Page 48 of To Woo a Wicked Widow

“Will you be seated, Lord Kersey, and have tea with us?” Jane asked, interrupting their heated gaze. “You must give us the particulars about your uncle’s funeral and all the fascinating things one must do to take over an earldom.”

“I beg your pardon, Lady John, but I am, as usual these days, pressed for time.” He continued to stare into Charlotte’s eyes. “I had hoped to have the pleasure of Lady Cavendish’s company in my curricle for a turn around the park, if she is willing?”

Charlotte clutched the arms of the chair. She hadn’t expected a drive alone with him, although it should not draw attention if she rode with him in an open carriage. If she was going to do this, they would need to be discreet above all else. He must understand that. She allowed him to assist her as she rose.

“I would enjoy becoming reacquainted very much, my lord. And a ride in the fresh air is always welcome.” A quick glance at her cousin showed her nod of approval, though she also noted Jane’s silent sigh. “Let me prepare for the outing and I will meet you in the hall shortly.”

He nodded and released her hand, giving it another squeeze as he did so.

Charlotte kept a sedate pace until she exited the room, then picked up her skirts and ran for her chamber. She had no idea what this ride would lead to, but considering the man’s reputation, she needed to be ready for anything.

Chapter 16

“Did I tell you how lovely you look, Lady Cavendish?” Lord Kersey asked as he handed her into his curricle. The sleek vehicle, drawn by a team of smart matched bays, looked new.

“I believe you said we were beyond Lady Cavendish and Lord Kersey since Almack’s.” Charlotte arched a brow at him as he climbed in and took the ribbons.

He glanced at her sharply, then started the horses. “I did say that, but as you never seemed comfortable with that level of intimacy, and because we have not had a private moment in three months, I thought to err on the side of caution.” He looked at her with a wry smile. “You do look lovely, Charlotte.”

His words and warm tone sent a thrill coursing through her. “Thank you, Alan. You too are looking extremely well.”

“I thought of you often while I worked at Kersey.” He frowned. “Although usually I thought of the tableau I stumbled upon of you and Wrotham.” His voice grew cool. “Are you now betrothed?”

Charlotte’s heart gave a lurch and gripped her reticule. “No, we are not. He offered, but I refused him. What you saw was an accident.” She placed a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It happened as I explained that night. I did not find you in the drawing room, and when I saw a light under the library door I rushed in, expecting to find you there, and came upon Wrotham instead.” She struggled to control her voice, the vivid memory slicing through her resolve, bringing with it a warm tingle in her breasts. “I tripped and landed in his arms. Before I knew what had happened, we were kissing.”

“Very thoroughly, from my perspective.”

Charlotte’s cheeks heated, but something new in his voice made her curious. “Were you jealous?”

“Of course.” He frowned as he expertly turned the horses into Hyde Park. “I could only think that it should be me standing there with you in my arms. I had gone to see to the carriage and came back to find you otherwise engaged.”

Face now aflame, she paused, ostensibly searching the park for other acquaintances, although in truth she badly needed a moment to recover. The remembrance of that night was swift and sharp. She could feel Wrotham’s arms around her again, could smell a phantom splash of his citrusy cologne. The intensity of the memory shook her, made what she had come here to do seem almost a betrayal. A silly notion, as nothing had come of their embrace.

Thank goodness the hour was early. Only one or two people walking and one carriage in the distance. No one would see them together. If she were to shake off the shade of the Earl of Wrotham it was time to be bold.

“Have you forgotten that I never answered your question during our dance in August, Alan?”

“What question?” He looked completely blank.

Well, it had been a long month and he’d had other things on his mind.

“You asked if you should come to my bedroom later. I have an answer, if you’d like to hear it.” Lord have mercy, had she really said that? Her heart beat oddly, blood pounding in her ears.

His eyes widened and his hands tightened on the ribbons. “My, my. You are the Wicked Widow, aren’t you? I am all ears.”

Charlotte smiled, confidence returning. “If one has a reputation, one should live up to it, wouldn’t you say?”

“Indeed. That has always been my motto.” He kept glancing toward her, as though she were some new creature he’d never encountered before. His admiration made her quite giddy. Was this what being wicked felt like?

She prayed, however, he would keep his eyes less on her and more on the path. The last thing she wanted today was an accident in the curricle.

“Perhaps it should become mine as well. You can teach me all you know about being scandalous.” Was she actually saying these things to him? She had become the Wicked Widow. “Because my answer is yes. Come to my bed, Alan.”

He grinned at her, deftly turning the horses toward a lesser-driven path. In moments, they were in a more secluded part of the park than Charlotte had ever seen. But of course a rake would know all the best places for seduction. He pulled the horses to a halt and turned to her.

Grasping her hands, he peered into her face. “I scarcely think you need lessons in being scandalous at all, my lady. So why do you want me in your bed?”

His blunt question stunned her. Her head whirled until she finally blurted out, “Because I want to have passion in my life for once. My husband had no idea of the meaning of the word.”