Miss Lacey's Love Letters (2 page)

"You look well today," Valeria complimented her.

"Do I?" Cassandra gently touched her cheek. "My excitement must have colored my face."

"Something has you excited?"

"Excited is an understatement. I'm positively elated!" Cassandra laid a gloved hand against her mouth, hiding her grin from view. "I've spoken about Mr. Ryland before, have I not?"

"Hmm. Yes. I am sure you've mentioned him once or twice." And that was an understatement as well. Mr. Ryland, whomever he was, was always the main topic of conversation.

"He's asked me to marry him!" Cassandra squeaked. "Can you believe it?"

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Valeria's voice was a bit dry, because her excitement was somewhat feigned.

"To be honest, Miss Woll, I was starting to worry. At three and twenty, I was starting to think I was beyond hope!"

Valeria tightened her lips and forced another smile. Because her friend was so happy, it did not seem like an appropriate time to mention their nine-year age gap, or the fact that Valeria, at her age, was
truly
beyond hope. However, despite their age difference, Valeria liked to think they looked the same age. She might have been well beyond the first blush of youth, but Valeria's face hadn't changed in the last decade. On the other hand, there were deep lines on Cassandra's forehead, likely the result of excessive eyebrow lifting.

"You should meet him, Miss Woll!" Cassandra squeaked excitedly. "He might not be the handsomest man in the world... far from it, actually, but he has a pleasant face and a friendly disposition. He's very kind and clever and witty, and...
oh
!" Cassandra threw back her head and heaved a dreamy sigh. "I think he will make a wonderful husband!"

"I am sure he will." Valeria's brows were pinched by concern, because her friend looked seconds away from swooning. "And I am sure you will be a wonderful wife."

"You think so?"

"Indeed." Another forced smile tipped her lips. "Mr. Ryland is a very lucky man."

"Oh, you're too kind! Now, we should turn our attention to you, Miss Woll. I am sure there is a man out there for you as well."

Valeria chuckled at the thought. "Let us
not
turn our attention to me."

"Whyever not?!"

"I am afraid that ship sailed long ago, Miss Prentiss. At my age, a husband is not something I expect to find."

"You are not
so
terribly old. I know a widower who might be looking for a second wife, and...
oh
! Mr. Ryland has a younger brother who might catch your interest."

"A younger
brother?" Valeria winced. "How old is Mr. Ryland?"

"Eight and twenty."

"And the younger brother would be... how old, exactly?"

"I think he is five and twenty, or thereabouts. And he is almost as handsome as
my
Mr. Ryland."

It didn't seem very promising, considering the fact that Cassandra had downplayed her Mr. Ryland's looks a moment ago. "I highly doubt a man of five and twenty would be interested in the likes of me."

"Nonsense! You look younger than you are. We need not tell him you are two and thirty, at least, not at the start. More than likely, he would think you and I were the same age."

"I would not want to deceive poor Mr. Ryland, nor do I have any interest in finding a husband."

"Nonsense!" It seemed to be Cassandra's favorite word, and when she said it, she sounded a bit like a mouse. "Every woman wants to find a husband."

"Valeria Woll certainly does
not.
I am perfectly content to stay with my aunt forever."

"Really?" Cassandra pouted at her. "Really and truly?"

"Really, truly, and absolutely, Now, might we move on to another subject?"

"Another subject altogether?" The pout stayed on Cassandra's lips. "I was hoping I could tell you more about Mr. Ryland!
My
Mr. Ryland, not the brother."

"You are more than welcome to do so," Valeria sighed. Her friend's high-pitched prattling brought her closer to understanding her aunt's opinion of her.

It was going to be a long afternoon.

Chapter Two

"Where's your smile, dear?" Lydia called over her shoulder. "We're about to go on another adventure!"

Valeria couldn't manage a smile, not even a false one. After spending the better part of the afternoon with Cassandra Prentiss, she felt as if the happiness had been sucked out of her. "I am afraid I do not share your enthusiasm."

"And why not? There are several rooms that we have yet to explore, and who knows what we might find! Does that not sound exciting?"

