Page 7 of Nobody’s Angel (World of de Wolfe Pack #5)

She knew exactly who Brynne was. Oh, she might not know his real name or his family history, but she knew him , the kind, protective, intelligent man she’d loved since she was a little girl.

She felt his gaze on her back as she left the room.

I wish you loved me, Brynne.

She knew he didn’t, nor would he ever allow himself to fall in love with her.

Sighing, she stepped into her bedchamber and quietly closed the door. Frances had assigned one of the younger maids to attend her and the girl was standing beside the fireplace, patiently awaiting her arrival.

They made quick introductions and were soon chatting amiably. Nell was a young, sturdily built brunette who was excited to be charged with her personal care. This was her first time serving as a lady’s maid.

They continued to chat while Lettie undressed herself and Nell set out her nightclothes on the neatly made bed.

A fire had already been lit to ward off the chill in the room, but it was still cold enough that Lettie hastily donned her nightgown and woolen robe, then moved to sit beside the fire while she brushed her hair before braiding it.

“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 that he was 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?”

He looked as though he had, for his eyes were dark and clear, and his features did not appear strained. His dark hair was damp from washing and he’d shaved. The appealing scent of maleness and lather mingled with the aroma of the various foods set out before them.

His clothes, as always, were dark, elegantly cut, and lacking in frills.

She loved the way he looked.

Loved the way his broad shoulders filled out his jacket. His legs were long and muscled, and his stomach trim. He walked with a confident swagger, like a general used to taking command. “You’re staring at me, Lettie.”

She blushed and turned away, pretending to inspect the delights set out for breakfast. “I… um, was… merely… um, inspecting you to be sure you were properly dressed for today’s… um, excursions.”

He moved to stand beside her, leaning his elbow on the sideboard as he looked down at her from his impressive height. “What excursions?”

He stood dangerously close.

Not that she was in any danger. He was the one who needed to be on alert to protect himself from her wanton impulses.

Would he notice if she kissed his neck?

Surely he wouldn’t mind if she nibbled along its thick, corded muscles instead of munching on the kippers that looked quite dead on the serving plate?

“Lettie? Stop fidgeting and tell me what you have in mind.”

She couldn’t help but fidget. He was standing so close, she felt the heat of his body and ached to nestle against his hard chest. He arched an eyebrow and frowned at her in that seductively stern way that never failed to melt her heart and render her utterly mindless.

And what was she to tell him? She had no idea where they should go because Jeremiah hadn’t seen fit to help her out last night.

She closed her eyes and blurted the first thing that sprang to mind. “Battlefield.” She opened her eyes and smiled at him.

He didn’t smile back. “You realize it is nothing more than an empty field. The bodies have long since been removed and all signs of blood and battle cleared away by nature’s passage of time.”

“I do realize that, which is why… um, immediately after we inspect the battlefield, we’re going…

um, to the town hall to look at the relics and read the historical accounts stored there commemorating the battle of Towton.

” There! That made sense, didn’t it? “Pay particular attention to all mentions of wolves or roses.”

“Where’s Frances? Has she come downstairs yet?”

At that moment, a butler strode in. “Lady Frances always takes her breakfast in her bedchamber, but she bid me to see to your comforts. Please help yourselves to all that Cook has prepared. We usually serve coffee, but tea and cocoa are also available. You need only ask.”

“Coffee’s good for me,” Brynne said, reaching for a plate and handing it to Lettie.

He waited for her to start serving herself and followed after her, systematically piling the breakfast offerings onto his plate. He scooped a large spoonful of eggs, sausages, and everything else contained in each of the twelve salvers.

She supposed it took a good appetite to maintain his firmly toned and muscled body. He was a big man, after all.

She took two small kippers, two small sausages, and one poached egg. He glanced at her plate and laughed gently. “That would keep me alive for about five minutes.”

She stared at his plate. “And that,” she said with an equally affectionate laugh, “would put me into my grave in less than five minutes.”

They settled across from each other because that was Brynne’s way, to keep physically distant from her whenever possible. They said nothing to each other while the butler served their coffee.

But once she was alone with Brynne, she felt as though she ought to be talking. “What do you think of today’s plan?”

“It’s a fine one, Lettie.” He gazed at her with remarkable tenderness. “Don’t be too disappointed if nothing comes of it.”