Letitia found the
week after the disturbing revelations about Mr. Markham’s identity trying. She
was sitting in her drawing room one afternoon, attempting to not think of his
perfidy, when Nellie opened the door and Isobel swept in with a flurry of silk.
Pausing to drop a kiss on Letty’s cheek, she seated herself across from her
friend.
“Letty, I feel a
wretch for not having visited you these past days. But Francis and I leave for
Scotland in a fortnight, and the preparations are more than I can trust the
servants to manage without some supervision. At times like this I miss dear
Harriet immensely, for she was always such a help and had such a way with the
packing. Indeed, I scarcely know what we took with us in years past, and must
spend hours making lists.”
Letitia put down
her embroidery and smiled at Isobel. “You cannot worry about me constantly,
Isobel. And it is just as well you were not here yesterday, for Dr. Wolfe
visited, and it would have been very trying for you if you had encountered him.”
“No more trying
than it was for you, I’m sure! After all, he is not seeking to marry me. I
don’t suppose you have managed to discourage him?”
Letty laughed. “He
seems to believe that his proposal is due to be accepted at any time, and stops
here with alarming frequency in order to provide me with an opportunity to
inform him of my change of heart.”
Isobel gave her a
sidelong glance. “And you have had no change of heart toward your other suitor?”
Letitia gave looked
down at her hands, which were clasped in her lap. “Lord Eynsford—” she
hesitated for it seemed odd to refer to him by that name. “Lord Eynsford sent
his card up a number of times, but I refused to see him. And then he sent a
very pretty posy of white roses, and a note of apology.”
“Very proper,”
ventured Isobel.
“Perhaps if he had
stepped on my toes while dancing,” said Letty, with a touch of humor. “But it
hardly makes up for concealing his identity and imposing on my friendship!”
“But what more do
you expect?” protested Isobel. “It is not as though he can do anything other
than tell you how much he regrets his actions.”
“He tried,” allowed
Letty. “A package arrived that was not for me, but rather a new cricket bat for
James. Truly, Isobel, it is not fair of him to attempt to appeal to me through
my children! James would have been thrilled with the gift, and I felt horrid
when I rejected it. I sent it back with a request that he cease to importune
me.”
“And has he?” asked
Isobel.
“I received another
note of apology, and nothing since,” said Letty, feeling a twinge of
something—not regret, she assured herself.
Isobel glanced at
her face, and decided it would be best not to tease her on the subject. “You
must do as you think fit, Letty. While I wish you could forgive him, but it is
not possible for me to defend his actions.”
“I should think
not,” said Letty firmly.
“London will be
terribly warm in a few weeks, and sadly empty of company,” Isobel said,
deciding a change of topic might be in order. “Would you and the children like
to join us in Scotland? My cottage could hold us all, or if you want more space
and a proper nursery, Harriet would be only too pleased to host you at
Glencairn Castle, now that she is the countess. You know how she loves
children.”
Letitia pondered
the invitation, knowing that the green countryside of Scotland would be
healthier and more amusing for James and Emily than London in the heat of the
summer. She would also enjoy Isobel and Harriet’s company, as well as not
having to worry about managing her house for a few weeks. But she shook her
head.
“I cannot impose on
you so, and you will be attending parties and entertaining guests, while I am
still in half mourning. I would not wish to cast a pall over your amusements.”
“As though you cast
a pall over anything!” Isobel leaned over and placed her hand on Letty’s. “Please,
to humor me?”
“Isobel, you and
Francis cannot wish two small children to be in your home, and I know you will
have your excavations to attend to, and Francis will want to fish and visit
with his friends. Perhaps next year, when I am out of mourning, we shall
accompany you. But for now, I think we are better off here in London, where we
can be quiet and peaceful.”
“I promise not to
invite Lord Eynsford to Scotland,” said Isobel, a gleam of humor in her eye.
A reluctant laugh
was wrung from Letitia. “Indeed, I had thought of that, as you clearly
perceived. But truly, you have done so much for me already, Isobel. You and
Francis deserve some time together without worrying about me. I shall do very
well here, and I promise not to make friends of any other unknown gentlemen in
your absence!”
