Chapter Sixteen
Letitia couldn’t believe it was already Friday. She had expected the past three days to drag on with Greyson gone. She spent most of them with Simon in the nursery and outside in the garden. They even took a carriage ride with his governess.
She almost wanted to stay home today, but she had the Barstow Garden Party to attend and looked forward to seeing Anastasia and Aurora.
She had received notes from both Emmeline and Lilly stating they were fine but not up to attending.
Indeed, they were probably tired from being with child.
Letitia remembered well how tired she had been carrying Simon.
She was dressed in a pretty pale-yellow dress with a matching pelisse, wide-brimmed bonnet, and parasol. The hat and parasol were originally meant to protect her from the sun. Now they would protect her from the rain.
Barstow Estates lay on the outskirts of London and bordered the River Thames.
It was unfortunate that the weather was so foul.
Letitia knew everyone would make the best of it, though.
When she left her townhouse, a footman held an umbrella over her head so she didn’t need to open her parasol or figure out how to enter the carriage while maneuvering it.
When they arrived at the impressive estate, carriages lined the driveway, waiting for their passengers to disembark.
It was a slower-than-normal process because of the weather, but eventually it was Letitia’s turn.
Her footman opened the door and, once again, held an umbrella over her.
She pulled up her skirts and picked her way around the puddles to keep her half boots from getting wet.
Normally, she would wear slippers or shoes, but not on a rainy day.
She’d be stuck in soaking-wet shoes all day if she had.
When she entered the estate, she handed her hat, parasol, and pelisse to the butler. She greeted her host and hostess on the upstairs landing outside the ballroom, which Letitia could see was decorated like the outdoors. How exciting and festive.
“Lady Barstow,” Letitia curtsied. “I’m pleased to be among your guests today.”
“I hope you enjoy yourself, Lady Rutherford.”
“I’m sure I will.” She curtsied again. “Lord Barstow, I am pleased to see you again.”
“And I you.”
Before she entered the ballroom, she took a few deep breaths.
Receiving lines terrified her. She was thankful they hadn’t mentioned Graham.
He and Lord Barstow went back to their Eton days.
Their eldest daughter was in her second season, and they were, most likely, hosting this party to give her a boost. Their daughter, Lady Samantha, was charming once you got to know her, but her shyness made it difficult to do so.
She wished her well and much success in finding a husband.
Having woolgathered, her nerves had settled enough for her to enter the crush already filling the ballroom.
Standing off to the side, she glanced around the room, seeking out Anastasia and Aurora, or even Hunter or Lord Warren.
After two loops around the room, she finally found the four of them sitting on a quilt on the floor, a large picnic basket between them.
Her heart dropped. They didn’t need her joining their little private party.
Instead, she wandered around the room, looking for someone, anyone she recognized.
Her heart rose at the sight of Lady Samantha sitting with a young lady she didn’t know.
Making her way to them, she hoped they wouldn’t mind if she joined their picnic.
“Lady Samantha,” Letitia said with a smile. “May I join you and your friend?”
“Yes, please,” Lady Samantha said, relief evident on her face.
She sat on the soft quilt, her legs bent and off to one side. After she tucked in her skirts, convinced no ankle or, God forbid, a calf showed, she sighed and looked to the other occupant of the blanket. “Good afternoon, I’m Lady Rutherford, but please call me Letitia.”
The stranger frowned, giving her the impression that she wasn’t a friendly person.
“I’m Lady Rose Templeton.” She raised her head just enough to stick her nose up and look down at her, confirming her unfriendly first impression. “My father is the Duke of Templeton.”
Now Letitia understood the relief on Samantha’s face. “How fortunate for you.” She rearranged herself to face Samantha. “How are you? I haven’t seen you since the Westport ball at the start of the Season.”
“I am well. I twisted my ankle at a soirée and had to miss several weeks of socializing, but I’m all healed.”
“Thank goodness. How painful it must have been.”
“It was.” She frowned. “Mother thought I was feigning, but I wasn’t, honestly.”
