Chapter Four
“Yoo-hoo, James?”
Letitia called out as she saw James strolling alone along one of the paths between Ridlington and FitzArden Hall.
“Hallo Letitia,” he answered. “Lovely day.”
“Indeed.” She walked to him, with Harriet following along just behind her.
“I see you’re actually being appropriate,MissLetitia.” He grinned at her. “No longer walking alone, but with a maid. How correct of you. And how surprising…”
“Don’t tease, James. You know I’m always appropriate. After a fashion.” She waved the topic aside. “I want you to meet Miss Harry, my new…er…maid.”
“Miss Harry.” James nodded politely. “Why do I sense some mystery here? Perhaps because you were uncertain how to name your new companion?”
She rolled her eyes. “No mystery at all. But, well the circumstances are perhaps a little out of the ordinary, shall we say?”
Harriet moved a little. “Miss Letitia…” she said cautiously.
“It’s all right, Harry, really. James is about the most trustworthy man I know. He has been a party to more than a few Ridlington secrets. If Edmund trusts him implicitly…”
She almost felt Harriet relax. “Ah, then of course. Forgive my reticence.”
Letitia noticed James looking intently at Harriet. “Have we met, Miss Harry?”
“Oh no, sir. I doubt that extremely.” She moved her head slightly, concealing her face with the shadow of her bonnet.
James shook his head. “I must have been mistaken. But I would love to hear about these circumstances, if you’d care to join me on my stroll?”
“I’d be delighted.” Letitia put her arm through his outstretched one. “We walked this way in hopes of catching you at home, but this is every bit as perfect.”
Thus assembled, James and Letitia walked down the lane, with Harriet bringing up the rear. As they progressed, Letitia filled him in on Harriet’s story, omitting mention of her last name because even though it was dear James, some things were probably best left unsaid. Especially given James’s frequent visits to London. Should there be any hue and cry pertaining to Harriet’s disappearance, Letitia did not want anyone to make a connection and thus reveal her new maid’s true identity.
“’Tis a terrible thing,” said James at the end of Letitia’s recital. “Women are all too often used as bargaining chips; chattel to be traded or sold for the most advantageous arrangements, with no attention paid to them as people.” He glanced back at Harriet. “I am sorry to hear of your experiences, Miss Harry. I trust it has not given you a distaste of the entire male gender.”
She smiled. “Oh no, sir. Not at all. Only the portion of it related to me.”
He laughed and tightened his arm on Letitia’s. “I declare, Miss Letitia. You have found an ideal companion. She has a ready wit as well as a personable attitude. Perhaps she will keep you in line?”
Letitia snorted. “I need no keeper, James.” She smiled at him with an excess of modesty. “But it is pleasant to have a companion who can keep pace with my absurdities as well as unlace my gown.”
Her passing comment made him smile, but she noticed his eyes flash to her bodice and then return to her face. “A most delightful thought.”
He moved the conversation forward, leaving her wondering to what, exactly, he had been referring.
After about a mile of inconsequential chatter—the progress of his building endeavour, and the perfection of the new addition to the Ridlington family—James paused as they reached the end of the lane. “Let’s turn here. I must approve the final design for the ballroom this afternoon. A not insignificant task.”
“How thrilling,” said Letitia. “I’m sure you will produce something spectacular. Imagine your first ball there.”
He chuckled. “It is more the necessity of having a ballroom, than the excitement of using it. Should I wish to sell at any time, such a feature will ensure a good price.”
“Oh.” Letitia’s spirits plummeted at his words. The idea that one could spend so much time and money, not to mention personal effort, in creating such a lovely mansion only to consider how much it would pay in the future—well, it was more than a little depressing.
“But that is a long way away. Let us instead talk about the topic you have studiously avoided during our delightful ramble.”
She blinked, still saddened at the thought of James selling his house. “What?”
“Your book, my dear. Were you not to see your publisher yesterday?”
