“I have none.”
“A lady traveling without gemstones to flaunt?” He stepped closer, and Letitia forced herself not to recoil. “Be warned, if you don’t remove them from wherever you’ve hidden them on your person, I shall remove them myself.”
“And I tell you, I have no jewels. Moreover, if you lay a hand on me, I can promise you it will be a decision sorely made and one you’ll greatly lament.”
He raised his hand to strike her. Letitia, having endured the sting of Marian’s hand a number of times, was not cowed.
“Enough!” the mounted rider called, the first time he’d spoken. With languid grace, he dismounted and approached. The first highwayman stepped away.
“Have I your word you carry no valuables?” The leader spoke almost in a whisper, as he took his stand in front of Letitia. His blue-gray eyes above the kerchief gleamed with something akin to admiration, amusement, and more.
“Yes.” Mesmerized by his stare, she could find no voice to protest when he lifted his fingers and stroked her neck. Something cold and rough rubbed against her skin—the feel of a gemstone—and she realized he must be wearing one of his ostentatious rings backward.
“Ah, but what have we here?” His smooth fingers plucked from her high collar the thin silver chain upon which hung a cross. He held the minute symbol of her faith against one fingertip and rubbed the bottom half with his thumb.
Letitia swallowed. “A jewel such as you covet, this is not, as you can plainly see. It is but a token mi madre gave me. Worth little save for its sentiment.”
He looked up into Letitia’s eyes. A strange mix of fear and excitement made her blood pound in her temples. There was something strangely familiar about those eyes….
At last, he released his hold on the cross.
“You speak rightly. ’Tis of no value to me. Keep your talisman, my lady.” Swiftly he turned and addressed the others. “Come away. We’ve tarried too long.”
He mounted his chestnut mare while his two lackeys did the same with their horses. As he settled on his saddle, his focus again went to Letitia. Removing his hat, he swept it over his breast and out to the side, effecting an elaborate bow. “And so, without further adieu, we bid you good day.”
Spurring his horse, he took off in a cloud of dust, the other highwaymen trailing him into a distant copse of trees.
“Well, I never,” Marian fumed. “Papa, why do you stand and stare? Are you not going in pursuit? Those were some of my most exquisite jewels.”
Lord Ackers moved to his horse. “I shall report the matter once we reach Heppelwith Manor. Until then, there’s little to be done.”
Pouting, Marian ordered Letitia and the other servants to retrieve the remaining contents of the luggage strewn over the ground. Once they completed their task, the driver again secured the trunks in the boot.
The remainder of the journey passed in relative silence. By the time the coach reached its destination, it bore a somber party indeed.
Letitia stared at the multistoried, gabled structure of Heppelwith Manor. Welcoming light poured forth from tall windows along the ground floor and a few smaller arched windows on the floors above. Half-full, the moon had arisen beyond the sprawling country manor, outlining the expansive rolling grounds and silvering a still pond flanked by trees.
Letitia sensed a shadow at a window and lifted her attention there. The broad-shouldered form of a man looked down upon them.
Edward watched the tardy guests alight from the carriage with the aid of the footmen. Four women stepped down, one wearing a splendid gown that appeared ill-suited for travel. Light from the lower windows illumined the face of another lady as she turned her attention upward. His breath mired in his throat, and he stood stock-still.
“Edward?” The voice of the duchess interrupted his thoughts. He turned from the window as her plump form filled the entryway. “There you are. Tell me, are you still determined to go through with this outlandish scheme of yours?”
He nodded once.
She sighed. “Very well. I’ve only just now learned that thieves accosted Lord Ackers and his party during their journey. This makes the second daylight robbery by highwaymen since you and William arrived from India two months past. See about fetching the constable, will you?”
“Of course. No one was hurt?”
“There’s no need to summon a physician, though poor Lady Marian is beside herself with the loss of her jewels.”
“I’ll leave at once.”
“Edward?”
He halted his rapid trek to the door.
“You are aware I don’t approve?”
“Yes, well aware,” he said quietly, not needing her to elaborate. “But as things stand, I see no other recourse.”
