Page 95 of To Woo a Wicked Widow

She glanced at Nash. “I believe it now. When I first married, my father invited Sir Archibald and the two boys down to the hunting lodge. Edgar would have known about an abandoned barn on the property.” She glared at him, then said with a sneer, “I don’t think it’s going to matter much whether you have furniture in your town house or not. I suspect you will not be taking up residence there for some time to come.”

“This is an outrage.” Edgar’s bluster had lost some of its shine. “I demand to be taken to London, where I will be able to explain the situation to a magistrate.”

“You can explain it to Wrotham’s magistrate in the morning.” Nash nodded to Kelliam, who took Edgar’s arm none too gently.

“For tonight you’ll have to put up with the accommodations at The Bull, Sir Edgar.” The Runner pushed the two men toward the door. “A nice locked cellar with the rest of your gang.” Fisk, who had stoically witnessed the entire episode, let them out.

Charlotte heaved a sigh and walked into Nash’s arms. “Is it over? Is it really over?”

“It is, my love.” He kissed her brow and hugged her tight. “Although I am now, unfortunately, in need of a valet.”

“I feel so badly for Thayer,” Charlotte said, winding her arms around his waist. “He was trying to help his family and ended up duped by my stepson.” She peered into his face, his eyes more flinty than she’d ever seen them. Perhaps her best wheedling tone would work. “I know what he did was wrong, but can’t we do something for him? Please, Nash?”

He grunted and pulled her back to him. “I’ll speak to the magistrate. Ask for leniency. Transportation instead of hanging. That’s the most I can do.”

“Was he a good valet?”

“I’ve only ever had the one.”

Charlotte laughed. “But until this evening, he did his job well?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think you should do something for his family. They will be destitute without him.” She gazed into his eyes, willing him to agree. “Please?”

“Well, I suppose a small annuity to keep Mrs. Thayer from destitution might be in order.” Nash pulled her head back and smiled down at her. “Will that suffice, my lady?”

“Admirably. Something is always better than nothing, my lord. Haven’t you learned that?” And she certainly had something now.

“Charlotte!” Jane’s voice echoed in the hall.

She glanced down the hall to find her cousin standing in the doorway to the drawing room. “If you don’t come this minute and explain yourself and all these goings on, I shall have to resort to strong spirits to calm my nerves.”

“We are coming.” Charlotte wound her arm in Nash’s and they strolled down the hall. “I’ve some news for you.”

Chapter 33

Moonlight streamed across the fields, dotted with the gaily colored lanterns of the Harvest Festival as Charlotte and Nash walked back toward the carriage. Quite a wonderful day really, despite all the hullabaloo. But she wouldn’t have changed a minute of it.

After explanations and wishes of happiness for them, the party had arrived back at the festival just in time for the crowning of the corn maiden. Nora Myers, sixteen and dressed in an enticing pink frock, had received the crown of plaited wheat straw and a decidedly unchaste kiss from Michael Thorne. From her enthusiastic reaction, her parents had best keep an eye on her tonight.

When they reached the carriage, instead of handing her in, Nash glanced around, then grabbed a blanket from within.

“What are you doing?” Although loathe to admit it, Charlotte wanted nothing more than her bed. She’d prefer Nash’s bed, of course, but that wouldn’t happen for a matter of weeks. Christmas seemed to loom far in the distance. She might want to reconsider that date.

“Shhh.” He grinned in the pale light of the moon and took her hand. “Come on.” He led her away from the festivities, still in high gear, toward one of the newly cut fields. On and on, they walked carefully over the uneven ground.

“Nash. What are you doing?”

“Here we are.” He spread the carriage blanket on the ground.

Did he want to gaze at the stars? She rubbed her arms. Too chilly out here for that, even with her heavy cloak.

Once he had the blanket spread to his satisfaction, he drew her to him and, without any warning, pulled her mouth up to his. The strains and stresses of the day melted like ice in the sun as he filled her whole world with his presence. He lingered on her lips before slipping his tongue into her mouth, lighting a fire in her belly that the chill air couldn’t touch.

He filled his hands with her breasts, pinching her nipples until they ached and tingled. Oh, the blaze he stoked within her would have to be quenched. She only knew one way to do that.

She slipped her hands around his waist, pulling him flush against her, the hard heat of him searing her through their clothes. An ache of need began deep in her core. By the time it emerged, it would be a growl of desire. The next thing she knew, she lay on the blanket, stubble poking her in the back. She ignored it and reached for his waistband.