Page 25 of Miss Harvey's Horribly Lovable Fiancé
“Serving here can be peaceful.” From her skirt, she picked off two tiny crawling black insects.
Charlie handed her his handkerchief to crush them in.
Apart from the bugs, she loved her home, her parents and her father’s tenants who were all upstanding hard-working men and women.
“The atmosphere soothes the soul.” He considered his glass, half empty now.
“I wish mine were soothed.”
“What bothers you, my dear Miss Harvey? You are about to become a bride of a man you adore. So you have told me. Have you changed your mind?”
“About Giles? No. Or rather…maybe.”
Charlie slapped an open hand to his heart. “There’s a chance for me then?”
“Never.”Willa is your destiny, good sir.
“Ah, well.” He took another draught. “A man can try.”
“You had better try instead to curry favor with your only love. Willa arrived finally,” she said, but he did not blink an eye.
Lady Willa Sheffield was the daughter of Earl de Courcy. Last year, Willa had attended the frolic and renewed a childhood friendship with the newly assigned Reverend Compton. Both had taken to each other with delight that was soon doused by Willa’s father who would not permit her to marry a man so low in status or income. Charlie had not taken the rejection well.
“Did you know she arrived?”
He stiffened. “That she’s here? Yes. That she does not care for me any longer? That too.”
That could not be true.Not if Willa was minus her fichu and Charlie had been minus his shirt. “Who said?”
“I do. Enough of me!” At that, his expression fell to no nonsense. Very well, he would not speak of his own problems. Only hers. That was why she was here in any case.“What ails you, dear lady? Nerves about the wedding night? The vows of obedience? Or is it the family you take on?”
“You mean the duke?”
He nodded gravely.
“I take him on not at all.” The Duke of Brentford, the old libertine, was one she would never miss. “In fact, I expect not to see him for years.”
“He may appear tomorrow. Then what will you do?”
“Offer my cheek?”
“Ah, yes. Your cheek—” He tapped his finger on his own. “Or your cheek?” His eyes flared with challenge.
“Whatever gets me through the hour.” Another sip of the excellentvin rougeseemed fitting.
“And your larger problem? The wedding night? I assure you, love makes any night—or day—a pleasure.” He got an wicked gleam in his eyes. “Even the first for a virgin.”
She giggled.
He snorted. “You’ll become addicted to the joys of it.”
“You speak from experience with virgins, do you?”
“Yes. Once I was one.”
She threw back her head to guffaw.
He winked at her. “Oh, Esme. Northington cares for you and he will make it fun.”