Letitia reached forward and touched her hand. “I know you weren’t. Why would anyone feign such an injury? Not with all the exhilarating functions to attend.”
“That’s what I told Mother.” She lowered her voice. “May I ask you a personal question I’ve always wondered about?”
“You may ask. I may answer or not.” Oh dear, when someone wanted to ask a personal question, it was never a good sign from her experience.
“I understand you were married to Lord Rutherford, and he was my father’s closest friend.
Why did we never meet? Why did you never accompany him when he visited?
I never believed him when he said you were sickly, especially when his cousin accompanied him.
He didn’t treat her as one would a cousin. ”
Letitia wanted to turn and look at Rose to see if she’d heard Samantha, but she chose not to.
It wouldn’t change the facts. Tears burned in her eyes, and she refused to shed them.
Rutherford told people she was sickly? How could he?
And to flaunt his mistress in public, passing her off as his cousin? His deception knew no bounds.
“The truth is,” Letitia whispered, “I don’t know.”
Now it was Samantha’s turn to comfort her by touching her hand. “I’m sorry. I heard from my mother that Viscount Greyson is courting you. Is it true?”
Heat kissed her cheeks. “Yes.”
“Mother had hoped for a match between him and me last Season, but he wasn’t interested.” She exhaled. “I’m happy for you. You deserve to be happy.”
Letitia leaned forward and murmured, “Is there a young gentleman who’s caught your eye?”
By the blush staining her cheeks, she had her answer. Just not the who.
Samantha leaned forward, and they were very close. “There is. He sends me letters because, like me, he is shy. He is actually here today. I don’t think Mother knows about the letters, but I could be wrong. It could be why he received an invitation for today.”
“Do I know him?” Letitia asked.
“I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head.
“If you trust me, whisper his name in my ear.”
And she whispered his name. “Lord Bradley.”
“Ahh.” Letitia had never been formally introduced, but she recognized his name from Debrett’s and remembered he was worth a good deal of money, owned several estates, and had a townhouse in Mayfair. She was shocked; she remembered all that. “Have you spoken in person?”
“Once, when we were introduced. After I twisted my ankle, he wrote me long letters. He writes beautiful poetry. He’s sitting a few blankets over by himself. He has red hair and is wearing a blue jacket.”
She found him. He was hard to miss. “He’s sitting alone. Why don’t we join him?” Letitia suggested. Samantha’s cheeks were no longer pink, but stark white. “It was just an idea,” she quickly added.
It was then that Letitia noticed Lady Rose was no longer sitting with them.
She glanced around for her, which was hard while sitting down, since many guests were standing around.
She didn’t see Lady Rose, but she did see Lord Bradley, strolling very slowly toward them.
His complexion was pale with freckles. If memory served her from Debrett’s, he was twenty-five.
However, he looked like a sixteen-year-old lad.
She felt sorry for him. It must be hard to be taken seriously when one looked so young and was shy.
“Don’t look now, but he is almost upon us. ”
“Who?” Samantha asked, looking ready to cast up her accounts.
“Breathe. This is what you want. He is who you want.”
“Excuse me,” Lord Bradley said in a deep voice. Letitia was shocked that it came from him.
Samantha turned her head and looked up at him. “Lord Bradley.”
He bowed stiffly. “Lady Samantha, would you care to take a stroll around the room?” He held out his hands.
Perhaps he wasn’t as shy as Samantha believed.
Without even turning around to say goodbye to her, Samantha said, “Yes.” She took both his hands as he helped her rise to her feet. She turned back as she walked arm in arm with Lord Bradley, looked right at her, and smiled.
A few moments later, she heard, “I didn’t believe Aurora when she said you were here. And you’re sitting alone.” Anastasia’s voice came from above.
“Please help me.”
Anastasia reached down. Letitia joined hands with hers and was tugged up to stand on legs that had turned numb from her awkward position on the quilt.
“Can you walk with me?” she asked. “My legs are asleep.”
“Where? This place is a crush.”
“We’ll weave around the blankets, hoping not to step on anyone’s fingers or toes,” Letitia giggled.
