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Letty felt the words like a punch. “I wouldneversleep with an employer for a good letter of recommendation.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. But what would others think?”
“Then maybe you were right, and this was a terrible mistake.” Letty felt the unfairness of it deep in her bones, but knew Anne was right. Tongues could wag, and this time it could be disastrous for her.
“If we are discreet, then we can have what we both want, and no one will be the wiser. There is no risk.” Anne paused. “I have never felt such desire before.”
Letty was surprised. “Surely this isn’t the first time?”
“No, no. Not the first. But I’ve never felt so tempted beyond control.”
Letty resisted the urge to puff out her chest with pride. Discretion was a small price to pay for such compliments, and the chance to slake this wild desire that burned between them.
“Shall we see each other again tomorrow?” Anne asked.
“I would love to. And I know exactly where we should go.”
Anne frowned. “I thought you would come back to the house?”
“There will be time enough at the house,” she promised, enjoying the softness she saw in Anne’s eyes. “But there is enjoymentto be had outside, and freedom of its own sort in a crowd. It will still be discreet. Trust me.”
There was nothing Letty wanted more than to go back to Hawthorne House and find a bed. But if their liaison was to be secret, then she needed to know that she was wanted for herself—not for convenience. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe that there could ever be a proper relationship between a duchess and someone like her, but she wanted more than to trade sexual favors.
It was too much like John otherwise, taking what he wanted because he had access and opportunity. She wasn’t a naive girl anymore. She wanted dignity and friendship.
Anne was smiling at her, a wide-open smile that was nothing like her polite duchess demeaner. “I trust you,” she said, and the words came with a fierce burst of happiness in Letty’s heart.
* * *
The wind permeated through Anne’s scarf and blew around her ears under her hood, but her fur-lined pelisse was thick enough to ward off the worst of the chill. It was the coldest January that she could remember, with snow banked up everywhere she set eyes.
The sky was blue with enough clouds for snowflakes to continue falling. They sparkled in the sun before melting on Anne’s sleeves and gloves, but she wasn’t impressed enough with their beauty to be happy about being in the midst of it.
“This is the very worst idea anyone has ever had,” she announced around the vicinity of Letty’s head, which was bobbing in front of her at knee level.
Letty peeked up, that maddening little smile fixed on her full lips. Her hair was bundled up under her top hat, though a few long tendrils had escaped to dance around her face. “If this is such a poor idea, then pray tell me why we are surrounded by such a crowd? Why are our ears suffering from the happy shrieks and laughs of children?”
Anne scowled. “Maybe this is the right idea forthem.”
“But not for a rarified polished jewel of the nobility, Your Grace?”
Anne tried to think of a retort, but in truth it was hard to think of anything at all through the pleasure that coursed through her at being teased. She was seated on a bench, and Letty was at her feet, lacing blades to the bottom of Anne’s boots for an afternoon of ice skating. She had thought Letty an exemplar of efficiency, but she had been in this position for some time now, her hands roving over her ankles in a way that felt most shocking, even through layers of sock and boot and glove.
Especially in public.
Especially beneath her skirts.
Anne’s face flamed, and she scanned the crowd. But no one was paying attention to two women preparing themselves for a turn about the frozen pond, and in fact she could see several other couples in their exact same position. They were safe here, protected by the crowd and the nature of the activity which necessitated such intimacies. Letty could have chosen no better public venue which lent itself so well to private flirtation.
“I think that should be secure.” Letty’s voice broke into Anne’s thoughts as she stood, dusting the snow from her skirt. She looked dashing in a dark navy pelisse which set off her pale complexion, and which had been fashioned to look like a man’s greatcoat with layers of capes at the shoulders.
Anne gripped her outstretched hand and allowed herself to be pulled up, wobbling on ankles that had never felt a moment’s uncertainty before.
“I feel like a kitten learning to walk,” she said. She looked into Letty’s eyes and felt her stomach dip along with the sway of her ankles.
“Worry not, I won’t allow you to fall.”
Advancing inch by precarious inch, they made it to the glassy surface of the pond. Anne stared down at it, then at the people who whizzed by, elegant and wonderful. It was that carefree freedom in their faces that encouraged her to make the extra step to the ice.
