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Letty gazed at his thick chestnut brown hair, so like her own, though hers had been streaked with gray for years. His hair was his only resemblance to her. Everything else—his high forehead, his sturdy chin, his hazel eyes—was his father all over again. Especially his godforsaken sense of misplaced propriety.
There was no denying that Robert was every inch a lord’s by-blow.
He blew out a sigh. “I know I should not be ashamed, Mum. But it dogs my feet everywhere I go. If I cannot secure myself aprofession, how am I to live? This is my opportunity to advance myself. I cannot waste it. Iwillnot.”
“Is your illegitimacy the only thing Mr. Selkirk finds objectionable?”
Robert averted his eyes. “He has mentioned his dislike of women in professions.”
“Women such as myself?” Mr. Selkirk sounded like a pompous ass who would do better to keep his opinions to himself.
“Well. I suppose so. Yes. You know, Mum, I was wondering if I could beg a favor from you, until the apprenticeship is chosen.” His eyes beseeched her.
“What exactly do you need?”
“You take so many jobs for the professional men in Holborn, but it means you are always working near where my offices are. I almost had to accost Mr. Selkirk to prevent him from seeing you the other day. I—well—I haven’t told him that you stillwork.”
“But everyone knows I work. Robert, we have lived in this neighborhood your whole life. People know us.”
“Well. I may have let him believe that you had given it up and had settled into a respectable living. At home.”
She was too shocked to feel hurt. “You are ashamed of me? Your own mother?”
“Never that. But maybe after the judge’s quarters, you could consider not taking another job?” He cast his eyes down and Letty thought he might be a moment away from scuffing his shoe like a schoolboy. “He should choose among the clerks soon.”
“How soon?”
“Maybe Yuletide,” he muttered without meeting her eye.
“I can’t be without work for months, Robert! We’re stretched tight enough as it is. This is a fool’s hope that you’re nurturing. What if Mr. Selkirk doesn’t even choose you?”
His face mottled. “The one thing I ask of you!” he cried. “And you deny me.”
Letty willed herself to be patient. “Robert, Holborn is where I work. The men who hire me recommend me to their friends and colleagues, and yes—they may well be in the same area. That’s how it is.”
“Then I am forever twice damned, both in birth and in consequence.”
Robert’s bitter words hung in the air after he stormed out of the apartment. The four whitewashed walls of their sitting room felt like they were closing in on her.
Letty had spent her adult life in this neighborhood, cheek to jowl among barristers and artisans and their apprentices. Granted, she used to have the lease on a grander house a few streets over, but it was no use remembering better times.
How could she find a job outside of her network? Her reputation wasn’t impressive enough for people to find her on the strength of her name. It was difficult when so few people understood the value that she could give them. People were accustomed to architects furnishing their homes and offices when they were built and hiring craftsmen directly to provide any necessary refurnishing. It had taken time and effort for her to convince the neighborhood that although she produced nothing with her own hands, she could facilitate things by coordinating with all the necessary people on a project and could design rooms that were suited to the individual’s needs of the moment, instead of merely following the initial architect’s plans.
Yet if Robert was asking for help, how could she refuse it? There was a pit in her stomach when she thought of Robert’s angry face. It reminded her of her father, screaming at her to leave Lincolnshire after she had found herself in a delicate condition.
Robert was all she had now. She couldn’t bear to lose him, too.
She drummed her fingers on the table, then sighed as she swept the crumbs from Robert’s sandwich into her palm and dusted them into the empty fireplace. It would do her no good to stay here for the afternoon, not with the memory of Robert’s words as company.
After the work for the judge, she had nothing lined up. She had no reason to go downstairs to her tiny workroom with her sketchbook, much as she would like to lose herself for a while in dreams.
Judge Peterson wouldn’t be inclined to recommend her services now that she couldn’t deliver the marble, so maybe Robert didn’t have to worry about her being employed in the same area after all.
But perhaps one of her usual suppliers would have good news for her. Maybe someone knew of an opportunity. Ideally someone with a snug little house far away, in desperate need of repair. As long as its owner wasn’t cursed with a noble title, or more money than sense.
Letty drew on her thick wool cloak again and left the apartment, determined to find something.
Anything.
