The Unlikely Lady(92)
This elicited more wagging of tails.
Jane turned her attention back to the desk. There were three drawers on each side and one in the middle. She’d just take a quick peek inside each. “Please let it be here,” she whispered.
She slowly slid the middle drawer out first. More quills. A tray of sand. A seal and some wax. No letters. No paper at all.
She closed the drawer and pulled open another on the bottom right. A quick perusal of the large stack of important-looking papers inside told Jane it was mostly contracts and estate-related paperwork.
She pulled out the next drawer and the next. They were neatly arranged, but did not contain a letter from Harold Langford.
She chewed on her bottom lip. What if she didn’t find it? But then, what was she planning to do with it if she did find it? She took another deep breath. Be bold.
She pulled open the bottom drawer on the left. A box sat in the center of the drawer, full of what appeared to be … letters. Trembling, she pulled the box from the drawer and placed it on the desktop. The letters stood on their sides, stacked together.
Jane pulled out the first few. Missives from Aunt Mary, one or two from Lucy, one from Lord Berkeley. She slid them back into place and took out the next set. More from Aunt Mary, half a dozen from other friends, none from Harold Langford.
Jane scanned the room. Upton might return at any moment, or a servant might venture in to clean or something. She didn’t have time to rummage through all of the letters.
Something told her the one she was looking for wouldn’t be like the others, wouldn’t be with less important correspondence. Upton would do something special with it, because of what it meant to him. Using both hands, she lifted the entire group of letters, and set them carefully in a large stack on the desktop. Then, she peered into the bottom of the box.
A single letter was there. Underneath them all. Not stacked like the others. Hidden away. With a hand that continued to shake, she pulled out the lone letter. She unfolded it, holding her breath.
Harold Langford’s name was scrolled across the top with a date from nearly ten years ago. She slid it onto the desktop and expelled her pent-up breath.
She’d done it. She’d found it. Now she needed to get out of here.
Closing her eyes and briefly saying a prayer, just in case there was a heaven, Jane gathered up the large stack of letters, placed them back in the box, and replaced it in the drawer. She shut the drawer, grabbed the letter, and jumped to her feet.
The door to the room cracked open and Isabella Langford sauntered in.
The beautiful widow narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Miss Lowndes, explain yourself. What are you doing in my future husband’s study?”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Garrett bounded up the stairs to his town house and flung open the door. He’d sent Isabella a note earlier, asking her to meet him here. Unfortunately, he’d been detained at his solicitor’s office.
He didn’t slow as he made his way toward his study, the dogs jumping at his heels. “Cartwright, is Mrs. Langford in the study?”
“She is, sir.”
“Has she been waiting long?”
“Not very, sir. And, sir?” The butler cleared his throat.
Garrett stopped and turned to face him. “Yes?”
“Miss Lowndes just left.”
Garrett blinked. “Miss Lowndes was here?”
“Yes, sir. She came to have a look at the library again.”
“Ah, I trust you made her comfortable.”
“I did, sir. Tea and cakes were served immediately upon her arrival.”
Garrett had to smile. He was sorry he’d missed Jane, but it was probably for the best. What he had to say to Isabella needed to be said in private.
“Thank you, Cartwright. That will be all for now.”
Garrett continued his brisk pace down the corridor to the study, opened the door, and marched inside. Isabella sat on the settee, a cup of tea suspended in her hand. The moment she saw Garrett, she turned to face him. “There you are. I’ve been waiting.”
“No teacakes?”
“I never eat those things. They’re bad for my figure.”
They were quite good for Miss Lowndes’s figure. A devilish grin spread across his face. “I see.”
“Why was Jane Lowndes in this house when I arrived?” Isabella demanded.
Garrett managed to keep his voice steady. “Miss Lowndes is welcome to use my library at any time.”
“That will change once we’re married.”
“No it won’t.”
Isabella’s jaw tightened but her voice softened and she pretended to smile. “We can discuss it later, after the wedding.”
“There’s not going to be any wedding, Isabella.”