“Well, I suppose I
must not further trouble you with my pleadings,” said Isobel. “But, if you
reconsider, let me know. We do not leave for some days yet, so I will engage
myself to visit you every day until then!”
“That will be very
welcome,” said Letitia. “My afternoons are sadly lonely since—” she broke off.
“Since you have
lost Mr. Markham?” asked Isobel sympathetically.
“I never had Mr.
Markham,” Letitia observed. “But yes, please visit as often as you please
before you travel to Scotland.”
Isobel was as good
as her word, and visited Letitia regularly during the next two weeks, doing
much to lift Letty’s spirits as she strove to put Mr. Markham behind her. One
morning shortly before Isobel was to depart, a note arrived begging Letitia to
come to Lady Exencour’s home.
“For everything here is a frightful tangle,
and I must stay and supervise, but I long for your company. Please come for
tea, I beg of you!”
the letter pleaded.
Letty hesitated
over her response, but decided that it could do no harm to leave Kensington for
a few hours. For the past several days she had barely left her house, not
wanting to encounter the marquess, but she now felt that a change might be
refreshing. She penned a response to Isobel, then went upstairs to change her
dress. When she emerged some time later, she was charmingly clad in a soft gray
muslin dress, with three rows of lace trim at the hem, lifted with light yellow
ribbons. She wore over it a matching pale yellow spencer, with grey closings
and a high neck with a small ruff.
After informing
Violet of her intentions and saying good-bye to Emily and Jamie, Lettie sallied
forth in the carriage Isobel had sent for her, feeling a bit uncertain. But the
warmth of the afternoon and the beauty of the early summer lulled her into a
state of contentment, and even the hustle and bustle of London could not ruin
her mood. Perhaps, she thought hopefully, she was beginning to move beyond her
regrets over the events of the previous weeks.
At the Exencour’s
house Letitia was assisted from the carriage and escorted into the hall, where
Isobel met her before Letitia even had time to remove her pretty chip hat.
“Thank you so much
for coming, my dear,” she said. “I longed to see you, but so much must go on
ahead of us, and Francis is of no help at all. He tells me he cannot imagine
why I must pack so many dresses when I’m sure to spend all my days in my oldest
gowns, covered with dust as I supervise the workmen at my excavation. But
still, there will be parties at Glencairn and elsewhere in the neighborhood,
and one must look respectable!”
Letitia laughed and
returned her hug. “I’m sure you will have a lovely time, both with your work
and your parties,” she said.
“Oh, how I wish you
would come with us,” said Isobel as she led her friend up the stairs to the
sitting room. “You’ve never seen Dargenwater Cottage, and you would love it so!”
“But it is also
very small, and I have two young children,” said Letty. “You and Francis will
hardly wish us to be underfoot night and day.”
The ladies seated
themselves, and Isobel poured tea. “I am so thirsty,” she complained. “Preparing
to leave is such work that I wonder we go anywhere at all! Perhaps you are right
about the cottage, Letty, but Glencairn is less than a mile away. Please at
least consider changing your mind. A word from you at any time and I will send
a carriage for you!”
“I know you would,”
said Letitia. “But some quiet will be good for me. The last few months have
been trying, and I could use some boredom. First Alfred died, then I had to
pack up Morgan Place, and find a home here. I proceeded to unwisely develop a
close friendship with a man I had not been properly introduced to and barely
knew, who was revealed to be not a solicitor, but a marquess. Now there is a
bishop importuning me. The whole thing is ludicrous if one stops to think about
it for even a moment.”
Isobel smiled
reluctantly. “I suppose you must feel that way. Letty, I cannot tell you too
many times how sorry I am that Eynsford deceived you. Though I’m sure he meant
no harm, I know you are rightfully annoyed. He has not dared to show his face
here, but I will give him a piece of my mind as soon as I see him.”
“You had nothing to
do with it,” said Letty firmly. “If you had any suspicion you would have told
me, and as for Exencour—-well, he could have no idea how rapidly our friendship
would progress. I have no one to blame but myself.”
Isobel passed her a
plate of cakes. “Still, I cannot be comfortable about it. I could strangle the
man; he truly is kind and amusing, and if he had simply been able to wait, the
two of you might have formed a real attachment. But he had to go bumbling about
like a fool.”
