Page 51 of Presenting Miss Letitia (Once a Wallflower 1)

“You have formed a tender for the young lady.”

“She is remarkable, I grant you. But I am not about to involve her in my disorderly life.”

“Then change your life.” Willard rose. “I must return to my guests or risk Veronica’s wrath.”

Brandon stood. “We men are greatly put upon.”

“You have experienced nothing yet. Wait until you have a wife and daughters.”

Brandon couldn’t conceive of such a life, but conceded it might be pleasant to have a family. As they left the room, he reminded himself of his father’s opinion of him as the family’s black sheep. He would do well to remember it.

Chapter Nineteen

At breakfast the next morning, Letty was forced to admit that her distaste at seeing Brandon with Lady Fraughton was not ent

irely due to the couple’s past association. She was jealous. When she’d seen others struggle with jealousy, she’d been a little contemptuous of them, sure that she would never succumb to such a lowly emotion herself.

And her heated response to seeing them standing close, and appearing so familiar with each other, disturbed her more than she liked to admit. She’d dismissed Brandon’s advice out of hand, when he expressed a genuine concern for her safety. She should have been grateful. Her parting comment was unforgiveable. If only she could have been more reasonable. If only he hadn’t been so…bossy.

But thinking on it now, she doubted it would have made a penny’s worth of difference. He wanted nothing from her but her promise to leave Arietta’s house. So, they had reached an impasse. He wanted her gone while she had no intention of abandoning her kind patroness until she was sure there was proof that Arietta was guilty of some crime.

“Did Cartwright tell you anything of interest?” Arietta inquired on the way home in the carriage.

“No, we only had a moment before some people came out onto the balcony. It’s unlikely he would have,” she said. “I doubt our paths will cross again.” This seemed to sustain Arietta for she’d lapsed into a thoughtful silence for the rest of the journey.

The next day, an article about Robert Marston’s untimely death while rock climbing, an apparent favorite sport of his, appeared in The Gazette, beneath an article about the corruption and the shady dealings plaguing London and the need for better policing.

Letty would love to know what involvement Brandon had in his death, but perhaps it was better not to know. The whole sordid business should be relegated to the past. Were they being watched? She rose from the table and walked to the breakfast room window which overlooked the small kitchen garden and the mews in the back lane. She could see no one about, except the groom she knew was one of Arietta’s washing the carriage. Annoyed with herself, she turned away. Brandon might well have told her if she’d kept a cool head and asked him. It would have been comforting to know that the house was being watched.

Arietta came into the room in her dressing gown. “What shall we do today? You decide. We might go to see the Egyptian artifacts at the British museum, or an exhibition at the art gallery.”

“I’ve always wanted to see the museum,” Letty said. “If you care to? I’m sure you have already been there.”

“There is always something new to see in the museum. So, we shall,” Arietta said with her genial smile. “I have a few letters to dispatch beforehand. Shall we go at eleven?”

Some hours later at the museum, they studied the mysterious hieroglyphic languages of the Rosetta Stone, which was discovered during Napoleon’s Egypt Campaign, before being brought to England. And displays of Egyptian friezes, ancient pottery, and stuffed wild animals.

The displays, as fascinating as they were, failed to prevent Letty’s thoughts from returning to Brandon. Surely, she was not being overly romantic to believe that from that first unfortunate beginning, there had been a strong link between them. And while she told herself it was Arietta’s demands that sent her after him, it was also a desire to know him, to understand him, and then, to be close to him.

His dictatorial manner, which made her wish to give him a good set down on more than one occasion, failed to dampen her desire for his company. It perplexed her, that despite what they’d been through, she felt safe when with him. Her heart beat faster when he came near, and when he smiled at her, she felt somehow special. It didn’t matter what he had done in his life. She instinctively knew him to be a good man. Had sensed it in their first meeting. She sighed as she stood sightlessly before a glass display filled with grotesque ceramic masks. It appeared she was a sad case. She admitted that she had tumbled into love with him and could gloomily foresee returning to Cumbria with a heavy heart after their last meeting had ended badly.

“You are in a brown study, today, my pet,” Arietta said. “Shall we have afternoon tea at the Piazza? It might brighten you up.”

Letty smiled. “Am I being tedious? I am sorry, and suppose I’m a little tired. I should like tea.”

“Early to bed tonight, Letitia. You have been through a lot. I don’t wish to see dark shadows beneath your eyes. We have yet to find a suitor you approve of, and I am determined not to send you back to Cumbria at the end of the Season without you becoming engaged. There’s Mrs. Royston’s picnic at Richmond Park, tomorrow, perhaps some charming gentleman will attend.”

This declaration failed to excite any enthusiasm in Letty. Arietta had set herself an impossible task, for no man would measure up to Brandon in her eyes. But she smiled and thanked her, opening her umbrella and holding it over Arietta’s head, her arm tucked in hers as they left the museum. The weather was as dreary as her spirits. It had so far proved to be a cold spring with dull skies, said to be caused by a violent volcanic eruption somewhere else in the world.

As if she’d come down with some malaise, Arietta fussed over Letty that evening, even escorting her up to her bedchamber, and later coming to say goodnight. She turned to smile at the door. “Sleep well, my dear.”

When the door closed, Letty lay in the dark, her mind too busy for sleep. She slipped from the bed. There was no movement in the street below. Had what she told Brandon been of no importance? She’d half expected someone to call during the afternoon to question Arietta, and indeed had been on tenterhooks, fearing they would give her away, but no one had come.

Letty settled back into bed, determined to sleep. She managed to drift off, but woke again some time later. She stared into the dark, unsure what had awakened her. She started up at a muffled cry, threw back the bedclothes and lit her candle. Outside her room, the corridor was empty. Over the banister rail, the hall downstairs was a well of darkness. She crept to Arietta’s bedchamber, fearing it might have been her. Candlelight flicked under the door. She put her ear to it to listen.

Another soft cry.

Letty put her candle down on the hall table, opened the door, and stepped inside. With only a small candle lit, most of the room lay in shadow, and for a moment, Letty couldn’t make out the two bodies writhing on the bed. They were caught up in their passion, both naked, Arietta’s pale body entwined with that of a swarthy, dark-haired man.

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