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 44

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.”

Her teacup clattered to the saucer. “Not going to be—” A questioning look spread across her face, part fear, part confusion. “Are you saying you’d prefer to marry by special license? That can easily be arranged. I know someone who—”