The food was plain but delicious, and the wines excellent. She wouldn’t have expected anything else, she realized. James wasn’t a man to flaunt his wealth. It showed in other ways. The chandelier was magnificent but not dominating, the way the ones at the Seton-Mowbray hall had been. And this meal had to be made from the freshest of local meats and vegetables. A pleasant change from the over-seasoned, flamboyantly sauced London fare.
The wine was to everyone’s taste, and James sent the footmen away as the fruit and cheese appeared for the final course. “We’ll take care of ourselves, Carter, thank you.”
“Yes, sir,” bowed the tallest footman, leaving the room quietly.
“You need a formal butler, Sir James,” offered Harriet. “Below stairs is probably a den of confusion without a first in command.”
“She has a point, old lad. Every efficient army needs a general.” Paul drained his wine glass.
“I know,” said James. “But I’ve always been terribly intimidated by butlers. They have this ability to look down their noses at you. The last one I met was all of five feet three inches, but he still managed it. Awful experience.” He shuddered theatrically, making them all laugh.
Paul pushed back his chair. “I hear there is brandy in the library. Um…” he shook his head. “Forgive me. The room that will be the library when it has books in it.”
That brought another laugh and the four of them left the table to cross the hall and enter the Soon-To-Be-A-Library. Paul had exaggerated the situation, since many of the shelves already held books, but some were indeed still bare. The curtains were a rich brown-gold velvet, drawn now against the icy chill of the early winter night. Another fire in this room, but smaller, surrounded by a glowing wood mantel, and topped by a beautiful painting.
Letitia found herself drawn to it, staring at the riotous clouds, the storm tossed waves beneath, and the boats rocking precariously as the ocean played with them.
“It’s by an artist named Turner,” said James, coming up beside her. “I couldn’t resist it.”
“I don’t blame you,” she breathed. “It’s…magnificent. Wild, intense—everything a storm at sea should be.” She glanced at him. “Edmund would adore this.”
“I haven’t shown him yet, but I’m eager to hear his opinion. Turner has some amazing paintings to his credit. I think he’s one of the finest artists painting today.”
A quick burst of laughter from Paul and Harriet turned their attention to the arrangement of chairs before the fire. A small table lay between them, and Paul was busily shuffling cards.
“Come along, you two. It’s time for a game of Speculation. At which, I shall warn you in advance, I excel above all others.”
Letitia couldn’t refuse a challenge like that, and neither could James.
“I’m not very good at this,” said Harriet hesitantly.
“Then you are sitting next to the right man,” Paul responded. “As an avowed expert, I shall guide your bids and ensure that you leave the table with a much fuller knowledge of the intricacies involved than when you sat down.”
“Paul, the only thing you excel at is being a braggart.” James grinned as he took a turn at shuffling the cards. “Why don’t you pour the brandy while Letitia and I quickly run over the basics for Harry…”
Thus the evening progressed with a rousing and lively game of Speculation, which was enjoyed by all. The brandy decanter was almost empty when Harriet glanced at the small ormolu clock on one of the bookshelves and gasped.
“Goodness, it’s gone eleven.” She looked at Paul. “I’m not sure when I should be leaving…”
James finished his brandy. “The servants usually lock up around midnight. But I agree. It is late.” He looked at Letitia, his gaze heated, the message clear.
She sighed and rose to her feet. “I believe James has the right of it. We should bid you goodnight.”
The mood in the room shifted from amusement to something else as James came to her side and offered her his arm. “Paul, I believe Carter will be waiting up to lock the door behind you. Feel free to leave at your leisure, but make sure Harry is home safe, and that you have the key to the kitchen door so that you can get back in.”
“I will. Thank you James, for a lovely evening.” He bowed. “Letitia.”
“My thanks too, Sir James. This has been delightful.” Harriet dropped them both a curtsey. “Good night.”
Letitia allowed herself to be led from the room, realizing that she was just a little unsteady on her feet. “James, I have certainly imbibed a lot of your brandy,” she whispered.
“I matched you, love. But now there will be absolutely no barriers between us. Sometimes it takes a brandy or two to ease the nerves.”
“You wanted me to relax?”
“Oh yes,” he smiled, squeezing her arm where it rested against his chest. “To start with, yes.”
Letitia swallowed. “Well, it worked.I think.”
