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“My friends should already be there by the time we arrive,” she told Anne. “You’ll have plenty of people to look out for you.”
“I feel safe with you,” Anne said.
Her chest warmed. Making Anne feel safe and comfortable gave her a feeling more potent than wine.
Light from the lantern that hung outside the carriage fell on Anne’s face, and Letty saw that her lips were set tight together.
“We can turn around, Anne,” she said softly. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” she said, lifting her chin and meeting Letty’s eyes. “I want to understand.”
Donovan’s Oyster Tavern wasn’t far from Mayfair. The wind was strong enough to make the big wooden sign swing from the iron bar above the door, and Anne tugged her hood closer over her face as they made their way from the carriage to the red brick building. Letty slid an arm behind her to steady her. “Here we are.”
Opening the door to the eating house was like coming home. Letty relaxed the moment she was inside as warmth slid over her body like an embrace, the noise and chatter of familiar voices filling her ears and her heart.
This is what she had been missing at Hawthorne House. Community. Camaraderie. The press of bodies on all sides, waiters darting around them and through the throng. It was a stark contrast to the aridity of the ducal dining room.
Letty heard her name being called. She grabbed Anne’s hand. “Come, meet my friends.”
They wove around tables filled with laughing men, past lanterns that glinted off oyster shells and glassware, and finallyfound themselves in front of a table in the corner that was already littered with empty glasses of blue ruin.
“Gentlemen, this is Anne,” she said, dispensing with the title to protect her identity, though of course her friends knew who she was with all she had said to them about her.
Letty held Anne’s chair as she sat, pushing it in before taking a seat beside her. “Anne, may I present to you some of the dearest men in my life? Fraser is a woodworker with his own business, and also my neighbor. Marcus owns a stationary shop on Chancery Lane.”
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, good sirs.” Anne gave them the fraction-of-an-inch nod that Letty remembered well from when they first met.
Letty narrowed her eyes. Fraser and Marcus were sitting close enough together that they might as well be on each other’s laps, and they were grinning like fools. “What’s happening here, fellows? Why are you in such a good mood?”
“You haven’t been around much these days, Letty lass.” Fraser tried to look reproving but his smile ruined the effect. “If you weren’t too busy to check in on your friends, maybe you would know.”
That stung. “I’ve been working.”
“But when is the last time you let work get in the way of your life to this degree?” Fraser nodded at Anne. “Begging your pardon, but we saw rather more of Letty before she started your renovations.”
“I have told her she keeps long hours,” Anne said, nodding seriously. “I quite agree with you.”
“Some of those hours are because I am in your bed!” she protested, but she saw the little upturn on Anne’s lips that meant she was teasing.
“Nothing like a romp in the hay to resettle one’s priorities.” Marcus smirked. “I finally convinced Fraser back to my bed and we have made our amends, happier than ever.”
Fraser shoved him. “We had much more than a romp, you dolt.” He beamed at Letty. “We had a talk, and we’ve decided to try our hand at being exclusively with one another. It’s been weeks, you know, since you’ve seen us. You’ve missed rather a lot.”
Letty shook her head. “These accusations are rather unfair when all I am trying to do is earn my bread.” She hesitated and thought of Robert claiming much the same thing. “Though I get your point. I shall make more of an effort to see you both. You deserve better.”
“Duly noted, and we love you too. By the way, I like this woman of yours, Letty,” Fraser said with a grin.
“I do too,” said Marcus. “But why aren’t you playing the gallant and ordering her a drink? She will think you a poor host indeed.”
“Very true, I am remiss in my duties.” Letty flagged down a waiter and ordered wine for the table.
The air was warm, and redolent with cigar smoke. Anne had worn her hair down tonight for the first time that Letty had known her. At least, outside the bedchamber. Her hair fell in thick golden ringlets that helped to obscure her face, and the tendrils at her temples were damp with sweat from the heat of the room. She caught Letty’s eye and grinned, exuding a joy that Letty also hadn’t seen much of outside the bedchamber.
In the carriage, Anne had seemed hesitant, and Letty had expected her to be shy once inside the tavern. Instead, her eyes were bright with curiosity, scanning the crowd and the staff and décor and catching the occasional sight of a man slipping up the stairs in pursuit of another man. Anne slid her hand onto Letty’s thigh, and she gripped it tight.
This was a woman to keep.
Platters of oysters and glasses of ale and wine were brought round in a ceaseless dance, clattering down on the table and disappearing down gullets, then the empty vessels removed and replaced with efficiency.
