Page 81 of To Woo a Wicked Widow

“My dears, we must make haste. Lord Wrotham will be here any moment and we will not want to keep him waiting,” Charlotte said, going directly to the two women still seated.

Unperturbed, Jane sipped the last of her tea. “You are somewhat behind hand this morning, it seems. He is already come.” She nodded toward Nash.

Charlotte whirled about, her cloak swirling around her. She paled a trifle as she focused on his face. “My lord, I beg your pardon. I was not informed that you had arrived.” Color rose in her cheeks, dispelling the pallor. She stood silent, simply staring at him, her gaze boring into him with a sadness he did not understand. Finally, she commented, “I am sorry you were called away last evening.”

“As was I, my lady.” Nash spoke carefully, still unsure of her reaction to him. “An unfortunate necessity, I’m afraid. However, I am quite looking forward to today’s festival.” He smiled to encourage her. “I hope you will find it as charming as I do.”

“I am sure it will be as delightful as the other wonders of Wrotham you’ve shown us,” she said, then blushed and avoided his eyes. “Come, Georgie.” She turned toward the sofa. “We don’t want to miss a moment of the festivities.”

Georgie set down her cup and rose, glancing sheepishly at Nash. “I know you so generously offered to escort both Charlotte and me today.” She twisted her hands and hurried on. “However, my brother has requested that I attend with him and Lord St. Just. Would it be too terribly awful of me to renege on my promise?”

Her wheedling tone and the saucy glint in her eyes told Nash he was being given an opportunity to have Charlotte to himself for the day. He beamed at her.

“I completely understand, Georgina.” He ignored the icy glare Charlotte shot at her friend. “You haven’t seen him since early last month. Of course you would like to catch each other up.” Nash winked at her.

Georgina’s blush deepened and she cut her eyes over to the doorway, where Brack and St. Just stood. “There is always news to be shared.”

Eyes flashing, Charlotte opened her mouth, paused, then seemed to change her mind. “I hope you have a good time, then, Georgie. I expect we will see you there.” She peered at Nash and squared her shoulders. “I’m ready.”

She was acting damned odd. Better to accept a boon, however, when handed one. If Charlotte would come willingly with him, he’d not question it. “If everyone would assemble at the carriages, we should start now.”

The room erupted into a chaos of sound and movement. Jane called for her maid, Brack and St. Just entered with Mrs. Easton in tow, Fanny and Lathbury appeared from nowhere. Charlotte stood calmly watching him handle the departure, her eyes fixed on his face. Her scrutiny unnerved him even more. He’d not forgotten how strongly her closeness affected him, but it surprised him all the same.

Thank God he’d left his great coat unbuttoned. The heat her gaze generated in him made him feel like a small sun. It would scarcely abate before they reached the grounds and he’d hate to be perspiring before the day had begun. Good thing he’d elected to ride. To be enclosed in the carriage with her would have been his undoing for sure.

Without another word, he shepherded his flock out to the waiting carriages. He mounted Minotaur, made sure there were no stragglers, and set off.

The men rode alongside the carriages, which suited Nash. By the time they arrived at the Wrotham estate, he had indeed cooled down. Not that he expected it to last. This state of affairs with her had to be resolved before he burst into flames.

The sun hung higher, the day grown a bit warmer when they crested the rise leading to the south field. Nash had kept a weather eye peeled for the gang as they rode. Best to be safe rather than sorry, but no one untoward had appeared.

The Wrotham Harvest Festival lay spread out before them, the mix-match of colorful tents and milling people forming a living tapestry. The largest tent, where meals and tea would be served, sat in the middle of the field that a week before had held nothing but stalks of wheat. On either side of it, stretching in rows, individual stalls had been erected for a farmer’s market, where tenants and farmers could sell goods or crafts. Other tents had been set up as well for the produce judging. And in a section of the field off to the side, the stubble had been cleared to the ground for the afternoon games.

A thrill of satisfaction ran through Nash. A heady feeling indeed, akin to the fulfillment of command he’d experienced aboard ship. These were his people.

He nudged Minotaur and the company headed down the gentle incline toward the festivities.

Shortly, both ladies and gentlemen stood before the main serving tent, gazing around at the bustling scene.

Jane turned to him, a slight smile teasing the corners of her mouth. “Have you instructions for the best way to enjoy the festival, Wrotham? Or are we simply to experience it at our own whim?”

“I believe the latter method will ensure the most pleasure, Lady John.” Nash flashed a smile back at her. Such a vivacious woman. No wonder George was smitten with her. “I hope you have brought your purses, for the market is famous for its wares. And,” he nodded toward a larger tent where huge casks formed a back wall, “John Micklefield has set up his establishment to serve his special ale.”

Grins split the faces of the gentlemen and a hum of voices ensued.

Nash sidled up to Charlotte, whose head leaned close to her cousin’s. “Are you ready to accompany me to do my sacred duty, my lady?”

Her head popped up, eyes wide and wary. “What sacred duty is that?”

“The most important activity today, save one. Without it, the festival would be deemed a dismal failure.” He hoped his teasing tone would banish that wary look.

Charlotte’s eyebrows swooped upward over hazel eyes.

Her eyes were a weathervane to her emotions. Hazel foretold a pleasant disposition; green meant anger or passion. Much as he’d love the passion, he’d be happy to look into the beautiful mingled brown and green flecks for the start of the day.

“I had no idea you held such an important part in the festival, Nash. What is it?”

“I am to judge the produce.”