“Are you well?” Anastasia asked, frowning. “Have you had too much wine?”
“Goodness me, I’ve had nothing. Is there any wine?”
“Perhaps Aurora and I should take you home. You don’t seem yourself.”
“Forgive me,” Letitia said. “I’m in a strange mood today.
” Seeing the Earl and Countess of Barstow was disconcerting.
Then her conversation with Samantha about Rutherford added another layer.
She’d say her mood was odd. “I want you and Aurora to stay and enjoy the indoor picnic, but I’m going to take my leave.
I’m no longer in the mood for socializing. ”
“What happened?” Anastasia asked, looking concerned.
“Perhaps another time. Go back to Hunter and give my best to him, Aurora, and Warren.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “But we’ll miss you.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Do you miss my brother?”
As if she didn’t have enough emotional unrest to handle, Anastasia had to bring up Greyson.
Tears threatened, and she blinked them away.
“Yes. Now I must go.” She couldn’t hear what Anastasia was saying because she needed to get out of there fast and still needed to thank the hosts.
Fortunately, they were by the entrance to the ballroom, so she stopped briefly to pay her respects.
Down the stairs she went. She retrieved her things from the butler and requested her coach, for which the butler sent a footman out into the rain.
She felt bad for the footman. He always had to go out in bad weather. And now he had to find her driver.
It was a long five minutes before the footman returned, with rain dripping from his clothing. “Your carriage outside, my lady.”
“Thank you.”
The butler opened the door, and her footman was there with an umbrella ready.
Such efficiency. She hurried down the stairs, her footman keeping pace.
He opened the door and helped her inside without a single raindrop landing on her head.
Inside, as the carriage wheels rolled, she finally let the tears fall.
She hated feeling sorry for herself, but after hearing Samantha say she was sickly and that Rutherford had brought his cousin—or rather his mistress—in her place, how could she not?
With the rain and the roads, she had perhaps an hour’s drive before she arrived home.
An hour to cry and feel sorry for herself.
After that, it was chin up and no more self-pity.
Half of the tears she shed were for herself and what Rutherford had done to her, and the other half were for Greyson and how much she missed him.
He’d been gone three days. He’d said he’d be gone, most likely, a fortnight.
Suddenly chilled, she reached for the blanket beside her, covered her lap, and closed her eyes.
Perhaps a nap would make her feel better.
The carriage stopped, and the door opening startled her awake. She stared at the footman’s gloved hand.
“My lady. We have returned home.”
“Thank you.” She placed her hand in his and stepped out of the carriage. The first thing she noticed was that the rain had stopped. She entered the townhouse and handed Mr. Henry her hat and parasol. “When did it stop raining?”
“About an hour ago, my lady,” he replied.
“I’m going to my chambers. Please have Cook send up a tea tray.”
“Yes, my lady.”
The nap she took in the carriage had left her sleepy and foggy, and she looked forward to relaxing for the rest of the day. Jane was waiting for her in her chambers. “I want my night rail and robe. I don’t plan to leave my chambers again today.”
“Yes, my lady.” Jane disappeared into the dressing room and returned a moment later with her night clothes. Letitia stood still as Jane removed her picnic outfit and dressed her in her nightclothes.
“Cook is bringing up a tea tray. Will you set it on the table beside the chaise longue? I’ll undo my hair.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Letitia sat at her dressing table and pulled out all the pins. She ran her hands through her tresses, searching for any missed pins. She found two. Picking up her brush, she ran it through her hair to remove any tangles, then went to her chaise longue and rested on it.
“Would you like a blanket and a pillow, my lady?” Jane asked.
“Yes, Jane. That would be nice.”
Jane placed a pillow behind her back, tucked her in with a soft blanket, then hurried to answer the knock at the door. She returned with a tea tray and put it down on the table next to the chaise longue. “Thank you, Jane. You may go.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Once Jane left, Letitia decided she was too tired to do anything but snuggle down and sleep. And sleep she did. In fact, she spent the next two days in bed with an upset stomach and cramps, a reminder that her courses were due.