Page 93 of To Woo a Wicked Widow

“I don’t care what she’s told you. I tell you, that is my fireplace mantel!”

Charlotte stopped so abruptly that Nash carried onward into the room. He turned, brows raised. But she gave him no sign. There was no disguising that voice.

At last, the bane of her existence had come to call.

“Good evening, Edgar.”

Chapter 32

“This is Edgar?” Nash asked, scowling.

“Yes, my stepson.” Lord, would the surprises never end this day?

“It’s Sir Edgar Cavendish, if you please.” The peevish voice rose once more. “And this woman is a blatant thief.” He pointed his finger at Charlotte. “I come here to pay my respects to my stepmother only to find she has stolen all my possessions and set them out unashamedly for all the world to see. Even to the Robert Adam mantelpiece.”

The company’s gaze shifted to the mantelpiece, sleek white marble, with inlaid verd antico flutes in the frieze and jambs.

Jane detached herself from George Abernathy, who seemed to be searching for a drink, and hurried over to Charlotte. “Well, my dear, I think it’s time to open your budget.”

“I believe you are correct, cousin.” She smiled at the company, whose gaze was riveted to her, and moved toward Edgar.

“I fear you are wrong on all accounts, Edgar.” She’d not call him by his title to save her soul. That ought to set up his bristles. “According to the marriage settlements, signed by your father, after his death I was allowed to take any material possessions I brought into the marriage. I have done so.”

“But you’ve taken everything.” He spun around, his gaze darting from one piece of furniture to another, until it finally rested on the mantelpiece. “You can’t have bought that as well.”

“I have copies of my settlement papers and a box full of receipts if you care to peruse them. The document on top is a copy of my grandmother’s will, where you will see she bequeathed the mantelpiece to me.”

He looked at them with a Friday face. “You’ve ruined me.”

“I think you’ve done that yourself.” Charlotte motioned toward the doorway. “If you’ve come to collect your furniture, you had best head back to London. Whatever remains belongs to you.”

Edgar leaned toward her and she took a step back, almost running into Nash.

“Don’t you understand, I’m on the rocks! I’ve got nothing. Why do you think I came back early from my grand tour? Uncle Gordon wrote and told me my money had run out. But I still had the house and its furnishings.”

“You’ve inherited the house, haven’t you?” Nash broke in, impatient. “That should fetch a goodly sum, unless. . .”

“Mortgaged.” Edgar spit out the word as if he had a bad taste in his mouth.

Charlotte shook her head. Sir Archibald had always done everything in his power to placate Edgar’s every whim. The grand tour had likely depleted his funds completely. Poor Edgar.

Suddenly grasping Charlotte by the hand, Edgar propelled her toward the door.

Before he had gone two steps, he was halted and hoisted up off the floor by Nash’s two capable hands, sunk into his black jacket. “Lay hands on her again and I’ll draw your cork but good.”

“What if I ruin her instead?” Edgar jeered at Nash, who shook him like a terrier with a rat.

“You wouldn’t slander a lady. Your own stepmother?” Nash’s eyes narrowed.

“He’d do whatever it took to make me give up my possessions.” Charlotte sniffed. She’d dealt with Edgar for five years. And the information he thought he held over her was likely scurrilous. “What do you think you know, Edgar?”

“Put me down and let us step back into the hall.”

Nash released him immediately with a smothered curse.

Edgar barely caught himself, windmilling his arms to try to keep his balance. He tugged at his coat, rumpled beyond repair, and headed out the doorway. Nash took Charlotte’s arm. She sent a speaking look to Jane. Keep them all here, she mouthed to her, then followed Edgar out.

“All right, Edgar, what is this scandalous information?” Charlotte had done with his antics. Given the slightest provocation, she’d be happy to turn Nash loose on him. With Edgar’s unexpected presence, she’d not even been able to tell Jane the news about her marriage.