Page 52 of To Woo a Wicked Widow

After discarding several scurrilous replies, he decided to simply tell the truth and shame the devil.

“Yes, Georgina, I am in love with her.” To say it so baldly made it sound like a confession. “I haven’t always wanted that, but then, love does not always come from the head.” He tried to keep some of the bitterness from his voice. A losing battle at best. “She refused me, did you know that?” A glance at her showed a slow nod. “And she would not let me even talk to her before she left. I suspect I know what that means.”

Georgina sipped her tea and shot him a peculiar look through narrowed eyes. “I wonder if you do indeed, Nash. But continue.”

He sighed and seized a cut-glass tumbler from the sideboard. Something stronger than tea was necessary for this conversation. A quick survey of the sideboard revealed no spirits. Damn. He set the glass down again. “You said she is in London. I suspect I know who she plans to see while there.”

“I would be surprised if you did not.”

With a mumbled curse, Nash threw himself back down into the chair. “Then I suppose it does not matter at all whether I love her or not. She has made her choice. I cannot take a complete wanton to wife.” It was on the tip of his tongue to add, “No matter what her father wants.”

“I’m sure Charlotte is not as shameless as you believe.” Georgie sipped her tea, looking thoughtful. “Until just before her trip to London she was completely disinterested in Lord Kersey.”

“I suppose she received the name the ‘Wicked Widow’ for completely innocent reasons?”

“Actually, she did.”

His mouth must have fallen open in astonishment because Georgina laughed and pushed it closed.

“Lord Kersey took advantage of Charlotte’s inexperience at a public entertainment. That is how he managed to take her away from you in the first place. She’d only attended one or two balls before her wedding and none afterward. He led her astray and she followed. Fortunately, nothing came of it, save that silly nickname.” She met his eyes steadily. “I believe she has a deep regard for you too, Nash.”

Their heated encounter in the library surfaced effortlessly. That kiss had all but undone him. A minute more and passion would have overtaken them, for she had protested not a jot. Passion, therefore, didn’t seem to be the problem.

“It is not her regard for me that creates the difficulty, Georgina. Her desire to be a free woman trumps anything she may feel for me.” The agonizing truth became clear to him. Charlotte did not fear he would be unkind or an unskilled lover or a bad provider. His attributes mattered not at all. “The institution of marriage itself is her enemy. One to which, I fear, she will not surrender.” He smiled kindly at Georgina, a melancholy stealing over him. “So, you see, I am left with a dilemma. I need to marry and produce an heir to inherit my title. As Charlotte refuses, I must take another woman to wife.” He stared into green eyes that widened as he took her hand. “Have you thought about that, Georgina?”

Her hand trembled in his and he rubbed his thumb over the white knuckles.

“Yes, I have.” She dropped her gaze to her lap, silent for so long Nash began to shift in his seat. Had she gone into shock? He chaffed her hands, trying to bring warmth back into the cold little fingers.

A profound sadness settled over his heart, but he disregarded it. If Charlotte would not be his countess, did it truly matter who would? He liked Georgina. She would make a good companion, an excellent wife. Just not the one he wanted.

Finally, he slipped two fingers under her chin and tipped her head back until he could see her beautiful face, so pale the bran that dusted her nose and cheeks stood out like dark stars.

He gathered his courage, looked deep into her eyes, and asked, “Then will you marry me, Georgina?”

Chapter 18

“Have some more of the gooseberry tart, Georgie.” Charlotte offered her the last bite then sat back, watching as her friend shook her head and sighed contentedly. Charlotte had returned home late last night and could scarcely contain her curiosity about Georgina and Lord Wrotham.

“I could not hold one more berry.” Georgina smiled and sipped her tea. “You should have it, Charlotte. You’ve barely eaten anything. I should not have asked so many questions, but you’ve had such adventures in London I am quite jealous. However, as you’ve described them in such detail, I almost feel as if I had been there with you.”

Charlotte toyed with her teacup, pushing the handle to and fro. “I do wish you had been, my dear. I would have relished your company. But we will have a visit there together after the harvest, with lots of shopping. We must start in good time to outfit you for the Season.”

“Now, Charlotte—”

“We have been over this, Georgie. I am determined you will eclipse every woman in the ton next spring.” She gripped the cup’s handle. “Unless, of course, you have decided to marry before then.”

Her friend made no response other than to smile and sip her tea. The girl had said nothing about Lord Wrotham since Charlotte’s return, and her silence on the subject was driving Charlotte to distraction. Had something transpired while she had been in Town? Her pulse beat hard and fast, wondering what she would do if Wrotham had indeed declared himself.

“Now you must tell me what you have been doing since I left. Did . . . did you have any callers?” Charlotte tried to appear nonchalant and failed miserably.

“Yes, I did have several, who helped me pass the time quite well. Lady Fitzroy called the day after you left. She was all in a dither about . . .” Georgie continued, laughing animatedly about the local baronet’s wife and her feud with her neighbor, Mrs. Lawson-Smythe.

Charlotte made herself pay attention, although she couldn’t help but wonder who else Georgie had seen this past week. If Lord Wrotham had come, would she even tell her? But her friend couldn’t know about her interest in Wrotham. Could she?

“And then, of course, I asked Lord Wrotham to tea on Tuesday.”

Charlotte stared at her, stunned beyond belief. “You did?” A sinking sensation began in her stomach and radiated out toward her limbs, down to her fingers and toes.