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“But—” Miss Walch began, and her befuddlement was clearly etched on her face. While she might be Miss Loery’s dearest friend, she obviously didn’t know the first thing about her.
Miss Loery held up her hand to silence her discomforted friend. “Take heart. No one will be hurt by our little scheme. Matthew and I will live together happily…His Grace will carry on with his everyday business, just as he always has…and in a few years, when we can take it no longer, and we’ve managed to squirrel away a fair share of His Grace’s wealth, Matthew and I will make our escape.”
“Your escape?” Miss Walch breathed. “But where will you go?”
Now, Mrs. NeVille re-entered the conversation. “Wherever they want!” As the ladies in the chamber burst once again into tumultuous giggles, Leticia reeled. The low heels she’d been wearing suddenly seemed much taller, and she tottered as she fought to maintain her balance.
Miss Loery doesn’t love Richard? She doesn’t even like him or respect him? Oh, malicious woman!
Furiously, Leticia took a step toward the door, determined to barge in there, confess what she overheard, and dare Miss Loery to deny her whole miserable plot, but then, she got another idea.
She hitched up her skirts and dashed down the hall, eager to find her friend and warn him away from this imprudent marriage.
CHAPTERFOUR
Just two more steps, old boy, then you can relax in the quiet of your chamber.
His encounter with Leticia on the steps left him feeling even more unstable than he’d been after finishing off the entire contents of the bottle of claret. The way she spun away from him, placing one slender finger to her lips made his mind whirl.
She’s something else…that Leticia Hudson.
Now that he thought about it, they hadn’t been together or spent any real quality time with one another for almost a year. Last Season, he’d devoted his days to courting Miss Loery. But then, in January, he turned eight-and-twenty years of age and itched to cross yet another item off his list, so it was early in March when he proposed to Miss Loery, and now, here they were—just days away from the blessed event. The last few steps took much more effort than Richard anticipated so that when he finally reached the door to his chamber, he nearly collapsed. He reached for the doorknob, and just the act of twisting it felt labored.
You are doing the right thing. Marrying Miss Loery will not only help you check the next item off your list, but she is a winning creature. Together, you and your wife will be the envy of the ton. Starting this very weekend, everyone will be talking about you, and they will be silently agreeing that you belong with each other.
As he swung open the door and shuffled to his four-post bed, which sat prominently in the middle of the chamber between two large rectangular windows, he shielded his sensitive eyes from the garish sun.
“Argh,” he moaned, moving toward the heavy scarlet and white draperies that had been pulled away from the mullioned windows. “Must it be so bright in here?” He begged his feet to do his bidding for just a few more moments as he made his way across the soft carpeting and paused at the windows.
“Seeing as it’s still before noon, I’d say it’s a jolly good thing the sun is out and shining. You wouldn’t want the rain to ruin your wedding celebrations.” Normally, when a disembodied voice spoke from out of nowhere, Richard would have been likely to spin toward the direction from which it came, but even in his inebriated state, he knew that the speaker was his friend, Harry, so he didn’t waste time or energy by turning to greet him.
Instead, he grunted and forcefully tugged the first set of curtains together.
“Come now,” Harry continued in his jubilant way, “have you taken ill, or have you already had one too many glasses of champagne?”
It was very unlike Richard to over-imbibe. He was a prudent man and overindulging in anything, especially alcohol, offended his sense of judiciousness. He believed that men and women were at their best when they practiced strict adherence to moderation, but on this occasion, he’d fallen below his own impossibly high standards. He shook his head. “Had a bottle of claret.” Now, confessing his actions aloud, he let out a small hiccup, and that sent him into a further downward spiral.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever known you to do such a thing,” Harry said, his voice a mixture of awe and confusion.
“I haven’t,” Richard replied as he careened toward the bed and flopped on the red and white satin bedspread. He traced his fingers over the soft fabric, feeling the delicate texture of the light-weight material. “Why must everything in this chamber be white and scarlet?”
Harry snorted. “Those are the colors of the Braxton family. You know that.”
“Yes,” Richard replied sulkily, “but sometimes, I think I’d like to change them.”
“Whatever for?”
“Because sometimes,” Richard said, turning his head so that he could look sideways at the bedding, “when I squint my eyes…like this…I think all the white and dark red look like blood spilled on a field that has been blanketed in snow.”
“That’s rather macabre…especially on one’s wedding day,” Harry commented. He grabbed the chair that sat near Richard’s writing desk that was stationed in the corner of the chamber. The plush carpet deadened some of the scraping noise the chair made as Harry dragged it across the floor toward the foot of the bed, but even that sound made Richard’s head start to ache.
“Ahh—” he said, lifting one hand to massage his temples. “No more noise and enough with the light. Can’t you just pull closed those other drapes for me?” He’d been so distracted after shutting the first set of curtains that he hadn’t even bothered with the second set.
Harry shook his head remorsefully. “I cannot. I’ve been sent by your mother to seek you.”
“Oh,” moaned Richard. “What does she want?”
At that, Harry snickered. “Not much. She just commands that you present yourself within the next half hour so that you may mingle with your guests.” He settled into his chair and draped one long leg over the other. With a laconic grin, he continued, “And, if you are able to make this concession for others, she’d like it if you at least managed to spend a little time with your bride-to-be. As it is your wedding weekend and all, the people who are coming to Braxton Manor do expect to see the two of you together.”
