December 9th, 1808
Okehampton, Devonshire
Reid waylaid Letty in the corridor outside the parlor the next morning. “How are you? How do you feel?”
“Very well. And you?”
“No, I mean . . .” He lowered his voice. “Are you sore?”
I am heart-sore. But that wasn’t what he meant. “No.”
He nodded his relief, and shuffled his feet in an un-Icarus-like manner. “Letty . . . do you have to leave for London tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“But if you’re taking yourself off the Marriage Mart, then there’s no reason—”
“I still have to return before I’m missed. I owe it to my family not to distress them. And if Mrs. Sitwell thinks she’s lost me she’ll be beside herself.”
Reid accepted this with another nod, and shuffled his feet and seemed about to say something more—and then he turned and opened the door to the parlor. The waiter was laying out breakfast.
Houghton arrived, bringing Ajax, and they sat down to eat. Letty had little appetite. Melancholy had taken up residence in her chest and she felt a disconcerting inclination to cry. Determinedly, she buttered a piece of toast and made conversation with Sergeant Houghton. The sergeant was unrecognizable as the bearded, gaunt, filthy crossing-sweeper of two and a half weeks ago. She thought even his own sister wouldn’t recognize him. This is who he’s meant to be. Confident, alert, good-humored.
Reid had altered almost past recognition, too. He was no longer the man she’d met at the Hammonds’ ball. The strain and the haggard exhaustion were gone, the tension and the grimness. He looked ten years younger.
Ten years younger, yes, but Reid was in an odd mood this morning, his mind not on his food or the conversation. He was distracted, fidgeting with his cutlery, poking his breakfast around the plate, shifting in his seat as if barely restraining himself from rushing off somewhere. “Do you have a middle name?” he asked abruptly, when Letty was buttering her second piece of toast.
She glanced up. “Who? Me, or Sergeant Houghton?”
Reid flushed beneath his tan. “Um, both of you.”
Letty and Houghton exchanged a glance. The sergeant shrugged. “John.”
“Louisa.”
They both looked at Reid. “Mine’s John, too,” he said, and then he bent his attention to his food, pushing it around the plate again.
Houghton and Letty exchanged another glance. Houghton shrugged, and embarked on his third egg.
Letty finished her toast slowly, trying to ignore the deep, dark ache of her love for Reid. She stole a look at his face, noting the hard planes, the stark angles, the strong bones. An intensely masculine face—and yet also beautiful. And even more beautiful than his face were his hands.
She gazed at Reid’s hands—lean and strong and tanned—and the deep, dark, hopeless love grew until it was almost impossible to breathe.
Reid pushed back his chair. “I need to go to Exeter today. Urgent business. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Tonight, I hope—but I may be delayed until tomorrow.”
The words jerked Letty from her melancholy. She stared at him, her lips parting in silent protest. Don’t go, please.
Houghton half-rose. “Shall I come, sir?” Ajax half-rose, too, on the rug by the fire, ears pricked, hope blatant on his black-and-tan face.
Reid shook his head. “It’s nothing to do with our business. I’d be much obliged if you’d stay here and look out for Miss Trentham.”
“Of course, sir.”
Reid came around the table and took Letty’s hands, clasping them in his. “I’m coming back,” he said, and she heard the note of truth in his voice. “If not tonight, then definitely tomorrow. Promise me you won’t leave for London before I return.”
Letty managed not to clutch at his hands, managed to smile at him and say in a perfectly normal voice, “Of course I promise.”
“Thank you.” Reid released her hands and strode to the door. Ajax got there at the same time he did, almost falling over himself in his eagerness. “No, scamp, you stay here.” Reid patted the pup, tugged his ears gently, and strode from the room. The door shut firmly behind him.
Ajax sat down and whimpered.
Letty looked at Houghton. “What’s put him in such a pother?”
Houghton shrugged, and shook his head.
Reid didn’t return that evening, or the next morning. Letty grew as jittery as Reid had been. She couldn’t sit still, couldn’t embroider, couldn’t read. She fidgeted with her shawl, with her cuffs, with the cord of the blind in the parlor. Ajax caught her mood, and took to following her anxiously and whining whenever he caught her eye. “This is ridiculous!” she told him. “Let’s go for a walk.”
But when they returned, Reid still wasn’t back. The waiter set the table for luncheon. Letty and Houghton were taking their seats when rapid footsteps sounded in the corridor. Ajax sat up, his ears pricked. Letty’s heart gave a little kick in her chest. The door opened and Reid strode in.
Ajax uttered a yelp, and bounded to greet him.
“Hello, scamp. Yes, I’m delighted to see you, too. No, don’t scratch my boots, please.” Reid gave the pup a hearty rub.
“Excellent timing, sir,” Houghton said, a grin splitting his face. “We had them lay a place for you.”
Letty stared down at her plate. It was that, or devour Reid with her eyes.
“Good. I’m starved!” Reid pulled out his chair and sat.
Letty lifted her gaze to him. Dark hair, tanned skin, high cheekbones. God, he was beautiful.
“Did your business go well?” she asked, as Reid peeled off his gloves.
Reid glanced at her, and the impact of his silver eyes almost took her breath away. “It took a little longer than I’d thought, but yes, it went well. Very well.”
Reid’s trip to Exeter might have gone well, but he was no less restless than he’d been yesterday morning. He reminded Letty of a child waiting for Christmas. He ate fast, as if impatient to get to whatever came next.
Houghton picked up on Reid’s edginess. He caught Letty’s eye and gave her a What’s going on? look.
Letty shook her head. She pushed her food around her plate. Her appetite had deserted her. What she most wanted to do was cry. Instead, painstakingly, she forced herself to eat a portion of cold chicken.
When she’d finished, Letty folded her napkin and laid it beside her plate. She stared at the tablecloth, rather than Reid’s face. “Icarus, I must leave today.”
“I know,” he said. “We can make it as far as Exeter tonight. I just . . . I need to speak with you privately first.”
Letty glanced at him. “With me?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll take Ajax outside.” Houghton pushed back his chair and stood.
Ajax, who’d been dozing by the fire, woke with a jerk and scrambled to his feet. “Come along, m’ boy,” the sergeant said. “Let’s get you some fresh air.”
The door closed behind Houghton and the pup.
Reid stood and crossed to the fireplace. From outside came the faint rattle of carriage wheels.
“What is it, Icarus?”
Reid didn’t answer. He shoved a hand through his hair, tugged twice at his neckcloth, and paced to the window and then back to the fireplace. He was so jittery he seemed ready to burst out of his skin.
Letty stared at him in worry. “Icarus, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” He took a step towards her. “Letty—”
The door swung open. Bernard Trentham strode into the room. His outraged glare went from her to Reid and back to her again. “Letitia!”