Word of a Lady: A Risqué Regency Romance (The Six Pearls of Baron Ridlington Book 3)

by Sahara Kelly

  “Oh, my.”

  “It was lips, but not just lips. It was teeth and tongues and hands and more.” Letitia’s voice broke. “It was wondrous, feeling him touch me, feeling his lips against my bare skin. My whole body ignited. I swear there were flames shooting deep and low inside…” her hand dropped absently to her stomach, pressing against her cloak.

  Stopping her conversation, Letitia sighed, lowered her head and began to walk on.

  Harriet followed, letting the air and the gentle forest sounds help calm the other woman. It seemed as if Mother Nature herself were offering comfort, delicate touches of moisture against their skin and tears of compassion falling on them now and again from the dying leaves of massive chestnut trees.

  “Well,” said Letitia finally, lifting her head. “At least now I can edit my book and perhaps come close to what Lesley suggested.”

  “A positive result,” encouraged Letitia.

  Lights from Ridlington began to twinkle through the murk, and Letitia paused once again. “I must ask one thing, Harry,” she said. “You’ve lived in London. Do you know that woman?”

  “Not personally, no.” Harriet racked her brains for information. “I had heard of her, though. Mostly gossip, but a few mentions in the newspapers now and again. She is notorious for her fleeting interest in many men. She’s a wealthy widow —inherited a massive fortune from her late husband, I believe—and strange as it may seem, she’s of good breeding, both of which facts allow her to run much closer to the line between acceptable behaviour and outright scandal.”

  “Ah.” Letitia absorbed this information. “A titled whore. Probably a lackwit as well.”

  Harriet frowned. “No, I cannot say either with certainty.” She put her hand on Letitia’s arm. “In fact, I distinctly remember my uncle mentioning her during one of our…conversations. He asked my aunt why I couldn’t be more like Lady Augusta, and she answered that I wasn’t smart enough.”

  Letitia’s countenance crumbled. “Oh my dear girl.” She hugged Harriet. “I’m so sorry to bring up a memory so unpleasant.”

  “Oddly enough, I can recall things like that now without pain,” answered Harriet, returning the hug. “Entirely thanks to you.”

  “Well we’re helping each other out, which is exactly how a good friendship should be conducted.” Letitia squared her shoulders. “I am going to take what happened today and add it to my store of useful experiences.”

  “An excellent notion,” concurred Harriet, not believing a word of it.

  “I shall put it to good use. In fact, I think I shall being editing my book this very evening.”

  They walked across the terrace and up to the side entrance to Ridlington, where Letitia turned to look at Harriet. “Will you make my excuses for dinner for me? I don’t believe my work will wait another moment.”

  In other words, thought Harriet to herself, you can’t deal with family at the moment. He must have really upset your ordered world.

  “Of course, Letitia. I’ll make sure they send up a tray. Authors do need sustenance, you know. After all, brilliant minds have to be nourished.”

  She was happy to see that her parting comment had brought the first smile to Letitia’s face since that fateful moment on the steps of FitzArden Hall.

  Damn you, James FitzArden. You just destroyed something very precious. On that thought, Harriet walked out of the growing darkness and back into Ridlington Chase.

  *~~*~~*

  Letitia did indeed set herself to work that very night, and more days and nights after that. She worked hard, not only dealing with Lesley’s editorial suggestions, but tightening the story here and there, improving small things, adding and changing and correcting…

  After a week, she was tired but still very enthusiastic about the way this book was turning into something even she thought was quite special. Life continued around her, of course, and the weather cooperated by being utterly miserable for most of the next two weeks, condemning everyone to spending the majority of their time under their own roofs.

  She spared little thought for FitzArden Hall and its owner—Paul and James had left, but whether they’d taken that woman with them, she didn’t know. She told herself she didn’t care.

