Harriet shook her head. “Couldn’t you just make it up? You are writing fiction, after all, aren’t you?”
Letitia frowned. “Yes, but I can’t make up something I don’t know anything about, can I?”
“You did it with most of the sexual congress scenes.”
“No, I didn’t,” remonstrated Letitia. “Those were the result of many hours of research with a number of relevant books, the most important beingThe School of Venus.” She tugged Harriet onward, “It was most detailed, I can assure you.”
“I’m sure it was, but…but Letitia…you can’t…” Harriet dug her heels into the gravel, bringing Letitia once more to a halt.
“Well I won’t if you continually make us stop short like mechanical toys.” Letitia turned to look at Harriet, meeting her gaze head on. “I have made a commitment, Harry. This book is going to be published and it will be the best I can possibly make it. If I have to rent a man to assist me in fleshing out the details of certain scenes, then I will.” She frowned. “I hope he’s not too expensive though. I’m not what you might call flush with funds at the moment.”
Harriet closed her eyes. “Is there any insanity in the Ridlington line?”
“No, just some very unpleasant personalities. Some may have thought them ripe for Bedlam, but none ended up there, as far as I know.”
Just managing to resist the urge to either scream or grab her friend by the neck and shake her until some common sense rose to the surface of her brain, Harriet gritted her teeth. “You. Cannot. Hire. A. Man.” The words came out like shots from duelling pistols.
“Don’t be silly. Of course I can. Men can certainly hire women. This is exactly the same, just the other way around.”
Harriet’s choked scream made Letitia laugh. “Oh for Heaven’s sake, Harry. We’ll have no problem finding the right person. Trust me. There are three men awaiting us at the inn right this moment.”
To her everlasting astonishment, Harriet did not faint upon receiving this news.
But it was a damned close thing.
*~~*~~*
“Where are they, Mrs. Fisher?”
Harriet’s heart sank as the woman behind the tall counter waved to one side. “In the small parlour, Miss Ridlington. Not sure why you want them in there, but I did as you asked.” She shot Letitia a look which combined just the right amount of curiosity and respectful disapproval.
“You can’t be too careful when you’re thinking of hiring a new stable hand, you know.”
“But there’s young Arthur from the Sterling Farm…he’s a good lad with a lot of promise…”
“I’m sure he is, and I’ll let my brother know.” Letitia smiled. “But this is my chore, so I must get to it. In the snug, you say?”
“Yes. Three of them.”
“Very well, thank you.”
Harriet remained silent, since there wasn’t much she could say that didn’t involve shrieking loudly, clapping her hands to her face and dashing from the inn.
“Damn.” Letitia swore softly as she led Harriet to the small room off the snug. “There should have been four. Oh well. Three will do, to start with.”
“Letitia…please…” Harriet attempted one last remonstrance. “This is not acceptable in the least. And if word got out—think of the scandal for you, and your family. Haven’t they had enough?”
That made Letitia pause. “Hmm. You raise excellent points, dear Harry. You are indeed the voice of reason.” She shrugged. “However, these men have come for an interview, and an interview they shall have. Now,” she turned to Harriet. “I would like you to go and send them in, one by one. I shall let you know when I’m ready for the next one.”
“Oh dear God.” Harriet fought for breath. “This is going to be trouble, for certain.”
“Nonsense. This plan is flawless.” Letitia sailed into snug and closed the door.
“Hah.” Harriet removed her damp gloves, wiped her palms on her skirt, and walked into the little parlour.
Where she met the intense scrutiny of three pairs of curious eyes. They all rose at her entrance, which gave them some additional credibility, but still. She felt awkward, embarrassed and more than a little uncomfortable.
“Good day to you, sirs. Thank you for answering Miss…” Oh God. What name had her irrepressible mistress used? She compromised. “My mistress’s inquiry. She would like to see each of you, one at a time.”
