A Lady's Guide to Courtship

XXX. A Lady's Guide to Liars

Dearest William,

Mayhap you would wish to go with friends on your quest to go around the entire Town.

I am aware that you are friends with the Everards. Mayhap they would be delighted to accompany you.

Your friend,

Lady Weis

*****

What awaited him in the parlour was not what he had expected at all.

Although Morris did warn him he might be surprised, the fact still remained that he was facing not merely someone who did not belong to his station, but a servant.

The young woman came to her feet the very moment he strode into the parlour and bowed her head. She was dressed very plainly. She looked composed and neat.

"Morris has informed me that you have proof," he said, walking closer, desiring no time for small talks.

The woman nodded.

He frowned. She had dark hair, her face pale and entirely common. She was not extraordinarily beautiful as he had imagined, but he had never truly expected her to be. What he expected her was to be true and at that moment, Wakefield could not feel it.

When she lifted her eyes to meet his, he found brown eyes staring at him with longing. "Yes," was her whispered reply.

Wakefield did not speak and waited for her to say more. Instead she turned and bent to pick a box from the floor.

His heart began to pound against his chest as she held out her arms, offering the box to him.

He took it from her and opened it. Inside were the letters he had penned himself, letters he had sent to Lady Weis.

He swallowed. He did not wish for them to be real, but they were. He recognized the broken wax seals he had stamped himself.

She let out a shaky breath, drawing his attention back at her. "Now you must realize why I never wanted you to know who I am."

"Because you are a servant?" he asked in a sardonic tone. "Do you think me that shallow?"

She shook her head. "No, of course not. You have told me you would accept me in whatever form I may be—that you would not care if I am without limbs or, as you have so luckily and innocently guessed, a servant." Her eyes met his. "It is merely because I think myself too low." Her eyes went to the letters in the box. "The things you have talked about were all true, yet the things I have told you were mere lies—fantasies of a woman confined in a life filled with limitations."

His jaw tightened. He did not know why but he could not believe her. He refused to. "If you are truly her, then please tell me how you acquired the letters I sent. Surely you know how they are being delivered."

He carefully watched her every move, even the movement of her throat as she swallowed. "A cousin of mine works for Lord Theobald in his Buford estate. She was the one who had been delivering the letters to where I work."

"And where do you work?"

She hesitated for a moment before she replied, "Lady Gedge."

A very long silence reigned between them as Wakefield considered her words. "You claim to be Lady Weis and yet you tell me that everything you have said in the letters were naught but lies."

She nodded. "I am sorry, my lord. I wish you would forgive me. I came here for my conscience has been nagging me." She clasped her hands tightly in front of her. "I do not expect that you forgive me, nor profess the same love you have said in your letters. I no longer wish for anything but to be free of my conscience."