Chapter Nineteen #2
“Thank you,” Letitia said, hugging Emmeline back.
“You are a good friend.” She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and fought back the tears gathering in her eyes.
She wouldn’t embarrass herself by crying in front of the duchess.
She would cry in the privacy of her chambers after she took Emeline’s advice and took a relaxing bath.
She also had no social engagement for tonight, which was good, because all she wanted to do was have a good cry and sleep away her broken heart.
*
The morning after Letitia found out that Greyson had lied about his father, she sat up in bed, her breakfast tray across her lap, yawning.
Sleep had eluded her for most of the previous night, and she had the beginnings of a dull headache to match her poor mood.
The lie Greyson had told her was nothing compared to the lies Rutherford told during their marriage.
How foolish and na?ve she’d been when she entered their marriage at eighteen.
All his trips to his clubs and dinners out with friends were spent with his mistress and their children.
His natural-born children. He lived another life with another woman.
She’d often wondered whether their marriage meant anything.
She understood at the beginning of their marriage that he’d married her to produce a legitimate heir.
But as the years went by and they suited one another, she’d thought they had shared much more than that.
She learned after his death from their solicitor that he had set up a trust for his other family and that they were well cared for.
She was at least glad he had looked to the future and planned for his death.
She often thought about reaching out, since she knew the woman’s name.
But her embarrassment and pride stopped her.
Even though she knew why Rutherford had lied to her, she didn’t know the extent of those lies.
Nor how they affected her. How insecure they made her.
How she believed she wasn’t enough of a wife to satisfy her husband.
She knew she wasn’t enough for Rutherford, but she also believed it would be the same if and when she married again.
She tried to make herself understand that Rutherford had been in love with his mistress for ten years before they’d even met.
Though Rutherford had cared for Letitia, he never loved her as he loved his mistress.
And nothing she had done or not done would ever have changed the facts of his life before her.
But it still hurt. Her heart still ached at the truth.
On the night her husband died, something happened to her besides the trauma of witnessing him fall to his death.
It triggered a connection between lying, death, and guilt.
She knew it wasn’t rational, but she couldn’t help what her mind believed.
Greyson’s lie to her made her fear his death and triggered the debilitating guilt she felt after Rutherford’s death.
If he hadn’t lied, if she hadn’t gotten angry and argued with him, he would still be alive.
In her mind, the sequence of events started with the lie and ended with death.
Upon discovering Greyson’s lie, it sparked these fears in her.
Indeed, she was upset he lied and he would have to explain his reasoning at some point, but until then she would struggle with her irrational fears.
She sipped her hot chocolate and picked at her eggs and toast. Nothing tasted good.
It was bland and flavorless. While Jane was busy in the dressing room, preparing her clothes for the day, she set the breakfast tray aside.
Tossed the covers off her body and left the warm bed, shivering as she put her dressing robe on.
Making her way over to the fireplace, which had been set, she stood in front of the warm blaze and sighed deeply.
What was she going to do about Greyson? So many scenarios had run through her mind during her sleepless night.
Some were so ridiculous she almost laughed at the memory.
Most left her heartbroken, tears soaking her pillow.
Should she ignore his lie and pretend all was well between them?
Even if she did, his sisters would no doubt mention their conversation in Emmeline’s drawing room.
Then he would know she knew he had lied to her.
What a dilemma. Deep down, where her heart was hiding, she wanted to forgive him. She believed he had a good reason for the lie and could still hope that it wouldn’t happen again. Emmeline had given her wise advice, and perhaps she would consider using it.
“My lady,” Jane said, stepping out of the dressing room with her arms full. “Are you ready to dress?”
“Yes, Jane. I’m going to call upon Lady Anastasia and Lady Aurora this morning.” After Letitia was dressed in a pale-blue day dress and pelisse, Jane styled her hair in a neat chignon low on her neck so her yellow bonnet would fit perfectly.
“Please go tell Mr. Henry to have the carriage brought around.”
“Yes, my lady.”
She made her way to the drawing room, looking out the front windows while awaiting the arrival of the carriage. Lost in thoughts of Greyson, when Mr. Henry announced that the carriage had arrived, she was startled. She hadn’t seen it pull up.
“I’ll be right there, Mr. Henry.” Taking a deep breath, she raised one hand, and her gloved fingertips grazed her bonnet.
Nothing was out of place, so she couldn’t put off her excursion to Danbury Hall any longer.
Exiting the drawing room, she paused as Mr. Henry bowed and opened the door.
She descended the several steps and entered the coach as a footman held the door open.
Once he closed the door, he knocked on the roof, and her driver, Mr. Burke, set the horses and wheels in motion at a steady pace.
Her insides quivered, and she leaned back against the squabs, wrapping her arms around her stomach.
She had second thoughts about visiting Danbury Hall.
Yesterday, it hadn’t felt right, but today she felt she needed to.
She didn’t have much to discuss with Anastasia and Aurora, since she’d seen them yesterday, but of course this visit was a ruse to see Greyson and gauge his reaction to her coming to his home.
Oh dear, she covered her mouth and fought the urge to gag.
“Stop this, Letitia. You are making yourself sick with worry.” If only she would listen to herself.
When the carriage came to a halt, she almost yelled at the driver to go home.
Instead, a footman from Danbury Hall opened the door and offered her his hand.
