Chapter One
Chilly air brushed Letitia’s shoulders and blew loose strands of hair around her face as she walked the familiar lane to Ridlington Vale. She’d made this little trip more times than she could remember, but never in quite such a state of apprehension. Today was the day she would meet the man who might well set her feet upon a new and exciting path.
Her palms were damp as she opened the door to the inn. “Good morning, Mrs. Fisher.”
“And good morning to yourself, Miss Letitia. Bit on the cool side today, isn’t it?” The landlady gave her a warm smile. “I’ve a pot steeping. So you go on in and I’ll bring it through.”
Letitia removed her bonnet and smoothed the unruly hair. “You are so kind. That would be lovely.”
She was about to enter the little parlour that adjoined the snug, when the door to the inn opened once more and a figure hesitated on the threshold. A young woman, bundled in a cloak and clutching a traveling bag as if her life depended on not letting it out of her grasp. She glanced around, her eyes nervously darting everywhere, and her lips tightly folded against each other.
“Hullo.” Letitia walked over to the newcomer. “I don’t believe I know you, and I know most everyone in Ridlington Vale, thus you must be new to the village. Can I be of any help?” She made sure to smile and beckon the woman inside. “It’s getting quite chilly, so do come in and warm yourself.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice quiet, betraying a little tremor.
She was well-spoken, and Letitia recognized quality clothing. There was something going on here, and perhaps she needed either a helping hand or a friend. Since Letitia had an hour or so before her visitor was due to arrive, she decided to offer some assistance and perhaps learn more about what had brought this young lady to a country inn.
“Do you have anyone with you? A maid, perhaps?” Letitia put her arm out and touched the woman’s shoulder lightly. She was surprised at the quick jump her move elicited.
“No, I’m afraid it’s just me.”
“Well then. I’m about to have some tea. Will you do me the honour of joining me? I have an appointment later this morning, and would love the company to help pass the time until then.”
“That’s very nice of you. I would love a cup of tea.” She stood a little straighter, as if relaxing under Letitia’s gentle interest.
“Good.” Mrs. Fisher came back into the foyer. “Would you pop another cup onto that tea tray, if you please?” Letitia called over.
“Very good, Miss Letitia.” The landlady nodded, her gaze on the newcomer. “It’ll be ready in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”
“Come on. Let’s make ourselves comfortable.” Leading the way, Letitia ushered the young woman into the little parlour. “There. It’s not very large, but it’s warm. Now let’s get the necessities out of the way.” She watched the woman unwrap her cloak and hang it beside Letitia’s on the hooks. The dress she wore was fine wool, as was the matching spencer jacket, although both were unremarkable in style and colour.
“I’m Letitia Ridlington, and I’m happy to make your acquaintance.” She bobbed a little curtsey.
“I’m…I’m Harriet Selkirk.” The words were almost whispered as she curtseyed as well.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Selkirk.”
“Thank you, Miss Ridlington. You’re very…wait…Ridlington?” Her eyes widened. “Like the village?”
Letitia sighed. “Yes, I’m afraid so. Come and sit down. You look weary and I’m ready for my tea. Why don’t we settle ourselves and have a nice talk?”
Right on cue, Mrs. Fisher tapped and entered, followed by a young maid bearing a tea tray.
“I took the liberty of adding a few jumbles, Miss Letitia. I knows how you love ‘em and they goes so well with a nice cuppa.”
“Oooh how delightful.” Letitia grinned at the older woman. “You spoil me.”
“Nonsense. Now you and yer friend set right in and if you need anything else, just gimme a shout, all right?” She smiled at both women and whisked herself out, closing the door behind her.
“Jumbles,” breathed Miss Selkirk. “I haven’t had those in—I can’t remember how long.” She licked her lips.
“Go head, please help yourself.” Letitia watched varying expressions chase across the other woman’s face. “I can recommend them. Mrs. Fisher has a way in the kitchen.”
“Thank you.” Politely, and with a slight hesitation, she put two of the biscuits and put them on a plate, while Letitia poured.
“Sugar?”
It was a uselessly polite interaction, but although Letitia was itching to ask questions, she knew this ritual would serve to calm her guest. Perhaps when it was finished, those questions might be answered more easily. Whoever Harriet was, she was very skittish. Something was wrong, and Letitia determined to find out what it was.
