A Christmas Match (Landon House #4) - Rose Pearson Page 0,61

myself and you, Lady Charity. I do not begrudge him that, for I have caused him great pain. And yet, despite that, he has decided to –”

“I will interrupt you, Lady Norwich, before you can speak further untruths.” Charity shifted slightly in her chair, looking at the young lady with a steady gaze and seeing the color begin to drain from Lady Norwich’s cheeks. “I do not and will not accept any words from you in this regard. There is nothing that you can say that I will believe. Lord Hosmer has done all he can to separate himself from you and from the past grievances and hurts that he has endured. Everything that he has said to me, I believe. I trust him and his words. Therefore, I must confess that whatever it is you say, I cannot help but ignore. I will not believe it, Lady Norwich, for your words mean nothing to me.”

Silence filled the room for some minutes after Charity had finished speaking. Lady Hayward’s expression was one of pride – she was clearly delighted with all that Charity had said and willing to stand directly by her side, should it be required of her. The words themselves, Charity realized, were all quite true. She did trust Lord Hosmer. To have allowed such doubts into her mind had been quite foolish, for it was now clear that Lady Norwich was, for whatever reason, attempting to manipulate her into stepping away from Lord Hosmer, in order that she herself might then move into Charity’s place. Charity was not about to allow her to do so.

“I think you should show Lady Charity the letter which was sent to you, only this morning,” Lady Dewsbury said quietly, as Lady Norwich suddenly began to nod, her fingers feverishly raking around her reticule as she looked for the item in question. “That, perhaps, will make her believe what you say.”

Charity frowned and glanced towards Lady Hayward, who gave a small shake of her head. It was a clear indication that she ought not to believe this either, but a letter, however, was a good deal more important than mere hearsay. Lady Norwich finally pulled out a folded piece of paper and, with a look of triumph, handed it to Charity, who chose, instead, to simply place it on the table between herself and Lady Norwich rather than opening it to read.

“Whatever are you doing, Lady Charity?” Lady Dewsbury exclaimed, as Charity turned her gaze towards the lady. “This is proof that what my daughter says is quite true.”

“I shall not accept it either,” Charity replied, steadily. “I do not know whether or not Lord Hosmer has written this to you, Lady Norwich, save for your word.”

“And,” Lady Norwich interrupted, a gleam in her eye, “by his signature and his seal, which you will find both of kept within the letter.”

For a moment, a stab of doubt pushed its way into Charity’s heart, but she tossed it aside with an effort.

“I do not wish to read it.”

“Then I shall!” Lady Dewsbury rose from her chair in a flurry of skirts, making her way across towards Charity and snatching up the letter. Charity was so caught up in this that she did not notice the butler enter and speak quietly to Lady Hayward. Nor did she see the lady nod and reply to the butler, who then left the room on hasty feet. Rather, she watched as Lady Dewsbury shook out the letter and, as though she were about to make a great speech, cleared her throat gently, looked meaningfully towards Charity and then began.

“This letter reads, ‘My dearest lady, I cannot help but allow my thoughts to return to you. Many times they have done so and I now permit them to consider you whenever they wish. I have struggled with our parting, have found myself lost without your presence and your company. Tell me that you will return to me soon so that I might no longer feel such great torment within my heart!’” Lady Dewsbury turned the paper around and, with a confident smile on her face, thrust it in Charity’s direction. “And there, Lady Charity, you will see his signature and his seal.”

Charity looked unwillingly at the letter, seeing the signature of Lord Hosmer as well as the small wax seal that had been pressed beside it, as though to assure the reader that it was from him and could not be mistaken as to be from any other.