Page 35 of To Woo a Wicked Widow

“I would be delighted, my lady. How fortunate for me to have come upon your party.”

“Indeed. Fortunate.” The lady fidgeted with her reticule. “Will you take a seat—?”

“Thank you.” He turned toward Brack and his sister. “May I wait upon you, Lady Georgina?” When she nodded, he moved to the nearest end of the table and assisted her with her seat. One irresistible glance back told him his lady had not expected that maneuver.

She stood staring at him, her brows dipped in a puzzled frown. After a moment she seemed to shake herself and took a seat halfway along the table beside Lady John.

So far, so good.

“You have a splendid day for your outing, Lady Georgina.” Nash nodded encouragingly, bringing a blush to the young widow’s cheeks and a small smile to her lips. She seemed too young to have had a husband, although he’d learned the tragic circumstances of her marriage from her brother over brandy last night. The lady deserved better from her father, and under other circumstances Nash might seriously have considered courting her. She seemed sweet and companionable. Excellent qualities in a wife.

But the Earl of Grafton’s grip tightened on him the closer they drew to November. And truth to tell, after last night’s amorous entanglement, he had set his heart on conquering Lady Cavendish. Her scandalous proposition had startled him. Not the offer most ladies would make, but he shouldn’t underestimate his “wicked widow.” The game was on between them, though she didn’t know it. How long before he could persuade her to accept him? His body prayed for sooner rather than later.

“It is indeed lovely, my lord.” Lady Georgina’s merry voice broke into his thoughts. “I am quite looking forward to seeing the sights of your village. I had heard of The Bull before. It has quite a history, does it not?” She gazed around, avidly taking in the rustic half-timbered, half-whitewashed walls hung with gleaming coats of arms and ancient weaponry.

“Indeed it does, my lady.” Nash spoke in a clear voice designed to carry down the table. Lady Cavendish glanced their way and he relaxed in his seat. “In the Middle Ages Wrotham acted as a stop on the Pilgrims’ Way.”

“The Pilgrims’ Way?” Georgina’s glass-green eyes sparkled. “I’ve heard of The Pilgrim’s Progress, my lord. Are they similar?”

He chuckled. “Not exactly, my lady.” Nash searched her face but couldn’t tell if she spoke truthfully or if the young minx had decided to flirt with him. “They both had to do with a religious journey, however. The Pilgrims’ Way was the route that stretched over a hundred miles from Winchester to Canterbury that many pilgrims took when traveling to the cathedral. A perilous journey, with many a soul lost on its way there.”

“As dangerous as that?” the lady whispered and inclined her head closer.

Definitely flirting. He might well enjoy this.

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Nash leaned toward her, peering intently into her eyes, which sparkled with mischief. What had brought about this change in her? What the devil was she up to? Could he believe she had developed a tendre for him overnight? He pulled himself back into the conversation. “Although I daresay Wrotham provided a safe haven for them if they made it this far.”

“I am convinced your ancestors would have made sure of it, my lord.” Her smile broadened and she laid her hand on his arm. “If they were anything like you.”

Lord, what on earth had he started? Perhaps something a bit more gruesome would cool the chit’s interest a trifle.

“Did you know Wrotham has also been the haunt of kings? In fact, the story goes that King Henry VIII was in residence here when he received word that Anne Boleyn had been executed for treason.” He intoned solemnly. “The next day he betrothed himself to Jane Seymour.”

“Oh, my!” Lady Georgina jerked upright, her eyes growing big and round. She clutched his arm. “How horrible.”

“King Henry wasted no time, apparently. He wanted an heir and one disappointed him at their peril.” Nash chuckled at Georgina’s shudder and patted her hand. “Fortunately, today men are not quite so driven, although it is their ultimate duty to their family to secure its succession.”

“Hah!” Lady Cavendish tossed a glance at him, then continued her quiet conversation with Lady John.

Had his statement drawn her disdain or something else entirely? Did she not want children? Dangerous woman indeed.

“I had no idea the village’s history was so colorful.” Georgina withdrew her hand and sat back in her chair, her face a trifle paler.

Nash shot a glance once more toward Lady Cavendish, whose ears had now turned a bright shade of pink. He’d wager she’d been listening. Good. He hoped she had also noted their earlier flirtation.

“Still, Wrotham Village is quite charming, Lady Georgina.” He smiled and settled in his seat. “What sights are you planning to visit today?”

Her fresh face lit up again. “I think after here we are to walk to St. George’s Church, which is ever so old.”

“Thirteenth century, I believe. There is a magnificent view of the village from the clock tower.”

Georgina leaned toward her hostess. “Charlotte! May we actually go up in the clock tower? Lord Wrotham says there is a lovely view of the village from there.” Her wheedling tone was not lost on Nash, although he assumed Lady Cavendish had already planned that particular excursion. That view alone often drew people to the village.

The lady in question, however, turned toward them and raised her eyebrows. “Is it indeed, Lord Wrotham? Then I suppose we should avail ourselves of that prospect.”

“Have you not climbed the clock tower, Lady Cavendish?” Given her current tone, Nash doubted it.

“No, my lord. I must confess I have only visited the village once before today.” One end of her pursed mouth turned up in a charming smile, making Nash stifle a gasp. The lady could be unpredictably enchanting.