  Harriet was at loose ends, and found herself assisting Rosaline now and again. The two women grew to know each other a little better, and Rosaline declared herself delighted with Harriet’s ability to entertain baby Hugh long enough for his Mama to enjoy an excellent restorative nap. She was also well-read, so occasionally the two of them would have quite unlikely conversations about matters ranging from Shakespeare to Sheridan. Politics wasn’t high on either women’s list of interests, but Sheridan’s history, colourful as it had been, provided meat for several afternoons of discussion.

  Letitia was pleased that Harriet was getting along so well with her sister-in-law. It gave her chance to do what she needed to do, and not feel obligated to pay attention to the rest of the Ridlington household.

  As far as James was concerned…well, there was no James to be concerned about anymore.

  Letitia had done her best to shut that door, to wall off those emotions he might have aroused at various times during their acquaintance. He had returned from town, and visited a few times, but she’d managed to avoid him without it seeming too overt.

  Of course, her avoidance was noted, but since she had her editing work as an excuse, and her ink stained fingers as evidence, the comments were few and made only in passing. At least to her.

  They heard not long afterward that he’d left for London again. Autumn was fast giving way to what promised to be a cold winter, and speculation was rife that James might spend the bitter months in the metropolis. Letitia contributed little to that conversation, merely agreeing that for a man with active business interests, it was probably a logical move, given the difficulties of winter travel.

  She refused to even consider that he might seek warmth in the arms of his mistress. She was afraid of the lurking pain such a notion would bring to that odd little area around her heart.

  So the days passed, and it wasn’t until early November that word arrived from London as to James’s whereabouts. And even then, indirectly.

  “’Tis news from Kitty,” said Edmund that morning. He held up a letter. “It only took me an hour to decipher it. Kitty’s penmanship leaves a lot to be desired.”

  “Don’t keep us in suspense, my dear,” said Rosaline. “How are they going on in town?”

  “Do tell,” added Letitia.

  “Well, it would seem that their Aunt Venetia has experienced a stroke of enormous good fortune.” He glanced around the table at the Ridlington ladies. “She has inherited a considerable legacy from a cousin she barely knew.”

  Assorted exclamations followed his words.

  “Kitty must be over the moon,” commented Hecate dryly.

  Edmund raised an eyebrow at her.

  “Well, isn’t she?” Hecate responded to the silent question. “She’s always loved the thought of all the things money can buy. And now she’s in the company of a woman whose good luck has also added the glow of prestige.” She sighed. “You know how Society is. Both of you.” She looked at Edmund and Rosaline. “Money is the arbiter of all things fashionable.”

  “I cannot argue that, much as I would like to do so,” answered Rosaline. “But let’s be happy for Kitty. And Richard as well.”

  Edmund agreed. “Something like this, while as horribly mercenary as Hecate asserts, will go a long way toward wiping out that Ridlington stain for both Richard and Kitty. Which can only be a good thing. I imagine Kitty will now have a much better dowry than I could have provided for her…”

  “I suppose so,” conceded Hecate.

  “And…” continued Edmund. “She says you and Letitia are welcome to visit. Aunt Venetia is planning a large ball to celebrate her new status, and Kitty would love to have you both there.” He glanced down at his sister’s scrawl. “She says something about the upcoming ho
liday season and festivities, but damned if I can make out more than that.” He passed it to his wife. “Here. You try.”

  Rosaline turned the paper this way and that, squinted, frowned and held it up to the light before shaking her head. “It’s no use. She says seasonal something-or-other, so exciting, ball and new dresses. That’s the best I can do.”

  “Typical,” chuckled Hecate. “Well, I won’t be going.”

  Letitia’s mind was working rapidly. “Hecate, can I urge you to change your mind?”

  “I doubt it, but you’re welcome to try.”

  “Annoying girl,” grinned Letitia.

  “I think you both should go,” interjected Rosaline. “It would be a wonderful break for you. Hecate, you’ve isolated yourself here in Ridlington. It’s time you saw a little more of the world. And Letitia, you would benefit from a trip to London, I know, given all your hard work on your book. And seeing Kitty and Richard again would be good for everyone.” She looked at her husband. “I don’t want any of us to forget we are a family.”