Letty contemplated
Mr. Markham’s calm confidence, steady temperament and good advice, and
reflected that bumbling was not a word she would apply to the marquess. But she
couldn’t share that with Isobel if her friend was to realize that all contact
with his lordship must cease. “I cannot think that we would have made a match
of it,” she countered. “I was overcome by my loneliness and he was—-well, I
have no idea what he was doing, but it was wrong.”
Isobel shook her
head and opened her mouth to respond, but Letty held up her hand. “Let us speak
of something else. Discussing this again will lead nowhere. Tell me more of
your plans for your excavations in Scotland.”
Isobel allowed
herself to be distracted by this question, and soon she was describing in
detail the progress she hoped to make that summer in Scotland.
So immersed were
they in conversation that they failed to hear someone rapping on the door of
the house, and the butler opening the door.
“Lord Eynsford,”
said the butler cheerfully. “How good to see you. It has been some days since
you last visited us.”
“Good afternoon,
Pierce,” said the marquess, handing over his hat. “Is Lord Exencour home?”
“He is in the
library, my lord.”
“I know the way,”
said Phillip with a smile. He moved across the hall and opened the door to the
library.
Phillip found
Francis seated behind his desk, frowning over a ledger. He looked up quickly,
pleased to be distracted.
“Phillip! How good
of you to call,” he said, rising and moving from behind his desk to shake his
friend’s hand. He paused. “Lady Exencour did not see you, did she?”
“I was lucky enough
to escape her notice,” said Eynsford. “Is she terribly angry with me?”
“Furious, my
friend. And I’m not at all sure that I should not be as well.” Francis moved to
a table, on which stood various crystal decanters. “Some brandy?”
“Please,” said the
marquess. “I will not blame you if you throw me out, rather than offering your
hospitality.”
Exencour poured two
glasses of amber liquid and strolled over to his friend, handing him one. The
men sipped for a moment in silence.
“Whatever were you
thinking?” asked Francis finally.
Eynsford seated
himself in a large chair and turned his glass around slowly in his hands. “I
have no idea. I can only plead that once I encountered Lady Morgan, I was
enchanted and ceased to think rationally at all.”
“She is lovely,”
said Lord Exencour.
“And kind, and
brave, and funny, and charming,” said Eynsford fervently.
Francis’ face
reflected his surprise. “So this is more than a mere dalliance,” he said.
“Did Lady Exencour
not tell you that I proposed marriage?” asked Eynsford.
“She did mention
it. But I thought you might have made her an offer from a sense of duty, and
hoped that Lady Morgan would respond precisely as she did.”
“Do you think so
poorly of me, Francis?”
“I consider you my
very good friend, Phillip. But I have never seen you in love with a woman,”
said Exencour seriously.
“And before you met
Miss Isobel Paley, what were your dealings with the fairer sex like?” asked
Eynsford, a touch of anger in his voice.
“Touché.” Francis
smiled. “I suppose you are right. We were neither of us particularly
considerate of a lady’s feelings in our younger days.”
“I have made a
dreadful mess of this,” said the marquess. “She refuses to see me, so I cannot
set it right.”
“Isobel tells me
that you have spent a great deal of time with Lady Morgan, and have made
friends with her children, and visited her home,” he said. “Do you think that
was wise?”
“Nothing I have
done in regard to Lady Morgan was wise,” said Eynsford bitterly. “I could not
resist her, and I allowed myself to deceive her in ways that I never planned. Why
did you not stop me? You guessed my secret.”
“You would not have
thanked me at the time,” said Exencour. “I imagine you would have told me to
keep my advice to myself.”
The marquess
laughed. “Or something stronger, perhaps. You are right; I would not have
listened to anyone. Nor can I completely regret it; after all, I would not have
met her otherwise, or at least not for some months, and then I would only have
been able to approach her in a ballroom, or at the opera. I might never have
learned how sweet, kind, and brave she is.”
Francis shook his
head. “I will not share with you the details of my courtship of Isobel, but
please believe that I made my fair share of missteps. Perhaps your suit will
one day find favor with Lady Morgan. I urge you to be persistent, Phillip.”
“How can I be
persistent when she won’t even talk to me?” Eynsford’s hand tightened on his
glass.
“That, my friend,
you will have to work out for yourself,” said Francis.
