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As she ripped open the letter, she soon saw that Richard felt precisely the same way, only he did not wish to move on in the same manner she desired.
To Lady Leticia Hudson,
It has long been my wish for the arrangement between us to come to an end. I did think, for a short time, while we were in the country together, that events might transpire that would sway my thinking. But now, I see that a future between the two of us is an impossibility. I have suffered a great deal over the past two months, and my only wish now is for the both of us to move forward with our lives. I wish you health and prosperity in the days ahead.
Sincerely,
R
Leticia gasped so loudly, the door behind her swung open. She could not be sure if Eliza and Harry had been waiting there, hoping that she would return soon, or if they both just happened to come to her aid quickly. Either way, she was bombarded by her two friends.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.
“Have you had terrible news?” Eliza questioned. Leticia’s hands shook slightly as she folded the letter and tucked it back in its envelope. She shoved the paper deep into the pocket of her dress and lifted her head.
“Of course not,” she said, pressing a smile on her face. “Why would either of you think such a thing?”
“Well…” Harry drawled, “you disappeared so quickly, and then, I heard you shout.”
“I did no such thing,” Leticia said, wagging a finger at him. “I do believe you are exaggerating.”
“Me?” Harry joked. “Never.”
“Come,” Leticia prompted. She completely ignored her cousin’s joking manner and turned to smile sweetly at Eliza. “Let us go back into the drawing room. Now that Harry is here, we should make plans for the evening. Am I misremembering or did you say there was a party we ought to attend tonight?”
Eliza laughed and led the way back inside the room with Harry trailing after her. The two of them returned to their seats and began chatting amiably about the various events and soirees they had been invited to attend and wondering if it was too late to skip Lord and Lady Charleston’s card party tonight in favor of going to a musical evening at Mr. and Mrs. Franklin’s townhouse.
As they parried their ideas back and forth, Leticia stopped listening. She sat very still in her seat, but her eyes drifted back toward the rain-spattered window.
He doesn’t love me. He never did.
“What do you think, Letty?” Harry asked, trying to pull her into the conversation. “Should you prefer a card party to a musical evening.”
Leticia shrugged. “Pick whichever you like. I will be satisfied no matter the venue.”
Both Harry and Eliza began to laugh. “Some things never change, Letty.” Harry put a hand on her knee. “You are sure to be the life of the party no matter where you go.”
But Harry doesn’t understand. Some things do change. Weeks ago, I couldn’t imagine being with Richard for more than a long weekend. But now…I cannot get him off my mind.
Harry rose then and bid them both farewell, promising to return in a few hours with a carriage, so he might transport them all safely to Lord and Lady Charleston’s card party. As he departed, Leticia said goodbye half-heartedly.
“Now,” Eliza whispered just as soon as he was out the door, and they were alone once more. “Tell me everything I do not know.”
Leticia’s lower lip trembled, and she reached into her pocket, extracting the letter from Richard. She took little comfort in the fact that her friend could read her so easily. “I didn’t think it was possible,” she whimpered.
Eliza held out her arms for a hug and Leticia walked into them. “You love the Duke,” her friend whispered. “It is plain to see. I don’t need to read that letter to know. Whatever he has done…whatever that letter says…it has broken your heart.”
Fresh tears welled in Leticia’s eyes, and as she leaned against Eliza’s shoulder, she let them flow freely. “Why doesn’t he love me?” she breathed. Her friend shook her head, either unable or unwilling to answer. And as Leticia clung to Eliza, allowing herself this moment of misery, the mystery of Richard and his untouchable emotions hung in the air like a specter, alive in shape and form but incorporeal and impossible to understand.
CHAPTERTHIRTY
“Will you quit your grumping and come over here?” his mother commanded, and Richard turned to stare at her. She was resplendent in a lively pink gown. The sleeves were sewn so that they looked like the petals on her beloved rose buds, and she wore a matching sun bonnet atop her head.
“Coming,” he called. His mother had organized her annual garden party in Hyde Park. Near the Serpentine, there was a gathering of row boats which guests might decide to take a spin in later as the sun began to heat up the park making the proximity to the water seem desirable. Scattered about the grounds, there were large white tents, the flaps of which billowed as a strong summer breeze lifted them. Inside each tent was an array of confections as well as several different punches and lemonades on which guests were expected to sip throughout the day.
The Dowager stood proudly at the entrance to the park, surveying the grounds before her as though she owned them. “It is going to be a lovely day, Richard.”
“Yes, Mother.”