  He reached out and picked up her hand. “As if we could with you at the head of it.” He kissed her knuckles.

  “I rather think young Hugh is the head of it at the moment,” she smiled back.

  “I don’t know, Rosaline,” said Letitia, whose lightning-fast brain was already a week ahead. “I am not comfortable leaving you with just Edmund for company. What about darling Hugh?”

  “I probably should be upset at that comment,” said Edmund with a grin, “but I do understand your point.”

  “I have Nurse,” Rosaline assured her. “And perhaps—here’s another suggestion—would you leave Harry here? She’s very good with Hugh and I am coming to enjoy her conversation. We all know that London, for her, might be unhealthy, and I’m sure Kitty’s aunt has maids in abundance for your convenience…”

  Since this was exactly the place where Letitia had hoped to lead Rosaline, she merely smiled and nodded. “A truly excellent notion, Rosaline. I wonder why I did not think of it myself.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Thus it was that within a few days, a large traveling carriage stood outside Ridlington Hall, bearing all the indications of a major trip to the Outer Hebrides. Or the impending journey of two ladies to London. Edmund commented that it would have been impossible to distinguish between the two destinations, given the amount of luggage involved.

  “Silly man,” scolded Letitia. “You know well that three of these trunks are for Kitty. Both Hecate and I have been most modest in our packing.”

  Hecate nodded. “If you think modest means two trunks and an assortment of bags.”

  “All lies,” laughed Letitia. “We shared one of those trunks. We shall contrive nicely, Edmund. The change of horses is arranged?”

  He nodded. “Yes indeed. Thanks to Mr. Hodgkins here. Your driver.”

  Letitia glanced at the box. “We are in your hands, then, Mr. Hodgkins,” she called up.

  He touched his cap. “I’ll take good care ‘o ye, m’Lady.” He looked at the luggage. “Goin’ t’ be a tight squeeze, less’n yer maid sits up ‘here,” he said doubtfully.

  “No maid, Mr. Hodgkins. Just the two of us. I believe we’ll be quite comfortable.” Letitia opened the door and put a couple of blankets inside.

  Hecate looked at Edmund. “Who is he?”

  “He’s working at the inn stables, and according to Watson, he’s very reliable. Turns out he’s been excellent thus far.”

  Hecate eyed the driver with a narrowed gaze. “I see.”

  “Is something wrong?” Edmund touched her shoulder. “Please tell me if you think this is not a good idea…”

  She shook her head. “No, I see no troubles. We shall arrive in town in one piece.” She turned to Edmund and hugged him. “Thank you dear brother.”

  “For what?” Surprised, he still hugged her back.

  “For not questioning me. For understanding my oddities. And for believing in them.”

  “That’s what families do, love. I’m learning, and I hope you are as well, that there are many things families do that we never did. Until now.”

  Letitia walked up. “May I have a hug as well? Since we’re being so provincial as to show emotion in front of the staff,” she smiled at the two of them.

  Edmund immediately responded. “Please take care of yourself, Letitia. Look after Hecate. I shall wait to hear from you about Richard and Kitty.” He released her to help Hecate into the carriage, then turned again to Letitia, making sure his back was turned to the carriage door. Speaking low, he leaned toward her. “I shall rely on you to keep an eye on her, if you would.”

  “Hecate? Of course.” Letitia whispered back, then reached up to drop a kiss on Edmund’s cheek. “You are a wonderful big brother, you know. I’ll do my best to keep everyone safe.”

  “Hurry home. You will be much missed. And I look forward to reading that book of yours, so get it published.” Edmund assisted her up to join her sister. “Now you have blankets, and there’s a basket of food on the seat next to you, Hecate.”

  “Edmund?” said Hecate.

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t fuss.”

  He sighed. “Sorry.” He closed the carriage door and stepped back.

  “Oh look. Rosaline and Hugh are waving…” Hecate laughed up at one of the front windows where she could see her sister-in-law holding a swaddled bundle.

  Two arms emerged from the carriage window as it pulled off down the Ridlington Chase drive, waving at Edmund on the top step and at the other couple above him.

