The Unlikely Lady(94)
This time, he ushered Jane into the blue salon with barely a lift of his haughty brow. Lucy came in moments later.
“Well.” Lucy rushed over and sat next to Jane on the settee. “What happened?”
Jane couldn’t hide her smile. “I just came from Garrett’s town house.”
“And?” Lucy searched her face.
“And I found it!”
Lucy clapped her hands with glee. “Let me see it.”
Jane tugged open the drawstring to her reticule and pulled out the crumpled letter. “I barely made it out of there,” she said in a rush, excitement making her words tumble over themselves. “Isabella came in and found me in the study.”
Lucy scrunched her nose as if she smelled something awful. “What was Isabella doing there?”
“She said she came to speak with her future husband. I wanted to retch. I made a quick excuse as to why I was standing behind his desk when she saw me and then I left immediately.”
Lucy covered her laughing mouth with her hand. “You did not. What did you say?”
Jane leaned in. “I told her I was playing a game of hide-and-seek with the dogs.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“Did she believe you?” Lucy’s eyes danced with mischief.
“What do I care? I slipped the letter into my reticule and left, but not before informing her that Garrett had told me I might have the use of his library whenever I like. I couldn’t resist.” She slapped her knee to punctuate her words. “That harlot.”
“That’s perfect. Did she have an apoplectic fit?”
“She gave me a stare that could turn water into ice. I believe she reminds me of Medusa.”
“She reminds me a great deal of Medusa. Though admittedly her hair is more fetching than snakes.” Lucy waved a hand in the air. “Enough about her. Show me the letter. Have you read it?”
“Not yet. I haven’t had a chance. I was so nervous. I’m still shaking.” Jane held out her trembling hand for her friend’s inspection.
“You did an excellent job. Mission accomplished. Now, let’s see the letter.”
Sitting side by side, the two unfolded the letter and both scanned the page. Lucy sucked in her breath. Jane gasped. They turned to look at each other.
“So sad,” Lucy said, shaking her head.
“It is sad, but I don’t believe for one moment that Harold Langford actually wrote this.” Jane jabbed a finger at the paper.
“I don’t either,” Lucy agreed. “But how would we prove such a thing?” She tapped her finger against her cheek.
“If I knew what Mrs. Langford’s handwriting looked like, I could compare the two. I’m certain she disguised it.”
A slow smile spread across Lucy’s face. “Aren’t you the expert in that particular field?”
Jane frowned. “Yes, but how can we get a writing sample from Isabella?”
Lucy snapped her fingers. “I have one!”
“What?”
“I have one. She wrote to thank me for my kindness at the house party.” Lucy rolled her eyes.
“Ugh. She did?”
“Yes. Obsequious, wasn’t it? I get that quite a lot now that I’m a duchess.”
“Where is her letter?” Jane asked frantically.
“I’ll be right back.” Lucy hurried out of the room while Jane struggled to remain calm. She would love to prove something Mrs. Langford had done wrong. Make her stand accountable for just one of her devious schemes.
Lucy returned waving the other letter in her hand. “Here it is.”
Jane took the two letters and hurried to the writing desk, where she flattened them side by side. She studied the writing of first one, then the other.
“Well?” Lucy prodded, impatiently tapping her slipper.
“Give me a moment.” Jane narrowed her eyes. “It’s definitely not Isabella’s handwriting on this letter from Harold.”
“But…?”
“Look, here, the line of the l is quite similar. The a also looks suspiciously like hers. She may have copied the words from letters from Harold, but she cannot entirely disguise her own penmanship.” Jane continued to study the letters intently. “The h. There’s an extra tail on the top. Just like hers.”
Lucy peered over Jane’s shoulder. “So you do think it’s a forgery?”
Jane lifted her gaze and pushed up her spectacles. “Yes. She forged this letter.”
Lucy pressed her lips together and crossed her arms over her chest. “That evil minx. How dare she try to play on my poor cousin’s sense of guilt?”
“Your cousin can take care of himself,” Jane replied. “But I refuse to allow her to get away with this.” Jane stood and straightened her shoulders. “I intend to do something about it.”