Page 2 of Presenting Miss Letitia (Once a Wallflower 1)

She put her hands on her hips. “You sound like my uncle!”

“Aye. He’s a wise one,” Geoffrey said annoyingly.

Letty huffed and turned to leave.

“Won’t take a minute to hitch up the gig. I’ll drive you home,” he said with a glance at the sky beyond the doorway. “More snow’s coming.”

“It’s hours off.” She walked outside.

“Have it your own way,” he called after her. “You always do.” He appeared at the stable doorway. “By the way, they won’t let you gallop in Rotten Row, you know!”

Disappointed that he hadn’t welcomed the exciting news, she stomped out across the meadow, the grass crackling beneath her feet. She refused to allow him to put a damper on her trip. It wasn’t that she wished to marry a prince, or a duke, or really, to marry at all—at least not for years. She merely wanted to have an adventure. As did her Aunt Lydia, whose incredible life in the early years of the last century had been recorded in her diaries.

Letty returned to them again and again, for they had struck a chord in her, the pages filled with adventure and danger on the high seas, reaching out to her from the past. While she didn’t aspire to a swashbuckling romance, she did wish her life to be as thrilling as Lydia’s. A portrait of her was once hung in the gallery at her parent’s home. As Uncle Alford had no love for such things, it must be stored away somewhere. She had dark hair, and Letty imagined herself to be a little like her.

The bird

calls and the bleating of sheep became muffled as flurries of snow began to fall, icy upon her face. Annoyed that Geoffrey had been proven right, she put her head down and began to run.

The snowfall grew heavier, covering the road and the trees in a blanket of white, and threatening to blind her. Shivering, she picked her way over the ground, visualizing hot coffee and muffins. The vicarage gate appeared at last. Her face numb with cold, she hurried up the icy path to the door. Entering the warm vicarage, the thought of a new wardrobe made her smile as she sat and pulled off her wet boots.

“Is that you Letitia?” Her uncle stuck his head out of the study.

“Yes, Uncle.”

“You should not have gone out. I told you it would snow.”

“Mm, Geoffrey said the same.”

“Well he would. He’s a sensible fellow.”

Letty shook her head and climbed the stairs.

The afternoon before they left for London, Letty called in to Jane’s home to say goodbye.

In her modest parlor, Jane placed a cup and saucer before Letty on the table. She sat and passed Letty the plate of gingerbread. “It is my dear hope that you meet the love of your life.”

Letty smiled at her as she took a piece. “I am looking forward to the experience, but if I come home without a husband, I shan’t be too disappointed.”

Jane laughed. “I returned to Cumbria without one and found the love of my life right here in the village. Perhaps you will, too?”

“That isn’t likely to happen to me,” Letty said.

Jane raised her auburn eyebrows above quizzical green eyes. “So, not Geoffrey?”

“No. Although Uncle Alford wishes me to marry him.”

“Don’t marry anyone you don’t feel passion for, Letty. Life would be too long and dreary without feeling that way about your husband.” Jane’s freckled cheeks flushed.

“I couldn’t wish for a better marriage than yours and Gordon’s.” It was wonderful to see how much they cared for each other. Letty smiled and took a bite of the gingerbread, a little envious.

“Please write when you can. I want to hear all the thrilling news,” Jane said, pouring them another cup.

“If I have something thrilling to write about,” Letty said with a deep breath.

“Of course you will! Just think, Letty, the balls! And all those handsome gentlemen waltzing you around the floor!”

Letty giggled and leapt up to perform a deep curtsey. “And don’t forget my curtsey to Queen Charlotte!”

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