Lucy worried the end of her napkin. “We hoped it might serve to flush out the truth. We thought if you both believed the other had feelings, it might help you to confess to your own.”
Jane was convinced her eyes were wild. She felt wild. “Confess to my own? What in heaven’s name made you think I had my own?”
“You must admit that you and Garrett make a fine-looking couple.”
“We can barely stand to be in the same room with each other!”
“You were doing an admirable job of it that night in the upstairs drawing room. And everyone saw how enchanting you were dancing together the night of the wedding.”
The memory of that dance felt like a punch to her middle. Jane clenched her jaw. “Lucy, I swear, if I didn’t know you were the biggest meddler in the entire kingdom, I’d warn you right now to run far and fast. It would only be sporting to give you a head start.”
Lucy bit her lip again. “But because you do know I’m the biggest meddler in the entire kingdom? Oh, don’t hate me, Janie, please.”
“I’m absolutely incensed. Truly. But I have to admit, it explains a great deal.” She took a deep breath, then another one. “You are known for your schemes and if I were to remain angry with you, I might as well be angry with the sky for being blue.”
Lucy nodded so rapidly her black curls bounced. “That is true.”
“You’re not going to get out of it that easily, Lucy. Tell me, what else did you do? Who else was involved in this little scheme of yours?”
“What makes you think anyone else was involved?” Lucy tossed her napkin back on the tea tray.
“You always involve others in your schemes. I know because I’m usually one of them.”
Lucy’s eyes twitched back and forth.
“Lucy?” Again, Jane dragged out the word.
“Very well, in addition to Cass and myself, Owen Monroe and Daphne Swift were involved.”
“Owen and Daphne?” Jane breathed. “What was their involvement?”
Lucy drummed her fingers against the wooden arm of her chair. “Owen was to make Garrett jealous by paying special attention to you and Daphne was to keep Mrs. Langford occupied when necessary.”
Jane sat stunned. Her mouth fell open. She felt as if Lucy had hit her over the head with an iron poker. She’d been duped. Duped by the best of them, Lucy Hunt. “So that’s why Owen was constantly appearing out of nowhere and Daphne was always speaking with Mrs. Langford.”
Lucy’s lips twisted. “Of course, they were forced to improvise upon occasion, like the time they jumped in the rowboat together at the lake so that you would be forced to ride with Garrett. Too bad they couldn’t have dragged Mrs. Langford off with them.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.” Jane rubbed her forehead. The devil’s own headache was forming behind her right eye. “Tell me one more thing. Have you admitted this subterfuge to Upton?”
Lucy tugged at the neck of her gown. “Actually, Derek is on his way to do that as we speak.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Garrett tossed back his third brandy. Brooks’s was quiet this afternoon. He’d holed up in a club chair in a corner and ordered drink after drink. He’d been attempting to read the paper but he’d been looking at the same paragraph since he’d arrived. He was preoccupied, preoccupied by Isabella Langford and what she’d shown him.
She’d left the drawing room earlier and returned a few minutes later holding a letter.
A letter from Harold.
As soon as he’d seen his friend’s familiar bold scroll on the parchment, an ache formed in Garrett’s chest. It was as if the bullet that had torn through his shoulder ten years ago was an open wound again.
Isabella cleared her throat and handed him the letter. “This is addressed to you.”
“Me?” Garrett’s heart jackknifed in his chest. “How could that be?” He squinted at the date on the top. Years ago, when they’d been together in Spain.
Garrett searched Isabella’s face. “Why am I just now seeing this?”
“Harold wrote it to you, but he sent it to me,” she replied softly. “He asked me to give it to you in the event that he…” Her gaze dropped.
“Have you read it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Garrett made his way to the large window at the front of the drawing room. He took a deep breath and bent his head toward the letter. His eyes scanned the page.
Upton,
If you are reading this, the worst has happened. We’ve shared many awful days together, my friend, and there’s no one else I’d rather die next to. You’re a good patriot, a good soldier, and a good man. If you find your way home, please take care of Isabella and the children. That is my dying wish. I could think of no better man to be in my stead. I must know that my family is taken care of. Always. They mean everything to me. I know you will do right by them. You have my eternal thanks.