Page 48 of Presenting Miss Letitia (Once a Wallflower 1)

“What an extraordinarily brave woman.”

Willard leaned back in his chair. “Indeed. Her husband was furnished with a passport and has since crossed the border into Belgium. And so ends stage one.”

“Elford and Decrier’s lawyers won’t get them off this,” Brandon said. “And stage two?”

“To free the comtesse,” Willard said.

Brandon nodded. “I am eager to see that done.”

“Like to be involved in it?”

“Perhaps.”

“But before we discuss that possibility, you should know that the Regent has taken special note of this treasonous affair. The prince likes to best Bonaparte in any way he can. Even if the general is beaten. His highness is most pleased.”

“I can quite see he would be,” Brandon observed. “The Regent hated that Bonaparte was a superb strategist and soldier, something he could never achieve himself.”

“Now, a matter of lesser importance to us, but not Mrs. Willard. She is holding a musicale here this evening. My niece is to sing for us.”

Brandon’s eyes widened. “The niece who makes her debut this Season?”

“The same.” Willard chuckled. “Never fear, Angela won’t bite. At least I don’t think she will.”

Brandon grinned. It would be the perfect distraction. He’d stop wondering how Letty’s presentation had gone, and if she was well and safe. He had an urgent desire to see her to banish his concerns, and also to tell her what had occurred since they parted. But he was unable to disclose much of it. To give in to the impulse to see her was unwise as his next mission would take him out of the country. Now that Lady Arietta was of interest to the Home Office, it was to be hoped that Letty would soon return to Cumbria. The fact that she might meet a possible husband before she did, was something he refused to contemplate.

Chapter Eighteen

The Willard’s double-drawing room was filled with guests. Letty had little expectation of finding Brandon there and was surprised when he entered, handsome in midnight blue and crisp white evening clothes. He spied her and nodded before turning to talk to his host and hostess.

Letty bit her lip, dismayed by how much she cared for him. She’d caught the signs of strain around his eyes. It was all she could do not to rush over and ask him what had happened since she had last seen him. There was so much she wanted him to tell her, and although she felt in some way entitled to a few crumbs after all she’d been through with him, she couldn’t expect him to reveal government secrets. She supposed she’d never learn from Brandon if Marston was imprisoned with the others, and certainly not here, where they would be overheard. But somehow, she must find a way to tell him about Pierse.

Arietta had taken one of the seats arranged around the pianoforte, and she was forced to join her. The elegant room decorated in burgundy wallpaper and gilt molding, was filled with the polite murmur of guests seating themselves and preparing to be entertained. Afterward, a supper was to be served, and tables set up in the salon for those who wished to play cards.

A hush came over the room as the pianist walked in and bowed to polite applause. He threw up the tails of his coat and sat before the pianoforte, massaging his hands. Mrs. Willard came to stand before them. “Miss Angela Willard, will this evening sing for you a lyric aria by Mozart.”

Angela was close to Letty in age. In a white muslin gown, her hair caught up with pearl combs, she stood demurely but quite confidently before them whilst the pianist played the introduction. Then, her hands clasped at her waist, she began to sing. Her pure voice soared and sent prickles down Letty’s spine. She sat transfixed as the beautiful music flowed over her. No one moved, no gentlemen’s feet shuffled, even the ladies’ fans stilled. When Miss Willard’s voice died away, there was silence, and then the audience erupted to their feet. They clapped and demanded an encore.

Miss Willard, flushed but composed, sang another by Mozart which was just as wonderful.

After the concert had ended, everyone rushed to congratulate her before slowly gravitating to the next room where supper was served.

Letty, still very much moved by Angela’s lovely voice, entered with Arietta. Her gaze, sweeping the room, failed to locate Brandon.

As they filled their plates with the sumptuous foods on offer, she spied him in the corridor outside. He talked to a blonde lady in black lace whose back was to Letty. She reached up a black glove to touch his cheek. He leaned over her, a strong emotion in his eyes, which Letty could not decipher, then he took the lady’s hand and tucked it into his arm, leading her through the open double doors.

It was Lady Fraughton.

Letty dropped the piece of lobster patty she held on her fork, back onto her plate. It didn’t help that she had no right to feel this sense of betrayal. Brandon owed her nothing. But somehow, it made her slightly sick to see him with her, while Fraughton was barely cold in his grave.

“Do you not care for the food, Letitia?” Arietta asked at her elbow.

Letty turned away from the unwelcome sight of Brandon and Lady Fraughton together. “It’s delicious, but I am still so moved by Miss Willard’s singing, I can barely manage a bite.”

“Why there’s Mr. Cartwright, Letitia,” Arietta murmured, gazing over her shoulder. “Don’t you wish to speak to him? He may have some news.”

Letty turned. Lady Fraughton had left him. Brandon now talked to Mr. Willard. Despite still deeply disapproving of Brandon’s flirtation, she must speak to him. “I should not like to interrupt them. Perhaps, when he is free.”

Arietta’s suggestion raised the opportunity for them to have a private conversation. Letty fought to bring her disappointment under control. She would not forget her manners again, and certainly not amongst the Willard’s elegant guests.

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