Chapter Nine
James was very aware of the package tucked into his outside pocket as he and Paul walked the mile or so back to FitzArden Hall.
Miss Harry had fulfilled her role with alacrity, it would seem, and now it was up to him to read the book and find out what on earth was going on with Letitia.
“An excellent meal, don’t you agree?” Paul stepped over a log.
“I do indeed.” James followed suit. “Of all the dinners I’ve had in town, the banquets, the mostly highly regarded chefs, the elegant and overloaded dining rooms…I would rather have a meal like this once, than those flamboyant displays of gastronomic improbability every night.”
“Well, a bit on the verbose side, but fundamentally I agree.”
“Yeswould have done,” joked James.
“Just matching your floridly descriptive language, my friend.” He sought firmer footing. “And I’m going to suggest perhaps sending a few men down this way to improve the path. Since it would seem you’ll be using it frequently, you might think about removing the more obvious pitfalls.” He dodged a low hanging branch by inches. “Especially for these evening trips.”
“Good point.” A squishing sound followed. “Damn. I thought I’d managed to avoid that puddle.”
Paul chuckled at his friend’s mishap. “Your boots will serve to remind you of my suggestion.”
“Isn’t that the way of things? I just break them in to the point of utter comfort…only to drown them in a mud puddle.”
They walked on for a little while, managing to avoid further mishaps. Then Paul spoke. “I am known for an improper degree of curiosity, so forgive the prying nature of this question. Letitia’s maid, Miss Harry. What do you know of her?”
James thought for a few moments. Letitia had honoured him with the tale of how they’d met, but he doubted she’d be happy to learn he’d told Paul that same story.
“I don’t know much about her,” he hedged. “From what I understand, Letitia had just met her when you arrived. I gather the poor girl had just lost a position and had ended up in the village inn, only to be discovered by Letitia.”
“And immediately adopted, it would seem,” said Paul.
“Yes, that’s Letitia. An excellent heart and a gift for making instant decisions.”
“Which could land her in a lot of trouble,” cautioned Paul.
“Don’t I know it,” groaned James.
“Oh ho. I deduce from the sound of it that perhaps some stronger emotions are at work here.”
James sighed. “Really?”
“Good lord, lad. If you wish to claim Miss Letitia, you’re taking your own sweet time to go about the thing, you know. Haven’t you heard the phraseFaint Heart ne’er won Fair Lady?”
“It’s a good thing it’s dark, Paul, and thus you are unable to see my face. Because the look I’m giving you this moment would sear your flesh and char your bones to ashes.”
“Hit a sore spot, then, did I?” Paul did not sound repentant.
“Look,” tried James. “Letitia is a very dear friend…”
“Who you’d like to wed and bed. In whatever order that may be.”
“I…really, you should not speak of her like that…”
“Oh for God’s sake, James. Listen to yourself. You lust after Letitia. You dream of her. You pine and gaze upon her loveliness.” He took a breath. “You want to fuck her till you’re both blind, man. And I say that with no disrespect for either you or the lady in question.”
James choked, tripped on a stump and fell flat on his face on the path.
“I believe that to be a completely adequate answer, lad. Well done.” Paul dragged his friend to his feet.
“I don’t believe this,” sputtered James.
