Page 85 of To Woo a Wicked Widow

“Who is this lady?” Kelliam’s curt voice broke in on his thoughts.

“I beg your pardon.” Nash recalled his manners. “My lady, may I present Mr. Josiah Kelliam? Mr. Kelliam, this is my neighbor, Lady Cavendish. You’re technically working for her as well as me. Both our properties have been vandalized this summer.”

“My lady.” The Runner nodded, then turned his attention back to Nash. “My lord, it seems you may have no further use of my services. Lady Cavendish’s explanation, if her valuation of her cattle is correct, would account for the lack of the gang’s presence both today and for the previous weeks. Shame we couldn’t have taken them. They’ll be back in the spring, I suspect, either here or elsewhere.” He pursed his lips. “Rabble always have a way of turning up when least wanted.” Kelliam dropped the rest of the reports on the desk. “With your leave, my lord, I’ll send runners to the crews, recalling and disbursing them. The men who came with me from London I’ll treat to a round of Wrotham ale before we head for home.”

Nash sighed. “Thank you, Mr. Kelliam. I’m sorry to have wasted your time, but I did believe the gang would seize this day as a golden opportunity to rob the properties.”

“My time and your money, my lord. Well,” he picked up his squat, short-brimmed black hat, “I’ll give you good day. You as well, my lady.” He nodded, plopped his hat on his head, and stalked out of the study.

“You manage to find the most colorful characters, Nash.” Charlotte shook her head, a wan smile on her face. She moved to the desk and picked up one of Kelliam’s reports. “He’s very thorough.”

Suddenly in need of a drink, Nash stalked to the makeshift sideboard. He splashed brandy into a tumbler and downed it. He glanced at Charlotte and raised his glass. “Would you like a brandy? Sherry? I find myself in need of fortification after that letdown.”

She shuddered and grimaced. “No, thank you. I may never indulge again.”

Nash raised his brows. “I’d heard you were indisposed the other night.” She hung her head and turned away. He would give anything to know what had caused her to turn to spirits. It must have been dire.

He set down the glass and moved to stand behind her at the desk. “Charlotte, tell me what happened. I know about Kersey.” He swallowed. Damn, there was no good way to say this. “I burst into the room after hearing you tell him to stop.”

“You were there?” Charlotte gasped, turned bright red, then white.

“I followed him after he left the dining room.” He clenched his jaw. “I didn’t trust the blighter.”

“Oh, God.” She sank her head into her hands.

He grasped her shoulders. “I only want to help you, my dear.”

She shook her head. “You can’t, Nash. I won’t let you pay for my mistake.”

He turned her until she faced him, her cheeks two pink spots, her eyes leaking tears. “You said before, out in the field, that you were ruined.” Best get it out in the open. “Did he . . . hurt you?”

She dragged in a ragged breath. “I . . . don’t know.”

He pulled her into his arms, wanting to take away her hurts. He longed to put a bullet in Kersey’s brain for causing her so much distress. He steered her over to the chair he had cleared and drew up another for him. Taking her hands, he peered into her red-rimmed eyes. “Tell me, love.”

* * *

Charlotte wanted nothing so much as to vanish into the floor or disappear in a puff of smoke. Nash’s expectant gaze seared her to her very soul. How could she admit to him how incredibly stupid she’d been? But he’d not stop until he found out. She’d said too much out in the field. He wouldn’t let it go now until she’d made a full confession. Another trek to the top of the clock tower would be a pleasant outing by comparison.

“I feel like the world’s biggest fool.” She glanced at him. No self-satisfied smile, no archness in his demeanor. He simply squeezed her hands in encouragement. “I never truly desired Lord Kersey. I considered a liaison with him because . . . because I wanted to leave the field open for Georgie, who I believed was in love with you.”

He smiled. “I suspected as much after talking to Georgina. But Charlotte—”

“And I was trying to convince myself I didn’t care for you.”

“Did you succeed?”

Charlotte found that if she stared at their joined hands she could focus on telling her tale. She shook her head. “I was a fool.”

Glancing into Nash’s face, she found only compassion. “You know about Edward. Did Father tell you about Sir Archibald?”

“No. I only know that you married him shortly after the elopement.”

“Father married me off to Sir Archibald as punishment. It was that or the lunatic asylum. And for five years I did my duty to my husband, despite his cruelty to me. I’ve had no warmth or affection since Edward.” Deep breath. “Nor physical consummation.”

“My dear!” His eyes widened and he clamped down on her hand as if it were a lifeline. “Oh, Charlotte.” He beamed at her.

Her heart clenched as though he squeezed it instead of her hand. “I remained a virgin, until night before last. At least, I don’t know now.” She couldn’t look into his hopeful face any longer. “I was foxed, he got into bed with me, and I fainted.”