Page 13 of Nobody's Angel
“Will ye be needing anything else, Lady Letitia?” Nell asked once she’d finished gathering up the clothes worn on the trip from Beresford Hall to Wrexham. The gowns she’d worn had gathered dust that needed to be brushed clean of the roadway dirt. A good airing and then ironing should restore them good as new.
Her stockings and undergarments needed to be washed. In truth, Lettie usually attended to most of these chores herself and didn’t have much need for a maid, but Nell was a cheerful girl and Lettie definitely needed cheering at the moment.
“No, Nell. Nothing more for tonight.” She smiled at the girl. “And please call me Lettie. Letitia sounds so formal. Perhaps I shall be Lady Letitia when I turn sixty. Does that suit you?”
Nell nodded. “Lady Lettie does sound better. It’s a name that brings to mind a strong, spirited young woman with lots of determination. Yes, I like it very much. It suits you.”
“Thank you, Nell.”
The girl bobbed a curtsy and then left.
Lettie stood in place for a long moment, feeling rather small in this large, pleasantly decorated room that was decidedly feminine. The wallpaper was of a delicate, meadow flowers design, a mix of pale yellows and golds, pinks and reds, with an occasional blue thrown in. The drapes were a thick, gold silk.
She climbed into the large bed that was warm and comfortable, for Nell had placed a warming brick at the foot of it to keep her toes warm. Despite the pleasant heat of her sheets now tucked about her, she gasped as a shiver suddenly tore through her.
It wasn’t from the cold, but about Brynne. Three days, and then he would be gone.
She shivered again, worried that the visions she had seen today boded ill for him. Would he be riding off to his death?
No! He’d survived war, and he was strong and clever.
She fluffed her pillows with more vehemence than necessary and drew the blanket up to her neck so that it covered all but her head. The images of wolves, roses, and battlefields continued to clutter her thoughts. “Jeremiah, I need to understand what’s happening. Where do I start?”
Nothing.
“Jeremiah,” she called out, this time louder.
No response. He wasn’t here.
This was often his way, to leave clues that overset her and then fly off, not to be seen for months at a time. Apparently, he was a very busy guardian angel and had little time to spare for each of his charges. He always complained about how much of his valuable time she and Eugenia took up because they always seemed to need his help.
He thought that she and Eugenia were remarkably dense and couldn’t solve even the most trivial matters.
None of his other charges had a problem with the advice he gave them, or so he claimed. Ha! A fib if she ever heard one.
Did angels tell fibs?
Because angels weren’t perfect. And no matter what Jeremiah claimed, it was obvious thathewas the problem. Lettie couldn’t imagine anyone understanding his riddles.Ever.
Finally succumbing to exhaustion, she slept soundly through the night and was well rested by the time the household began to stir shortly after dawn the next morning. Nell knocked lightly at her door around eight o’clock and quietly stepped in to draw back the curtains. Sunshine spilled in through the window. “Did you sleep well, Lady Lettie?”
“Yes, Nell. I did.” She slipped out of bed and hurried to the window to peer at the sky. It was a vivid blue, except for an occasional patch of soft, white clouds that sailed by. However, it was a blustery day. The trees were noticeably swaying in the stiff breeze, and when Lettie put her hand to the window glass, she had to draw it away quickly.
It was bitterly cold.
“The sun will warm up the day,” she muttered, ever hopeful. She and Brynne had work to do and she didn’t wish to be trudging about over icy roads.
She quickly washed her hair and scrubbed her body with the lavender-scented soap she’d brought with her from Beresford Hall, and then sat beside the fire Nell had started in the hearth in order to help her wet hair to dry faster.
When it was almost dry, she styled it in her usual bun.
Knowing the day would be cold and they’d be spending time outdoors, she donned her warmest gown, an amber-colored, merino wool that settled softly against her skin. She put on woolen stockings to match her gown and then slipped her feet into her sturdiest walking shoes.
After giving herself a quick inspection in the mirror, she hurried downstairs to the breakfast room. Since she was the first to arrive, she took her time perusing the silver trays set out on the sideboard. Eggs. Kippers.Ooh, sausages.
“Good morning, Lettie.” The rich timbre of Brynne’s voice drifted in from the doorway.
She turned from the sideboard and smiled at him as he approached. He looked even more delicious than those lovely sausages. “Did you sleep well, Brynne?”
