CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHT – IS IT THE TRUTH?

Outside, the night air was cool on her flushed cheeks. Charlotte walked through the quiet streets, her mind awhirl. She'd defended Richard passionately, believed every word she'd said. But in the echoing silence, Eliza's accusations crept back in. The sapphire necklace, the bedchamber visits - had she been too quick to dismiss them? Was she, like Eliza, seeing only what she wanted to see? She reached her cottage and sank onto the bed, her body aching from work and her heart from uncertainty. On her bedside table, a sealed letter from Richard lay untouched. He'd respected her wish for space, communicating only through these letters which she couldn't bring herself to open. Now, with trembling fingers, she broke the seal: My dearest Charlotte, I pray this letter finds you well. The manor feels colder without your presence, yet I understand your need for distance. I've been thinking of Eliza, of my failings. I visited her family. They're trying to get her help, real help this time. I