"I... suppose." Because she did not want to disappoint her aunt, Valeria opted for a less negative response. In truth, she did not care to unearth any more unexplored spaces, as she would likely be expected to clean them. "But... to be honest, the attic is a bit intimidating."

"Really, Valeria, your lack of adventurous spirit is astounding. As young as you are--"

"Oh, I'm hardly young!"

"As young as you are," Lydia repeated, "you could stand to have a little more backbone."

She followed her aunt to the foot of the staircase. Dark, narrow and possibly treacherous, it was the only way to access the house's top floor. "Are we really going up there?"

Lydia's eyes glowed wild with anticipation. "We are."

"Don't you think it might be dangerous? Those stairs should be condemned." Valeria's assessment was validated when her aunt ascended the first few steps, which creaked and popped beneath her weight.

"You can follow me, dear. If we happen upon any monsters, ghosts or ghouls, I will try to defend you."

"I'm not worried about ghouls, Lydia. I'm more worried about falling through the floor!" Valeria held her breath as she followed her aunt up the staircase.

"Are you alright back there?"

"Surviving, although it is unbelievably dark." Valeria tried to find a handrail, but there was nothing to grip. "I am amazed one of us hasn't fallen to our death."

"We've yet to reach the summit. Someone could still perish. Give it time."

"I do love how reassuring you are."

"And I love how you're so easy to tease."

When they reached the top, Valeria breathed an audible sigh of relief. Lydia crossed the room and peeled back the drapes, filtering a stream of light into their unfamiliar environs.

Valeria was surprised by how little there was to see. There was a bed at one end of the room, covered in blankets that had been seemingly devoured by vermin. At the foot of the bed was a chest that begged to be opened. The last piece of furniture was an empty shelf, on which there was an abandoned, well-used candle.

Valeria was the first to speak. "Well..."

"Well..." her aunt echoed her. "It isn't what I expected."

"It was a bit anticlimactic, wasn't it?"

Lydia answered with a disappointed nod. "But you realize we are likely the first ones to enter this room is almost twenty years?"

"Yes. Just us." As she stared at an enormous cobweb in the corner of the room, Valeria added, "and the spiders."

"Should we open the chest? It is easily the most intriguing thing in here."

"Is it locked?"

"I don't see a lock." Lydia approached the chest and tugged on the lid. When it opened, she said, "Not locked."

Valeria and her aunt stood shoulder-to-shoulder as they peered into the open chest.

There were letters, dozens of them. Lydia selected one at random, tore it from its envelope, and eagerly unfolded it.

"What are you doing?!" Valeria exclaimed.

"What does it look like I'm doing? It should be obvious."

"Those belonged to someone else! Out of respect, we should probably--"

"If the recipient of these letters did not want them to be read, they should not have left them behind," Lydia rationalized. "Are you not curious?"

"I... am." She had to be honest. "Very well. What does it say?"

Lydia read aloud. "
Dear Miss Lacey, I know I should not send you this letter, scandalous as it is, but I could not let you go without telling you exactly how I feel. I find it is much easier to express my feelings with a pen. In short, I am enamoured by you. Ever since we met, you are all I have been able to think about. Your
--"

"So it's a love letter?"

"So it would seem." Lydia was grinning as she studied the parchment. "The man who sent this must have been very bold indeed! Shall I continue?"

"I don't know. I feel it is a gross invasion of privacy."

Lydia ignored her niece's reservations and continued to read aloud. "
Your beautiful brown eyes linger in my mind, I am quite convinced they are the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. As bright as they are, I wonder if they have not stolen their radiance from the stars. You are such a lovely woman, Miss Lacey, the loveliest woman I have ever set eyes on. If I could have but one taste of your perfect, pink lips, I would be the luckiest man on earth."

"How long has he known Miss Lacey?" Valeria mused. "If their acquaintance is a new one, it seems awfully inappropriate to ask for a kiss."

"Scandalous indeed. Shame on you, Mr..." Lydia checked the end of the letter, identifying the author. "Shame on you, Noah Worthington!"

"Is this entire box filled with love letters?"

