* * *
The Radcliffe manor was beginning to feel like a prison. Each day Letitia alternated between agonizing over who had found her letter, and wondering how long it would be before Lord Radcliffe announced his engagement to Lady Worthington. She couldn’t bear it.
I have to leave.
And this time, she meant it. What did it matter if Harriet told her father the truth of who his kitchen hand really was? Whatever fleeting, fragile thing had existed between she and the Marquess was long gone. Soon, she would be gone from this place and he would never see her again.
Letitia felt tears spring up behind her eyes as she packed her things. In spite of everything, the thought of leaving made her ache. As hard as she had tried to fight it, she knew she loved Lord Radcliffe.
She sank to the floor as a great flood of tears welled up inside her. She hugged her knees, violent sobs tearing through her body.
The door creaked open suddenly and Harriet rushed to her side. She dropped to the floor and threw her arms around her, squeezing tightly. Letitia let herself be held.
“I’m sorry,” Harriet gushed. “I’m so sorry.” Her voice began to waver. “I’ll never tell anyone who you are, I promise.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to make you so sad. I just couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving. I didn’t know what else to do.” She clung to Letitia tightly. “Please don’t cry. Please!”
Letitia wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. She tried to swallow down her tears.
Harriet gripped her hands. “Your secret is safe, Miss Cooper, I swear it. I’d never tell anyone.” She hesitated. “Well, I did try and tell Papa when you first ran away… but he didn’t believe me.”
Letitia blinked away the last of her tears. She sniffed. “You told your father?”
Harriet nodded dolefully. “He just said I’d been reading too many fairy stories.”
In spite of herself, Letitia smiled. She supposed her tale did have the makings of a fairy story, if a rather depressing one.
“Why did you run away?” Harriet asked, not releasing her grip on Letitia. “Were there evil men keeping you prisoner?”
Letitia managed a laugh. “Nothing quite so dramatic.” She hesitated. Surely it wasn’t wise to give Harriet yet another piece of her secrets. But as she spoke, Letitia realized how desperate she was to tell someone all that had happened. How desperate she was to share. Even if it was with a child.
And so she said, “I was to be married to a gentleman I have never met. A gentleman I very much did not want to marry.”
Harriet looked up at her with big, tear-filled eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That doesn’t sound very nice.”
Letitia drew in her breath. “No,” she said. “I didn’t think so either.” After a moment, she disentangled herself from Harriet’s arms and stood shakily. “I’m so sorry, Harriet. I need to leave.”
“Why?’ Harriet coughed, climbing to her feet. “I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
Letitia pushed Harriet’s hair from her tear-stained cheeks. In just a few short weeks, she had grown to love Lord Radcliffe’s daughter. She was glad they would not be parting on such dreadful terms. “I know you’ll not tell anyone,” she said gently. “It’s not about you. I promise.”
“Then why?”
Letitia swallowed hard. “It’s complicated. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” She looked down to meet Harriet’s eyes. “But I will miss you. So very much.”
“I’ll miss you too.” Harriet’s voice was tiny. “Where will you go?” she asked. “Will you go back to being a lady?”
Letitia managed a small smile. “It’s a little too late for that.”
Harriet pushed aside a stray tear. “You ought to go and see the sea. Perhaps you might meet a pirate king who will take you to visit faraway lands. And then you might live happily ever after.”
Letitia laughed gently. “Yes,” she said. “Perhaps I might.” She kissed the side of Harriet’s head. “I need to pack my things. I’ll come and see you on my way out.”
Harriet nodded sadly. “Will you write to me?” she ventured, her voice wavering slightly.
And though her last attempt at letter-writing had become something of a debacle, Letitia smiled through her tears and said, “Of course I will.”
* * *
Ezra Barrington looked older than Algernon remembered. The Duke was less than five years older than he was, but in the time since they had last seen each other, his hair had grown gray and thin. So too had his features, Algernon noticed. Banfield’s once-tanned face was gaunt and colorless. When he offered Algernon a broad smile, it seemed rather out of place.
Algernon was curious. How long had it been since they had last met? Over a year, for certain, but surely not more than two. Strange that a person could become so depleted in such a short amount of time. Was the Duke unwell? Had something happened in his life to cause him distress? He decided not to pry. No doubt Banfield would tell him if he wished to.
Though a part of him was desperate to take the Duke into the smoking room and ply him with brandy to loosen his tongue, Algernon led him upstairs to the study. This was, after all, a business meeting first and foremost.
He gestured to the chair beside his desk. Banfield sat, placing his leather valise on the floor beside him. He watched the Duke’s eyes move around the room, falling on the enormous floor-to-ceiling bookshelf.