“Does she go to
Scotland with you?” asked the marquess.
Exencour shook his
head. “That will do you no good. She refuses Isobel’s invitations, I am sure
partly because she fears you might also be a guest.”
Eynsford sighed. “I
suppose I must be patient.”
“You might have
done better if you had been in the first place,” Francis pointed out.
The marquess shook
his head, and drained his glass. “I suppose I should take my leave. I did not
want you to depart for the summer without apologizing for my behavior to your
friend. When do you and Lady Exencour leave London?”
“In two days’ time,”
replied Francis. “You could join us there, Phillip. Isobel would be glad to see
you, though you will probably have to bear a scolding first.”
“Perhaps. If I
cannot make Lady Morgan believe I am sincere, it may be best for me to remove
myself from her vicinity.”
“You are always
welcome.” Francis walked the marquess to the hall, where the men paused and
shook hands.
The butler was not
present, and Eynsford shrugged. “I’ll show myself out,” he said to Exencour,
who nodded pleasantly and returned to the library.
Phillip strode from
the library to the grand entrance to Strancaster House, but paused when he
heard a soft tread on the stairs leading towards the upper floors, followed by
a gasp. He looked up and saw Letitia, her hand clutching the railing, poised as
though to turn and flee back up the stairs.
Eynsford’s hand
flew with its own volition from his side and reached out to her. “Lady Morgan,”
he said. “Please, stop.”
She hesitated, and
he moved swiftly across the hall and stood looking up at her. Letitia drew in
her breath at the picture he presented. She had only seen him twice before
dressed as the marquess; her Mr. Markham had been a handsome man, but Eynsford’s
attractiveness was magnetic.
“What are you doing
here?” she asked softly.
“I came to
apologize to my friend Francis for abusing his friendship,” said his lordship.
“It was wrong of me to deceive Lord and Lady Exencour. Not as wrong as what I
did to you, but I still regret it.”
Letty bit her lip
and looked away. When she gazed into his eyes, she found it very hard to remain
angry with him.
“Why are you here?”
he asked.
“Isobel invited me
to tea. She is upstairs, haranguing her staff,” she said with a hint of humor.
“I told her I could make my own way out.”
“Letitia, please
let me talk to you,” Phillip begged. He approached her and very gently took her
hand in his.
“We can’t talk
here,” she protested, but did not withdraw her hand.
Phillip slowly led
her the rest of the way down the stairs, and glanced around the hall. He
spotted a door under the stairs, and gestured at it. “I suppose this must lead
to the service areas and the dining room,” he said, urging her across the
polished marble of the floor. “It should be unused in the afternoon, please,
give me only a moment,” he continued, opening the door.
With a doubtful
glance at his face, Letitia entered the hallway that was revealed. What could
possibly happen in Strancaster House, she wondered. And, despite herself, she
desperately wanted to be in Eynsford’s company.
Eynsford closed the
door behind them, and turned to her, so pleased to simply be in her presence
that he was not at all sure of what to say.
“Lady Morgan, allow
me to again express my remorse for the pain I have caused you,” he said.
Letitia looked
away. “I blame myself for allowing you-—allowing myself to befriend an unknown
man,” she said distantly. “Please, do not concern yourself any longer with me.”
Impatiently,
Eynsford closed the distance between them. “Letty,” he murmured. “Letty.” He
reached out and grasped her shoulders, uncertain about why he had brought her
here, and what he wanted to say. As he became conscious of the delicate
strength of her collarbone and shoulders beneath his fingers, he softly slipped
his hands over them, gently massaging her tense muscles. Letty relaxed visibly,
and unable to resist, Phillip lowered his head to hers as she looked up at him.
He breathed in the subtle scent of lavender and lilacs that always seemed to
cling to her, and opened his mouth to speak, but found instead that his lips
were touching hers.
The door to the
library opened, and Isobel entered. Francis looked up at her, appreciating the
grace with which she moved. She laughed when she saw the look in his eyes.
“Later, my dear,”
she said. “Right now I need you to check on a trunk in our rooms. I believe it
is yours, but I have no idea why it is there.”
“Surely if you are
taking seven trunks, I may take one,” said Francis plaintively, but he followed
his wife out of the library with a smile. As they walked towards the stairs to
the upper floors, Isobel looked up.
