“Dunno,” answered Watson. “I ‘ears that they’re still tryin’ to get their money troubles t’ go away. Old man ran ‘em into the ground, like.”
Hodgkins shook his head. “How many Ridlingtons are there? I think I saw a woman recently with that name…”
“Oh aye. There’s a bunch of ‘em.” Watson grinned. “Bastard ‘e was, but old Jack managed to sire ‘imself a brood. Three sons an’ three daughters. Six of ‘em.”
“Good God.” Hodgkins blinked. “So I may have seen a daughter then?”
“Most likely, aye. Miss Letitia, I’ll bet. Miss Kitty an’ Miss Hecate is up in town. I pick ‘em up now an’ again and drive ‘em back to the Chase.”
“Miss Letitia had a maid with her, so she’s the oldest?”
“Dunno nothin’ about no maid. But Miss Letitia is the oldest girl, aye.”
“Nice to have such a good family at the head of the village,” Hodgkins observed, leaning back in his seat.
“Aye.” Watson finished his tankard. “Ye know about ‘orses, do ye?”
“I do, a bit, yes.”
“Ever drive four-in-hand?”
“Yes.”
“Well then, seein’ as yer kind enough t’ buy a round, I might ‘ave a job fer ye. Just a few days, like, but if yer interested…”
“I am indeed, sir.” Hodgkins nodded.
“Right, then. Come by the stables tomorrer around six in the mornin’. Sharp now, ye hear?”
“I hear, Mr. Watson.”
“One ‘o the lads is down wi’ a busted leg. ‘Is cousin’s comin’ to ‘elp out, but ‘e ain’t goin’ t’ be ‘ere ’til next week.”
“I’ll be there. Thank you. Very kind.” Hodgkins held out his hand and Watson shook it, sealing the arrangement.
Shortly after, Watson took his leave, further reminding the other man of their morning appointment.
Hodgkins wasn’t likely to forget it. He might have to do some odd jobs, but it would put him in a place where the Ridlington family were obviously well liked and openly discussed.
He needed to keep track of one of them, Letitia Ridlington, and by default her maid.
This job allowed him to do just that. And a few days of hard work was a small price to pay for the handsome reward waiting at the end of it.
*~~*~~*
Letitia emerged from the nursery the following morning filled with good humour.
Rosaline and Hugh the Tadpole, as the future Baron was currently named, were enjoying each other’s company and Letitia had loved being part of it. Although not particularly eager for offspring of her own—she considered herself too old at this point—she did delight in holding the gurgling bundle and watching the smiles chase themselves across his chubby cheeks.
“He has his father’s eyebrows, doesn’t he?” commented Rosaline proudly as she watched Letitia tickle the baby’s toes.
“Poor lamb, don’t listen to your Mama.” Letitia grinned and dropped a kiss on the downy head. “We’ll shave them when you get older.”
Rosaline’s maid tapped on the door to let her mistress know that breakfast was being served.
“I’ll go down then,” said Letitia, handing over the precious bundle. “I know you like to share this time with Hugh, here.”
“I’ll see you later, I’m sure,” smiled Rosaline, arms ready to accept her son.