Banfield got up from his chair and began to examine the leather-bound volumes; an eclectic collection of business tomes and the adventure tales Algernon had read as a boy.
Perhaps there are some books here Miss Cooper and Harriet would enjoy reading together.
He shook the thought away. How did Molly Cooper manage that? Creeping into his thoughts when he ought to be thinking of anything else?
“A fine collection,” Banfield said. He slid a book from the shelf and flicked through the pages.
“My daughter has become quite a voracious reader,” said Algernon. “I hope I’ve enough there to keep her occupied.”
The Duke slid the book back onto the shelf. “She is well then? Harriet?”
“She is, yes. She certainly keeps me sharp.”
The Duke chuckled. He had no children of his own, Algernon knew. Had never married. Algernon had always been curious as to why. He had raised the subject once many years ago.
“A wife and children?” the Duke had repeated. “What need do I have for a wife and children? I’m quite happy on my own.”
Algernon had always suspected it had more to do with the Duke’s withdrawn demeanor. He was a gentleman who largely kept to himself. Perhaps he found seeking a wife to be a daunting prospect.
Finally, the Duke returned to the chair beside Algernon’s desk. “How is business?” he asked. “How is life?”
Algernon chuckled, more to himself than to the Duke. Neither of the questions were particularly straight-forward, though one was decidedly simpler than the other.
“Business is doing well,” he said. “I’ve a new supplier in Virginia. They’ve a top-quality product.” He snorted. “Despite what some of my customers think.”
Banfield raised his eyebrows. “Trouble?”
Algernon shook his head. “Nothing I can’t handle. Just Lord Mullins being argumentative. Refusing to pay what’s owed.” He sat back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “I’ve a good mind to go and see him in person. Tell him what I think of all this.”
Banfield shook his head. “Mullins is trouble. I’ve known it for years.”
Algernon raised his eyebrows. “Really? I’ve had no issues with the gentleman up until now.”
Banfield snorted. “He must like you.” He lowered his eyes, his voice taking on a cold edge. “He’s always been difficult to do business with. And he’s become even worse since his daughter ran away.”
Algernon leaned forward in his chair. “His daughter ran away?”
“Can’t say I blame her. Can you?”
/> Interesting. So Lord Mullins is going through something of a crisis. I was right.
“Why did she run away?” he asked Banfield curiously.
For a moment, the Duke didn’t reply. “Wanted to escape her father, I would assume,” he said finally. He reached into his valise and pulled out a newspaper. Tossed it on Algernon’s desk. “Here. See for yourself.”
Algernon glanced down at the newspaper. The headline screamed up at him: Daughter of Colin Caddy, Baron of Mullins is missing.
But it was the portrait beneath that made his jaw drop open. The portrait beneath that made his heart speed.
Staring back at him was the angelic face of Molly Cooper.
Chapter 24
Algernon stared at the picture for a long time. It wasn’t possible. Surely, this was just a striking likeness of the girl who had stolen his heart.
He scanned through the article. Letitia Caddy, eighteen years old, he learned, had disappeared from the Mullins manor a little over two weeks ago.
Exactly the same time Molly Cooper arrived at my front gate.
There had been possible sightings of Miss Caddy at Covent Garden market, he read. She had been dressed in servants’ clothing.
Algernon breathed hard. The words began to swim before his eyes.
Molly Cooper was not a kitchen hand at all. She was a Baron’s daughter.
She was Lord Mullins’s daughter.
“You all right there, Radcliffe?” Banfield asked.
Algernon forced a smile. “Yes, of course.” He glanced back down at the picture. There she was, staring back up at him with ringleted hair and jewels at her throat. The sight of it was making his heart speed. “Why do you suppose she ran away?” he asked, trying to keep his voice light. “Do you think her father may have done something to her?”
Banfield rubbed his chin. “I couldn’t imagine.” His voice was stiff and controlled. Completely without emotion, Algernon realized.
“You know something about this,” he said, his voice coming out sharper than he had intended.
Banfield forced out a laugh. “Why would I know anything about it? Thought it an interesting story, that’s all. And it goes some way to explaining why Lord Mullins has been so damn disagreeable of late.”
Algernon nodded. That it most certainly did.
“What will you do?” asked the Duke. “Will you try and see this deal with Mullins through?”
Algernon stood and began to pace.
Why did Miss Cooper— Miss Caddy— run away? What could have led her to leave a life of luxury and become a kitchen hand?
Had her father truly mistreated her? Algernon knew there was every chance of it. Wild anger at the Baron began to build inside him. “I’ll see this deal with Mullins done, yes,” he said, his voice beginning to rise. “I’ll see he pays me every penny he owes. And then I’ll never do business with the bastard again!”
* * *
Letitia froze outside the office door.