"I don't know." Lydia discarded the first letter and unfolded another. "
Dear Miss Lacey, In my dreams, I still think of our kiss. Your lips were unlike anything I have ever experienced, and it will be a lucky man who gets to kiss them for the rest of your life. I long to be that man. I would say your lips are like honey, but the comparison would not do them justice. I am sure your lips are sweeter than anything in this world."

"That sounds a bit exaggerated."

"Really? I think it sounds terribly romantic!"

"If I was Miss Lacey, I think I would be put off by Mr. Worthington's ardor."

"Dear, you need not be such a cynic. He's fallen in love with her. She was lucky to find a man who adored her so much." Lydia smiled as she read the next few sentences to herself. "You know, Henry was quite the romantic in his youth."

"Uncle Henry? Really?"

"Indeed. When we were just a bit younger than you, he used to write poetry. Not unlike Mr. Worthington, he would write odes to my eyes and stanzas about my silken skin. His eloquence would rival Lord Byron."

"Then that's all the more reason we should respect the privacy of poor Miss Lacey. Would you want someone to read your poetry from Uncle Henry? Miss Lacey, wherever she is... do you think she would want us reading her letters?"

"Henry's poems
should
be read. In fact, if you would like to have a gander..."

"Oh, pish. You aren't going to listen to me, are you? You might as well continue to read, because I know it would be impossible to convince you to abandon them."

Lydia kept reading, despite her niece's dissent. "
I keep singing your praises to anyone who will listen. When I mentioned your perfection to a close friend, he tried to tell me no one is perfect.
But you truly ARE perfect. In fact, you reach so far beyond the limits of perfection, you are truly too
good for this world. I feel lucky just to stand in your presence."

"Beyond the limits of perfection..." Lydia repeated with a sigh. "What a lovely sentiment."

"Really? It sounds a bit excessive to me. Perhaps it would have more of an affect on me if I was on the receiving end of such a compliment. Come to think of it, I am not sure I have ever been on the receiving end of a compliment.
Any
compliment."

"Really?
Never
?" Lydia's wrinkles deepened as her eyebrows sprang to her forehead.

"Never," Valeria insisted. "In particular, I have never been complimented by a gentleman... unless he was complimenting my wit or knowledge."

"Then we will have to compliment each other." Lydia gently laid a hand on her niece's arm. "Valeria, dear, you are a very pretty young woman."

"I'm hardly young," Valeria protested. "Or pretty."

"How quickly you belittle yourself! You should learn to accept a compliment when it is given."

Valeria sighed. "My apologies."

"You have such lovely hair. I always wanted dark hair. It looks so exotic." She gently touched one of the curled black tendrils that framed her niece's face. "And the smattering of freckles across your nose is really quite adorable!"

"Thank you, Lydia. I will graciously accept the compliment." As she stared at the letter in her aunt's hands, she wondered how she would react to such compliments if they were paid by a gentleman. Someone like Mr. Worthington. "As for you, Aunt Lydia, your eyes are as bright and blue as ever. Your hair is as pure and white as snow, like something you might see on an angel."

"Now that's doing it much too brown!" Lydia chuckled. "As for the letters..." She reached into the chest and scooped several more envelopes into her hands.

"You're really going to read them?"

"
All
of them." The grin on Lydia's lips was a bit devilish. "It looks as if I will have sufficient entertainment for the next few days. Would you care to join me?"

Chapter Three

Two days after discovering Miss Lacey's love letters, Lydia Langley continued to enjoy them. She and her niece were sitting on a bench in the barren garden, where remnants of rose bushes surrounded them. The dead bushes and brown shrubs were more than a bit depressing, but Lydia required fresh air. So did Valeria, whose throat still tickled from all the dusting she had been forced to do.

"Oh, listen to this one!" Lydia waved the yellowed parchment and waited for her niece's full attention. "
I cannot believe you are finally mine, and that you will be mine forever. How did I get so lucky? I must have been blessed by someone divine, someone who thought I might be worthy of you. I don't deserve you."

"It sounds like Mr. Worthington and Miss Lacey might be engaged," Valeria observed.

"So it does. I would like to think their courtship ended in marriage, but I have reason to believe otherwise."