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Fraser ran a thumb over his beard. “If you wish to aim high, I heard talk from Wynn that the Duchess of Hawthorne is looking for an architect. We supplied the dukedom with an oak table a few years ago, and the same architect has been in touch with us in case they get the job.”
“Is that so?” George asked. “I heard nothing from Hawthorne about it, and we’re thick as thieves.” He had run in the same circles as the duke when both men had lived in Paris. “Not that Hawthorne would be up to date with what the duchess chooses to do. You could be a good fit, Letty. You’re too talented to be only designing for the shops around here.”
She almost spit her coffee out. “Me? Work for aduchess? You know I avoid the nobility like the plague. They all say one thing, but they mean quite another. It’s not worth the investment. Besides,” she added with a roll of her eyes, “a duchess would expect to hire aman, with wealth of his own as well as a wealth of experience furnishing great estates. No, I am quite out of the running.”
Marcus laughed. “It’s easy, Letty. Invent yourself a title and a pedigree and then waltz into the house like you own it. Perhaps she will be impressed by your nerve. In business, you must take risks now and then to get ahead.”
“Lies aren’t the way to get ahead,” Fraser snapped, his eyes flashing at Marcus.
“I won’t even pretend to be married, let alone pretend to be nobility. I’m not ashamed to be Miss Letitia Barrow.”
Fraser leaned in and stabbed at the table with his index finger. “Haven’t you often said that you wanted to build your name? Working for the Hawthornes would put it on the map. In great big letters. George is right. You’re talented enough to move on from the opportunities that you have had so far.”
She saw it in her mind’s eye. Her name, on lists of illustrious designers. Her name, bandied about during conversations of who to consult for the latest trends or timeless fashions. Her name, coupled with the phrase, “I simplymusthave a room by Barrow.”
“How do you think you’re going to get ahead without patronage?” Marcus waved a bite of pasty for emphasis. “Everyone does such things for business. I certainly have.”
“The duchess wouldn’t be my patron,” Letty said. “It would be one job. If I were interested. Which I am not.”
“One very lucrative job,” Marcus pointed out. “Haven’t you heard that the Hawthornes are as rich as Croesus?”
“That’s even worse,” she protested. “Fraser, you have worked with plenty of clients who are richer than they are sensible. You can’t agree with such nonsense.”
Fraser winked at a waiter through his quizzing glass, then let out anoofwhen Marcus elbowed him in the ribs with a bland apology. “I don’t recall there being any problems with the job. But it was only one table that we built for the duchess.”
“What about Robert, then?” George asked. “Couldn’t you use a windfall and help him on his feet?”
“He needs to learn that not everything is handed out for free,” Letty said.
“There’s nothing wrong with helping when you can,” Fraser said. “Wouldn’t it be nice to gift him the nest egg that his father should have laid for him, if he hadn’t been such a thoughtless prick?”
Shecouldprovide that, couldn’t she? The Wilson family might have cut them off, but she could make it right. She could make Robert forget the hurt of being abandoned, like she had been by her own father. She wanted him to work and earn a living, but it would be sweet revenge indeed on the Wilsons if she could be the one to give him everything he deserved without a ha’penny of their help.
Her friends were right. This is what she had wanted. What she had dreamed of. What she had worked for. “George, would you be willing to talk to the duke?”
George hesitated. “I can always put in a word with the duke, but his word won’t hold water with the duchess. She despises him these days.”
“My calling card would end up in the butler’s dustbin before the duchess could ever clap eyes on it.” Her hopes dashed, she slumped back against the booth.
Fraser looked thoughtful. “George, couldn’t you see if Hawthorne would be willing to give word to the duchess’s secretary to include Letty in the interviews, instead of speaking to the duchess? I’ve heard that Hawthorne is always willing to help out people like us.” He patted her hand. “Look around you, Letty lass. You are surrounded by friends, and we will find something for you even if this doesn’t work out.”
Finally, she thought, her heart full. Maybe luck was going to turn her way after all.
Chapter Twenty
It felt odd going somewhere with Anne without the security of the Hawthorne carriage. The choice was met with obvious disapproval from the butler when Anne also refused the protection of a footman, but as she had told Letty earlier when they had made their plans, they couldn’t very well take the servants with them to an oyster tavern run by sodomites without expecting some degree of gossip.
Letty rarely felt afraid in the streets of London. Many of the walking sticks in her collection had a thin sword tucked in the shaft, hand-crafted and gifted to her by Fraser over the years. She gave the ground a quick tap with her stick. She wasn’t nervous for herself, but tonight she was traveling with something precious. Tonight it would fall to Letty to protect the duchess if anything should happen. The notion made her stand a little taller and puff out her chest a bit.
She could take care of Anne.
The problem was that she was starting to want to take care of her forever. Not just for a night on the town, or a night of pleasure. She wanted to draw up a future for them together, after the work on the house was finished. But how could it ever work? Anne was a duchess with duties to society, and Letty wasn’t willing to live in the shadows forever, stealing time where she could while Anne lived her life.
Tonight wasn’t wholly about showing Anne what it was like to be in spaces designed for people like them, or to help her understand her husband.
Introducing her lover to her friends was the first step toward seeing if they could fit their lives together.
Letty flagged down a hackney and tucked Anne inside before giving direction to the driver and stepping in herself.