Before she could detain him with yet another homily about trusting God, he left her presence.
Upon descending the curved stairway, he caught sight of the new arrivals near the foyer, one woman in particular. The same who’d looked up at him while he’d stood at the window.
She stood near twin oil lamps bracketed to the wall. Their muted glow brought out the shine of her dark curls within the beribboned gray bonnet. Her manner of dress was tasteful, simple. While a servant took their cloaks, she turned impossibly huge, dark eyes Edward’s way.
A jolt of familiarity struck—he assumed that’s what robbed him of breath—before she dropped her gaze to the black-and-white tiles. Hearing the duchess descend the stairs behind him to see to her guests, Edward continued to the servants’ wing.
Yet all during his mission, the girl with the haunting brown eyes never left his thoughts.
Letitia was shown into the bedchamber she would share with Marian. Her cousin’s disparaging gaze darted about the large room with its modicum of furniture. “The canopy is small.” Placing her palm against the high mattress, Marian pushed down twice as though to judge its softness, then pulled at the braided cord holding back the bed curtain. The olive-green drape whooshed alongside the bed. “It will have to do, I suppose.”
“It’s a delightful room,” Letitia said. “I’m well pleased.”
“Yes, you would be.” Marian’s mouth compressed. “Really, Letitia, must you be so gauche? Your behavior downstairs was reprehensible. One would think you’d never viewed a fine estate with the way you gawked at the furnishings, yet you’ve resided at my father’s estate for the better part of three years.”
Letitia held her tongue. Windham Hall, with its slightly worn furnishings, could hardly compare to the splendor of Heppelwith Manor. For Marian to wed the wealthy marquis would benefit the Ackers. If her cousin was correct about their reason for being here, such a manner of choosing a bride—by inviting eligible women from all over the countryside and choosing from among them—seemed odd to Letitia. Yet she’d long ago learned of the eccentricities of the titled and wealthy.
Marian preened in front of a standing oval mirror, pinching cheeks already rosy. “Our dreadful encounter with those robbers delayed us from a prompt arrival, but it worked to my advantage. We’re the talk of the evening.” Her eyes gleamed as she turned from the cheval glass. “Mine will be a name the marquis shall not easily forget. Did you see him? Was he not dashing?”
Letitia recalled the tall, fashionable gentleman, a trifle brusque and loud, with wavy brown hair and long sideburns. He’d been standing surrounded by a bevy of fawning, chattering women.
“I saw him.” She poured water from a widemouthed pitcher into a matching porcelain basin to wash her face and hands.
“He’s so debonair.” Marian clasped her hands beneath her chin and came close to swooning. “The duchess mentioned that except for those functions they’ve planned, we’re free to do as we wish during our stay. I have no doubt the marquis will be keeping close watch over those women presently unattached so as to choose his bride. And I plan to be in his vicinity often. I will be the marchioness.”
Weary of the incessant talk of the marquis, Letitia dried her hands on a linen towel
.
“How do you plan to amuse yourself?” Marian’s words bore a sharp edge.
“I noticed a maze in the gardens. Perhaps I shall also visit the stables.”
Marian softly snorted. “One would think that your childhood fall would leave you wanting nothing more to do with the creatures. Very well. Ride the horses. I care little what you do as long as you stay away from the marquis.” So saying, she flounced away and called for Rose to tend her.
Expelling a lengthy breath, Letitia touched her cross and its comforting ridges. At least Marian didn’t require her presence throughout their stay. The thought made Letitia’s lips curl upward. There might be something to be said for Grandmama’s idea, after all.
Chapter 4
The next morning passed without much to distinguish it from any other and certainly without the excitement of the previous day. A prisoner to her cousin’s never-ending monologue, Letitia spent her early hours in the bedchamber she shared with Marian. A servant brought them scones and thick cream at Marian’s command. Letitia grabbed one from the platter and bit into it with delight.
“Really, Letitia,” Marian scoffed. “I do hope you conduct yourself in a more suitable manner when we’re in the company of the duchess. You eat like one of the hogs.”