“Do you hear
voices?” she asked. “It sounds like they are coming from behind the service
door.”
Francis listened
for a moment, and then reached out and touched Isobel’s arm, stopping her from
approaching the door. “Was Lady Morgan here this afternoon?” he asked.
“She was indeed. She
left some ten minutes ago.”
Francis’ raised his
eyebrows. “Eynsford was here as well,” he said.
“I did not see him!
Oh, Francis, what if they ran into each other?”
“I very much think
they may have,” said her husband, giving the door a significant look.
Isobel looked
alarmed and began to pull away from him. “Oh no, Letty must be so angry,” she
said.
Francis tightened
his grip on her arm. “Isobel, I fancy that there was a time when you and I
would have been very unhappy should we have been interrupted,” he said softly.
“What? Oh!” Understanding
dawned in Isobel’s eyes. “But Francis, I cannot allow Letitia—”
“Nonsense, my dear.
Letitia is an adult, and has seen far more difficulty in her life than you
have. You cannot always order her life for her. Leave them be.”
“But—” Isobel
subsided at the look on Francis’ face. “I suppose you are right,” she said. “And
only fancy how embarrassing it would be if they—well, if they are—”
“Exactly,” said
Francis. “And so my dear, perhaps you would like to return to the library?”
Isobel, with one
last curious glance at the closed door, followed her husband out of the hall.
As Letty felt the
firm touch of Phillip’s mouth, her anger and disappointment vanished, burnt
away by the heat of her very real love and the desire for him she had
suppressed so long. After experiencing the emptiness his absence had left in
her days, she hadn’t the heart to resist, and when he gently yet persuasively
sought to part her lips, she opened to him, reveling in his taste and feel. She
melted at the caress of his hands on her shoulders and back, and stepped closer
to the warmth and strength of Phillip’s muscular chest, enjoying the secure
feeling of his arms around her.
Phillip kissed her
deeply, tasting her sweetness for the first time. Letitia clung to him, his
kiss feeling like a homecoming to her. As he slanted his mouth across hers, to
find that perfect silky meeting of their tongues, he slid his hands down her
back, to the round curves of her bottom. He gripped them and squeezed gently,
then pressed her up against his hard torso. Letty moaned and sagged in his
grasp, the emotions he generated nearly overwhelming her. Phillip had just
allowed one hand to move up her side, to rest just under the gentle swell of
Letitia’s breast, when the sound of a not too distant door closing cut through
her haze of desire. The noise broke the spell that held her, and she found the
strength to put her hands against his chest and push him away.
“This is why we
can’t meet, and you must not visit my house,” she whispered, her voice tense
with anger and shame. “I allow you a few moments in private, and you, you, do
this, when I thought you wanted to talk, or explain to me the inexplicable. You
have just confirmed that I cannot trust you and must, perforce, avoid your
company.”
“How can you imply
that I wish you dishonor?” he demanded. “Except for concealing my identity, have
I ever failed to treat you with respect?”
“No, you have not,
but you also will not listen to me. You must leave me be, while I learn to make
my own way. I do not wish to be dependent on still another man who does not
deserve my trust.” Letty looked at Phillip, tears welling up in her eyes.
“I have tried to
tell you that I am too recently widowed, and that Alfred’s behavior and your
deception make it impossible for me to know my true feelings toward you, but
you do not listen to me!” she cried. “These past moments are the some of the
first we have spent together since I became aware of your true name,
and—and—-you attempted to take advantage of me! I know no more about you than I
did an hour ago, but I have learned I cannot trust myself near you. If you
cannot wait for me, well, I am better off without you.” Letty turned on her
heel, her hand shaking as she opened the door that led back to the hall, and
fled. Eynsford watched her go, cursing under his breath.
Pierce, who had
returned to his post, handed Letitia her spencer and hat, and when she was
ready, bowed as he opened the door for her with an impassive face. “Good
afternoon, Lady Morgan,” he said calmly. She lifted her chin and exited, her
cheeks slightly flushed.
A few minutes
later, Eynsford also appeared. Pierce turned to the marquess, “Your hat, my
lord,” he said, handing him his tall, curled brim beaver.