Chapter Four

 

 

“Yoo-hoo, James?”

Letitia called out as she saw James strolling alone along one of the paths between Ridlington and FitzArden Hall.

“Hallo Letitia,” he answered. “Lovely day.”

“Indeed.” She walked to him, with Harriet following along just behind her.

“I see you’re actually being appropriate, Miss Letitia.” He grinned at her. “No longer walking alone, but with a maid. How correct of you. And how surprising…”

“Don’t tease, James. You know I’m always appropriate. After a fashion.” She waved the topic aside. “I want you to meet Miss Harry, my new…er…maid.”

“Miss Harry.” James nodded politely. “Why do I sense some mystery here? Perhaps because you were uncertain how to name your new companion?”

She rolled her eyes. “No mystery at all. But, well the circumstances are perhaps a little out of the ordinary, shall we say?”

Harriet moved a little. “Miss Letitia…” she said cautiously.

“It’s all right, Harry, really. James is about the most trustworthy man I know. He has been a party to more than a few Ridlington secrets. If Edmund trusts him implicitly…”

She almost felt Harriet relax. “Ah, then of course. Forgive my reticence.”

Letitia noticed James looking intently at Harriet. “Have we met, Miss Harry?”

“Oh no, sir. I doubt that extremely.” She moved her head slightly, concealing her face with the shadow of her bonnet.

James shook his head. “I must have been mistaken. But I would love to hear about these circumstances, if you’d care to join me on my stroll?”

“I’d be delighted.” Letitia put her arm through his outstretched one. “We walked this way in hopes of catching you at home, but this is every bit as perfect.”

Thus assembled, James and Letitia walked down the lane, with Harriet bringing up the rear. As they progressed, Letitia filled him in on Harriet’s story, omitting mention of her last name because even though it was dear James, some things were probably best left unsaid. Especially given James’s frequent visits to London. Should there be any hue and cry pertaining to Harriet’s disappearance, Letitia did not want anyone to make a connection and thus reveal her new maid’s true identity.

“’Tis a terrible thing,” said James at the end of Letitia’s recital. “Women are all too often used as bargaining chips; chattel to be traded or sold for the most advantageous arrangements, with no attention paid to them as people.” He glanced back at Harriet. “I am sorry to hear of your experiences, Miss Harry. I trust it has not given you a distaste of the entire male gender.”

She smiled. “Oh no, sir. Not at all. Only the portion of it related to me.”

He laughed and tightened his arm on Letitia’s. “I declare, Miss Letitia. You have found an ideal companion. She has a ready wit as well as a personable attitude. Perhaps she will keep you in line?”

Letitia snorted. “I need no keeper, James.” She smiled at him with an excess of modesty. “But it is pleasant to have a companion who can keep pace with my absurdities as well as unlace my gown.”

Her passing comment made him smile, but she noticed his eyes flash to her bodice and then return to her face. “A most delightful thought.”

He moved the conversation forward, leaving her wondering to what, exactly, he had been referring.

After about a mile of inconsequential chatter—the progress of his building endeavour, and the perfection of the new addition to the Ridlington family—James paused as they reached the end of the lane. “Let’s turn here. I must approve the final design for the ballroom this afternoon. A not insignificant task.”

“How thrilling,” said Letitia. “I’m sure you will produce something spectacular. Imagine your first ball there.”

He chuckled. “It is more the necessity of having a ballroom, than the excitement of using it. Should I wish to sell at any time, such a feature will ensure a good price.”

“Oh.” Letitia’s spirits plummeted at his words. The idea that one could spend so much time and money, not to mention personal effort, in creating such a lovely mansion only to consider how much it would pay in the future—well, it was more than a little depressing.

“But that is a long way away. Let us instead talk about the topic you have studiously avoided during our delightful ramble.”

She blinked, still saddened at the thought of James selling his house. “What?”

“Your book, my dear. Were you not to see your publisher yesterday?”

Letitia ignored the tiny gasp she heard from Harriet. “Ah, of course, yes. Yes, I did meet with him. That’s where I met Harry, as I believe I mentioned.”

“You may have done so, but I was so engrossed in Miss Harry’s story, I neglected to pay attention to that important detail. So tell me now?”

She chose her words carefully. “He seemed most favourably inclined toward my work.”

James stopped dead. “Letitia.” He turned her by the shoulders to face him. “That is splendid news. I couldn’t be more thrilled.”

His arms went around her and he pulled her close in a warm hug.

And oh my goodness, did Letitia wish he’d linger there just a little longer. His arms were strong around her, bands of iron holding her against him.

She sighed with pleasure, then a little cough from Harriet recalled her to the present. “Well, thank you, James. But it’s not entirely cause for celebration…”

He released her, and perhaps she imagined it, but she could have sworn he sighed as well. “In what way?”

They resumed their progress, Letitia’s heart beating a bit faster than was usual for a stroll along country paths.  “Well, he has given me the manuscript and there are editorial suggestions included. Things he says will strengthen not only the content of the book, but also the chances that it will be read by many more people.”