As always, Letitia chose not to respond. In the privacy of their room, she didn’t consider her behavior so horrid, especially since she was quite ravenous. A creature of habit, Letitia had been dressed since dawn in a soft plum day gown with wide pagoda sleeves flaring out from the elbows. Marian rose much later and took extreme measures with her appearance—over an hour to have her hair styled by Rose. Yet Letitia was usually the one on the other end of the brush. With nothing to keep her hands occupied, the minutes seemed to drag by like aged souls tottering on the verge of eternal sleep. Marian had expressly forbidden Letitia to make an appearance downstairs without her. She supposed it didn’t matter. Years ago, she’d learned of the habit of the nobility to break the fast late in the morning and assumed customs at this country estate would be no different.
Half past eleven, Marian declared herself presentable, and they made their appearance downstairs. A servant showed them the way to the breakfast room.
Silver chafing dishes lined the sideboard, and guests served themselves. Letitia filled her plate with kippers, sausages, and eggs. Throughout their meal, Marian scanned the entryway, and Letitia assumed she searched for the absent marquis. Except for one doddering old gentleman with a chain fastened to a monocle that had the habit of falling into his plate, all the men were absent. Likely, they’d taken their meal earlier and now gathered in the smoking room or were off on a pheasant shoot.
Across the table from Letitia, next to the posy-papered wall, a servant in dark livery stood surveying the room of frivolous females. Letitia observed him, experiencing a peculiar recognition. When a guest inquired something of him, his benevolent smile made Letitia catch her breath. Before she could collect her thoughts, he turned on his heel and quit the room.
Letitia took note of her surroundings. Each of the eleven breakfast patrons was engaged in conversation, including her cousin.
Silently Letitia rose from the table and advanced in the direction she’d seen the servant go. The room in which she found herself opened to a small room with a fireplace. Spotting the manservant standing with his arm against the overmantel, she relaxed. Unaware of her presence, he lifted his hand, frowning as he looked upon it, then closed it into a fist and stared into the fire. How odd …
The duchess suddenly appeared at the door in another part of the room.
“Edward,” she said with authority. “I must speak with you.”
So her rescuer’s name was Edward, for Letitia was almost certain that this was the man who’d come to her aid on London’s foggy streets. She watched him approach the duchess; then together they disappeared into the next room.
Disappointed that her query would have to wait, she pivoted to return to the breakfast room and almost collided with a man behind her. She jerked back to avoid contact, but her leg gave way. A gasp left her lips, as his strong arm wrapped about her back. She, in turn, grabbed his other arm to prevent her fall.
She blinked in astonishment as she met the marquis’ dancing eyes. He held her close a moment longer than appropriate. A wave of heat rushed to her face. She made as if to move back, and he dropped his arms to his sides. Quickly, she retreated.
“Have a care,” he said. “The flooring is slick.”
“Sí, I will try to remember.” She didn’t look at him again. Surely, her mind must be playing tricks on her. “Gracias, my lord.”
He made no move to go, and she couldn’t leave since he blocked her path.
“Have we met?” he asked.
“I am Letitia Laslos. Viscountess Ackers is my aunt.”
“Of course. You arrived with the unfortunate Lady Marian who lost her treasured emeralds and diamonds to thieves. Pray tell, did you suffer a similar fate at the highwaymen’s hands?”
His words sounded glib, and curiosity compelled Letitia to lift her gaze. Was he truly so unfeeling? “I was happy to escape a similar misfortune. The jewels stolen from my cousin had been her great-grandmother’s. It is a difficult trial for her to bear.”
The marquis offered a little shrug, then tilted his head in a manner both indifferent and assessing. “You’ve given your report to the constable?”
“Yes. However, I’m distressed to say that the sun blinded me, and I couldn’t see the men clearly.”
“Ah well.” His smile was tight. “Fear not, dear lady. I’m certain these blackguards will be caught in due course. I must take my leave, but I hope we shall have opportunity for further discussion in the future. If you require anything, you’ve only to ask. It is my humble wish that your stay here at Heppelwith be an enjoyable one.” Before she knew what he was about, he reached for her hand and bowed over it, holding it a fraction from his lips.
