“Are you enjoying adequate rest? You are crabby, and it isn’t like you.”
Letty wrapped the embroidered towel around the teapot. “You own this establishment, my lord, you do not own me. Where I spend my hours of leisure is none of your concern.”
If anything, he looked more curious, or perhaps—confound the man—concerned. “What is so important about that cold, cramped, rented house, Letty, that you must return to it, day after day, when you don’t even sleep there anymore? Have you such fond memories of the place?”
By the convoluted rules of honor to which he held himself with her, Letty supposed his lordship would consider the question fair. At that moment, she considered hating him a fair response. She hunched over her cup of tea and swallowed back miserable memories.
Fairly put a hand on her arm. “I am sorry, sweetheart, very sorry. I don’t mean to be a beast. I must leave Town, and wanted to ask if you’d move here for the nonce. What was it you wanted to ask of me?”
Damn him and his charm, and why hadn’t he offered to rub her feet after that first night?
“You insulted me,” she said evenly, “with your reference to my memories at my present address. If their husbands said such cruel things to your sisters, you would be enraged on their behalves. I have no one to become enraged on my behalf, your lordship, but my feelings can still be hurt, though I am just a whore .”
He probably thought the women in his employ survived on his coin. Letty knew better: most of them survived on their rage.
“As far as I know, Letitia Banks,” he said carefully, “you take no coin for your favors, so whatever else you might be, you are not a prostitute. My words were thoughtless, and I do apologize.”
She still had ammunition, and fired it because he apologized too easily. “When you taunt me about the time I spent… in that front bedroom, you disappoint me.”
Saying that, and seeing the consternation crossing Fairly’s handsome features, eased her hurt.
“I am sorry,” he said again, picking up her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, then keeping their hands joined. “Is this why you keep the house, Letty? Because I might disappoint once too often?” He freshened her tea, using his free hand to stir in cream and sugar. “You want an insurance policy in case matters here don’t work out?”
Of course she did. “I am also responsible for Mrs. Newcomb, and this is hardly the type of establishment she’d fit into easily.”
He visibly relaxed at the notion of a Problem He Could Solve. “Would Mrs. Newcombe be willing to keep house here in Town for one of my relations?”
“She might.” She would, if she were prudent. To the extent prudence was another name for practical self-interest, Fanny Newcombe was quite prudent.
“One doesn’t get much more decent than Douglas Allen. He is the surviving brother of your former protector, but cut from entirely different cloth. He has a modest residence here in Town in a decent, quiet neighborhood. The wages won’t be lavish, but neither will the duties be extensive.”
Fanny wasn’t earning her wages, with no one to do for and not much of a house to keep. Then too, Letty’s fortunes could shift again on his lordship’s whim.
He split a raisin scone and buttered both halves, holding one up for Letty to nibble. She bit off a morsel and chewed, because a fallen woman allowed a man to feed her, in every sense, and because his very lack of pretension appealed to her.
“You, my lord, are charming, considerate, and everything that is pleasant, while you are getting your way.”
“And when I’m not?” He was rattled enough by her observation to take a bite of the scone from the same place she’d sampled.
“You have a mean streak, a ruthless streak, more accurately. Most of us do. Please, finish the scone.”
Fairly looked down as if surprised to find one in his hand. “Etienne has a way with them, though I could do without the
Letty wrapped the embroidered towel around the teapot. “You own this establishment, my lord, you do not own me. Where I spend my hours of leisure is none of your concern.”
If anything, he looked more curious, or perhaps—confound the man—concerned. “What is so important about that cold, cramped, rented house, Letty, that you must return to it, day after day, when you don’t even sleep there anymore? Have you such fond memories of the place?”
By the convoluted rules of honor to which he held himself with her, Letty supposed his lordship would consider the question fair. At that moment, she considered hating him a fair response. She hunched over her cup of tea and swallowed back miserable memories.
Fairly put a hand on her arm. “I am sorry, sweetheart, very sorry. I don’t mean to be a beast. I must leave Town, and wanted to ask if you’d move here for the nonce. What was it you wanted to ask of me?”
Damn him and his charm, and why hadn’t he offered to rub her feet after that first night?
“You insulted me,” she said evenly, “with your reference to my memories at my present address. If their husbands said such cruel things to your sisters, you would be enraged on their behalves. I have no one to become enraged on my behalf, your lordship, but my feelings can still be hurt, though I am just a whore .”
He probably thought the women in his employ survived on his coin. Letty knew better: most of them survived on their rage.
“As far as I know, Letitia Banks,” he said carefully, “you take no coin for your favors, so whatever else you might be, you are not a prostitute. My words were thoughtless, and I do apologize.”
She still had ammunition, and fired it because he apologized too easily. “When you taunt me about the time I spent… in that front bedroom, you disappoint me.”
Saying that, and seeing the consternation crossing Fairly’s handsome features, eased her hurt.
“I am sorry,” he said again, picking up her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, then keeping their hands joined. “Is this why you keep the house, Letty? Because I might disappoint once too often?” He freshened her tea, using his free hand to stir in cream and sugar. “You want an insurance policy in case matters here don’t work out?”
Of course she did. “I am also responsible for Mrs. Newcomb, and this is hardly the type of establishment she’d fit into easily.”
He visibly relaxed at the notion of a Problem He Could Solve. “Would Mrs. Newcombe be willing to keep house here in Town for one of my relations?”
“She might.” She would, if she were prudent. To the extent prudence was another name for practical self-interest, Fanny Newcombe was quite prudent.
“One doesn’t get much more decent than Douglas Allen. He is the surviving brother of your former protector, but cut from entirely different cloth. He has a modest residence here in Town in a decent, quiet neighborhood. The wages won’t be lavish, but neither will the duties be extensive.”
Fanny wasn’t earning her wages, with no one to do for and not much of a house to keep. Then too, Letty’s fortunes could shift again on his lordship’s whim.
He split a raisin scone and buttered both halves, holding one up for Letty to nibble. She bit off a morsel and chewed, because a fallen woman allowed a man to feed her, in every sense, and because his very lack of pretension appealed to her.
“You, my lord, are charming, considerate, and everything that is pleasant, while you are getting your way.”
“And when I’m not?” He was rattled enough by her observation to take a bite of the scone from the same place she’d sampled.
“You have a mean streak, a ruthless streak, more accurately. Most of us do. Please, finish the scone.”
Fairly looked down as if surprised to find one in his hand. “Etienne has a way with them, though I could do without the
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