A candle was already burning inside, casting light through the sheer curtain of one of the windows. Miss Knightley didn’t seem like the kind of person to leave a candle burning recklessly—nor could anyone living in this neighborhood afford to do so.
“Curious,” he muttered to himself.
A shadow moved past the window, even though Miss Knightley was still on the doorstep.
So, little Miss Knightley did not live alone. Did she have a lover? A governesswouldhide that.
The idea tugged unpleasantly at him, though that was ridiculous. The woman was welcome to do whatever she wanted, even something as stupid and reckless as hiding a man in her home. Besides, there wasn’t anything he could do about it. She had not accepted his offer of employment.
He knocked on the roof of the carriage after she went inside, then directed the coachman back toward his home.
Miss Knightley had not accepted his offer of employment.
Not yet, anyway.
CHAPTER 5
“How did it go?” Sarah asked, bouncing on her toes, her good arm pressed to her chest, the other sleeve neatly pinned up to hide where the limb ended just above the elbow.
Letitia smiled at her friend, trying to shake off the utter strangeness of the encounter with the Duke of Rutley.
Sarah Greystone had been Letty’s close friend since they were children. They’d both worked as maids in Belgium, training under Sarah’s late mother, who was a housekeeper for an elderly Englishwoman. Letitia was skilled enough at her letters that their employer kindly arranged for her to attend school to train as a governess, while Sarah stayed behind with her mother, but the two girls never lost touch.
When their employer and Sarah’s mother had both passed, Sarah had found herself without protection in the world—and since she had been born without much of her right arm, she’d been without the means to secure herself new employment.
It didn’t matter that Sarah’s cooking was the kind of thing that made angels weep. Nobody wanted a one-armed servant.
When Letitia had left Belgium to work for the Lightholders, she had used her very first wages to summon her friend to London and to secure these lodgings, meager though they were. Letty had never regretted this decision, not for a moment, though she knew that Sarah struggled with guilt over relying on Letitia’s earnings.
“It was fine,” Letitia said, shrugging out of her spencer. It was her best one, the one she wore when she needed to make a good impression. She wasn’t about to risk getting anything on it by wearing it at home. “I think the Bassetts are the better choice, however. Do we still have the letter from them? I should return the note.”
“Of course!” Sarah pulled the letter from the little shelf where they kept such things, then handed it to Letitia before shooing her over to their small table. “You send your reply. I am almost finished cooking supper.”
Like most homes of this size, their little flat didn’t have a proper kitchen, but it did have a fire, and Sarah was fiercely committed to stretching their pennies as far as she could. When Letitia worked for the Lightholders, who paid generously and provided her with room and board, this wasn’t as crucial; now, she appreciated her friend’s frugality. It helped keep her nagging worries at bay while she searched for new employment.
“It smells wonderful,” Letitia called absently as she mixed a small amount of ink. She wouldn’t bother asking what it was. Recently, they’d had stew, stew, and more stew, as it was one of the easier and cheaper foods to make. Letty liked stew—and Sarah made a delicious one—but she was starting to have vivid, longing dreams about other meals. Any other meal, really.
Sarah made a vague noise of acknowledgment, implying that she was also tired of eating the same foods repeatedly but didn’t want to complain.
Letitia wasn’t sure if complaining would help, but she was beginning to think that this stubborn cheerfulness might drive both of them crazy.
She now had an offer of employment, though. She would begin working again soon. That would change things.
“I applied for another post today,” Sarah said from her place in front of the fire. “But they sent me away as soon as they saw my arm. I am so sorry, Letty.”
Letitia paused in the act of dipping her pen in the ink to give her friend a stern look.
“Donotapologize,” she said firmly.
“But—”
“Sarah Greystone, I will throw this ink at you. And then you will have ink in your hair. Do you know how hard it will be to get ink out of your hair?”
Sarah paused. “I might catch it,” she said after a moment, the heaviness gone from her voice. “I am very adroit like that.”
“Shall we test it?” Letty asked lightly, just to make her friend laugh.
As Sarah served up the stew, Letitia carefully wrote her acceptance of the role at the Bassetts. She didn’t have paper to spare if she made splotches, so she was cautious as she agreed to start Monday next.
