Chapter Eleven
“Are you quite sure this is proper, Letitia?” Harriet looked up at FitzArden Hall as they approached.
“Of course. Even more so, now that you’re with me.” Letitia shifted her bonnet to shelter herself as much as possible from the large drops of rain falling on them from the thinning canopy of trees. Autumn was setting in.
“But…”
“Harry, please stop worrying. If James isn’t there, I shall persuade one of his lovely footmen to give us a cup of tea, and then we shall return.”
“It’s one thing to encounter the gentleman on a walk, you know. Quite another to visit him at his home without a chaperone.”
Letitia sighed. “Harry. I am not a young debutante, and the Ridlington reputation is far more damaging than a brief visit to a neighbour in the country. “
“Hmph.” Harry strode onward, but made her feelings known quite accurately with her snort of derision.
Letitia walked up the new marble steps to the front door and rapped hard. “As soon as the door knockers are installed, this will be a lot easier.” She rubbed her knuckles.
James himself opened the door, then held up his hand. “I know. Door knockers are on the list for this week.” He grinned. “Do come in. Try not to drip near the wainscoting. It’s just been varnished.”
“Such a delightfully formal welcome, James,” laughed Letitia as she and Harry divested themselves of their damp outer garments. “You know how to make guests feel right at home.”
“Once it’s done I’ll be better at this sort of thing. Trust me.” He made sure that their cloaks and bonnets were handed to a maid, then ushered them into a comfortably sized parlour where a warm fire burned.
“How lovely.” Letitia approved. “The fireplace is perfect and the furnishings everything you could hope for.”
“I’m glad it meets with your approval. Since you suggested most of it, anyway.” He smiled as he seated the ladies. “How do you go on, Miss Harry? Is Letitia treating you well?”
“Indeed yes, sir. Thank you.” She looked around. “This is truly a lovely room, but I’m not sure if I…”
The door opened and Paul peered inside. “Can I join you or is this a private party?”
James beckoned him. “The more the merrier. Perhaps tea is in order?”
Paul looked unimpressed as he walked to the fire and held his hands to the flames. “I’m thinking that on a day like this, after the walk these ladies must have endured just to visit you, James, you might offer something a little more—warming?” He strolled away to a side table where a decanter of deep gold liquid sparkled in the firelight next to an assortment of glasses. “May I interest you ladies in a drop of brandy? Just to chase away the chill, of course…”
Letitia laughed and clapped her hands together. “Yes. I am most interested. And we shall be quite unorthodox in our views; Harry will have a glass as well, and we shall discuss…oh, all manner of things without restraint.” She leaned back negligently in the couch and eyed the men with interest.
“An unorthodox afternoon it shall be then,” agreed James. “Um, should I have those kinds of views on anything? I’ve never really thought about it.”
Paul distributed snifters of brandy and took a seat. “I’m sure there are a dozen topics that might suit,” he offered. “Providing they’ve nothing to do with building, finishing, painting or furnishing things, I’m all for them.”
Daringly, Harriet chuckled. “Has it been so bad then, sir?”
“You have no idea, Miss Harry,” smiled Paul. “I swear I feel a megrim coming on as soon as James says things likeI’ve had an ideaorWhat do you think of this?”
His words produced a general laugh.
“Paul, you’ve never had a megrim in your life, have you?” James pointed a finger at him. “You’re being dramatic. Overly dramatic, since I don’t recall using either of those expressions for…well…quite some time…”
“Yesterday?” quizzed Paul.
Thus the conversation took a light-hearted tone, with the men enjoying a back-and-forth of good-natured insults and the ladies chiming in when appropriate. Relaxing under the influence of the warm fire, the convivial company and an excellent brandy, Letitia was delighted to note that Harry was smiling and adding her own quick rejoinders without hesitation.
At this moment, she could see the lady that Harriet must have been; her education and breeding showed clearly. This was a safe environment, and Letitia felt that perhaps it did Harry good to be herself, even if only for a little while.
Sipping her second brandy—goodness where had that come from? —Letitia’s mind wandered to James. He glanced at her now and again, with a smile or a shared jest. There was something in his gaze today, thought, something a little more intense perhaps. Then again, she wondered if she was just imagining it.
Suddenly all the hints she’d been receiving crawled into her mind and settled there, eroding the barrier she’d erected to prevent this sort of thing. What if? What if she asked James to help her out with her writing problems? Would he be willing?
