Page 64 of To Woo a Wicked Widow

Nash released her hand and she gave the miniature to Georgie, then returned to her seat, disturbed at her reaction to the gift. It was merely a drawing. Yet it seemed so much more.

“It is lovely. This artist is exceptional, Nash. I wonder that you can bear to part with it.” She shot an approving look at Nash, who raised his brow, then grinned at her.

“One must do as the heart dictates, Georgina. I found myself thinking that after that ordeal today, such a gift would raise Charlotte’s sprits.” He turned to gaze at her. “I feel responsible because I haven’t been able to apprehend these brigands yet.”

“That’s not your fault, Nash.” Charlotte would not have him take all the blame. Their neighboring landowners had been unsuccessful as well. “They’ve eluded everyone.”

“Well,” Georgie broke in, “I still think this is a lovely present. Where shall you put it, Charlotte? You need to display it so those at the house party can see it.” She handed the piece back to her friend.

Charlotte’s face heated. She hadn’t sent out all her invitations, but she hadn’t intended to send one to Nash. It would be more than awkward for her to be in the same company with him at a party and remembering the previous one. Georgie, however, had now taken that decision out of her hands.

“You are quite right, Georgie. They will enjoy seeing it, especially those who attended the outing last time.” She turned to Nash, who had resumed his seat also. “You’ll be receiving an invitation shortly, Nash. I do hope you’ll be able to attend again. The party will start on the tenth.”

“You are too kind, Charlotte. Of course I will attend. Do I know any of your guests?” Nash leaned back on the sofa, seemingly relaxed. The lines around his mouth firmed, however.

“Yes, I believe so. My cousin Jane, Lady Stephen, and Mrs. Easton. Only Mrs. Wickley has sent her regrets. And several of the gentlemen are the same as well.” Charlotte grinned at him. “Except for Lord Fernley. He will not be receiving an invitation this time.”

“Indeed.” Nash’s brows went up in mock surprise. “A wise deletion from your guest list in my opinion.” He hesitated, and Charlotte knew the next question he would ask. She steeled herself for it. “Will Lord Kersey be in attendance?”

“I have issued the invitation, yes,” Charlotte said evenly. “I have received no word from him as yet.”

Nash nodded, but made no further comment. Indeed what could he say?

Hating the awkward silence, Charlotte desperately cast about for another topic.

“Your party comes at a fortuitous time,” Nash said, coming to her rescue. “They must attend the Harvest Home that Friday.”

“Harvest Home?” Georgie’s brow wrinkled. “What is that?”

“It is the festival to celebrate the end of the harvest. Traditionally, it’s held on September twenty-third, but this year the cold weather has delayed the harvest several weeks. So we’ve settled on the eleventh of October, quite the latest Harvest Home ever held. But it means your guests will have a different sort of outing to attend this time.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I would be honored to personally escort you both, Charlotte and Georgina. I will be the envy of the village—and the party too, if I don’t miss my guess.” Nash leaned forward, as if hanging on Charlotte’s answer.

“I would be delighted to go with you,” Georgie spoke up before Charlotte could open her mouth.

“And I as well,” Charlotte added. “It would create a good appearance in the village to have the major landowners attend together, don’t you think?” She relaxed and laughed. “I think this will be fun, although I’m sure I don’t know what one does at a Harvest Home.” She looked inquiringly at Nash.

“I’m surprised Courtland didn’t tell you about it.” He arose, that mischievous twinkle in his eyes once more. “Perhaps he didn’t have a chance. Still, I think it will be much more entertaining if you don’t know what happens.” A fire lit behind his eyes, warming her pulse. “So we will all have something to look forward to.”

“What will you look forward to?” Georgie’s question sounded far away as Charlotte stared into Nash’s eyes, enthralled.

“Your response to the festival.” A smile crept slowly over his face. “There are some interesting customs attached to it. I found them quite . . . stimulating last year.”

Georgie gasped and turned pink.

“Ladies.” He bowed to them with a mischievous smile and left.

Charlotte sank back against the chair, suddenly weary. Lord Wrotham had the ability to sap her strength in the most unexpected and provoking ways. Now, in addition to the demanding preparations for her weekend party, she would be fretting about this festival as well.

Drat the man. Would he forever turn her world upside down? Charlotte had the distinct impression that the answer to that question was yes.

Chapter 23

Just after breakfast two days later, Charlotte shivered in the cold, misty air as she headed toward Wrotham Hall. It was only the beginning of October. What on earth would it be like by Christmas? She’d be surprised if they didn’t have to move the date of the festival yet again. This nasty weather must be delaying the harvest even further.

She scrutinized the road, all too aware of the target she made for the gang. The robbers might be desperate enough that the cold would not deter them. She would take no more chances, however. Glancing left and right, she made sure her armed escort—James, her groom, and Jeffers, her coachman—still flanked her, easily keeping pace. Their faces, set in determined lines, turned back and forth as they also scanned the land along the road for trouble.

Her journey today had been prompted by Nash’s silence on Will Courtland’s progress. She’d heard nothing in two days, which might not bode well for her estate manager. Would Nash keep it from her if his health had begun to decline? She couldn’t be sure, even though he’d agreed to keep her informed. So she’d decided to go see for herself. She might have sent a note, but it would be better to go in person in case she could do something to add to her manager’s comfort. And, deny it though she would, she wanted to see Nash as well.

Why the devil did her father have to spoil everything again? She tried to stay strong, to remain steadfast in her determination not to bend to her father’s will in this. If he wanted her married to Nash, he’d wait an eternity. It irritated Charlotte to no end, however, that despite his involvement with her father’s schemes, Nash occupied her thoughts much more often than he should.