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Leticia sighed glumly. “Your mother and my aunt are determined to see me find my match this weekend. I don’t think I can be asked to endure such torture.”
Richard chuckled. “Come now, you pied ninny. Finding a husband is not quite the calamitous affair you make it out to be.”
“So, you say,” she paused before tacking on, “you crystal-button, knot-pated pouch.” Now they both tittered with laughter, but Richard saw how Leticia did not take her hands from her forehead.
“Here,” he said, reaching forward and placing his fingertips lightly near the spot where she was pressing. “Tell me if this hurts.”
“It hurts.”
“I hardly even touched you,” Richard argued then, he extended his hand toward her and escorted her safely off the staircase. Now that they both had their two feet firmly on the ground, he gently placed both hands on her shoulders. “Relax,” he said soothingly, “I just want to see if you hurt your head.”
“I didn’t hurt my head…thank you very much. If anyone hurt my head, it was you when you turned to go barreling up the stairs. Where were you going in such a hurry anyway?”
As she had just answered his question honestly, admitting to fleeing the company of her aunt and his mother because she didn’t wish to speak frankly about getting married, he knew it was only right and proper to do her the same courtesy by sharing exactly what he’d been doing. But now, with his fingers gently moving along Leticia’s forehead, and her wide hazel eyes looking at him expectantly, he couldn’t quite recall what had made him leave the library behind in such a hurried manner.
“It’s unimportant,” Richard returned, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
“I’d say it was very important,” Leticia scoffed. “If I should suffer a head trauma from our collision, I must have something to report to the physician so that he can tell others why it’s necessary I miss the rest of the wedding weekend.”
“You moldy bounder,” Richard whispered appreciatively. “Are you, even as we speak, crafting a plan to get out of this wedding weekend?”
“Are you?” Leticia retorted with the challenge thick in her voice. It was then that Richard realized just how very close they were standing to one another. He was so near to Leticia, he could smell the sweet perfume of the bluebells that dangled from her hair.
“Of course not,” Richard answered, pulling his hands away from her forehead and taking two large steps backward, the heels of his boots clacking on the parquet floor, giving emphasis to his movements that were designed to separate them. “I was merely—” But he didn’t have to finish his statement with fabrication as a sudden noise startled Leticia.
Her eyebrows lifted and all signs of her previous pain disappeared. She smiled at him. “I’ve got to get out of here,” she said, glancing down the hall in the direction of where the noise emanated. “Want to come with me?” She held out her hand to him, and for a beat, he considered taking it. Almost as if she could sense the way his soul was wavering, she deepened the taunt by whispering, “I’ll never tell anyone where we’ve gone.”
Richard gazed into her eyes then, seeing them dance merrily with mischief and mirth. He raised his hand to put it in her own but then tucked it behind his back instead. “You go on ahead, and should I need to seek refuge later, I will come in search of you.”
“As if you’ll ever be able to find me.” With that, Leticia raised one finger to her lips and made a motion as though to silence him. She twirled one time, allowing her white skirts that were trimmed in pale gold stitching to swirl around her, and then, as if she were emulating Queen Titania herself, she skipped down the hallway, turned toward the backdoor, and disappeared.
Leticia…Richard stood for a moment, thinking of his childhood friend and her enigmatic ways.
While she’d always been forthright and honest, saying whatever came to mind whether wholly improper or otherwise, over the years, she’d developed this quality that left Richard feeling dazzled whenever she went away. It was as if she knew the secret to life and was willing to share it with him, but to be worthy of such, he had to give up something very dear to him.
He snorted at his own foolish thoughts.
Ladies…they’re all full of surprises.
He began to mount the staircase then in earnest, willing his thoughts to return to his future wife, Miss Loery, but it was no good. When Richard reached the top of the stairs, he walked straight to the window and searched for Leticia, certain he’d be able to spot the white and gold of her dress against the green lawn, but true to her word, she’d vanished.
He stood there for a moment longer, surveying the grounds, but his actions proved fruitless. As he shook his head and backed away from the window, Richard tried awkwardly to skip as Leticia had done, but he stumbled, running into one of the enormous, gilded frames encasing a painting of his great-grandfather, the second Duke of Braxton, that hung prominently in the hall. He groaned and clutched at his stinging elbow.
Curse Leticia and her spritely ways.
But even then, he couldn’t stay angry with her long. He was too busy wondering what on Earth she would get up to next.
CHAPTERTHREE
What to do…what to do—
As Leticia dashed out the backdoor of Braxton Manor she made the immediate decision to steer clear of the games that were being set up on the lawn. Gorgeous white tents had been erected, and surely, the ladies would be glad of them today as the sun was beaming brightly. When not seeking shelter from the unseasonably hot conditions, members of thetonwho had been specially invited to take part in the wedding weekend celebration would be able to participate in games of battledores and shuttlecocks, blind man’s bluff, and, of course, nine pins. Braxton Manor had a splendid lawn for bowling. With its location being so close to London, the Estate was not what one would call sprawling, but it did have finely maintained grass and flower gardens.
But knowing that all those areas would be teeming with guests was reason enough to make Leticia venture to otherwise unused areas of the grounds. She headed toward the stables where she imagined it would be just busy enough this time of day, with carriages being brought round continuously, that she could slip in unsuspected and steal away with her favorite horse, Helena. When the chestnut-colored mare was but a foal, Richard named the filly after one of his favorite Shakespearean characters, Helena from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” Leticia and Helena had taken to each other at once, and now, whenever she visited Braxton Manor, Leticia made time to ride the beautiful creature.
“Oh, Helena,” Leticia whispered as she skulked through the stables, carefully keeping herself squashed against the wooden stalls, hoping to avoid running into anyone else with every turn. “I’ve come to make my escape.”
“Exactly what do you think you are doing out here, young lady?” A furious masculine voice caught Leticia completely unaware, and she spun on her heel to see who followed her into the stables. Indignantly, both her hands clenched into small fists, and they went to her curvy hips.