She took it, hoping he didn’t notice how it shook.
“Thank you,” she said as she stepped onto the pavement, then made her way up the stairs and through the door the butler already held open.
She handed over her calling card. “I’m here to see Lady Anastasia and Lady Aurora. ”
The butler bowed. “Yes, Lady Rutherford. Come with me.”
She followed him up one flight of stairs to a set of double doors, partly ajar. He opened them wide and announced, “Lady Rutherford.” It was the same drawing room she’d been in when she’d come for the celebratory engagement dinner. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
Both Anastasia and Aurora rose from their seats on one of the two blue velvet settees and closed the distance between them. “Letitia,” Anastasia said, taking her hands. “What a lovely surprise. Come sit down and have tea with us.”
“Yes, do,” Aurora said as the three of them sat down. Letitia settled into the vacant settee.
“We are thrilled by your visit, but did we not see you yesterday?” Aurora said, pouring her a cup of tea. “Milk and sugar?”
“Yes, please. I saw you both yesterday, but I thought I would stop by today.”
“We’re glad you did,” Anastasia said with a smile and an inquisitive look. “But if you are calling on us hoping to see our brother, you will be sorely disappointed. We were told he left early this morning.”
She ignored the silent tumble her stomach took at the knowledge that he was not home. “It would’ve been nice to see him, but that is not why I came,” she lied, which she despised.
“Both Anastasia and I wanted to say thank you for the engagement presents. They were perfect. Also, Warren and Hunter were both thrilled with their brandy decanter and matching glasses.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Letitia replied. “Where is Charity?”
“She has a headache and is resting,” Anastasia answered.
“I’m sorry to hear this. Give her my regards.”
They made small talk for the remainder of her visit, discussing wedding plans.
Thirty minutes later, she bid them farewell and left Danbury Hall with a heavy heart and a more jumbled-up mind.
Until she came face-to-face with Greyson and talked things through, she would be a mess of contradictory emotions.
Instead of going home, she had the driver take her to Bond Street and to her modiste, Madame Serena.
She had been there several days earlier and had picked out the green-and-gold evening dress, but she was in the mood for something else.
She entered the crowded shop and looked over bolts of fabric while she waited for Madame Serena to come out of the back room.
Perhaps she should’ve made an appointment.
She was just about to leave when she heard, “Lady Rutherford, how nice to see you again. How may I help you?”
“I would like to order a ball gown.”
“Come,” she said, holding back the curtain separating the storefront from the back.
“Thank you.”
“Do you have a color in mind?”
“I do. Do you have any blue fabric?”
“Yes.” She went to a shelf full of bolts of cloth in every color and fabric, and pulled out a beautiful sky-blue taffeta. “This just arrived yesterday.”
“It’s perfect.” After reviewing several style plates, she combined several to create the perfect ball gown and matching cloak. Then they went over trimmings and embellishments until Madame Serena had everything set aside.
“I will send a note when it’s ready for your fitting sometime next week,” Madame Serena said. “It’s going to be the most beautiful gown I’ve created yet.”
Letitia found herself laughing and feeling more like herself. “You say that every time someone orders a new gown.”
“Yes. And I mean it every time,” Madame Serena laughed.
Letitia left the modiste with a lighter heart and walked down Bond Street, window-shopping and enjoying the bright, sunny day.
Since it was mid-October, it would be too cold to enjoy window-shopping much longer, especially if it snowed.
She stopped outside a clock shop and listened to the sounds coming from inside.
The proprietor, who designed the clocks, was a true master.
She knew his clocks graced many royal homes.
Several of his clocks also resided in Rutherford Manor.
One masterpiece sat on Rutherford’s mantel in his study, a gift from her for their first anniversary.
Her deceased husband had been a lover of clocks and timepieces.
She hoped Simon would someday enjoy his father’s love of clocks and his collection.
“What brings you here, Lady Rutherford?”
At the sound of Greyson’s voice, her heart skipped a beat and her insides warmed. Then she remembered she was upset with him. More than upset. Heartbroken and disillusioned. “I just came from the modiste and decided to window-shop and get some fresh air and sunshine. You?”
He stood a little too close for propriety’s sake, but she didn’t move. “I was riding in my carriage, minding my own business, when, out of the corner of my eye, I spied the most beautiful, enchanting lady I’ve ever seen, and I knew I had to make her acquaintance.”
“Who was she?”
His deep chuckle made her skin tingle. Damn her traitorous body. She needed to keep reminding herself that she was upset with him. “As if you don’t know. Would you like to accompany me to Gunter’s for lemon ices?”
Lemon ices sounded heavenly. “Forgive me, but I must return home now to spend time with my son.”
His posture straightened, and he frowned. She saw it in his reflection in the large glass window. “Perhaps another time, then.”
“Yes. Perhaps another time.” She did need to talk to him about his lie, but here on the street or at Gunter’s with an audience wasn’t the right time.
Thankfully, her carriage was right there.
She pivoted and climbed in with her footman’s help.
Against her better judgment, she glanced out the window at Greyson standing in front of the clock shop, his eyes on her.
She shivered and tried not to feel guilty about hurting his feelings.
It was right there in his expression. It hurt her as much as it did him for her to turn down his offer to go to Gunter’s.
Her entire being, against her wishes, wanted to be with him at all times.