Page 72 of To Woo a Wicked Widow

“So you have missed them twice?”

Maria lowered her head and nodded.

“And you have taken a man to your bed during this time?” Jane, though pale also, straightened her back and seemed determined to face this crisis head on.

Again the young widow nodded.

“When did this happen?” Jane’s voice remained calm, matter-of fact.

The girl glanced fearfully at her hostess and said, “At the first house party here, in August.”

The light in the receiving room wavered before Charlotte’s eyes.

“And was that the only time?” Jane continued her questioning while Charlotte tried not to consider the possibilities of who Maria had taken to her bed. Any of the men she had invited could have been the culprit.

With a hitching sob, Maria shook her head. “No. The first time was here and then later, in London, we met . . . often.”

Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut and clasped her hand over her chest, trying to keep her hammering heart from escaping. What had she expected to happen? Her parties had been designed to throw men and women together for the purpose of seduction. Still, a widow had to have known the risks involved. But who would think of those risks while being seduced? Charlotte had not. If not for the grace of God, she might this moment be with child as well.

Abruptly, she arose and headed for the brandy decanter. Perhaps the fiery spirits would burn away some of her guilt. She poured half a tumbler full and took a huge swallow. It brought tears to her eyes, but she took a deep breath and the slow burn reached through her stomach toward her legs and arms.

“Charlotte.”

Jane’s voice finally penetrated her brandy-fogged mind. She glanced at her glass to find it empty. Had she truly had so much? She shook her head, trying to brush away the cobwebs. Jane might need her yet.

“Yes?”

“You should take Maria to her room and see that she is comfortably settled. She must be extremely tired after her journey. Especially in her condition.” Jane rose, taking Maria by the arm.

Charlotte nodded. A bad idea, that. She held a hand out to steady herself as she walked with them to the door. If only the dratted wall would stop running into her.

At the threshold she stopped Jane to whisper, “Did she tell you who . . . ?”

Jane shook her head. “She wants to confront him with the news first. She says you invited him here this weekend.”

“Dear Lord.”

“I will have a talk with her after dinner and see if I can get her to confide in me. Then I could lend my support if the man refuses to come up to scratch.” Jane peered at Charlotte with narrowed eyes. “Perhaps you should lie down before dinner, dearest. If I’m not mistaken, you are more than a bit foxed. It has been an eventful day and will likely be an even more eventful evening. You will need your wits about you.”

Charlotte closed her eyes and the room started to tilt. She opened them immediately and said, “I think that an excellent plan.” Glancing at the none-too-steady corridor, she grasped the doorframe and asked, “Will you help me get Maria settled? Perhaps I need more rest than I thought.”

Jane stared at her, then raised her gaze to the ceiling. “Of course, my dear. The hostess must be at her best for all her guests. I’ll inform Fisk to send her luggage to the . . . ?”

Charlotte paused, the layout of the bedrooms and their occupants spinning through her head. They had been orderly in her mind only an hour or so ago. “The green room is unoccupied. Or is it the pink room?”

Jane’s eyebrows were dangerously close to her nose.

Whatever have I done now?

“I will ask Fisk.” Now her mouth was pursed as well. “I will take Maria to her room, then announce to your guests that you have had to retire early due to an indisposition.” Jane leaned close. “It will not do for you to appear foxed before your guests, Charlotte. I suggest you go directly to your room, crawl into your bed, and stay there. Tomorrow you will feel exceedingly worse, but with luck you will be able to appear for luncheon.”

“But Jane, this is all my fault.” Tears threatened as Charlotte searched in vain for her handkerchief. Drat. She’d given it to Maria.

“There are at least two others who share a somewhat larger part of the blame, my dear.” Jane patted Charlotte on the arm and escorted her across the threshold. Maria stood waiting, wringing her hands in the corridor. “You cannot be held accountable for their actions. Now, off to your bed. I will make your excuses.”

Charlotte nodded and trailed behind the two women as they climbed the stairs. If only she could lie down and sleep, perhaps when she woke up the world would have righted itself.

She grabbed for the banister as the steps suddenly listed to the left. Would anything ever be right again?