Letitia watched him stride away, his head high. He seemed anything but humble. Handsome, surely. Charming, debonair. But he lacked character. Letitia had been able to perceive that in the few minutes she’d conversed with him.
She stepped from the room—and halted in shock.
Marian stood outside the door, her eyes murderous.
Edward left the private parlor, his conversation with the duchess concluded. He heard a woman’s voice raised in anger.
“How dare you defy me? Did I not explicitly tell you to stay away from the marquis? Be warned, Letitia. I’ll not be crossed. Grandmama may have had her say in the matter of allowing you to masquerade as a lady, but you’re still my servant.”
“Yes, m’lady.” These words came quiet, meek.
Curious as to what poor soul was receiving such an undeserved diatribe, Edward rounded the corner. The lovely woman he’d glimpsed the previous night glanced at him, her eyes widening. Her stance haughty, the woman he remembered as Lady Marian Ackers looked over her shoulder at him, then turned her attention to the timid girl who evidently bore the brunt of her ire. He assumed his servant’s attire had summarily dismissed him from the lady’s mind.
“We will speak more on the matter later,” Lady Marian said in dulcet tones. “I’ve other affairs to which I must attend.” She flounced away, the bell skirts of her yellow gown swishing with her actions.
Edward did a quick study of the other woman. Her huge eyes had narrowed, and her rosy mouth was pinched as she looked after her departing mistress. Ah! What’s this? Perhaps the fair maiden was not so timid after all.
Before he could walk past, her hand lighted upon his sleeve, and he halted in surprise.
“Please, sir.” She dropped her hand away with a becoming flush. “If I may have a moment of your time? Two weeks past, on a foggy night in London, I had the good fortune to receive aid from a stranger whose nature was the epitome of benevolence. Are you that man?”
Edward started in surprise. “The girl with the tea cakes.” But this was no
child, as he’d thought her then!
She awarded him with a most beatific smile. “Sí, ’tis I. Your kindness is surpassed only by your consideration, sir, if they’re not one and the same. When the servant came to Windham Hall to fetch the cloak you’d lent me, I was amazed to receive your gift of tea cakes as well.”
Edward inclined his head. “I’m delighted to hear the act brought you pleasure.”
“Such a word seems inadequate, given the circumstances. Your thoughtful deed spared me a second chastising, since I was unable to replace them the following morning due to the rain.”
“After witnessing the behavior of Lady Marian Ackers, I don’t doubt it.”
Her long lashes swept downward, and Edward realized he’d intruded where he had no right. “Forgive my lack of decorum. My only defense is that I detest seeing anyone mistreated.” In India especially, he’d been appalled by the manner in which Lord Hathaway’s servants were dealt. Perhaps the man could run the silk plantation upon which Edward lived, but he was not a merciful lord.
“Please don’t misunderstand me. Lady Marian isn’t so dreadful. Not compared to some of the nobles I’ve met.” Her eyes grew large at her gaffe, and she swept her gaze to the tiles once more.
Edward was delighted. Not only was she loyal, she was also sweetly naive. Not polished to a hard sophisticated sheen like most of the women he’d met. “And you’re not one of those greatly esteemed?”
“Indeed not. Surely you heard what my lady spoke?” At his slight nod, she continued, “I’m but a poor relation and, except for this week, my cousin Marian’s companion. But please don’t reveal this. It’s supposed to be kept secret.”
“Indeed?”
She nodded. “The Dowager Viscountess Ackers arranged it.”
Ah, that explained it. “Your secret is safe with me. But tell me, why the intrigue?”
“She expressed her desire that I be treated as a lady this week. I almost was a lady, you see—” Her words abruptly ceased, as though she’d just become aware of what she revealed. Shock dissolved, the small chin went up, the slim shoulders straightened, and Edward received a glimpse of her proud, indomitable spirit. “My mamá denied her father’s choice of a husband and eloped with the youngest son of a Spanish count. My papá. Because he’s the youngest son, according to law he received nothing when his papá died. All the land and monies went to his eldest brother.”
British Brides Collection Page 34
