although not something she would rush to try again.

Their carriage drew up outside The Duke's Head hotel, a groom opening the carriage door allowing the children to exit first, Maud and Nicole following behind. Samuel would have raced off had it not been for the groom's timely intervention, grabbing his collar to prevent his escape. "Freddie says he's like you," Maud observed, retrieving her energetic son from the clutches of a servant. "He says it's uncanny."

"I must admit I was a handful as a child," Nicole replied. "I will make sure we buy him a train for his collection."

Matilda's hand slipped into hers. "You have an admirer," Maud said, smiling down at her daughter.

"She is a lion," Nicole replied, gazing at her devoted niece. "She will rule the world. Isn't that right Matilda?"

Matilda nodded, her thumb going to her mouth instinctively, not quite sure what her aunt's words meant. No sooner had she spoken when the gentleman from the train bounded out of the hotel, about to enter a waiting carriage. "I have no paper for you today," he said, as he danced past. "Frightful service here. Come back tomorrow. Two pm. I shall order tea."

Maud looked at Nicole, who shrugged, her cheeks burning, wondering how she might extricate herself from her family the following day in order to make the appointment. The rest of the day was spent indulging Samuel and Matilda, Nicole's affections torn between them. She adored Samuel's boisterous presence, while Matilda's gentler nature brought out her maternal instincts. She would never consider herself the motherly kind, yet there was something about her niece's adoration which was endearing.

Map out on her bed that night, Nicole realised there was no way to reach The Duke's Head other than by carriage, or by horse. Asking to use the carriage would draw too much attention, she decided, concluding it might be easier to steal a horse to make the rendezvous. But, that would mean creating a plausible enough story to allow her to be in town at the required time. Details she decided, concluding her rendezvous with her mysterious gentleman was more important than explaining herself.