Wishes in the Wind Read Online Free PDF Page A

off at once. “As it is, I worry every time you go out alone. But at least we’re in a respectable section of town, not living in a filthy hovel, surrounded by drunks and highwaymen who would do Lord knows what to you the instant you stepped out the door.” He shuddered. “No, Nicole. We stay put until you find a position.”
    Nicole recognized that tone of voice and conceded at once, tugging her hair free and shaking it loose. “Then I’d best finish my chore and fetch today’s Gazette .”
    Two hours later, Nicole was no closer to finding a copy of the newspaper than she’d been at the onset of her excursion. Further, all the newsstands had shut down, as the fashionable world shifted from day to night.
    She halted on the embankment road, her stomach lurching to remind her she’d eaten nothing since breakfast.
    Breakfast.
    A wave of panic accompanied the more dire realization that the lateness of the hour meant all the shops had closed for the evening. Besides the newspaper, she’d intended to purchase food. She and her father were down to a half loaf of bread and a bit of smoked meat—hardly enough to sustain them beyond tonight.
    Beads of perspiration trickled down her back. What was she going to do?
    Think. She had to think.
    Unsteadily, Nicole made her way to the roadside and drew a deep calming breath—one that was instantly thwarted by the stubborn confines of her corset. Dizziness exploded in her head, and she clutched blindly at a nearby lamppost, determined to steady herself. All around her the sounds of night were unfolding at an alarming rate, a profusion of elegantly dressed people leaving their town houses for gala rounds of merrymaking. Originally, Nicole had counted on this very occurrence when she’d planned her jaunt, knowing that the throng of aristocrats would swallow up her presence as she made her way back to the inn. But her plan would backfire if she chose this moment to swoon, for amid this crowd someone was bound to notice a woman lying prone on the roadside.
    The dizziness intensified as her corset stood its ground. In response, the collar of her gown seemed to tighten oppressively about her throat. No , she ordered herself silently, scrutinizing the passing carriages. You will not faint. You can’t risk calling attention to yourself.
    With staunch determination, Nicole pivoted, seeking a private spot, her gaze scanning the banks of the Thames. Unthinking, she darted toward the river walk, which stretched between the embankment road and the river itself.
    Thankfully, there was a secluded, empty bench behind a marble statue and a row of trees. She dropped onto it, forcing her breathing to become slow and shallow until the dizziness receded. Damn this bloody corset , she fumed. Gown or no gown, I’ll never again don one of these lethal stranglers.
    Twenty feet away, couples were milling about, but the lush line of trees acted as a shield between Nicole and the walkway’s patrons. Safe and unseen in her tiny niche, she allowed herself to relax. She needed to plan her strategy, and she would—in a moment. But first her body needed to recoup its strength in order for her mind to function. And, in the absence of food, a brief respite would have to suffice.
    Leaning her head back, she stared up at the sky, watching the twinkling of the stars as they appeared, one by one. This onset of night was magic—not just here, but everywhere. Even amid the chaos at the stables, everything seemed to slow at the spellbinding instant that twilight merged with darkness, as if to acknowledge the reverence of the occurrence.
    A reminiscent smile played about Nicole’s lips. This was also the hour of night when, as a little girl, her mother would tuck her in and tell her stories—wondrous, fairy-tale stories that made her heart sing and her imagination soar. She’d hang on to every word, awestruck, somehow believing it could all be. But then, her mother had the power to make one believe, and Nicole knew