  Then, as the pace picked up, Hecate closed the window and leaned back. “Well then. Now we’re on our way.”

  “Indeed,” sighed Letitia. “And I am torn between eager anticipation and a bad case of nervous dread.”

  Hecate thought about that. “Did you mind leaving Harry?”

  “In a way, I suppose.” Letitia removed her bonnet. It was going to be a long trip and she’d rather not develop a headache this early. “But I completely agree with her staying behind. Her safety is more important than my comfort. Besides, I have you.” She grinned at Hecate.

  “I’m not accompanying you to the privy and holding your gown.”

  “Good God, I wouldn’t expect you to.” Letitia blinked. “And I’ve never asked that of Harry either.” She shuddered dramatically. “That’s just awful, Hecate. Where did you get such a notion?”

  “I read the papers. Of course some of them are quite old…” admitted Hecate. “But one does like to have at least a passing knowledge about events in our country, Letitia. Sometimes I feel quite ignorant.”

  “Hmm. I cannot disagree with your wanting to stay informed, love. But as for having a maid assist me in the privy? No, thank you.” She wrinkled her nose. “I cannot imagine being that helpless. Or so dismissive of the poor woman involved. Ugh.”

  “Perhaps you’d better arm yourself, then. Because dismissive might well describe any number of people we may be on the verge of meeting,” cautioned her sister.

  “I wish it were not so, but I believe you’re right.”

  Letitia leaned back in her seat, adjusting to the movement of the carriage. Would she be seeing James? She couldn’t hide from that thought. And her book was done. Ready for another submission to Mr. Lesley. She was at the point now where she wondered why she had started on it. Why she had ever imagined she could be a writer.

  And why such an outrageous topic had forced itself onto the page through her pen.

  Editing had been difficult to impossible sometimes, when the things she had written now reminded her of stolen moments in the FitzArden Hall parlour. She’d forced away the tears and refastened the locks on that door. It was a visual image that helped maintain her self control. Most of the time. Nobody knew of the nights she awoke in darkness, only to sob as if her heart was breaking.

  Stupid girlish nonsense.

  *~~*~~*

  It had been an uneventful, if long and cold, journey to the door
of Lady Venetia Allington’s home in Mayfair. But their welcome was just the opposite—warmth billowed from the effervescent Lady Venetia herself as the weary ladies alighted at her doorstep. Kitty was close behind, dancing with excitement, hugging Letitia and Hecate enthusiastically as she introduced them to her aunt.

  “Now, now,” laughed Lady Venetia. “Let the dear girls breathe. Yes, Morton, do bring in all the luggage and take it up, if you would.”

  The chaos of their arrival soon lessened, and Letitia found herself in an elegant suite of rooms, adjoining her sister’s. Which fact became evident when Hecate’s face appeared through a connecting door. “Oh look. Isn’t this delightful?”

  Letitia turned from her bag on the bed. “Indeed. Most luxurious.” She glanced back at the maid. “I think just a simple gown, if you would. We’re both tired from traveling, so no evening entertainments for us.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” nodded the maid. “My Lady said as how you’d probably prefer an early night.”

  “I hate to agree because it sounds so…provincial,” grinned Hecate, “But she’s quite right.”

  A tap on the door heralded Kitty. “Do you have everything you need?” She pirouetted into the room. “Isn’t it lovely here?”

  “It is,” agreed Letitia.

  “Do you dance everywhere, Kitty?” politely inquired Hecate.

  “Don’t start…” Kitty landed on her heels and pointed at her youngest sister.

  “Me?” blinked Hecate innocently.

  Letitia sighed. “I hope you’re going to tell us that dinner will be soon, dear. We’re both quite hungry. And we both want to hear about your adventures, of course. If you’ve no engagements this evening, that is…”

  “Of course not,” protested Kitty. “How could I even think of deserting my sisters on their first night in town?” She glanced at the gown Letitia had just slipped into, and then at Hecate’s simple wool ensemble. “Besides, I think we need to dress you both before we venture out.”