He tilted his head to one side and glanced at her. “What do these suggestions encompass? Not a rewrite, surely…”

“No, no. I’m sure not.”

“You haven’t looked?”

She bit her lip. “I’m rather afraid to.”

“Coward,” he teased. “But you do think he found it appealing, overall?”

“I do, yes.” She took a breath. “He even went so far as to write up a contract. If I can satisfy his suggestions, then he will sign it.”

“Good heavens.” James sounded astonished. “That sounds quite unusual and leads me to endorse your opinion. He was definitely interested.”

“Yes. So I must be brave and review the manuscript soon.”

“Would you like my help? You have never allowed me to read it, but I consider myself a relatively literate sort of gentleman. Perhaps another viewpoint would be of use?”

Letitia shook her head. “Let me work on it first. But thank you, James. I will most certainly call upon you for advice and assistance if the need arises…there’s no-one else whose opinion I trust more than yours.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. Word of a lady.”

“In that case, Miss Letitia, Miss Harry…” James disengaged himself, “we have reached the place where we must part.”

Letitia realized the lane diverged and he was correct. She’d lost track of where they were in the delight she always experienced in his company. “Oh my goodness, indeed that is so.” She turned to him with a smile. “Thank you, James. As always an hour in your company raises my spirits, enlightens my mind and exercises my body.”

“My, my. All that?” His eyebrows rose.

“Yes, you jester.” She laughed at him, then daringly leaned over and dropped a brief kiss on his cheek. “Thank you dear friend. And good luck with the ballroom.”  Moving quickly away, she nodded at Harriet. “Come then, Harry. We’ve had our walk. Time to attack that manuscript.”

“Yes, Miss Letitia. A lovely walk indeed.” Harriet dropped a polite curtsey to James. “Sir.”

“Good day, ladies.”

They departed as he raised his hat, then replaced it and headed away from them to FitzArden Hall.

“A very pleasant gentleman,” remarked Harry.

“Yes, isn’t he?”

“And a true friend…”

“Indeed.”

Silence fell as the two women walked briskly back toward Ridlington Chase.

“He hasn’t read your book, then?” asked Harriet.

“Er, no,” replied Letitia. “I-I’m not really ready for that yet.” She turned to Harriet. “Do you think he’d be so horrified he’d never speak to me again?”

Harriet quirked an eyebrow. “May I be honest, Letitia?”

“Of course. I demand nothing else.” Letitia met her gaze frankly.

“I think Sir James FitzArden would be overwhelmed by reading your book. Even from such a short time as our meeting this morning, I would judge him to be possessed of a deeper interest in you than just that of dear friend.”

Letitia bit her lip. “Hell and devil confound it.” She made no apologies for her language. “I wish people would stop telling me that.”

“But why? He’s charming, certainly comfortably situated, and single. What impediment could there be to a match between the two of you?”

Letitia shook her head. “Me. I’m the impediment, Harriet. He deserves someone coming from a much better lineage than mine.” She looked forward. “Marriage, as we both know, is a business arrangement for those of us in certain positions. You’ve had your exposure to this sad fact. And James is mine. I know he will find the perfect match, because his fortune will make his lack of a title acceptable to even the most particular of families. His connections are impeccable and as you note, he’s also charming and handsome. As soon as he decides to make any kind of appearance in Society, he’ll be a six course dinner for the starving debutantes.”

“And what’s wrong with you, may I ask?” retorted Harriet indignantly.  “You are of a noble line, and even though it has suffered reverses, I very much doubt that would be an impediment…”

“The Ridlington name has been badly damaged, Harriet.” Letitia sighed as they came in sight of the house. “Look. It’s not just the tainted reputation…it’s the lack of a fortune as well. There are still boarded up windows that have yet to be replaced. One wing is still not fully habitable. It’s beginning…our recovery. But there is a long way to go. I have hope that little Hugh Edmund Ridlington, when he assumes the title, will have a solid foundation on which to build.”

“So you’re not entertaining any thoughts of Mr. James as a husband? None at all? And if not, then who might be of consideration? You must wed, Letitia…”

“Why?” Letitia stopped Harriet with a hand on her arm. “Why must I wed?”

“Well…” Harriet paused. “To have children?”

Letitia shook her head. “Not a good enough reason. We have a new generation beginning now, and I won’t be at all surprised if Edmund and Rosaline produce further additions. All of whom I shall adore as if they were my own.”

“So you will not marry or become a mother. What will you do, then?”

“I shall become a famous and successful writer, Harry.” She took a deep breath. “And if I choose to favour a man with my affections, even to sate my lustful nature—assuming I have one buried somewhere—I shall do so because of my own desire for pleasure, nobody else’s. I swear it. Word of a lady.”

Harriet gulped. “Oh my goodness. You will be so very…contumacious.”

Letitia stopped dead in surprise. “Good God, Harry. Well done. You’ve just used a word I don’t know. So let us hurry, for I must immediately look it up or hate you forever.”

Laughing, the two women dashed the remaining yards to Ridlington Chase. But in spite of her light-hearted demeanour, in the back of Letitia’s mind lurked the idea of using James for her own pleasure. His arms had been deliciously strong…