Chapter Fifty-One
Letty’s mouth fell open. She stood hastily. “Bernard?”
Bernard closed the door with a suspicion of a slam. “How dare you disgrace us like this? You have brought shame upon our family! Your behavior—”
“Good afternoon, Trentham,” Reid said politely.
Bernard rounded on him. “You!” he spat. “You corrupt, amoral—”
“How did you find us?” Reid asked.
“You may well ask!” Bernard cried wrathfully. He bristled like an enraged tomcat—his tufty eyebrows bristled, his wispy hair bristled, his shirt-points and neckcloth and coat-tails bristled. Even the tassels of his Hessians seemed to bristle. He snatched a crumpled letter from his pocket. “Letitia, in her depravity—”
Reid plucked the letter from Bernard’s fingers. He glanced at its direction. “Mrs. Sitwell?”
“My chaperone in