She had come down to the Marquess’s study to make her goodbyes. This time she had been determined to tell him of her feelings in person. She had wanted him to understand the true reason for her leaving. And yet she had found him insulting her father again? Anger flared inside her.
Suddenly, she wanted to him to know. Wanted him to know it all. She wanted him to know it was her father he was speaking so poorly of. Wanted him to know she would not stand for it. And she wanted him to know she was a lady. Wanted him to see he could have had a life with her if things had been different.
She threw open the door, without bothering to knock.
Lord Radcliffe was pacing back and forth behind his desk. He froze at the sight of her, his lips parted in shock.
“How dare you speak of my father that way!” Letitia cried. “You know nothing at all of him! He’s a good and decent gentleman!”
Lord Radcliffe kept staring. Twice, he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Letitia stood glaring at him, her eyes flashing wildly. She looked rather a sight, she assumed, charging in here with tear-stained eyes and food-stained clothes, announcing her nobility at the top of her voice.
And then she glanced down. Saw her own face staring back at her from the pages of the newspaper laid across Lord Radcliffe’s desk.
Daughter of Colin Caddy, Baron of Mullins is missing the headline read.
Letitia felt suddenly hot, then cold. Her thoughts were tangled. How long had Lord Radcliffe known?
She stared down at her own portrait. As she did so, guilt welled inside her. Her father had been worried enough to go to the press. She knew admitting her escape to the world would do terrible things to the Baron’s reputation. And yet he had put his love for her first.
She closed her eyes. How she longed to disappear from this place. For a fleeting moment, all she wanted was to be back in her father’s arms. She shook the thought away. Such a thing wasn’t possible, of course. Go back to her father and she would be sent down the aisle to marry the Duke of Banfield.
After far too long, she dared to look up Lord Radcliffe.
He met her eyes, saying nothing. She couldn’t read him. Was he angry at her lies? Or just surprised?
Lord Radcliffe’s eyes shifted and for the first time, Letitia noticed they were not alone in the room. Another gentleman stood a few yards back from the Marquess’s desk, eying her and Lord Radcliffe curiously. He looked much older than the Marquess, with sparse gray hair and a pale, angular face. Something in his eyes made Letitia wary.
“Who is this?” she demanded.
The gentleman stepped towards her, making her stumble backwards involuntarily. “My name is Ezra Barrington, Miss Caddy. The Duke of Banfield.”
* * *
Letitia felt the world begin to swim around her.
The Duke of Banfield? Here in Lord Radcliffe’s office?
She had known the Duke and the Marquess did business together, yes. But she had not expected this. Were the two gentlemen friends? How could someone as kind and decent as Lord Radcliffe choose to spend his time with a person who did what the Duke had done?
Did Lord Radcliffe know, she wondered sickly? Had they sipped brandy together, while Lord Banfield regaled his friend with his devious plans of marriage? The thought made her stomach turn.
She lowered her eyes to the floor, unable to look at either of them. She could feel her breath coming hard and fast. Could feel dizziness beginning to swing towards her again.
Lord Banfield had found her. And he knew she was the lady who had scrambled out of a window to avoid being his wife.
She felt Lord Radcliffe’s hand around the top of her arm. “Miss Cooper? Are you all right?”
Miss Cooper?
Why was he still using this farce of a name?
“Let go of me,” she said, tugging free of his grip. There was such coldness in her voice that Lord Radcliffe’s hand fell immediately.
Letitia turned and raced out of the office. She had to get away. Immediately.
Had to get away from this place where her shameful truths had spilled into the open. And she had to get away from this gentleman who had manipulated her father into giving her to him as his wife.
How can Lord Radcliffe spend time with such a person?
Anger at the Marquess bubbled beneath her skin. Did he know of the deal the Duke had made with her father? Either way, it felt like a betrayal.
Letitia ran for the door, her bag knocking against her side. This time, nothing in the world would stop her from leaving the manor. Not Harriet, not her feelings for Lord Radcliffe, not the panic she could feel beginning to take root inside her. Nothing could be worse than staying here.
She tore down the front path and out the gates, ignoring the gardener calling to her as she passed.
“Miss Cooper? You all right there?”
No, I’m not all right. I’m quite certain things will never be all right again…
She raced down the street, without looking back.
And then there was
another voice behind her.
“Miss Cooper! Wait! Please!”
Lord Radcliffe.
Letitia ran faster. She couldn’t face him. Couldn’t bear to look back. The sight of him was far too painful.
She ran and ran, her lungs blazing. An elderly lady and gentleman with two manicured poodles in tow stopped to look at her as she tore past. She realized she was running towards the market, her legs carrying her there without her mind having any thought of it.
Devilish Games of a Virtuous Lady: A Steamy Regency Romance Page 21
