Page 43 of Presenting Miss Letitia (Once a Wallflower 1)

“Well, that’s to the good then.” Arietta poured out another cup of tea from the pot. “If the business is hushed up, I’m sure nothing will come of it.”

Letty had little fear that the ton would hear about it. Whitehall would surely draw a cloak of secrecy over it. She ate the last of the cake, sipped her tea, and watched Arietta blow her nose, wondering if she would give up her quest now to uncover the truth behind her husband’s death. She seemed, thankfully, to have lost interest in Brandon.

“I’m sorry about the costume,” Letty said.

“A trifling matter, my dear. Don’t give it another thought. On a lighter note, your court gown has arrived. Adele has placed it in your wardrobe.”

A surge of anxiety tightened Letty’s stomach. Her curtsey to the queen was looming, and her uncle and aunt eager to hear of it. “Shouldn’t I do more to prepare for my presentation, Arietta?”

“There is not much to do. I shall go through the details of the ceremony with you tomorrow, and if your ankle is better, you can practice until your entry and exit from the room, and your curtsy, are perfect.”

“Thank you, Arietta.” Letty’s voice trembled. How on earth would she explain to Uncle Alford if she missed it? The suggestion of an ankle injury would bring him to London. “I’m so grateful for your generosity.”

“Nonsense. It is my pleasure as I’ve told you.” Arietta kissed Letty’s cheek. “You must rest now, for you look quite drained. It’s important you look your best, for I have accepted two engagements for this week.” She stood. “Now, I shall order a light supper to be sent to you after you’ve had a nice long rest. Best to stay quietly in your room tonight.”

“Yes, Arietta,” Letty said meekly.

When Arietta had gone, Letty rushed to the wardrobe. The gown held no surprises, she had tried it on twice, but hoped somehow it would become something more pleasing. It had not. It was still an odd style with its wide hoop, flat at the front, the waist sitting just beneath the short low-cut bodice. It seemed to represent something to be endured rather than enjoyed. She could not think of it now and shut the wardrobe door.

With the intention of going over everything that had occurred after she was snatched from the masquerade, Letty crawled onto her bed. But once she rested her head on the pillow, her eyelids grew heavy and she drifted into sleep.

Letty woke at a knock on the door. “Come in.”

The footman entered, carrying a tray. “I hope you are feeling better, Miss Bromley.” He smiled at her and placed it on a table.

“I am. Thank you, Joseph.” Letty breathed in the tasty aromas filling the room and discovered she was hungry again.

She sat at the table and sipped from a fortifying glass of red wine. Chicken soup, thinly sliced ham, salad, bread, and a slice of apple tart. She sighed, so relieved to be back in comfortable and safe surroundings.

Some hours later, filled with renewed energy, she glanced at the mantel clock. Eleven o’clock. Perhaps Arietta was still awake and might welcome some company.

Letty knocked on Arietta’s bedchamber door but received no answer. Returning to her room, she quickly dressed in her blue cambric that buttoned down the front, donned her house slippers, tidied her hair, and descended the staircase. The marble foyer stood empty, the butler having retired and the footman who was to replace him, not in position.

The salon lay in darkness, but light rimmed the drawing room doors. The voices were too soft to guess who it might be. A dinner guest? Letty’s hand hovered indecisively over the latch. It might not please Arietta should she interrupt them. As she turned away, the voices grew louder. Arietta raised her voice, and Letty distinctly heard her say the man’s name. Pierse.

Startled, Letty backed away, turned, and hurried down the corridor. Pierse was the Frenchman who’d been with Fraughton in the library when she and Brandon hid in the closet.

The footman now at his station in the entry hall, stared at her.

Letty slowed her steps and forced a smile. “I wished for some chocolate,” she said, a hand on the banister-rail. “I didn’t want to disturb the staff, and was going to make it myself, as I often do in Cumbria.”

“Might I fetch some for you, Miss Bromley?”

“No, thank you, Joseph. I’ve changed my mind.” She yawned. bringing a hand to her mouth. “I find myself most awfully sleepy. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Miss Bromley.”

As she hurried up the stairs, she heard the door to the drawing room open.

Letty reached the landing as they entered the front hall.

“It was good of you to call, Monsieur Pierse.” Arietta’s voice floated up. “You must be fatigued having just arrived from France.”

“A little perhaps,” Pierse replied. “We shall meet again, soon, oui?”

The front door closed on him. Letty hovered on the landing while Arietta spoke to Joseph, wondering if the footman would give her away. She sagged with relief when he didn’t. Arietta said goodnight and began to climb the stairs.

Her heart pounding, Letty ran lightly over the carpet to her bedchamber. As she pulled her gown over her head, a seam ripped. She kicked off her slippers, then shoved the lot into

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