The Flower Seller ( WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 9

Waverly had departed by the time Nicole came down to breakfast the next morning, a little disappointed she had not waited to say goodbye. She left no note, or verbal instructions, other than informing the housekeeper she needed to return to London regarding a matter of some urgency. Given that was a lie, Nicole wondered whether Waverly simply had changed her mind on their reunion, concluding it was not such a good idea afterall.

There were two more days of her visit to Norfolk, deciding to remain with her brother and his family rather than appear rude by leaving early to chase after a fickle friend. At least, she hoped she was a friend. She wasn't entirely sure. Matilda also wanted to spend time with her aunt, the pair enjoying rides through the countryside, strolls along the promenade, afternoon tea in The Duke's Hotel.

Nicole recalled the day she and Freddie met with Sherlock, the couple of hours spent in his company lighting a fire in her belly she had been unable to extinguish. His passion for life had allowed her to explore her own passions, seek out that which brought her world to life, find a channel for her rebellious nature. Never one to take the easy path, she eventually persuaded her parents to purchase a small townhouse in Park Street, close enough to the family's mansion to satisfy her mother's overly protective nature towards her daughter, close enough to London's parks to satisfy Nicole's need to ride on a regular basis.

The residence gave her the freedom she craved as a teenager. Not that she had ceased to explore the world beyond the cosy confines of her mansion once her friendship with Sherlock cooled. On the contrary, it spurred her to find her own way in the world, equipped with just enough skills to get by, she sought out her own adventures, learning as she went, finding out who to trust, who not. That was something Sherlock had taught her through his actions.

In many ways Sherlock had done her an immense favour. There would always have come a time when even he, the great detective, could no longer provide what she needed. He simply chose that moment to tell her that. Brutal, cruel, ultimately necessary, he could see her potential shining out, where so many others missed it. He could see if she remained under his tutelage she would become but a mere shadow of him. In his cruelty lay a sliver of kindness. He didn't want her to be a shadow of him, or a sideshow. He wanted her to shine in her own right.

Instinctively, Nicole had picked up on this the night she entered Baker Street to deliver her letter. She could sense Sherlock had finished with her, believing at the time it was solely down to being annoyed for having fought with Wynonna. It was never about their fight.

It was about setting her free. And yet, there was a deeper motivation behind his actions even he could not fathom entirely. He could see Waverly was becoming devoted to Nicole, her angelic face gazing admiringly at Nicole as she worked to impress him, Nicole not yet understanding the effect she was having on his youngest ward. Call it jealousy, call it protectiveness, he wanted to keep Waverly to himself, have her gaze at him the way she gazed at Nicole.

Nicole entered her residence, one of her father's grooms trailing behind with her luggage. The housekeeper took her gloves and hat, waiting for her to remove her coat. "Any post?" she inquired.

"I've placed it in your study ma'am," the housekeeper replied.

"I have someone arriving at one. Have tea ready in the drawing room."

"Very good ma'am," the housekeeper said, curtsying.

Nicole headed to her study, opening the first letter in the pile on her desk. A request for her assistance, the theft of jewellery, Nicole recognising the name of the person calling on her for discreet help. Lady Bicknell, whose husband Nicole knew was a womaniser and a lousy gambler. It didn't take much mental effort to conclude Lady Bicknell's husband was selling her jewellery to pay for his lifestyle. She made a pencil note at the top of the letter to invite Lady Bicknell for afternoon tea to inform her of the situation.