Algernon had to admit keeping Harriet entertained had been low on his list of priorities. Keeping her safe, yes. Seeing her well-educated, certainly. But keeping her entertained? Providing her with a life engaging enough that she did not feel the need to slip through the gates and explore the city? On that front, he had clearly failed. He had never stopped to consider that Harriet might be bored. Or lonely.
“Perhaps I might ask Miss Scott to take you to the pleasure gardens?” he suggested.
For a few moments, Harriet said nothing. Her face did not light the way Algernon had been hoping it might.
“All right, Papa,” she said finally. “I’m sure that would be nice.” But the flatness of her voice betrayed her.
* * *
That afternoon, Letitia found herself in the kitchen of the Radcliffe manor, under the gaze of the steely-eyed cook. Letitia disliked meeting new people at the best of times. And standing in a kitchen, having lied about her cooking skills, certainly did not qualify as the best of times.
I didn’t lie about my skills, she reminded herself. I only said I was a kitchen hand. I didn’t say I was a good one.
The cook, Margaret, was a severe looking woman with wide hips and hard eyes. Her gray hair was pulled back so tightly it lifted her eyebrows, making her look in a constant state of surprise. The sight of her brought a knot to Letitia’s stomach. This woman, she felt certain, would not suffer fools. And when it came to finding her way about a kitchen, Letitia Caddy was certainly a fool.
“You have much experience then?” Margaret asked flatly, heaving a sack of flour from the cupboard.
“A little,” said Letitia.
Now I definitely am lying.
Margaret eyed her. “Who did you work for?”
Letitia hesitated. “The Earl…” she blathered, “of Worthington.”
Margaret clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Never heard of the gentleman.”
“I’m not surprised,” Letitia said earnestly. “Not many people have. He rather keeps to himself. He lives alone in an old manor in Highgate. Has an entire house full of cats.”
She forced herself to stop talking.
I’ve been spending far too much time in worlds of make-believe…
Margaret gave a cold snort of laughter in response. “Mock turtle soup,” she said brusquely. “For the Marquess’s supper.” She reached into the cupboard and produced a handful of carrots. “These need peeling and chopping.”
Letitia drew in her breath. “Peeling and chopping,” she said. “Yes, I can do that. Certainly. I did such a thing often for the Earl…”
She bit her tongue. So it seemed her nerves at meeting new people rendered her completely unable to stop blathering. What an unexpected discovery. When was the last time she had met someone new, she wondered distantly? Her parents and the staff at the Mullins manor had been her world for as long as she could remember.
She picked up the knife.
All right. I can do this.
Slowly, she slid the blade across the skin of the carrot, smiling to herself as the peel unfurled beneath the knife.
She could feel Margaret’s eyes burning into her back. Letitia tried to push the old woman from her mind and focus on the task at hand. With the first carrot peeled, she smiled to herself and set it on the chopping board.
There was something oddly pleasant about making the soup that Algernon Fletcher was to eat. The thought caught her by surprise and she felt a faint warmth in her cheeks. She lowered her eyes, praying Margaret was unable to see it.
“In your own time,” the cook snorted, making Letitia start.
“Pardon?”
Margaret snorted. “Can’t be taking a week to peel one carrot, Miss Cooper. I’ll be dead in the ground before this soup is even on the range.”
* * *
That night, Letitia stumbled up the stairs to her attic room, more exhausted than she had ever been. Her legs were aching, her hands red and raw. But, though Margaret’s admonishments were still ringing in her ears, Letitia couldn’t help feeling a tiny flicker of satisfaction. She had survived. She had peeled and chopped carrots, washed dishes, and even mixed a pudding.
She had survived her first day as Molly Cooper, kitchen hand.
And it had been far from dreadful.
She kicked off her boots and unbuttoned her dress. There was something liberating about undressing herself in such a way. Something liberating about not having Jenny hovering at her shoulder, unlacing her corset, and asking about her day. Something liberating about not having her parents at the other end of the manor, making plans for their daughter’s future.
There was something utterly freeing about not being Letitia Caddy.
She glanced at her book sitting closed on the nightstand. She considered opening it. The story was just gaining momentum and, though she had read it several times, she longed to read on. But her eyes were heavy and her legs were aching with exhaustion. She crawled beneath the covers and was asleep in minutes.
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Thank you very much!
Also by Scarlett Osborne
Thank you for reading The Viscount Who Seduced Her!
I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, may I ask you to please write a review HERE? It would mean the world to me. Reviews are very important and allow me to keep writing the books that you love to read! ♥
Some other stories of mine:
Devilish Games of a Virtuous Lady
Bewitching the Forbidden Duke
Tamed by the Marquess
Rescued by a Wicked Baron
A Fiery Escort for the Roguish Marquess
Seduced by the Brooding Duke
***
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Scarlett Osborne
About the Author
Born in the Sunshine State of Florida, but of both British and Nordic descent, Scarlett Osborne grew up reading historical romances from the land of her ancestors. Fascinated with the British society of the 1800s and armed with a wild imagination, she obtained a degree in Creative Writing and immediately started her career as a Regency romance author.
A daydreamer extraordinaire, Scarlett likes to jump in the shoes of her heroines, immersing herself in her own stories, living the adventures that she wished she had experienced as a child. An avid reader and fan of the outdoors, Scarlett spends her free time either reading or going on long horseback rides along with her two sons.
Get lost in a land of enchantment, where adventure and love await around every corner...Scarlett hopes that through her heroes, you too will get to live a whirlwind romance in the Regency era, when fairytales were real and all dreams possible!
The Viscount Who Seduced Her (Steamy Historical Regency) Page 31