“You didn’t stay that day for the Spring Fair,” said Simon. “You arrived, said hullo, and that was the last I saw of you, even when we heard the sad news.”
“I know.” She nodded, her gaze fixed on the way ahead. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to re-establish my acquaintance with the people I used to know here. I certainly didn’t want their sympathy. Too much like pity for my comfort.”
“But they’re people you grew up with, Tabby. They’re not strangers.”
“To you? No they’re not. But to me…” she paused as if looking for the right words. “To me, they represent my past. Something that is gone and can never be recaptured.”
Simon took his own time answering. “It must have been difficult when your papa passed away. My condolences on his death. I never had chance to express them. You were gone before the news came to Ridlington.” He lifted his hand and placed it over hers where it lay on his forearm.
“Then you know Papa died in London.” Her tone was calm. “He was there under his physician’s care. There was nothing anyone could do. I should have been there, I suppose, but I took a chance on coming down here. Of course, that was when he passed away.” She sighed. “The way of the world. Always doing the worst possible thing at the worst possible time.”
“So you vanished again, leaving us wondering if you had received a summons from some high ranking Government agency.”
He smiled as he gently referred to her previous adventures in Europe. Her task as an intelligence-gatherer, or as his sisters liked to refer to it—a spy—had intrigued them all last autumn.
She chuckled. “No. I’m hoping that phase of my life is over. I am retired from anything to do with the Government—of any nation.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Simon heaved an inner sigh of relief. “What are you going to do with the rest of your time, Lady Ellsmere?”
“The title is nominal, at best.” She sounded wry. “I can order an evening gown and have it delivered the next day. But I don’t have a residence to receive it.” A slight snort followed. “Stupid, isn’t it?”
Simon snugged her arm in a little closer to his body. “I know Worsley Hall has gone to some relative…a distant cousin?”
She nodded. “A man I had never heard of, let alone met. My home. Gone just like that with Papa’s death.”
“And that’s why you’re here now? To conclude those matters?”
“Mostly, yes.”
They walked on in silence for a little while, Simon as busy with his thoughts as he imagined her to be with hers.
“What shall you do, Tabby?” He brought them to a halt and looked down at her. “Worsley is no longer yours. You are a widow, and apparently there’s no home for you with the Ellsmeres.”
She stared ahead, but he saw her throat move as she swallowed.
“Can I help? Can the Ridlingtons do anything? I know Edmund and Rosaline would…”
“No, stop.” She turned and disengaged her arm from his. “I have a mission already, Simon.”
“I thought you said no more Government business for you.”
“Not that kind of mission.” She blew a breath out from between her lips. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, so I’ll just come right out with it.”
“Very well.” He wondered at her tone. Her face was expressionless, quietly attractive in repose and giving nothing away.
“I have been asked by the Diocese to review and assess the finances of St. Simon’s church.”
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WORD OF A LADY
Book 3 in the Six Pearls of Baron Ridlington Series
He was a little younger than she’d anticipated. Perhaps in his early forties, which was no great age, but given that he was the name behind a prestigious London publishing company, she’d been prepared for someone with more of an elderly appearance.
“Miss Smith?” He rose as she entered the parlour.
“Indeed.” She dropped him a polite curtsey. “Thank you for the honour you do us, Mr. Lesley. Coming all this way from London is very much appreciated, and quite a surprise.”
They sat, he in a large chair by the fireplace, she in a smaller one next to the well-worn sofa.
“After reading your…er…friend’s manuscript, I felt it incumbent upon me to visit in person. And to be honest, I have an acquaintance in the area, so it was a case of killing two birds with one happy stone.” He crossed his legs. “I suppose there is no chance of my meeting with Lady Corinth in person?”
“No sir, I’m afraid not.” Letitia kept her expression calm and her words simple. She was masquerading as the author’s friend and intended Mr. Lesley to completely accept her role. “Given the nature of the manuscript, I’m sure you can understand her desire to remain anonymous.”
“Indeed.” Lesley nodded. “Cytherean Tales has the potential to be a very popular volume, Miss Smith.”
Letitia’s heart jumped. “It does?”
“Yes.” He tapped his leather case which lay on the table next to him. “It is quite remarkable in its characterization and the heroines’ voices are strong and will easily attract and hold a reader’s attention.”
“Well,” Letitia cleared her throat. “I can assure you she will be very happy to hear that. Very happy indeed.”
“You realize however, that this is a very controversial volume?”
“I do.”
“You have read it yourself?” He raised an eyebrow. “I will admit to some surprise that a lady of your tender years has risked exposing herself to the material contained in this book.”
Letitia’s chin rose. “I believe Lady Corinth wrote much of the book with women in mind, Mr. Lesley.” She caught herself up. “At least that’s what she told me, several times, during its creation.”
“You astound me.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure that we will be able to market it as suitable for ladies.”
Unwilling to argue at this point, Letitia let that issue lie. “Do I take it then, that you are considering accepting Lady Corinth’s work, sir?”
“Indeed yes. I will be very happy to offer a publication contract to Lady Corinth. On most generous terms, I might add.”
Since she couldn’t stand up, shout, dance, whoop or do any of the things she would like to have done, she just smiled.
“There is one proviso…” He reached for his bag and withdrew the manuscript.
Her heart dropped to her boots. Here it comes. Nothing is ever that simple.
“I have made a copy and taken the liberty of marking up some areas that need greater clarification. I’ve also had a copy made of the document with the suggestions. It never hurts to have an extra manuscript for safety.”
“Would not an editor be the one to make those suggestions, sir? I believe I’ve heard that that’s how these matters are handled?”
“We do have editors with whom we consult; several are well-respected in their fields. However, given this particular volume and the nature of the content, I felt it better to retain it in our own offices. I’m sure you can appreciate my point of view.”
She watched him. He was not embarrassed, just cautious.